#i also wanna say that in tandem to this-- he definitely would be more than willing to go on ''dates'' with chiko in diu!verse

[a-libra-writes]

so glad you're accepting some requests! i've loved your work for so long now. pls feel free to ignore if this doesn't strike your muse, i'll read basically anything you write.

i must ask for my fav ASOIAF boys: Stannis, Roose, Jorah, Jaime, and Sandor (you can pick and choose between this list, im definitely not expecting ALL of them 😭)

my prompt is awkward/untimely moments when they confess their love for the reader OR moments that make them soft for their lover (again, you can pick which interests you more....)

SORRY IF THIS IS A LOT, please feel free to pick and choose what you wanna do, if you wanna do any of them at all! thank you and have a nice night!

oh thank you!! Im glad you enjoy my silly blog so much. I thought the "moments that make them soft" was just super cute and made me think a lot, so I picked that one. Your chosen characters are at the front, and I added a few more for my own self indulgence

No warnings, Reader is implied to be married in most. Also, Roose is Roose.

Stannis - There are many things Stannis gets sentimental for, not that he could think of them on the spot. It's all things that happen in the moment.

When he's at a social function with you and someone's infuriating him, it grounds him when you gently touch his hand. You might say you aren't feeling well, and of course it's a husband's duty to take you away from the crowd and make sure you're alright... then he realizes you just feigned feeling faint for his sake. 

Another time is when you defend him, especially against the criticisms of other lords. He can handle himself, and he always has, but there's something different about you coldly (and politely) telling them off. The harsher your words, the better.

Gentle touches on his jaw when he grinds his teeth, a touch on the shoulder when he's totally absorbed in something and isn't hearing your call, and wanting to take his arm when you both have to appear before the public. While he's averse to most touching, the fact you're considerate of that instead of criticizing means a lot.

Also, appreciating his attempts to please you, and saying so! Appreciation is not something Stannis gets a lot of, even when his best is put forth. Bringing up something sweet he did a while back will actually get a blush and grumble out of him. 

And while it may not seem like a lot, generally just supporting him in court politics means more than he can say. You aren't just performing an expected wifely loyalty, you genuinely want the best for him and House Baratheon. Being on the same page and working in tandem brings such emotions - relief, gratitude, affection - it can be difficult for Stannis to express with words or actions, but he's absolutely soft for it.

Roose - This can be tricky for his partner to discern unless they're paying close attention or it's been a long time in the relationship. Roose does not wear his emotions, positive or negative, openly. The most obvious emotion one might see is pleased contempt for someone he's just intimidated or screwed over.

Any softness would first come from his wife willingly touching him, usually when she's doing something simple. Adjusting his cloak when it's a little askew, taking his arm when visiting other lords, touching his hand during a meal when you're trying to make a point. He's told himself he doesn't care what your feelings are, he just needs a wife to secure an alliance and an heir, but ... well, it is easier if you're fond of him ... 

He's such a suspicious and careful person that overt affection may be seen as an act, so it's little things where you forget yourself that he thinks of most. When you lean into him as you both speak, or gasp in spite of yourself when he grasps you. The satisfaction of making you "forget" yourself is stronger than if you're doting at the start. 

Sometimes, if Roose catches you being affectionate with any children you both share, he'll watch for a few moments. Again, he tells himself it's simply that he "won" over you and that's the only reason he's so pleased.

Jorah - Tbh it's easier to list what doesn't make him soft for you

The biggest one is when you're fussing over him! Jorah is always the one who puts your needs before his own, so you insisting on caring for him and spoiling him a bit just gets him weak in the knees. It's hard to say what he likes best, but making his favorite meal followed by tons of affection is enough to wash away any fatigue.

Showing him off and being obviously proud of being his partner is another thing that gets him fluttery. He already gazes at you adoringly on a regular basis, but now he looks like you hang the moon when you take his arm and happily introduce him as your's.

And, he can't help but melt when you're sweet with kids. Wether you're helping a little one up after they fall or teaching how to do something, he just has to watch from a distance. Yes, he'd want children if you wished for them, but it's moreso he appreciates the compassion you show those smaller and weaker than you. It's sweet how children seem to rely on and cling to you, knowing you're someone safe - and obvs, if these were children you had or adopted together, it made him even more sentimental and emotional.  

Jaime -First, it's tough to know when Jaime is having feelings because most of the time, he's hiding it. If he's caught gazing fondly at you, he'll brush it off with sarcasm.

The easiest way for him to catch feels is just you being honest with your intentions and feelings. When you tell him how much you adore him, or you appreciate something he did - especially after you both were intimate and you're cuddled up, and you just state how you feel with no manipulations or strings attached, it does something to him. He doesn't respond at first, just quietly contemplating your words long after you've fallen asleep.

Another time is when you see through his arrogance and bravado. When Jaime's trying to assure you he's fine and he's dealt with it, and he isn't bothered by what happened at all actually, and you just quietly listen. That bravado wavers just so, and it just takes a few well-placed questions before he finally just caves and tells you what's actually going on (how do you and Tyrion do that so well?). The fact you listen and don't judge or admonish him is something that occurs to him much later. He can go to you with a problem, and that's a rare vulnerability for the disgraced knight.

Sandor - He is far more affected by you than he wants to admit to himself, especially at the beginning, but after being years of being together, anyone with eyes could see it.

First of all, you're so damn gentle. You always talked to him with a kindness and politeness he wasn't used to, and while he initially brushed it off, the annoying thing is you were genuine. You'll even touch carefully or be considerate of things that may upset him, like he needs to be protected, the huge "knight" that everyone is terrified of. It completely affects Sandor and for a long time he didn't know what to do with himself. Now he just quietly accepts it, allowing himself to be vulnerable and cared for instead of immediately crushing those feelings.

On the same lines, it used to trouble Sandor how you'd hold him so tight. It didn't matter if it was after sex or just an embrace out of nowhere (the latter is a bit more startling), and it almost sent him into a fight-or-flight response the first few times you did it. He's far more comfortable with it than before, but now embraces tend to send him into something of a "reset". Any anger or darkness that was clouding him will fade just slightly, and he'll lean into you and let his guard down.

Brandon - Though he carries plenty of bravado and confidence, it's pretty easy for others to tell when he's being soft on you, especially his family members. The easiest way to get him feeling fluttery is to rely on him. Yes, even if you're clearly teasing or messing with him, you like to have him carry you over water or lift you up on your horse or "protect" you while you both go on a walk in the late hours. It's like he's a boy with a crush again, and he likes to show off his strength.

There's also the simple things that get him every time, like when you take his hand and entwine your fingers out of nowhere. You won't say anything, you'll just do it, and when you kiss his hand and knuckles it gets the big man oddly flustered.

Asha - While she's certainly felt all sorts of soft around you, it's not immediately obvious. As much as she loves you, she doesn't go on about grand gestures or proclamations. It's just not her style. So when you do something just so damn cute and charming - like rambling on about something you love or ranting about someone who pissed you off - she just smiles.

An outsider might think she's just amused, but those in the know have never seen such an expression of adoration on her. When you finish your tirade, she just teases you with a kiss and a pull of the cheek. You ought to stop being so damn cute. Another thing she likes is when you're frank with her. When you honestly tell her how much you love her, or how happy you are - even if she didn't have doubts, it's nice to hear it.

Victarion - First, he doesn't think he's capable of such "weak" feelings and vulnerability. If anyone brought it up, they'd be punched. If his family brings it up, he grumbles and scowls. If you do, he just frowns and turns away. It's not expected of an Ironborn, so obviously he doesn't have any softness toward you. None.

Not even when you've managed to get him in your arms and have him rest on your chest - not an easy feat, this is always after sex and usually when he's drunk - and he can feel your skin and heartbeat. You touch his rough, tangled hair, and his scarred face, and his even more scarred back, and the huge man is like putty. He's heavy, sure, but it feels warm and safe. Later when he's awake and sober and going about whatever he does during the day, he'll think back on that embrace, and odd feelings he can't describe just pick at him.

A smaller thing is when you approve of something he does, regardless if it's an action or words. Even just glancing at him and nodding - even if subtle, he notices. It's like a thrill going through him and Victarion wonders why for a solid minute. Maybe he should do that thing more, or say those words again? Why does he care about your reaction anyway, and why does he want it again? It's even worse when you leave without explaining what exactly it was that pleased you. Asha says he'll figure it out eventually.

#I KNOW i didnt include Ned but listen I got other Ned requests LOL and we know what this man likes #might do more later if it comes to me #stannis baratheon x reader #roose bolton x reader #jorah mormont x reader #jaime lannister x reader #sandor clegane x reader #brandon stark x reader #asha greyjoy x reader #victarion greyjoy x reader #libra headcanons #got x reader #game of thrones x reader

[discordiansamba]

ngl i was gonna be all hell yes i wanna see more criminal keith but then i realised i was just gonna end up asking for more stuff that could fit runaway paladin au cnfkdnxjdkn

as an alternative: the keiths of your aus all meet. there's a timer of how quickly they resort to crime and/or fighting smth

"So we all stole Shiro's car right?"

A particularly young looking version of himself raises his hand, "-I stole his hoverbike, actually."

An older version of himself cocks his head in confusion, "-Shiro doesn't even own a car. He's like, eighteen."

"Shiro?" A version of himself who is sporting some nasty looking purple lichtenberg scars asks. "You mean like, Adam's fiancee? I've never even met him."

Another version of himself, one wearing actual armor, just looks deeply confused. "What's a car?"

"Ditto," says another version of himself with bronze-colored eyes and a dusty cloak, "-what's a car."

"I helped steal a ship to break him out of Central Command," a version of himself in druid robes replies, "-does that count?"

Keith hums. Okay. So there's outliers, definitely. But most of the other versions of himself gathered in this strange place had most definitely raised their hands.

"So basically what you're saying is," and a way more Galra version of himself wearing the armor of one of Lotor's generals says this, "-maybe like 90% of us have at some point, stolen a vehicle belonging to Shiro."

"I never stole his car, but I did try to kill him," a version of himself who would otherwise look normal if not for the scar on his cheek that he hadn't gotten in his own universe until years later said, "-that counts for something, right?"

Two different versions of himself, one more Galra looking and clad in Blade armor, and the other more human dressed in orange and blue ask in tandem, "Wait, you tried to kill him!?"

"Yeah, sorry," a version of himself that looks more like a chimera raises a hand, "-I tried to kill him too. In my defense, I was fucked up on quintessence."

"Oh, ditto on the brainwashing," replies another version of himself wearing Blade armor, but looking more human than some of the others, "-also I was possessed at the time too?"

"...are you guys like, okay?" A version of himself that resembles Lotor a little too closely for anyone's comfort asks.

A lot of the other versions of himself simply reply no.

"Cool," Keith said, "-glad to know we're all kind of deeply fucked up."

#asks #this one got a bit away from the prompt but I think it's still funny #and now to tag all of these in order. lmao #pidge keith ageswap #the stars shine a different shine #flicker #under the pale moonlight #atla au #druid!keith au #who you are in the dark #what's hidden next to you (will soon be seen) #abyss of memory #quintessence poisoning au #anomalous point #prince keith au

[soundwavemain]

what are some of your favorite rottmnt scenes? also opinions on other turtle media? best/worst?

Oh boy. Okay so for ROTTMNT I enjoy a vast majority of the scenes so I mean no disrespect to any in particular by not mentioning them. That being said lmao

I love all of the fight scenes. One of my favorite things to do is analyze animation/animated series so the fact that rise has such fascinating fight scenes is so refreshing compared to... other shows >.>

I love whenever Splinter spends times with his kids. Honorable mentions go to his and April’s dynamic, when he apologized to Donnie, and how he talked about his kids/held Mikey’s hand in their Hidden City episode. Honestly, I love what rise did with Splinter’s character and the mom in the park scene gets me every time.

My FAVORITE scene, though, has to be when Raph told his family about the stress he was under and he relied on them to catch him. This, in tandem with Leo’s apology, really just goes for my throat specifically as a Raph fan.

Now for my opinions on tmnt media... (Putting this under the cut because this is already so long T^T)

Note: Other than the ROTTMNT Movie, I haven’t seen any of the tmnt movies so I cannot adequately judge them. I also generally don’t like live action stuff. If I did watch the other tmnt movies, I would probably be more interested in the ones that use practical effects instead of CGI (if there are any, I might be wrong thinking there is one. Who knows? Not me.)

OKAY. Opinion time.

I started watching tmnt with tmnt 2003 so I definitely enjoy it. I haven’t rewatched any episodes recently but I have seen some scenes that reminded me why I continued watching it in the first place. I think it’s a fun watch if you’re on a turtle kick and enjoy early 2000s animated shows (if you know, you know). The characterization isn’t there per say compared to 2012 and ROTTMNT but it is a silly show. With some exaggerated turns. Also, Usagi Yojimbo fans! Miyamoto Usagi shows up. I can’t remember for how many episodes but he’s there! 

While watching tmnt 2003, tmnt 2012 started airing. I actually watched it as it aired until season 3 (I couldn’t keep up with it T^T). I remember trying to watch season 3 on they nickelodeon website before the eventually took it down and I only got about ten episodes in. I got back into it I wanna say in 2020 and watched the whole show in a matter of months and, since then, I’ve rewatched up until season 4 with a friend of mine so I still have it fresh in my memory files.

It’s not good :D The character writing is bad, the plot is bad, the subplots are bad, the character designs are bad, the animation is bad, the sound effects (the overuse of gross humor clearly marketed towards “9-year-old boys”) is bad. There have been and are cartoons made specifically for that demographic that are way better. I will still watch it because I have nostalgia for it and I love to pick apart how character designs and writing can be improved (animated series analyses kicking in) but I would not recommend tmnt 2012 unless I provided a HUGE list of things to be aware of while watching it. Like, honestly, no. Don’t watch it. You can live with just highlight reels if anything.

ROTTMNT... My shining angel. I adore what rise did in terms of subverting what a typical tmnt continuity could be. I think the character designs are fun and interesting. The dynamics are wholesome and well-written. You can tell why a character acts the way they do by the end of season 2 which is a huge win for a tmnt show. [cough] The action sequences, the fight choreography, the animation-- you can tell that the creators of the show had fun with it! Even without the plot, the show is a fun watch. Watch it. Watch ROTTMNT. Now.

I would absolutely recommend ROTTMNT and its movie to someone getting into tmnt. It gives everyone a personality and differentiates them while also maintaining a family dynamic that is really refreshing to see.

Now, as for tmnt 1987... I haven’t watched it </3 I don’t know if I ever will watch it either and that’s OKAY. No one has to consume every continuity in a franchise to be a true fan of it. I haven’t read any of the comics either and I don’t really plan to (mainly because I don’t even have the attention span for the ones I want to read) so yeah. No opinion on those.

Sorry for the rambling T^T I have a lot of turtle thoughts

#asks #anon #i could honestly make a whole rant about what i dislike about tmnt 2012 then i'd go and rewatch an episode from it avjkfsvnslfmvsg #listen LISTEN i know which episodes i enjoy rewatching and sometimes thats enough #tmnt #tmnt 2012 #tmnt 2003 #rottmnt #tmnt ramblings

[sminiac]

WAIT SORRY FOR BUGGING SM 😭😭 but i reread ur post abt who u write for and im a p1ece 🫡🫡🫡 sooo,, same question as the bnd one,, i would love some hcs for piwon too 🤲🏾🤲🏾🤲🏾

- lunicho

💌 — Bunny please you’re literally not bugging me at all, I love seeing you in my notifs, GOTCHU ALWAYS!!

Warnings — Smut focused, MDNI.

⋆ Y. Keeho

There’s this one clip of him from a live that I can’t stop thinking about, basically someone in the chat said something that bugged him a little and he wasn’t scared to be like “Yeah… no.” But he was also so gentle about it afterwards? Like he made his disagreement with them graspable but it wasn’t petty, idk, making me think of Possesive!Keeho and him dragging you back to the dorms, the two of you having left before the event was fully over because he couldn’t stand seeing so many people try to pursue more than just an innocent friendship with his girlfriend, right in front of him. His agitation warping his perception of the situation and being so quick to think that you’re entertaining them.. when really you’re trying to sway the conversation away from the uncomfortable lack of decorum, so he’s dragging you home, his jaw so tight that you swear you can see a vein pushing through the skin of his forehead. Being unable to wait until he’s got you in his bed, taking you right by the front door, struggling to keep yourself up with only the handle and flat wall behind you. His annoyance makes the things he has to say come easily, probably says some shit like “Wish it was him fucking you like this? Funny you think someone could ever fill you up the way I can? Look at you, can barely even speak.”… Lol… afterwards he’s so gentle and sweet with you during aftercare, but he’ll take the time to pull you into his chest, gently rubbing at any sore muscles in your body whilst explaining in detail why he reacted the way he did, what you should do the next time something like that happens, what he should do better. I’m okay :,)

⋆ C. Taeyang

Sub!Theo, just- ….Sub!Theo. Although when he’s feeling a little more assertive he’s so relentless when teasing you, wants you whining, begging for him to please you. Has the prettiest smile on his face as the head of his cock presses into you, but he has enough self control to not slam his length all the way inside of you, merely drags himself through your folds, enjoying the sticky mess you make, so warm and alluring. Think he’d be the type to get lost in the pleasure though, would completely forget about being inside of you as his pace speeds up, now slipping the whole of his cock against your pussy, his pretty fingers placed on top of him so there’s some pressure stimulating the both of you. Becomes a little embarrassed that only the act of fucking himself against you has him cumming, his chest straining as soft, jumbled moans spill from his lips in tandem with the sticky white fluid beading from his slit and getting all over your inner thighs. That’s when you’ve decided he’s had his fun having his way with you, I think he’d become so fucked out so quickly with you, gets ahead of himself a lot of the time and tries to be strict with you, bullying you with his cock into submission but then he’s so quickly overcome by the pleasure that his handle on the facade starts slipping and then he’s the one whimpering, begging for you to fuck him, take care of him, make him a mess.

⋆ C. Jiung

Jiung definitely has the ability to switch between sub and dom, another person I’d say 50/50 with. But c’mon, Dom!Jiung? I’m weeeaaak. I think about that clip from the radio show with Keeho when they’re talking about how they’d handle their ‘gf’ dancing with another man at a party quite often, he’s so not the type to be confrontational about something he’s not okay with, but instead he’d be more reserved, he’s got a good levelled head on his shoulders, but he’d definitely want to be shown that you only care about him. “Show me how much you love me.. please? Jus’ wanna fuck your mouth.” I’M NOT OKAY. Being on your knees for him backstage, cock heavy in your tongue as he slouches against the wall with his hand fisting at the hem of his shirt, enough of the material bunched up between his fingers so that you can see the butterfly tattoo that lives near his hipbone. He’d definitely make the prettiest sounds ever, isn’t afraid to be moaning in your ear like a slut even when he’s the one in charge, always, aaalways has to let you know how good you’re making him feel.

⋆ H. Intak

A being called ‘Daddy’ enjoyer, but I think we know this? That and his name, isn’t afraid to ask of you to “Say my name, god- please baby say m’name, the way I like it.” He’s sick. I’M SICK, GRAVELY ILL. I think he’d have a thing for restraining you, tying you up all pretty just so he can fuck you until he’s shooting blanks. That and sleepy sex, definitely likes starting most of his mornings off with pulling you into him and slipping your panties and whatever else you have on to the side just so he can bury himself in you, slow, self indulgent thrusts, doesn’t pull all the way out because he can’t bare to not be so close to you. Requests of you to wear specific bottoms that have a thin, stretchy material just so he can get his cock inside of you faster, easier. His hands. Has a thing for rubbing your tummy, and it would be such a warm, comforting feeling, his touch slowly pulling you back under your sleepy lidded eyes as he grinds into you from behind. I also think that he wouldn’t be shy about pda with you, likes having his hands on you, his arms, his eyes, his lips. Just wants to show you off, that you’re his, that he’s allowed to touch you in so many ways that nobody else ever could.

ᰔ sminiac’s P1Harmony M.list

#lunicho <3 #p1harmony hyung line #p1harmony smut #p1harmony keeho #p1harmony theo #p1harmony jiung #p1harmony intak #p1h smut #p1h x reader #p1h keeho #p1h theo #p1h jiung #p1h intak #p1harmony

[quirofiliac]

multiadored said: ✔

@multiadored​: chiko／ quick & easy plotting guide ／ accepting.

do i know your muse(s): yes | no | a little | tell me about your muse

setting: our verse | my verse | your verse | modern | alternate universe | other

pre-established relationships? yes | no | depends on the relationship

possible relationships: friends | classmate | co-worker | roommate | family, real or adopted | dating or blind date | married | friends with benefits | unrequited love | lending a hand | teacher - student | rivals | allies | partner-in-crime | enemies | protecter - guarded | business partners | spy - infiltrated | manipulator - manipulated | star-crossed | first meeting | other

i’m in the mood for: fluff | angst | horror | romance | humor | crime | hurt / comfort | action | supernatural | slice of life | crack | dark threads | light threads | any genre | multi-para | shorter para | one-line | any length | plotted threads | unplotted threads | other

feel free to: message me ooc | message me ic | tell me your ideas | write a starter | answer one of my opens | send a meme | reblog this with your preferences - let’s find common interests!

#multiadored #me leaning on u from behind: hello again. #so we already have a thing of kira and chiko doing this sort of thing where it's like... he leads her on. fully aware of how this is bad but #still does it because he can get things (nothing in... particular? just general things.) out of her because of it. does chiko realize this? #who knows! probably as it gets further and further down the line. (: but that's why kira always figures out some way or another to #reel her back in like it's nothing. he essentially wraps a rope around her neck like a noose and gives it One Firm yank the moment he thinks #she's acting out of line. and it can be something completely made up-- be it from his paranoia his idealized version of her crumbling or... #just? something that /he/ doesn't like. he's always there to pull her back when he sees that she's getting A Little Too adventurous. #and i can see this eventually panning towards him ''involving'' her in his kills but more-so on the level that he uses her. #to lure in potential targets. and even just as a general ''basis'' of a networking system. #someone is bothering her that ALSO happened to bother him? they're the next target; they were just there at the wrong place - wrong time. #i think he'd use chiko as a way to help control his urges-- she provides him with a long list of potentials. he doesn't say anything tho. #just kind of... does it. if she figures it out she figures it out. what's she gonna do? kira's too confident (arrogant even.) that #he has her wrapped around his finger. #because he's just So Damn Good at acting normal around her. it takes time for him to reveal his true self to her. and even when he does? #that's only a fraction. #he's still incredibly secretive. reclusive. withdrawn. only lets certain details show. #details that he thinks chiko wants to see and - thus - tricks her into feeling like she's even closer to him than before. #i also wanna say that in tandem to this-- he definitely would be more than willing to go on ''dates'' with chiko in diu!verse #to pacify her mom. he'd introduce himself as this perfect gentleman and lull her into this Amazing but false sense of security. #then come post!diu and he just fucking slaughters her. #bc he politely (in a casual tone. like he's talking about the weather.) recalls to chiko all the times she's bemoaned her mother #and how kira need pry only A Little and he's figuring out their relationship. #learns that he could probably get away with it. so she's one of his first kills when he's come ''back to life''. #easy target. an even easier kill. #he does up the house. gets rid of the body. /considers/ taking her hand but then gets rid of that too. because it's a little too old. #kira's a man with standards after all. and fast forward past the funeral. chiko spies him after what feels like months of nothing. #and then chiko tries to ''reconnect'' with him. something he doesn't know if he wants. but he does it anyway. because he's a good friend. (: #＊ 💥 摘発：out of character.

[hansolmates]

distance learning (m)

banner done by the beautiful @eerieedits​

summary; after their first hookup, jungkook isn’t so sure whether you’re serious about being exclusive. after all, people say things during sex. jungkook takes it in his own hands to figure out where you stand, and he realizes soon enough that eavesdropping is a bad habit pairing; neighbor!jungkook x (f) reader genre/warnings; fluff, humor, crack, insecure!jk, unresolved sexual tension, stressed!mc, this is really just unnecessary drama bc drama is fun™, sexting, dom kook’s still a meanie in control, posession kink, cock slapping, a blowjob, cockwarming, unprotected, creampie, squirting, (wrap the pickle before u tickle folks) and of course the excessive use of the petname [redacted] w/c; 6.1k a/n; haaaaaa three months later im finally posting pt 2! i figured that no matter how many times i edit/reread at this point i think it’s time to finally let this beast go!!! enjoyyy click here for part 1: remote learning drabbles; 01

if you enjoy this, please considering giving our pasta couple a like n’share💚

It’s been a week since the thing.

The remote-controlled vibrator thing. 

The whole sappy-love-confesion-during-sex thing. 

Jungkook is antsy, tail tucked in, perpetually wondering whether he went too far. You seemed to like it, and Jungkook definitely loved it. It was spicy and dirty and hot, and at the same time Jungkook thought he really made progress in expressing his feelings for you. Not only that, you said you liked him back!

At least, he thought you did. 

“I really said I’d feed her lasagna and cum in the same sentence,” Jungkook bemoans into his pillow, which still lingers faintly of your Redken shampoo. “I’m disgusting. She thinks I’m disgusting.” 

People say things during sex, Jungkook knows that. In the throes of passion and pleasure, people will say anything that comes to their mind, anything that fits the mood. Of course, you’d be tied in and say you like him back. But did you like him back as a friend? As a fuckbuddy? As something more? 

“Fucking text her,” Taehyung is tired of Jungkook’s wallowing, everytime he checks in on the app developer he’s brooding in one of three places. Today’s his bedroom. Taehyung dips under the blankets, and steals Jungkook’s pillow right under his nose.

Jungkook suppresses a whimper, face melding into the blankets. Now that pillow is going to smell like Taehyung.

“Text her what,” Jungkook replies despondently. 

“I don’t know, something along the lines of ‘I wanna follow through with my proposition of feeding you my cum and lasagna—not simultaneously. Wanna go on a date this weekend?’ It’s that simple,” Taehyung gets up in Jungkook’s face, dark eyes forcing him to bore right in. “Want me to do it for you?” 

“Noo, I’m an adult I can—”

“I did it for you.” 

Jungkook nearly knocks into Taehyung’s hard head, sitting up straight when he notices his phone behind his roommate’s back. This is what he gets for sharing passwords. Thankfully, the message is cleaner than Taehyung’s words, and you’ve already replied. 

[1:23] Jungkook: would you like to go out for dinner this weekend? pasta and wine?

[1:25] You: it’s a busy week this week 🥺 raincheck? 

“Was the sex that bad?” Taehyung frowns, reading the message twice. 

“N-no,” Jungkook is sweating. He isn’t sure anymore. 

Taehyung hands Jungkook back his phone, slowly, as if you’ll reply back with a change of your mind. Jungkook is a deflated balloon on his bed, feeling like a bum in his ratty sweater and a dateless weekend. 

“It’s just that,” Taehyung puts a hand on his lip, mulling, “busy people don’t reply that fast. Like even if she wasn’t busy, there’s a fifteen-minute leeway before replying.” 

This silly rule overrides Jungkook’s mind for the rest of the week. 

The gyms have been reopened for months, and Jungkook’s trainer misses him dearly. Jungkook meets with Saeroyi in the morning, eager to get a few jabs in with some fresh equipment. He tries to move on, distract himself with a couple of pumps and a match with Saeroyi. It feels great to sweat it off, but it doesn’t help sway Jungkook’s incessant thoughts. 

The ball is in your court now, Jungkook has nothing to do but wait. Some people are just bad texters, maybe you just happened to have your phone near you when Taehyung sent the message. Maybe you just wanted to cut Jungkook off as quickly as possible so you decided to reply fast and rip the band-aid. 

No, you’re definitely not that cold-hearted. 

Re-entering his apartment complex, his eyes linger towards where your room lies on the first floor. It’s all the way at the end of the hallway, and he’s tempted to just confront you and make sure that what you and him really had is indeed, over. Conversely, you could just really be having a bad week and you genuinely do want a raincheck. 

Jungkook’s eyes trail to his form. Still in his gym clothes, and a little sweaty from the travel time. If he gets caught, he can just tell you he’s doing a cooldown by running across the hallways. Not the first time it’s happened, afterall it led him to you at one point. 

He breaks into a soft jog, making a beeline to your front door. His feet squish against your old welcome mat. You haven’t changed it since Halloween, and he smiles fondly at the black scripted “Boo Y’all” written in script next to a chibi-ghost. 

His heart beats faster as his hand lingers by the door, ready to knock. Deep breaths. Who knows, he could just be overthinking (like usual.) 

“Fuck, Hobi!” 

Jungkook freezes, his knuckles a centimeter away from your door. He backs up as if he’s been burned. His heart has fallen all the way down to his ass, and intends to stay there because now he feels like a damn fool. 

The bed is creaking relentlessly, a rhythmic pattern that has Jungkook’s face crumbling at every spring. Jungkook’s face hovers over the door, his ear brushing against the wood. 

“C’mon, bunny,” the male voice is teasing, “you know you love having me over. It would satisfy both of us if you’d just let it go.” 

Bunny. A cute pet name, for sure. The way it rolls off the stranger’s tongue is natural, as if he’s been saying it for years. But what about being his doll, is that not good enough? 

You’re huffy, taking deep breaths. He doesn’t want to hear anymore. Jungkook has put himself through enough self-wallowing for the week. What if he was just a stepping stone to meeting new people that will satisfy you better? What if you just needed one good orgasm to get your flow back, and Jungkook’s job is done? Sure, there were no strings attached when he proposed to have sex with you, but he thought… 

No more thinking. Jungkook jogs away from the door, even going so far is to jog all the way up to the penthouse. 

He hates this. 

You hate this. 

It’s been five days since Hoseok’s arrival, and you are going bonkers. Why couldn’t he get a hotel or an AirBnB? Because he’s cheap as fuck, that’s why. Your dinky cousin has been clinging to you like a lonely koala, and while you found it cute in the 5th grade, it doesn’t translate well nearly two decades later. 

Every morning is the same. You make a subpar toast and Nutella breakfast, letting Hoseok’s slices go cold as you log in for work. You’ve been clocking in earlier in the hopes to finish the majority of your tasks before Hoseok wakes up, because by then you can barely function. Once he wakes up, he’s relentless, bouncing on the bed and talking your head off while you try to concentrate on whatever your boss is telling you. Whenever he jumps too hard, your cheap mattress causes your laptop to fly, and the only thing you can do is curse him out. Sometimes he plays Disney movies and sings in tandem, choreography and all. 

You know that Hoseok is stressed and this is his outlet, and you don’t have it in you to stop his incessant habits. He’s visiting your area because of a lucrative job offer nearby and the interviews are sporadic, making Hoseok linger in your apartment for hours at a time until he’s summoned for whatever test they want to throw at him. 

Most of the interviews are in the evening, and it’s when you can clock back in and finish your leftover assignments while Hoseok is also working. By the time he returns, you’re dog tired and so is he. 

Every night, you try to move away from Hoseok’s clingy self, as he grapples onto your waist and slings a thigh over your belly. You wish it were someone else sharing the bed with you. 

If you bring Jungkook into the picture however, you’d be burnt for the week. Complete crumbs. It would be too much stimulation for you, having to balance work, Hoseok’s incessant attitude, and putting on a face for Jungkook. Your relationship with the penthouse neighbor is barely budding, hardly watered considering Hoseok’s sudden visit. You cling to the fact that in a couple days you would be giving your undivided attention to Jungkook, most of your priorities out of the way, and most importantly, you’ll have your own room back. 

Maybe you could surprise him by giving him a pasta dinner, just like he proposed. 

Unable to get the thought out of your head, you blindly reach for your phone on the nightstand. It’s late, very late for a workday. The blue screen burns your eyes a bit, but you're determined to at least check up on Jungkook. You can’t take too long, otherwise you won’t be able to sleep and get him out of your head. Dear, unassuming cousin Hoseok is fast asleep next to you, due to the fact it’s nearly midnight. Making sure not to disrupt him, you carefully cup your phone in your hands, putting it on the lowest light setting. 

[11:54] You: hey, hope work hasnt been as draining for u as it’s been for me  ☠️  what’s your opinion on pasta sauces, red or white? 

Jungkook is normally a fast texter, at least from your experience. It’s you that’s the sporadic texter, sometimes taking hours to reply, other times in seconds. It never really mattered until now, however. But it takes five, ten, and finally fifteen minutes before you get a response. 

[12:09] Jungkook: ??? 

You frown, wondering what you said wrong. 

[12:10] You: do you not wanna do pasta anymore? Are you craving something else now?

[12:10] Jungkook: i don’t think it’d work out 

[12:10] You: why? 

[12:11] Jungkook: im sure you know why, bunny. 

Strange. He’s never called you bunny before, and in your opinion you think he’d be the bunny in the relationship—soft and cuddly on the outside, and an absolute horn ball in bed. Is this some sort of weird power play? Is he being passive aggressive on purpose? Whatever this game is, you’re not into it. Grumbling under your breath, you snake out of bed, looking blindly for your slippers in the dark. You’ll be in and out of Jungkook’s apartment in ten minutes. 

Just as your hand brushes the doorknob, your new roommate calls for you. 

“Bunny?” Hoseok calls blearily, and you’re staring straight at his cookie-printed eye mask, “what time is it, where are you going?” 

“Um, out,” you reply shortly, “I forgot I left my laundry in the dryer.” 

“Oh, m’kay. Come back soon, y’know I can’t sleep alone.” 

It’s then you realize. Bunny. Jungkook thinks that Hoseok and you are a thing. He really needs to stop eavesdropping on you. 

You feel your pussy frown. Your cousin is such a cockblock and he doesn’t even know it. Without an answer, you slip through your door and into the first free elevator. As you zing up the floors with the magical 1234 code, you work and rework your hair in and out of its style, wondering if you’ll look more presentable with your hair messy or thrown back. 

As soon as you reach the penthouse, you burst into action. “Jungkook!” you cry, pounding the front door, “it’s a misunderstanding, open up!” 

The door immediately swings open after the first three knocks, and you punch Taehyung in the chest. 

“You look awful,” Kim Taehyung drawls. Taehyung is wearing nothing but a cranberry red silk kimono, and you have to avert your eyes and focus on his face, which is even worse because he’s looking at you like an all-knowing psychic. 

“Gee, thanks,” you try to move past him, but he’s blocking the door. 

“Jungkook’s in a meeting with some foriegn developers,” Taehyung talks with his hands, pretending like he has any idea of the nature of his roommate’s job, “when it’s this late he doesn’t leave his office until morning. Door’s locked.” 

“Well then, can you relay a message?” 

“Depends, is this message going to hurt him further?” 

Oh my goodness, when Taehyung wants to be he is such an enabler. “Tell Jungkook he’s done wallowing. Instead of jumping to conclusions, maybe he should’ve just asked me why we couldn’t go on a date this week.” 

“You could’ve also just told him you have a man on the side.” 

“Ohmygod you two are two iotas of a combined braincell!” you shove your hands in your pocket, hotly scrolling through your phone so you can shove a picture in his face. “This is Jung Hoseok, my cousin who derailed my plans this week by crashing in my too-tiny apartment and forced me to raincheck with Jungkook. He’s a blabbermouth and would tell everyone—my parents, my grandparents, my great-aunts—about Jungkook if he found out I was dating, and I’m not ready for that,” you zoom in on the picture, despite the fact that the screen is practically touching Taehyung’s nose, “and the reason Hoseok calls me bunny is not sexual—you two are fucking gross—I had front tooth problems in elementary school and I had a brace on my two big teeth, it was not pretty.” 

“Ah, bunny.” Taehyung echoes with wide eyes, looking at you as if you’re now the one with sage wisdom, “it all makes sense now.” He gulps, taking in the old photo of a mini-Hoseok and you, yourself frowning to cover your huge braces and Hoseok trying to pull your gums apart with his greasy little fingers. 

Satisfied by Taehyung’s evident squirming, you decide you’re too tired to further this interaction. “Tell the other half of your cell for me, will ya?” You’re already turning away, pressing repeatedly at the elevator button, “I would love to go on a date with him as soon as he gets his head out of his ass.” 

Jungkook is tired, but not tired enough to murder Taehyung and make it look like an accident. 

When he has late meetings, Taehyung is usually quieter around the apartment, and even gets Jungkook a hot meal once he wakes up in the afternoons. Today, Jungkook slept through and through. Normally he’d wake up midway to Taehyung’s television dramas, or the clanging of last night’s dishes but nope, not a peep. 

And today’s hot meal is takeout from Jungkook’s favorite ramen restaurant. That only means one thing—something has gone to shit and Taehyung feels guilty. 

Jungkook sips his tonkotsu impossibly slow, hearing Taehyung’s words—your words from last night—clear as day. Taehyung even describes in detail where the nickname bunny comes from, down to how miserable you looked in the photo with your monstrously metal-bent teeth. Oh, how he wishes he can swaddle you between the blankets, hold you and comfort you while you deal with your family. 

[2:45] Jungkook: doll, im so sorry

[2:45] Jungkook: please, i booked us a weekend at that new spa that just opened downtown. The tickets are flex, so if your cousin doesn’t leave by then week we can always reschedule 

[2:51] Jungkook: baby doll… 

This is far worse than believing you didn’t like him. Now Jungkook is antsy, knowing you deserve all the space in the world because of how silly he was being. You owe him nothing. If he just waited it out until you were ready, he wouldn’t be in this mess. He’s potato-esque throughout the day, thankfully Taehyung gives him space as he watches hours of mindless television. 

You don’t reply until very late into the night. 

[10:10] You: IM ALIVE--barely!! And mr. jeon, you’re not only a triple texter, but an ellipsis texter???? You’re asking for trouble

Jungkook has no shame, immediately texting you back. He can’t help it, he’s smitten. 

[10:12] Jungkook: taehyung explained everything. It’s all his fault. Don’t ask why, it’s his fault. Im so sorry. 

[10:12] You: mm, it’s okay. Just a misunderstanding. I was pretty upset last night, but i’ve been pretty tired this week so my fuse is short. 

[10:14] Jungkook: you should go to sleep now, doll. We’ll have time together after your cousin leaves

[10:14] You: just a couple more minutes. Miss u and your cute face 

[10:16] Jungkook: 

[10:16] Jungkook: will this hold u off until saturday?

Jungkook is a pile of goo. Pink, warm, happy heart-glittered goo. It takes a minute for you to reply, and for that whole minute Jungkook is kicking his legs under the sheets of his bed like an eager five-year old who just gave his crush his Valentine. Maybe it’s taking you so long to reply because you’re trying to send a selfie of your own, running off to the bathroom to take a cute selfie if your cousin is asleep in bed. 

[10:19] You: fuck, i kno that’s supposed to be a cute selfie, but i want you so bad. I want to sit on your face, let your lips glisten with my pussy as i cum all over that pretty face

[10:19] You: i wanna touch myself so badly but fuckin’ hoseok is out here snoring like he’s gon hack a lung. Panties are so wet 🥺🥺 your doll is needy for you, wanna be played with

[10:20] Jungkook: lfjsdl;fkjs;fjsoisfoisljsdfsdklfjsdklf 

He throws his phone across the bed, feeling himself twitch in his red flannel pyjama bottoms. The thought of you so hot and needy when you’re ten floors down has Jungkook absolutely livid. He doesn’t know how he’s going to talk to you, comfort you without missing you like crazy. 

Jungkook thinks back to what he has in his fridge. His contractor sent him a cheese assortment, maybe he can bring it down pretending to be a friendly neighbor. Maybe Hoseok can go to the convenience store to conveniently grab a bottle of wine. He can make both of you cum in five minutes, flat. 

Akin to a dumb, horny teenager, he sighs. He rubs his palm longingly over his member. He’s horny, but he’s also eager to see your face. Talk to you, get reacquainted with your routine and sneak his way into it. He wants to be a part of your life, and he’s hoping you will too. 

[5:02] You: Jungkook, you left me hanging last night

[5:05] Jungkook: baby doll… i wouldnt have been able to handle myself if we continued

[5:06] You: so you decided to dip :( 

[5:06] You: could u play with your doll a lil bit, kook? Hobi left for another interview

[5:08] You: PNG.0901

Jungkook was a fool to believe that you would drop him like that. No, Jungkook can see now that you two are a match made in heaven. You have a bite, never afraid to speak your mind when needed. This translates to a hunger you shamelessly share with Jungkook, both sexual and romantically intimate. He almost wishes he could’ve seen you act like a bitch to Taehyung last night, he can only imagine how sexy you looked telling him off. 

He has the technology to blow up your picture, the one that’s currently having him close his laptop and shove it to the side. He spreads his legs further across his glass desk, trying to find comfort between his tight pants as he absorbs every bit of your skin. 

It’s nothing too risque, but it’s nothing short of sensual. The room is dark, but it’s very clearly a picture of your hand between your thighs. Again, you’re between your wall and bed, squished between your office chair with your legs spread as far as they can go. Your skin is so soft looking, plush as you press two fingers between your damp panties. Adorable. 

[5:12] Jungkook: you know why i never replied last night? Because i was too busy jacking off to your dirty words doll. U really need your mouth washed

[5:12] You: wanna wash it with something else🍆

[5:12] You: please kook, i need something. Hoseok will come home soon and i might rip his head off. Help prevent a murder

Jungkook chuckles, clutching his phone closer to his body. He loves how much you’re opening up to him. Last week feels like so long ago, how you were all flushed and wide-eyed at the proposition of sex. He thinks you two can have a lot of fun getting to know each other, both emotionally and physically. 

[5:15] Jungkook: i was gonna wait until i sent this, but i think my doll needs it. Here’s what i was doing last night

[5:17] Jungkook: MP4.13

He… has a meeting in five minutes. A very important, very serious meeting. Jungkook jacked off enough last night, now it’s your turn. He hopes you like it. It’s not a very long video, barely a twenty-second clip of him fisting his cock. Taehyung was still home at the time, so he had to keep quiet. However, he couldn’t get the image of you out of his head that night, rubbing your thighs together in a cramped mattress as you try to erase the dirty thoughts of him. A murmur of your name, and the image of his precum dripping down his knuckles. You hope it’s enough. 

[5:34] You: u make everything so much easier💜✨

[5:35] You: MP4.234

Two minutes. The video you send is even shorter than his, barely fifteen seconds. You’re in a much more comfortable position, horizontal on the bed. Your shirt is ridden up to the underside of your breasts, one hand clutching your bare breast so hard he can see your cotton plush skin bulging between your fingers. The other hand has your panties shifted to the side, three fingers in your sopping cunt. 

“Mmh—fuck, f-uck Jungkook—” the words are mere breaths, puffs of air as you reach your orgasm. 

His call connects. He nearly drops his phone on the glass.  

“Jungkook!” Andreas from Germany wishes him brightly, “you look great, glowing even!” 

Jungkook blushes, and mutters something about having to go to the bathroom before they start. 

Taehyung makes himself scarce on Saturday. He packs a duffel bag for himself and takes the PlayStation, knowing it’ll be a long weekend at Jimin’s. 

Jungkook is on livewire for the morning. He even express-delivers a pasta roller to his house, and he spends all morning testing out the perfect pasta dough. His black apron is covered in flour, and he can barely comprehend the tutorial that’s teaching him on his flatscreen. 

He’s on autopilot. He hasn’t contacted you since he sent that selfie, and he doesn’t intend to. Jungkook understands why you made yourself scarce in the beginning of the week, preferring to raincheck and pin your relationship for a better time. Jungkook’s brain is overridden with you, swollen with thoughts of you. You would never be able to focus if you kept in contact like you did last night, especially if you can’t get away from Hoseok. 

Absence surely makes the heart grow fonder. 

Slapping his hands against his trousers, he surveys his handiwork. His pasta is appropriately floured and wrung, each handful of fresh dough wrapped in little nests. Off the stove is a bechamel sauce, a base ready to be cooked in whatever kind of pasta dish you want. He thinks the two of you would have fun making your own non-traditional pasta dishes. 

The soft knocks on his front door interrupts his train of thought, and he knows it’s you. 

You stand in front of the door, impossibly small in a large shirt and a plain pair of leggings. At the sight of Jungkook, a smile as warm and sweet as hot chocolate worms its way to your face, and you collapse into his arms. 

He sighs gratefully, sinking into your small body. When he pulls away, he can’t help but frown at your apparent exhaustion. You must’ve come back from something tedious, because sweat dots your brow and your eyes are still puffy and dark. Your chest arches bonelessly into his, hoping to melt in his embrace. 

“Hi,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies. 

“It’s Saturday.” 

“It is Saturday.” 

You rub your nose between the fabric of his button down, “I should’ve been more specific when I wanted to raincheck on you,” you murmur into the white cotton. 

“No, I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions,” Jungkook whispers, even though you’re the only two people on the floor, “I’ll make it better, yeah? I’m going to love you so good tonight, won’t have to lift a finger—” 

You shake your head, looking at him calmly. “Jungkook, it’s been a long week. Hobi got the job, I spent all this morning moving his two-ton speaker set into his new apartment. I don’t want anything gentle. I want you to rail me into next week,” Jungkook chokes on his saliva when you reach to cup his dick through his pants, already sporting a chub, “fuck me breathless. I want—no, I need this.”

Anything for you, but Jungkook isn’t going to let your mouth runneth over that easily. He wants that too, obviously. But again, you’ve made him wait. 

Bending slightly, Jungkook whispers darkly into your ear, “Who said you can decide the rules here, doll?”  he’s been waiting all week to slip back into this persona, one that has you shivering delightfully under his touch. A small, secret smile tucks itself under your lips as you tilt your head down, but Jungkook catches it. It shows you’ve missed it too. He lets your sneaky smile  slide for now, only because he’s missed you so much and you’ve had a long day. 

“If I wanna fuck you rough, I’ll fuck you rough. If I want to edge you until you're sobbing on the corner of the kitchen table, I’ll do it,” Jungkook spits every declaration into your skin, biting at your shoulder so hard you cry deliciously. 

He drags you over to the living room, and he could sing at how easily you follow directions. Both of you have been tied up this week, and some hard sex would definitely ease that frustration, “Knees,” Jungkook commands, and you waste no time sinking to the floor, hands atop your knees. 

You look up through your lashes, eyes big and glassy. His poor girl is tired, and he finds it all the more attractive that you’re willing to push that aside to make eachother feel good. 

“Pretty, pretty,” he chants, pulling down his pants and letting his dick spring free, “suck.” 

You waste no time, and he watches as your eyes dilate over the expanse of his cock, half-hard and ready for your mouth. Your nails dig into your knees as you start with featherlight kisses, finally turning into sloppy smacks as you lick all over his dick. 

Jungkook groans, weaving a hand into your hair to force his dick down your throat. You gag at the sudden intrusion, but it doesn’t stop you from taking it like a champ. Hard, deep thrusts that he’s sure you can feel all the way in your stomach. You gag at each thrust, but don’t let up as your hot tongue wraps him up and licks at the pre-cum. 

“Fuuuuck, doll,” he rips you away, his now hard dick springing away. He’s a little shaky on his knees, but he plants his feet down as he grips his cock, slapping the tip of it across your cheek. It smears your face, glossing your flushed cheeks in a mixture of your saliva and pre-cum. “Are you trying to make me cum first? So sweet, you don’t even care if you cum tonight, hmm? You owe me, making you believe you had another man.” 

This isn’t true, of course. The both of you know it was just miscommunication, but it doesn’t hurt to play it up for pleasure. 

“N-no Kook, I’m yours,” you grapple at his pants, pulling them down so he can get them off completely. 

“Right. You’re. Mine.” With every punctuated word is a light slap to your cheek, and you take it. His cock bounces right off of you, until you finally move your head to suckle at the engorged tip, “I’m keeping you forever, doll. Don’t you know that?” 

Throughout this whole process, you don’t move, other than the minute clawing at your knees. You’re so good to him. Jungkook pulls away and ignores the ache in his member for now, taking off your clothes for himself. It’s like unwrapping a gift, revealing every bit of skin reserved for his viewing. “So sexy,” he remarks once he’s got you bare, pulling you onto the couch. He’s still in his button down shirt, his date night shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. However, he lets your hands inch under the stiff fabric, feeling for his taut muscle. 

He guides your aching cunt to his cock, sinking you down. It’s a tight fit, and you both moan at the brush of contact. Despite not being prepped, you’re still slick, and it makes up for it. He doesn’t thrust up or anything, just guides his lips to yours with a threadbare brush of his finger. 

“Kook, d-do you want me to move?” you mumble against his cherry-flavored lip balm. 

“Good dolls don’t move until they’re told,” your eyes widen innocently at the statement, and you crumple against his mouth, at his next words, “cum like this.” 

“Awh shit, please no,” you tear up, burying your head between the crook of his neck, “I can’t wait.” 

“Thought you wanted me to fuck you into next week. You can’t do this one little favor for me?” he’s being so mean, and you hate him for it. Haven’t you earned it? “C’mon baby, I thought you wanted me?” 

It’s silent, save for the soft Italian restaurant music playing from whatever tutorial he’s hooked up to his television. It’s terribly cliche, like you’re in the porno version of a European romance movie. He thinks nothing of it, not when your juices are dripping on his thighs, your skin soft and pliant in his grip. Jungkook drums his fingers against your spine, seemingly uncaring that you’re stuffed deep into your womb. 

On the other hand, it’s the only thing you’re acutely aware of. His thick, warm cock is nestled between your folds, right where it should be. You clench once, twice, thankful that this isn’t some crazed wet dream. States of sleep and consciousness have blurred this week, you’re lucky that you made it all the way up to Jungkook’s apartment. 

You can’t cum like this. You need to bait him. You moan, the sound slow and rumbly against your throat as you weave your fingers through his dark tresses. Moving the strands aside to kiss his cold metal earrings you murmur, “I love this, Kookoo. I’ve wanted you all week, I was going crazy. I kept playing last week in my head over and over. I even put in my little vibrator, hoping you’d pull up the app.” 

Jungkook’s teeth clench, and his grip is borderline painful as it digs into your hips. 

“I haven’t been able to cum all week, and I want to do it all over you,” you husk, playing with the roots of his hair. 

You can feel yourself dripping, wetness lubricating you even further and probably staining his thighs and couch with your arousal. Every second that passes is killer, and the fluttering towards your pussy tighten further as Jungkook’s cock twitches in response. Your pussy continues its ministrations, butterfly-like flaps against his hot member that have you vibrating.

“Mm, oh, I’ll cum for you,” and surprisingly, you might be able to. All this dirty talking has gotten you riled up. Just a little bit more and—

Jungkook shoves you off his cock, forcing you to land on the couch. 

“No!” you cry, wiping your face. Your cheeks are ruddied, and you’re annoyed. The coolness of the autumn air has you feeling chilly, and you want to scream at Jungkook for disrupting your orgasm. You feel empty. 

You’re not annoyed for long however, as Jungkook flips you on your back and gives you what you’ve been craving. 

“You glide right in, don’t ya doll,” the friction is deliciously blazing, his hands pushing you further into the large couch as he takes you from behind. Hot, fast smacks against your ass come from the way his balls bounce back and forth as he pistons his cock in and out. “F-fuck, you’re so good to me. So good, I love having you like this. All pretty and dripping, you really know how to make a guy wait, huh?” 

“Mmph! N-no—hng, but I’m y-yours, Kook,” you garble out, and you’re practically eating the throw pillow you’re propped up on as he slams you further into the cushions, so hard you may fall off, “all yours, honey. N-no more waiting. I want you, want you so badly—ah fuck!” 

“It’s worth it, you’re worth it,” he says over and over, his thrusts becoming sporadic and losing their rhythm once he feels you clenching uncontrollably. He presses his two fingers to your sloppy bud, swirling around the juices eagerly. “C-cum, baby doll. You deserve it, yeah? Cum on this cock, let go.” 

You’re starting to see spots, black and white alike. Finally shying away from his cock you rest on your back, but Jungkook doesn’t stop his fingers from flying across your clit. One look at his face and you’re gone. Pretty brown eyes, overflowing with affection. The feeling is different, and it’s the acute pressure between your stomach and pussy that makes you notice what’s going on with your body. The pressure finally releases, your eyes fluttering shut as you rest your cheek on the cushions. You dissolve, a mess on the couch as white hot liquid ejects from your body, spraying Jungkook’s thighs and cushions. 

“Y-you just,” your lover’s mouth is parted open like a baby kitten, uncaring as to how the dark liquid stains his couch fabric. 

“Squirted?” you answer breathlessly, a melty smile on your lips, “y-yeah.” 

 It sets him off, a button left dormant until now. The thatches of hair that surround his cock are dripping with your mess, a cold reminder that he got you to this high. He doesn’t hesitate to slip his cock back into you, and you gasp at the overstimulation. You try not to focus on how your body is a bundle of lit nerves, only to help Jungkook reach his completion. 

“S-so perfect,” he warbles, pressing kisses to your jaw, chin, lips. Each thrust is deep, thick and heady with emotion. “Mm, I wanna cream this pussy sooo badly—mm, all mine, all wet and warm and so so sweet—” 

He cries out your name, biting into your shoulder as your walls fill further with his hot cream. Your thighs are shaking from sensory overload, and Jungkook has to hold you down and soothe you into a state of reality to cling on. 

Satiated, he nuzzles into your chest, feeling absolutely featherlight. 

“T-thank you,” you say gratefully, when at least three out of your five senses return to your body. Your hands dip down to clutch his cheek, pinching lightly at the warm skin.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Jungkook exhales into your breasts, “d-didn’t even feed you my cum yet.” 

You scoff, pinching his cheek again. You’re aware of his softening cock between your folds, ready to seep the efforts of today’s coupling, but your stomach says otherwise. You crane your neck to make note of the kitchen island, staring curiously at the metal pasta roller and the little nests of carby goodness that decorate the cutting board. 

“Feed me pasta first, please. You have all night to feed me dessert.” 

Jungkook giggles into your stomach, he doesn’t mind feeding you in that order. 

bonus.

“So.” 

“So?” you have cream sauce on your lips, happily slurping on an angel hair. 

“You haven’t told me you liked me back yet,” Jungkook rests his palm in the swell of his cheek, content with watching you eat from where he’s standing on the counter. He leans his upper body across the marble table, muscles rippling against his white shirt. 

“Oh, I did!” you’re affronted, swinging your legs on the high chair, “I totally did last week!” 

“Yeah, well. Can you say it while I’m not inside you?” 

“Okay,” you blink, quirking him with a simple smile, “I like you.” 

“That was anticlimactic,” Jungkook jokes at the brevity of your confession, yet his heart betrays the charm he finds in the three words. 

You scoff, jabbing your fork in the little next of springy noodles. “What do you want to hear? I’ve wanted you since I’ve moved in? I think you’re really handsome when you pace the hallway doing work on your phone? I like the way you cook?” 

“Keep going,” Jungkook sing songs, walking over to hug you from behind.

The stool swings back and forth as he rocks the two of you, softly and slowly so you don’t throw up your dinner. He noses into your neck, inhaling your scent and committing it to your memory. 

“Mm, dessert first,” you insist, twirling around the stool so you can wrap your legs around his waist. “And then I can tell you exactly how much I like you,” your fingers play with the buttons of his shirt, walking the pads of your fingers across his chest. 

Jungkook grins, hands reaching to cup your bottom and bring you to his bedroom. Of course, he’s always willing to satisfy your insatiable appetite. 

#jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #btsguild #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #bts smut #bts fic

[burnedbyshoto]

through the looking glass

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!” “I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

— Or in which you cross paths with Shinazugawa Sanemi and nothing is ever the same again.

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pairing: shinazugawa sanemi x fem!reader

warnings: 18+, nsfw, fluff, cursing, an instance of demon slaying, mirror sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, slight breeding kink, unprotected sex, cursing, praise kink, this is my first time writing for this fandom oh no

word count: 8,420

a/n: I fell asleep while editing this, good reminder to maybe not lay in a comfy blanket when trying to get shit out on time????? i love sanemi sm tho, please enjoy!

kinktober day 15 main kink: mirror sex | kinktober masterlist

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The sky was always prettier at night.

It wasn’t anything against the sky during the day! As a matter of fact, you also loved the light blue sky just at noon. You loved it wholly! You loved the way the sweet smell of crops of the earthy dewy scent traveled in the morning, and you loved how every creature in existence seemed to hum with life. The morning sky and earth were always busy.

But, you always found the deep dark blue-purple, nearly black night sky to be ethereal.

If you closed your eyes and listened closely, the nighttime, silent with white noise hanging through every quiet move of wind, felt like another world. Out near the countryside, not quite the city and not quite the farmlands, you were able to live a life where you felt safe, felt normal. You and your friends were always screaming and chasing each other through the streets following the setting sun. Your curfew hours pushed back for the night, letting you relax.

You loved to sit just at the edge of the farmed roads, right where the light from the town just disappeared into blackness. You would sit there, eyes bright, fingers pointed at the sky as you took in the irreplicable night sky. At sixteen years, you had decided to venture out on your own; your friends said that they wouldn’t be able to join you because of their own busy schedule and insisted that you don’t go on account of the few vanishing people the past few nights.

But, you were never one to pay mind to others’ opinions; your own mind set on seeing the supposed asteroid shower that night in tandem with the full blue moon was to be a sight you couldn’t miss. So, you laughed, scratching the back of your neck as you sigh. 

“Fine, I won’t go,” you lied to them, and they smiled in gratefulness.

But, like the liar that you are, you found yourself rushing out of your home, your fingers clutching at your kimono as you run. The sun had already set, and if you were to make sure that you would make the sighting, you were going to need to get there now.

Eventually, you made it to that pathed dirt road, your eyes scanning the darkened sky with intense focus as you began to search for the asteroid shower you were promised. With the bright, beautiful moon in the sky, your feet stamping onto the road with your impatience and excitement, you listened to the whistling wind and chirping bugs as you waited.

Nothing abnormal or out of the ordinary.

It was tranquil, quiet, calm.

And finally, when the backdrop of the night sky served as the background to the beautiful shower of asteroids, a single sound that you’ve never heard before echoed from before you and immediately made your stomach sicken. 

Someone was eating in the fields right before you, the sound of a person, maybe an animal, eating something as if it was starving. Slowly, the air filled with fickle laughter, a noise that had your heart racing as you stood up. Your attention no longer focused on the beautiful night sky, but instead, two pairs of yellow and red eyes staring at you.

“Oh? Would you look at that! Two humans already, and it's only three hours into the night!” a voice cackled, and even with the shroud of darkness brought by the hours of the night, you recognized what the not humans were eating.

It was a person.

Unable to scream due to fear, the horror burned through your veins as you tried to scramble to your feet and run away, only to find that you couldn’t even move. You began to cry instead. Fat tears welling down your cheeks as they stalked toward you at a speed you couldn’t start to believe was human or animal, and you curled into yourself, eyes unable to gaze up at the sky one last time.

“So this is where you shithead demons have been fucking hiding?!” a voice practically roared behind you, and it was then you shrieked when a burst of wind exploded over you and a man dressed in a weird black uniform with a white haori with the kanji for ‘kill’ printed on it. 

What the fuck was fucking going on?!

You pinched your skin, wondering if, by chance, the gods had cursed you at the very moment and forced you to hallucinate some strange reality. 

“T-That’s a Hashira,” one of the not-human humans gasped, arm tugging at his friend. “We don’t stand a chance!”

What the fuck was a Hashira?!

“Like hell, we don’t!” the other snarled in defensive anger. You managed to push yourself onto your forearms, your knees still too weak to carry your standing weight. “Look at all his scars, gotta be hanging by a damn thread. He’s not even looking at us!”

You were taken back by that statement. Why wasn’t the third lunatic looking at them?! You snapped your attention from the non-human humans to look at the white-haired man who was staring at you. Your jaw dropped in your shock and slight embarrassment at the way his scarred face took you off-guard for a moment. Why was he looking at you and not the non-human humans?!

And in horror, you watched the psycho scarred man in front of you unsheathed a katana.

A katana.

The ringing of metal loud in your ear as you scrambled to your feet, this man was genuinely insane. Who still carried such weapons in this time period?! The samurai were no longer around, and he was dressed in something that looked weaker than your own kimono!

“Ni no kata: Sousou-Shina to Kaze,” the psycho samurai man spat, and if you hadn’t already believed you weren’t hallucinating already, you definitely did now. Jagged, solid apparitions of claw marks appeared from the air as the psycho man shot forward, the glinting menace of his katana tearing through the necks of both the non-human humans with such horrifying ease. You screamed. 

The terrified scream didn’t stop afterward, only seems to increase in horror when you watched the bodies crumble into smoke and ash, their voices still muttering last words, bitter and abhorrently angry at being murdered. The psycho samurai had beheaded these non-human humans at such power and strength he had destroyed their living bodies! 

Was this because you hadn’t thanked your aunties for adding that one extra meat bun when you noticed after going home?! No, it had to have been for breaking that perverted boy's nose the other day, and this was the curse he placed on you. Physical violence was never the answer; you vehemently prayed to your gods as you begged for forgiveness. Please spare your pathetic life.

Your jaw dropped as you watched the psycho samurai man, with what seemed like proficient knowledge and experience, flick his blade. Blood splattered off the blade, onto the floor, disintegrating too. And well, fuck the gods.

Spinning on your heel, you ran as fast as you possibly could, your chest heaving and nerves entirely shot because if you were hallucinating this badly, you needed to get home. Maybe that candy you ate earlier today from the snot-nosed brat was some weird drug. City kids could never be trusted.

“Are you okay?” a voice gruffed by your ear, and you shrieked, seeing the psycho man seemingly appear beside you. His footsteps were silent as he so obviously ran to catch up to you, and through your frightening horror, you found yourself tripping and falling onto your ass. Staring up at the wholly scarred man in front of you. 

You had initially thought it was just his face that was scarred, but no, it was obviously more. There were jagged, ugly cuts lining his pectorals, abdomen, and if you weren’t making it up, you noticed some on his arms. Every piece of exposed flesh was lined with intense scars.

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged from the floor, your hands raised, trying to get this psycho to leave you alone. “I-I-I don’t think I taste that good? I’ve tried my blood before, and it’s disgusting, true fact! Mosquitos don’t even like me that much!”

“I don’t eat humans, I—” the psycho samurai man tried to speak, but you were far from done pleading for your life.

“My mom says I have a thick neck! Called me an ox or something! I’m sure you don’t want to cleave off my head like you did the others?! Oh my god, am I gonna die?!” you squeaked, your fingers digging crescent shaped wounds into your arms as you began to cry. “I don’t wanna die!” you wailed, and then just the slightest bit pathetically: “I just wanted to see the asteroid shower.”

The psycho man seemed to grow irritated, his lips pulling back into a small snarl before he rolled his eyes. With tears in your eyes, you watched as the man threw his katana to the side, much too far away from him to use on you, and in the dim lights of the town behind you, you watched the shadows grow on his face as he sat down before you.

Not close enough to make you panic, but not far enough you were squinting to see him.

“My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi,” the psycho samurai man explained, and your eyes narrowed.

“That’s not a god or demon I’m aware of,” you muttered under your breath, but it seemed he heard it by the sour glare he gave you. You stilled under his weighted ton glare, your face warming as you averted your gaze. 

“I’m not a god,” he spoke firmly, his arms folding underneath his chest. There was the chance he was a demon, you couldn’t help but think. “Nor am I demon.” You wilted.

“Rabid mountain boy?” you guessed, your nerves and adrenaline are still pounding way too heavy for you to filter your words.

He huffed, “No.”

“Well then—”

“Just let me explain,” he stressed, an eyebrow raised at you, and you stilled. It took a bit, but eventually, you nodded. “My name is Shinazugawa Sanemi, and I am a part of an organization called the Kisatsutai.”

Kisatsutai, the Demon Slayer Corps.

It rang an old bell in your memories, something distant, aged. Maybe a tall tale your grandparents had told you.

“It’s exactly as you think it to be,” he spoke, and you found your gaze rising to meet his. You realized even with the dull, yellowing light of the faraway lanterns, his eyes were a clouded purple. “Those two shitheads that tried to attack you are — were — demons. Yes, demons still exist,” he followed immediately as if knowing what stupid question you were going to ask next. Your mouth closed, and a chill ran down your spine knowing that non-human demon creatures that ate humans actually existed in this world. How had you been so unaware? “I’m a Hashira though, the wind Hashira to be exact. You’re living in my section of the territory I’m assigned to keep safe, so don’t worry. Demons don’t come out during the day; the sun kills them, so keep indoors at night, and you won’t have any issues.”

You remained silent, your mind twisting and turning as you tried to digest his words that seemed to rip apart your life. Sure, there was always a chance of being murdered in life; you weren’t that naive of an idiot to think so. But you never would have guessed that the potential murder you would have was a demon. It just seemed childish.

“T-That’s why they disintegrated?” you eventually babbled, your mind and consciousness entirely overloaded. “Are you some sun blooded person? How did you kill them?”

Sanemi stared at you but grunted. He rose to his feet and offered you a hand, “Top secret, can’t tell you.”

That wasn’t a good enough answer, and your mouth opened, ready to retaliate. 

“I’m not trying to be a jerk,” Sanemi spoke, his hand tensing yet again in apparent effort to get you to grab it. “I’ll explain to you the bullshits of the reality of life later, but fortunately, this wasn’t the only area with demons nearby. So, unless you want me leaving you out here alone.”

A frown curled on your face, but with an unspoken level of trust, you grabbed his hand. You tried not to show how shocked and just awed you were at the calloused, entirely strong palms he had. You had no doubt in mind that he was a master swordsman, that title of Hashira seemed to be a big thing too, and the strength and power and callousness of his palm proved it.

“I’ll walk you home, pipsqueak; let’s get a move on it.”

Nodding your head quickly, you tore your hand from his and walked.

The walk was silent, and you could feel his presence lingering behind you like a hot coal in your pocket. You looked behind to see if he was still there several times, and each time he was staring straight ahead, eyes focused on something far away.

“You’ll be back tomorrow, Shinazugawa-san?” you ask as you made your way to the entrance of your home. You weren’t moving to go in, trying to figure out what he meant by explaining it all later.

“Tomorrow evening before I work,” Sanemi confirms, arms folding again.

You nod, “How old are you, Shinazugawa-san?”

He narrows his eyes but eventually rolls them, “Eighteen.”

Only two years older than you were, yet his hands felt like those of a war-veteran elder. It almost seemed like you and he grew up in entirely different worlds. You nod some more, absorbing his words and skills with better clarity as you finally begin to retreat past the gates. “Well, thank you for saving my life, Shinazugawa-san. I’ll leave—”

“You can watch it tomorrow night,” he said, face void of emotions.

You blink, “What?”

Sanemi rolls his eyes, looking entirely unimpressed. “The asteroid shower? The one you were watching or wanted to watch? Tomorrow night, another one will be happening.”

“O-Oh,” you felt warm, a smile spreading across your face as you nodded. “Thank you for letting me know!”

He nods too, a sharp inhale whistling through the air before his shoulders relax, the tension leaving his body altogether. “Well, until tomorrow evening.”

“Goodnight, Shinazugawa-san,” you politely bow. “Stay safe tonight.”

“...you too.”

And when you pull up from the bow, he’s gone. 

The next evening, Sanemi shows up again. The sun is still in the sky, barely on its decline, and the summer day's warmth is slowly cooling down. As promised, Sanemi answers all of your questions, or well, tries to answer it. Some questions you have, he roughly snarks that those are stupid questions that shouldn’t ever be asked again (i.e., you asking if he was a child of the sun and that's why the demons had died, you asking if he had grown up in the woods and that’s why he was so scarred, you asking if it was only him in this supposed corps). He makes it pretty clear and unmistakable right away that all demons are evil. That he has the power to kill most demons as he is now and is continuing to train himself daily to ensure that he will one day help eradicate the strongest demon. That had turned into a slight argument on how you seriously doubted an eighteen-year-old possessed the power to murder a thousand-year-old demon who has yet to be killed despite the numbers who have tried.

But Sanemi, for all that was worth speaking of, was strangely enticing. Whenever your family or friends peeked their nosy heads in to try and hear your conversations with the psychotic looking stranger, his rather brash and abrasive tone of talking melded away into one of perfect formality and intelligence you quickly forgot he had. It was almost devious of him to have charmed your mother as soon as he did despite his rather inappropriate getup — he refused to cover up.

Faster than you would have liked, the setting sun began to turn scarlet red and royal purple against the sky, and you watched one of the nine apparent Hashira walking away, his body disappearing in the crowds of people that were moving about in the town. But, he was taller than most of them, and with that head of white hair, you watched him leave until you could no longer. 

“Come back again, please, Shinazugawa-san?” you had asked right before he left, your heart hammering in your chest.

He looked at you, unsure, a million emotions flashing through his clouded eyes. Ignoring the way your family and friends were watching you through the obvious crack in the door, you looked at Sanemi, who rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll see.”

That was good enough for you.

Better yet, the asteroid shower returned that night, and as you took it in with a star dazed smile, you thanked Sanemi, wherever he was.

It seemed to become some sort of ritual for both of you.

Sanemi showing up, both of you talking in the courtyard of your home for a few minutes. Some days he showed up with enough time to eat dinner with your family, who were intrigued to know who he was. Some days your friends refused to leave your side, so Sanemi would as calmly as he could interact with them. Turns out a few of them reminded him of his own friends, and a sense of kinship formed between them all.

But as the sunset and you wished him well and luck, you always asked for him to return.

Sanemi would always respond with uncertainty. But the next day, he was there.

Some days he had more bandages on his body; some days, he looked straight up sick. There were scary days where he wouldn’t appear at all, and he’d be back in two days apologizing. He had come across a few Lower Moons and was hospitalized then had a meeting, he would explain. There were some days he’d let you grab his hand as he explained that he wouldn’t be back for a few days; there was a meeting in Headquarters, and it took a day to get to and a day to return from. Three days have gone from his usual postings, so he would have to spend an additional four days heavily working to make up for his disappearance. 

“Fuckers aren’t as strong as they should be anymore,” Sanemi gruffed as you rested your head against his shoulder, his softly resting against yours. “Idiot trainers letting them take the test without their breathing techniques being strong.”

You laughed your finger, raising and pressing against his proud scar on his chest. It had been a year since you had first met him at that point, and now at seventeen, you knew he was proud of his scars, showing them off like the farmers showed off their prized crops, how senseis and masters showed off their awards. 

“They can’t even fucking use the Water Breathing techniques correctly,” he spoke angrily, almost bitterly. “That’s the easiest breathing to learn! They had no fucking skill; they don’t use the breathes they should be using!”

“Mm,” you agreed, not really invested in their strengths or if the trainers were blind fucking bats, and your hand rested on his chest. His heartbeat under your fingertips, and you looked at his dark purple eyes. Despite the weird angle, his eyes were beating with the slightest bit of anger. “They sound like the worst.”

You had never known Sanemi to freeze up or startle, but you saw the way his eyes dropped to your lips, the way they drank them in, but he pulled away. His heartbeat suddenly frantic as he stood. 

“It’s getting late; I gotta go if I’m going to make the town thirteen kilometers from here,” he grumbled, strapping his katana to his waist and standing up. You quietly followed after Sanemi, listening to him talk about how there was a case this morning but that the supposed demon was an actual cannibal.

As the two of you passed to the front gate, the warm smell of cracked dirt and sweet weeds filled the air. The sun was still high in the sky, just enough for your practically superpowered friend, not a friend, to make it to his suspected town just as the sunset.

He turned to you, falling quiet, obviously waiting for your typical farewell. But, you were trying something new tonight, and maybe from here on out. Sanemi watched with wide eyes as you stepped before him, your lips pressing sweetly against his battle-hardened skin, just kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Stay safe,” you grinned, pulling away, finding the pink in his cheeks and ears as a sign of victory. And as you made your way back into the doors of your home, Sanemi’s hands grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you near once again.

“I didn’t know you were a fucking Water User,” he snaps, and before you could smoothly input, you were not a Breathe user on account of your very serious childhood asthma, his lips pressed against yours, and it suddenly made sense.

The sky during the day was, for the most part, repetitive and boring. But when Sanemi pulled away from you, your lips humming with electricity and pumping blood from your excitement, the backdrop of the sky on the man who held your heart could outmatch even the asteroid shower you had seen. 

“Come back again, please, Sanemi?” you slowly spoke, the smile on your face ear-splitting and pure.

“Fuck off!” Sanemi flushed bright red, and he turned on his heel and stormed away.

He listened to your bell-like laughter as he rounded the corner. Well, until he seemingly reappeared before you again, his hands pressing to your cheeks and kissing the laughter from your throat before he pulled away. His voice was gruff, and his body language screamed he was doing everything not to look away from you right now, “I’ll see.”

And it was good, so very, very good.

By the time you were eighteen, you had moved in with Sanemi.

Despite the lack of a formal proposal, how both of you agreed not to marry yet, your parents allowed you to move in with Sanemi. They knew the reason why both of you had decided not to wed and accepted it as long as Sanemi took all responsibility for what would happen to him should anything happen to you. 

You still remember Sanemi showing up in the only kimono he owned. It was a bit — okay, try way — too tight against his arms and chest. His katana or usual uniform nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been expecting this to happen; the two of you had discussed this future together plentifully. But seeing him on his knees, a bow that was so low, respectful, and formal, had sent your skin simmering with blazing heat as Sanemi asked to officially court you and if he could also bring you home with him.

Tears welled in your eyes at his beautifully spoken request, and your parents, who may or may not have interrupted a handful of too many gentle, sweet, full kisses between you and Sanemi in the gardens of your home, had expected it. 

That sunset, you had watched Sanemi pull his katana and uniform from underneath a tatami mat in your room, and you screeched about how he had hidden it there. He didn’t bother responding as he changed into his needed uniform, and you had politely looked away while he changed. You may or may not have caught sight of his muscled, toned, and scarred legs, though, and you may or may not have thought about it for every second after he had left.

He kissed you wholly before he left that night, his thumb rubbing your cheekbone just softly enough to make you putty in his hands.

“I’ll be back in the morning to help you move in,” he promised, and you nodded your head impatiently, your lips seeking his again. 

As promised, Sanemi showed up the following morning, and with the help of the wagon your parents owned, all of your items were carefully exported to Sanemi’s home. A home that was way more than you had imagined. Your fiancé, not quite a fiancé, was always clean, he never showed up covered in dirt or blood, so while you weren’t necessarily expecting him to live in a crate at the side of the road, you were also expecting that from him.

It was a large home with a large courtyard, garden, and training spaces. Sanemi had easily carried your trunks into your (Sanemi and your’s) room, and you had hugged your parents tightly before they left. Their smiles drowned out into the bright sunlight as they went.

The adjustment to living with Sanemi wasn’t as hard as you thought it was going to be. For sure, the most challenging thing was getting your body accustomed to being awake during the night so that you could sleep with him and then spend his waking hours with him. It was perfect, blissful, and wonderful. You’d spend sundown to sunrise doing chores and doing drills with a wooden sword and dummy — Sanemi was teaching you how to handle a katana in case he wasn’t around. You’d write down lists of what you would need when he came home. Thirty minutes after sunrise, nearly without fail, Sanemi would stumble into the house, calling out his greeting.

You helped him bathe the night's blood and grime away, and with gentle hands and coaxing words, dragged him to sleep. At three in the afternoon, both of you would wake, and the day would begin with a sweet kiss good morning. Both of you would go and finish the day's errands, the vendors soon becoming familiar with your face and person. It was a great community, and everyone seemed to hold Sanemi in high regard.

But your relationship changed yet again when Sanemi slammed through the doors one day after sunrise. His eyes were wide, faint pink, already healed over scars risen on his skin as you came to the front door to see your husband, not a husband, discarding his shoes on the floor. 

“What’s going on?!” you asked, partially because you were scared and partly because you were slightly exhausted and ready to drag him into bed with you. But it seemed that Sanemi had that same exact mindset, but with a whole other meaning.

The kiss he pressed on your lips was blistering hot; you arched against the intensity of his kiss, your fingers touching the dirt of his face and feeling the heat of his skin.

“I need you,” he simply stated, over and over, his words coiling and festering under your skin until you could do nothing but let out a shaking moan. Exhaustion had burned out of your bloodstream, and a gentle, building warmth sank through your loins as slowly you agreed.

I need you,” you repeat as the sliding doors close behind your shifting bodies, the both of you losing yourselves to the heat and the passions of the early morning lust.

.

..

.

It had been approximately a year since you and Sanemi began to indulge in your shared sexual desires. Your relationship was deep, it was full, and as everything human, had its flaws. There were mornings where he would come home and needed to sleep in a separate room, evenings when he would leave, and his words would be cold and haunting. His life up until now had been a hard one, and you were no fool to believe that your presence would make him forget that. 

But in spite of it all, you were always happy when Sanemi would pull off of you, the streams of golden morning light whisping into the room, your body aching with the intensive pleasurable waves as the both of you would ease into sleep. It was perfect, you thought so, at least.

Sanemi, however, always claimed that you were a sight to be seen when he was bottomed out in you. His words were sweet in your ears as his lips brushed your skin, his praises were endless, but even when the drunken hue of the passions of the early morning faded, he swore you were a sight to be taken in at its full glory. Through every praise, every small moment where he would kiss you afterward as the smell of sex and dewy grass wafted into the room, Sanemi wanted you to see how beautiful you were when he fucked you.

You had no idea how that was to work; there was nothing that gave off a good enough reflection. But one late spring day, your eyes at the table you were using, carefully shuffling the funds Sanemi had acquired and placed them out accordingly, the front door was thrown open. 

“I’m home,” Sanemi grunted from the first room in the home, and you strained your ears, not hearing the door shut behind him.

“Welcome home!” eventually came your response, your body pressing up from the floor, fingers smoothing down your purple kimono before walking to where Sanemi stood. 

By the time you entered the room, Sanemi had already closed the door. But you were less focused on the time interval it took him to enter the home and more interested in the large, covered, and almost ominous rectangular object resting on the wall. 

“Whatcha got there?” you asked, head tilting in your curiosity, eyes focused on the large rectangle.

“The obaa-san gave me free smoked salmon because she heard that apparently, we’re trying for a kid. She said eating salmon before having sex will guarantee a strong male heir. So I figured we could make some nigiri,” Sanemi stated, purposefully ignoring your question if the way his lips pulled into a sardonic smile had anything to say about it.

“You’re an asshole,” you laugh, your hand smacking his shoulder only for him to thread his fingers in yours and pull you in for a sweet kiss. You hummed against his soft lips, your fingers running through his hair until the entire sentence he just told you sparked back into your memory. You tugged the ends of his hair just sharp enough for him to grunt in the back of his throat. “Idiot, don’t let them think we’re trying for a kid just yet.”

Sanemi snorts, pulling away from the kiss, “Maybe you should stop talking about your cravings in public — especially with that gossiping vendor.”

“Period cravings are a thing!”

“Yah yah,” Sanemi grunted, his hand waving you off as he gathered his rectangle thing and started making his way off with it. It was enormous though, you noticed as he carried it. It was longer than both of your heights, and if you were to stand at his shoulder, it seemed like it could still be wider than the both of you. “Stop breathing down my neck, weirdo.”

“You’re the one not telling me what that is!” you complain, following Sanemi with enough distance that you weren’t stepping on his heels. “Come on, ‘nemi, tell me what it is?”

“What do you think it is?”

“I hope it isn’t Mitsuri-chan’s present from Iguro-san,” you grumbled, knowing that last Christmas, you had to keep Mitsuri’s present hidden from the lovely Love Breathe wielder. “I can’t handle him showing up in the middle of the day, demanding to see it again. Why didn’t his own home work?”

“Kanroji shows up occasionally, and he only brings her into the best rooms depending on the day,” Sanemi grunted, resting the rectangle onto the wall by your tatami mats. “He won’t confess; she’s dumber than a rock, it’s all annoying. But he’s still… a friend.”

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re finally admitting to being friends with your fellow Hashira!” you chirped, your arms circling his neck, your grin complete and authentic as Sanemi looked at you unimpressed, his lips in a pout, not a pout, but a pout. You had the privilege of meeting all the Hashira Christmas morning, and they were all lovely people you got along with quite well. “Now, are you and Tomi—”

“That water bastard can choke on my foot and die!” Sanemi snapped, his face fuming, eyebrows narrowing, but his warm arms remaining relaxed and warm around your waist. “I’ll kill him and his stupid ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality.”

“And you don’t get along with someone like that?” you feign surprise, utterly delighted with the way his eyes sparkled dangerously at you. And well, you didn’t ever hesitate to take a bite out of Sanemi. “Guess there’s only enough room for an ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality even in the Hashira, and if it isn’t you… oops.”

Sanemi choked, and you laughed loudly, face nuzzling into his stiff neck as he attempted to escape from your stubborn hold. 

“You’re a real jerk,” Sanemi said as monotonously, allowing his much stronger body to be bent down as your lips peppered against his skin and eventually on his relaxed lips that didn’t bother returning your kisses.

“Kiss me back,” you whined, your lips pressing with a more significant, more profound fervor against his mouth.

“No.”

“I’m sorry!” you giggled with no actual apologies in your tone, enjoying the way that Sanemi’s lips slowly began to press back against yours. “Tomioka-san is obviously not the holder of the ‘I’m-better-than-you’ personality title!”

“You damn brat,” Sanemi growled, his fingers pinching and pulling at your cheeks, paying no mind to your cries of mercy. “To think that I bought this for you too!”

“You haven’t even shown it to me yet!” you complain, unable to pout on account to his fingers, still pulling your cheeks apart. “You left me in the dark!”

Sanemi grunted, letting go of your cheeks, his purple eyes darkening and narrowing as he slammed a hand over your eyes and twisted you around in a swift movement. You resisted the small gasp hanging at the tip of your tongue when you felt his broad chest pressing into your back, and he moved forward, commanding you to move without a word. 

“Is this when you confess you’ve been a demon this entire time and trap my soul into Hell with all your other sexy wives?”

“Would you shut up?!”

Sanemi’s hand tore away from your eyes, and even though you were ready to argue with him just to hear the flaring annoyance on his tongue, you stilled when you saw your reflection perfectly. This had to be a mirror, an invention made in the west a few years ago, and finally, it was here. You weren’t oblivious to the fact that you were smaller than Sanemi, but the mirror made that difference alarmingly apparent. 

“I told you I wanted you to be able to look at yourself as I fucked you,” Sanemi whispered against your neck, breaking your attention away from its transfixion on the precise observation you finally had on yourself. “Turns out Tokyo got some imported, and I had to go get one myself.”

“Sanemi,” you whimpered, the canines of his teeth dragging against the tender flesh of your neck that was exposed from your kimono. Your eyes took in the sight of how his eyes stared at your face through the mirror's reflection, they were dark, murkier like this, and when his teeth slowly sank into your flesh, a ripple of pleasure and pain bubbling against your skin, you moaned. 

“Look at yourself,” Sanemi purred, his arms circling around your waist, and you felt him slowly beginning to undo the fastenings and fabrics of your kimono. “I need you to understand just how crazy you make me feel when I touch you, when I fuck you.”

The words were hot cinders in your lower stomach, festering and twisting in its warmth as his words buzzed in your ears. Your eyes dragged over to your reflection, and you could feel the beginning steam come out of your ears at the sight of yourself. Your eyes were lidded, perfectly hooded to give off the obvious desire that was growing in your body, your lips swelling with how your teeth tore into them, stopping the small moans that went unheard, and the flush that radiated off your features and glowed in your eyes.

It was a sight that you had never expected to see, and the pure unadulterated lust radiating off your features embarrassed you. The embarrassment only seemed to grow more as the kimono slipped from your shoulder, exposing more of your tender flesh for Sanemi’s mouth and teeth to mark, and your head dipped backward at the lewd scene.

“Look at you, angel,” Sanemi smirked against your skin, his eyes glinting dangerously even though the reflection as you weakly, just barely managed to return your gaze onto your review. You looked even more wrecked as the kimono dropped to the floor, the white undergarments you wore making you look saintly in the reflection and warm light of the streaming sun. “So beautiful, so perfect, and all mine.”

Your fingers fisted into the pants of his uniform. Your knees feeling weak with the possessiveness that came with his words. Unsure as to what to do, all the embarrassment and shamelessness in the world dancing like falling leaves as you pondered what you could do. Usually, you would move with him against him. You didn’t exactly fall into a pillow princess category, but feeling the intensity of his gaze through a mirror, and the way that your body behaved exactly as he had always claimed it had, made your head spin.

You gasped loudly when his hips rutted slowly against your ass, his scarred hands continuing to undress you more, each fabric of clothing that separated your naked body from the mirror disappearing until you were completely nude. And you mewled.

“Look at yourself, angel,” Sanemi laughed against the shell of your ear, his head now against yours, keeping you from even attempting to look away. His large, rough hands glided across your much softer skinned body, watching as his fingers rolled your nipples between his fingers, massaging your tender flesh in his hands. 

You saw the way your head dipped backward as you moaned, your eyes fluttering as you did so. Undoubtedly, both of you painted an erotic scene, but it was something you hadn’t ever expected to be confirmed. “You look so beautiful moaning against my touch; I wonder if you’ll like the way your face scrunches up when I fuck your pretty little pussy, or even when I touch it.”

Slight fear shot through your nerves as suddenly, Sanemi dropped to the floor, taking you with him. No pain went through your body as he made impact with the floor. You figured out why immediately, your ass was against his hard crotch, his clothed outer thighs pressing against your naked inner thighs, and you made sight with the mirror and keened at the picture of your spread slick pussy. 

Sanemi shifted behind you, and although you couldn’t seem to tear your eyes away from how your cunt glistened in the light, you shook when you saw his bare arms, felt his bare chest against your back. 

“You drive me utterly fucking insane,” Sanemi growled hotly against your ear, crotch grinding up into your ass, and you pathetically looked at your flushed face as you ground back downwards onto him in return. A slow groaned out moan resonated from his mouth, and you shivered and gasped at the noise, your cunt clenching at nothing as Sanemi positioned your arms as he wanted them to be. Clutched into his hair, absolutely revealing your naked body to the mirror, denying you no salacious angle of your body. “I want you to watch me make you feel good, angel. Don’t look away, promise?”

“I p-promise,” you stammer, the slight glint of his eye that you can still see, making your toes curl.

And he began.

Sanemi’s finger slowly traced down your knees, the heat from his flesh nearly burning as you tremble in his hold. Your instincts fight whether to look at him from the mirror or normally. 

You keep your eyes onto the mirror. “Good job, you’re doing such a good job,” Sanemi voices, his fingers becoming feather-soft strokes against the inside of your legs that make you arch against his chest. a sharp inhale was what he was rewarded with as his fingers make small circles centimeters from where you crave him most. “I haven’t seen you react this intensely in so long. Is it because you’re watching your pretty face enjoy the praise?”

Unsure what to say, your head nods rapidly, your tongue falling dead in your mouth when his left-hand drags up your abdomen, scratching the underneath of your breasts until you can shake no more. “SANEMI!” you shriek, unable to take the teasing touches and watching your embarrassingly turned on face anymore. “SOMETHING! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING, PLEASE!”

“Aw, you cracked so fast,” he chuckles against your ear, and you melt into a euphoric victory when his thick, rough fingers plunge into your cunt.

Immediately, your hips snap up to greet him, your body shifting in quick, fast snaps as you watch your soaked cunt fuck against his fingers, desperately, greedily taking him in more and more. The sight of his fingers disappearing into your cunt through the mirror, the way your teeth tore into your lips to keep your singing praises at a minimum, and how you could feel and swear you could see the heat pounding from your body take shape through the mirror.

You had never felt this tight yet undone. Your lust hazed eyes shifting from your almost too lewd facial expressions to the way Sanemi jaw flexed with his growled endless praises, to how your cunt greedily sucked him in, further and further until the pounding of your heart couldn’t even drown out the wet, squelching of your cunt.

“Fuck!” Sanemi cursed, his hips grinding further, harder into your ass, and you keened at the massive hard length that poked into your back. “Look at you, you’re so fucking hot, angel. So needy, so fucking greedy for everything that I’m giving you.”

“I want m-more!” you sob, your body hyper-aware of how fast his curled fingers were pounding into you. You craved the way his battle-scarred fingers dragged against your puffy inner walls, hips bucking so his fingers would drag against the spongy divots, sending your mind spiraling and your jaw falling in your wordless beg for more. You understood why Sanemi craved you like this, why he insisted you needed to see the way you looked when he fucked you because as the hand that was kneading and pulling on your breasts and nipples shot down to make sure your trembling thighs didn’t smash together in your building climax. How he continued to press sloppy, wet, hot, and bitten kisses against your neck, you were a perverts fantasy. “M-More ‘nemi, please give me more!” you practically wailed.

“You gonna cum around my fingers, angel?”

“I needa cum, I wanna cum!”

“I want you to cum around my fingers, look at yourself for me when you do,” Sanemi commanded, and you, in your lust-driven mindset, agreed. Your eyes were looking on your lewd face, and everything crumbled when the growing clenches of your cunt became a tight vice grip.

But the heated pressure between your legs had been festering for too long, the included visuals that sent your brain into putty had you cumming around his fingers, your hips bucking wildly, barbarically against his still conquesting fingers. “Yes, yes yesyesyeysyes, that was so good… your fingers are so good,” you babbled, your eyes crossing, unable to look at yourself anymore. The elation of the orgasm flooding your mind and muscles. But you hadn’t been fucking the man who could pound you for multiple rounds without tiring without picking up a thing or two. 

Twisting around your lips that were swollen from your biting and smooth with your saliva crashed against his. Sanemi didn’t resist your kiss, his lips crashing and moving without any hesitation against yours. You moaned when his fingers left your heat, and you slipped your tongue into his mouth as you ground your ass against his still throbbing hard-on. “I want your cock still, ‘nemi. I want you to fuck me with your cock, please fuck me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, okay!” Sanemi snarled, and his thighs slammed shut. 

You crawled off his lap, watching as the slick stained spot on his uniform glistened in the light. Frowning, not wanting to disturb him, you couldn't help but lick against the wet area, voice moaning deeply at the musky, sweet scent of your slick against the fabric.

“Y/n!” Sanemi weakly got out, his hips instinctively bucking towards your lapping tongue. 

You worked with him to get his uniform off his hips, your body not waiting for him to undress entirely before your mouth enveloped his thick veiny cock. The salty pre-cum invaded your senses, your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock before your mouth took in his swollen red head. You hollowed out your cheeks as you sucked his cockhead, your tongue swiping and moving at his leaking slit as Sanemi cursed the heavens for you, his hands grabbing onto your head and pulling you off him right when that shivering twitch of his cock pressed to your tongue.

Gasping, you looked at Sanemi’s nearly black eyes, disappointment heavy on your features.

“‘Nemi—” you pout, but Sanemi doesn’t let you finish.

You’re back almost straddling his waist, your back flush against his chest. He holds a strong, sturdy hand against your waist, keeping your waiting, wet cunt from lowering onto his hard cock. Your feet on the mats feel weak as you try to hold your weight above him, but when his teeth sink into the back of your neck, a spot that makes your body collapse without reason, you garble a scream when his cock sheathes completely within you.

Heavy, hot pants escape both of your mouths as you’re completely seated on his cock, the nearly inhumane girth of his cock making you dizzy at the surprise entrance. But you were much, much more fascinated with the way your pretty little pussy was stretched out so wide for his cock. He was buried in you, and even though it didn’t hurt to have him in you. The reflection showed how your lips pulled and stretched to fit him in, the small bulge of his cock in you was seen, and you cried in ecstasy.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” you begged, hips long gone from obeying any command Sanemi could try to give you as you fucked yourself against his length. “God, your cock is so good, ‘nemi! You look so good filling out my pretty fucking pussy!”

That is what makes Sanemi lose it, his hands that rest on your hips tightening with a bruising grip as he begins slamming into you. The wet noises of his cock entering and exiting of your sloppy, wet cunt at an even faster speed in which you were fucking him make your nails dig into his thighs, your eyes crossing, breathes hot and heavy. 

Twisting, curling pleasure thrums deep within your womb, tightening and warming with each successive thrust that sends Sanemi’s cock rubbing against your inner velvet walls. You cry his name, eyes dazed and dripping with want and need as you watch the slicked shine of his cock pounding into your without mercy. 

“You’re so fucking tight like this, angel, so fucking hot. You like the way you look like when I fuck you, huh, look at how godly you appear,” he snaps, his arms hugging your hips, his thrusting becoming short, deep, fierce snaps. 

You can’t look at yourself anymore, the heat of the sex and the electric pleasure that rides with every lick of his cock against your cervix, sending your hot, wet lips in search of his. Sanemi meets you halfway, open mouth moans and groans being exchanged between your open mouths as your tongues intermixed and pressed sinfully against each other. The noises that leave your wet sexes only fuel the raging fire in your cunt that has reignited to a hire flame than before.

“Cum in me,” you find yourself begging against his lips. “Please cum in me, don’t pull out, ‘nemi, please don’t pull out.”

“Fuck, fuck, you sure?” Sanemi grunted, his body heaving you both forward so that you were on your knees, and he was absolutely wrecking you from behind.

“Yes!” you affirm over and over again. your mind high off of him and how you looked in the mirror. “I want you in me, all of you in me!”

He let out a guttural whine, a sound that had you shaking beneath him and screaming when the coil in your cunt finally snapped.

Another orgasm crashed through you, and your spinning high echoed in your ears and curled your toes as you whimpered Sanemi’s name. With the sound of his hips slapping against your ass, and with his teeth burying into the nape of your neck, you felt the hot, liquid ropes burst from his cock, filling you up. The both of you remained there, panting as your sweat and slick covered bodies collapsed to the floor. 

“So…” he gasped, collapsing onto the mat beside you, pulling you into his chest so that you could rest against his scarred chest. “Did you like the mirror?”

“...I guess,” you antagonize, grinning when he frowns. “It was hot; you make me look hot.”

Sanemi snorted, his lips pressing to your sweat-covered forehead.

“I don’t do shit; that’s how you are.”

You chuckled, warm grogginess settling under your skin as you merely hum in agreement.

“The Hashira meeting is tomorrow, so I’ll be gone for two days,” Sanemi murmurs, reminding you of the dreaded two days alone. It wasn’t as if you had forgotten; you never do.

“Think anything interesting will happen?”

“Nothing out of the ordinary, hopefully.”

You giggle, snuggling in closer to his chest. Yeah, hopefully.

#sanemi x reader #sanemi smut #sanemi shinazugawa x reader #kny #kny x reader #bbs kinktober 2020

[theres-an-impulstor-among-us]

may i request some grian and zedaph? i have nothing else in mind except maybe them causing some kind of chaos

Hell yeah Grian and Zedaph, one of my favourite HC duos! 

...

  Zedaph has been watching Toon Towers for the last hour, just waiting for Tango to leave and go elsewhere. From his vantage point on the roof of one of the Aquetown buildings, he has a perfect view of Tango working on changing the sign on the building from False’s name back to the word Toon. 

  “Whatcha doing?” comes a voice suddenly from behind him.

  Zedaph jerks and almost falls right off the roof. “Goodness-!” He catches himself before he inadvertently swears.

  Grian giggles. “Hi, Zedaph. Whatcha doing up here?”

  “I could ask you the same question!”

  “I’m trying to find a way to buy that building there.” Grian indicates the taller granite skyscraper. “I was looking around it when I spotted you up here and decided to come see what you’re doing. From your reaction just now, I’m guessing you’re up to no good.”

  “Not yet, I’m not,” Zedaph protests. “Tango won’t leave his base long enough for me to do anything.”

  “Tango’s your target, huh?” Grian joins Zedaph on the edge of the roof. “Why?”

  “Because he was directly responsible for making me homeless for ten seconds. I wanna get him back.”

  Grian snickers. “Is this about the zoucher?”

  “Of course it is,” replies Zedaph, hiding a grin. “Tango’s my best friend but that doesn’t mean I can’t plan my crippling revenge against him.”

  “Heck yeah. Need any help?”

  Zedaph glances at him. “Really? You want to help prank the guy who helped get you your base back?” 

  Grian shrugs, grinning. “I mean, yeah. I’m always up for shenanigans, any time, place, or person.”

  “Well, I’d definitely welcome your input. I was thinking of sneaking in and sticking Zedaph heads everywhere.”

  “Hmm…” Grian considers this for a moment. “Good idea, but not big enough. You want Tango to know who’s responsible, yeah?”

  Zedaph nods. “Absolutely.”

  “Check out what he’s doing right now.”

  Zedaph looks over at Toon Towers. “He’s still changing the sign on his base.”

  When Zedaph looks back at Grian, he finds a mischievous grin on his friend’s face. “Exactly. What better way of making a statement than plastering your face over the front of his tower? I doubt he’ll want to remove it straight away after spending all that work redoing it in the first place, so it’ll stay up for several hours at least, constantly reminding him of his crimes. Whatcha think?”

  It’s as if Zedaph is seeing Grian in a new light. He can’t believe there’s someone other than Tango or Impulse on the server who thinks the way he does and seems to understand him on an incredible level. More to the point, he can’t believe such a person exists AND they’ve never collaborated on a prank like this before. 

  “Grian, I think you’re a genius,” he says. 

  Grian gives a pleased grin. “Good, me too. Now, while Tango’s finishing up the sign, let’s go get our materials. When we get back, he should be done.”

…

  Sure enough, when the two fly back to Aquetown with two shulker boxes full of building materials, they find the Toon Towers sign finished and Tango nowhere in sight. 

  “Ah, perfect!” Grian grins. “Now’s our chance. Did you bring your mask?”

  “Absolutely did. Do we put them on now?”

  “Nah, only if Tango catches us. Don’t think he will, though; it’s getting dark. Now, let’s get over there.”

  The two fly over to Toon Towers and land neatly on the sign. Working in tandem, they start creating a giant replica of Zedaph’s face over the sign that Tango has just finished. As they work, the two chat about their base swap and how relieved they are to be back in their own base again. 

  “I still can’t believe Tango gave you that zoucher,” Zedaph snickers. “He really will go to any length to mess with me. Honestly though, I can’t say I wouldn’t do the same if the roles were reversed.”

  “Well, he didn’t give it to me for free,” Grian says, grinning. “I had to give him an IOU.”

  “Really? Well, that’s gonna come back to bite you.”

  “Oh definitely. But hey, Tango’s a pretty fun guy, so we’ll see what happens.”

  “Tango’s very fun but he’s also very devious. He’s gonna use it to either ask for some help on a redstone project or do something to you that’ll result in horrific embarrassment or death. Or both.”

  Grian laughs. “Wonderful. Can’t wait.” 

  After about half an hour, the two are just finishing up when they hear a redstone door slide open. 

  “Uh oh!” Zedaph yelps. “Time to go!”

  “HEY!”

  “Too late,” snickers Grian. 

  Zedaph quickly ties on his pink mask as Grian glances down and finds Tango on the ground looking up at them, hands on his hips. “What are you two doing up there?!” he yells. “Wait - what did you do to my sign?!”

  Grian quickly slips the chicken mask over his face. “We are the deliverers of justice! Poultry Man and Worm Man!” 

  Zedaph is only just able to stifle his laughter. “Yes, we have corrected an injustice and now we must away!” 

  Immediately, Grian jumps off the building and activates his elytra. Zedaph jumps off after him but tosses an ender pearl towards Aquetown. He teleports and crashes to the ground in a heap just outside the barber shop. 

  A second later, Grian lands next to him and the two set off running. They tumble into the granite-coloured skyscraper and collapse on the ground, neither of them able to breathe properly through their laughter and exertion. 

  Just as their laughter is dying down, Zedaph glances at Grian. “I didn’t know you were Poultry Man.” 

  This sets off Grian laughing again and after a moment, Zedaph joins in. 

  “Who knew we’d have badly-concealed animal-themed superhero alter egos in common,” Grian giggles.

  Zedaph pretends to be affronted. “Badly concealed? Badly concealed?! I’ll have you know I’m perfectly below average at concealing my identity, thank you.”

  “Oh, man.” Grian takes a few deep breaths to calm his breathing, wiping his tears of laughter away. “I’m crying, dude. That was the best thing I’ve done in so long. Thanks so much for letting me be part of it.”

  “No, I should be thanking you! My revenge would’ve been so dull without you. Remember, my original plan was just to walk in and stick a few Zedaph heads to the walls. Tango’s DEFINITELY gonna remember this.”

  “Dude, I’M gonna remember this. We really need to team up more often.” 

  “Don’t you mean Worm Man and Poultry Man need to team up more often?” asks Zedaph innocently. 

  This causes Grian to giggle again. “Ohh, yeahhh, definitely. Cuz, I mean, who KNOWS who those two might really be. Now that’s a duo of superheroes who really know how to hide their identities.”

  Zedaph grins at his new partner in crime. “Oh, yes, a hundred percent agreed. Perhaps they should remove their masks now, to make sure their identities remain secret.”

  “Ah yeah, you’re right.”

  The two simultaneously take off their masks. 

  “Um… Grian?” Zedaph stares down at the mask in his hands. “We forgot our shulker boxes.”

  Grian pauses. “Oh. Shoot. Do you think Tango’s in any mood to scrape them off the side of his sign right now?”

  “I mean… no,” Zedaph responds. “Is there anything in them you would mind losing?”

  “Nah, not really. Tango’s welcome to them, honestly.”

  A pause follows his words.

  “You wanna go back out there in costume and take them back?” Zedaph asks.

  Grian grins mischievously at him. “I thought you’d never ask.”

#hermitcraft #grian #zedaph #Vaunna writes

[sl-walker]

All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.

I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.

I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD

First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.

Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:

Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.

Either way, I love it.

Continuing on...

I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.

Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.

Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.

Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.

It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.

So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”

He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.

Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.

But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.

I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!

Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.

Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.

Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.

“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”

I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.

Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.

Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.

I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.

Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again.  Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.

(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size.  So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats.  He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy.  But more on that later.)

I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model.  Maybe in another ten years, kiddo.  Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no.  LOL!

Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.

C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it.  As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--

I do get Beck’s point.  I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it.  He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that.  I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam!  He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked.  College-age, in fact.

But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character.  Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.

I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there.  Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand.  Next comes some other really good panels:

-snorts-  He’s locked in.  Yeah, that’ll hold him.

Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can.  Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue.  It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that.  You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.

ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--

--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes.  Except, not his underwear.  Because that’s nasty.  LOL!

I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff.  Go incognito.  Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after.  Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.

Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to.  It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.

But I am digressing again, sorry. XD  I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.

Anyway, only a single panel later:

And that’s that!  Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.

Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity.  The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there.  But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid.  It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot.  You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.

I love how human it is.  How complete it is.  How genuinely funny it is.  It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero.  LOL!  I enjoyed sharing it with you.

#dc captain marvel #billy batson #shazam #whiz comics

[whitherliliesbloom]

towards a tomorrow

[ ffxivwrite2021 ] ★ [ masterlist ] ★ [ prompt #28 - bow ]

[ illya & kirishimi ] ★ [ 2,062 words ]  ★ [ period drama au ]

for matchi’s period drama au. briefly mentions illyanaud, laurelis and kaye. 

bow-  to bend your head or body forward, especially as a way of showing someone respect or expressing thanks 

kirishimi didn’t care for frilly dresses or etiquette unless it was to make a statement - so she gets lessons from the most ladylike friend she knows

“Gods, shite! How do people breath in this stupid thing?!” 

Amongst the light breeze of the midafternoon wind, the melodic chirping of the songbirds and the sound of water splashing freely from the white marble fountain, Kirishimi’s less than ladylike words pierce through the air as she puffs her chest in with a low grumble and is followed by the soft and gentle bell-like chimes of a younger girl’s giggles a few feet next to her.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think the corset can be loosened any further, I made it as loose as I could for you already.”

“Can I just take it off then?” Kirishimi asks, hopeful even as the shorter lalafellin girl shakes her head calmly with am apologetic frown, her vibrant violent eyes swirling with sympathy.

“I wish you could but... Laurelis designed the dress with your corset in mind.. It just wouldn’t fit if you didn’t-”

“Shite.”

Yet another swear tumbles carelessly out of Kirishimi’s lips, and Illya lets out a soft, barely audible sigh before flashing her taller friend yet another gentle smile.

“How about a short break then? I think you’ll feel a little better if you take a breather.”

“Yes please!”

Without even a seconds’ hesitation, Kirishimi grabs the frame of the hoop skirt beneath her bright orange dress with her hands and marches to the gazebo before slumping down onto the white garden chair and kicking her matching pair of high heels off. She leans down to massage the soles of her feet with a grimace, feeling light indents where the rim of the heels had dug into her feet and wondering if there was going to be blisters forming under her hosiery by the end of the day.

In contrast to the almost unruly way she’d retreated under the shade of the white and purple gazebo, Illya in comparison was the very picture of elegance. With only the tips of her thumb and index finger, the young lady lifts the hem of her frilly lavender dress before climbing the steps up to the gazebo. Despite wearing lacey embroidered heels that seemed like they were even more of a pain to wear than her own, Illya’s balance was perfect, each footstep graceful and deliberate so much that Kirishimi could barely even hear the little tap of her heels against the floor. 

Even the way she sat upon the chair, taking her time to tuck her dress beneath her thighs before sitting herself down and folding her hands neatly upon her lap - it wouldn’t have made Kirishimi felt self-conscious any other time before today. But it was exactly because she was here now, for the exact same reason she’d even agreed to commission an over the top ball gown from Laurelis that she swear to never wear outside of it’s intended use, that she quickly decided to correct her posture. 

The taller woman feels out of place - as she typically does, but especially next to her considerably more demure, ladylike friend. Surrounded by the jewel toned walls of the Skawi mansion, the flawless marble tile paths that circled the garden and practically shined in the sunlight and the bed of delicate spring flowers that filled the air with a light floral fragrance, it would be hard for her not to feel even a tiny bit like a fish out of water.

“Thanks again, Illya. For agreeing to teach me.” Kirishimi opts to speak, breaking the long hanging silence as if in sheepish apology. She knows she isn’t the best student, and so the least she could do was be cooperative and nice to the girl who is graciously lending her her time and efforts. 

“You’re very welcome, Kiri.” With a radiant smile, Illya nods her head, her innocent expression bright and at home with her subtle movements of grace. The birds that sat upon the mansard roofs sing in tandem with the sweetness of Illya’s voice. “I’m honored that you would come to me for lessons about etiquette. Even if it is to...um... break the social construct.”

Mismatched eyes widen in a panic, and the older woman leans forward over the table and raises her voice a tad.

“Hey, I hope you don’t misunderstand me! There’s nothin’ wrong with being prim and proper! I’m not tryin’ to do anythin’ to disrespect you! I just-”

“I know.” Illya speaks, her brilliantly pure white hair fluttering gently in the breeze like a wavy silken veil over her head. “You’re just trying to be you. You have the courage and strength to stand up to people who would try to tell you do otherwise. I like that about you.” With yet another euphonious, soft giggle, Illya raises a hand up to press against her chest. “Besides, you wouldn’t have come to me for a favor if you truly did have malicious intent, would you? The fact that you called Laurelis and I for help means that you trust us.” 

A soft blush rises up to Kiri’s face where speckles of white snow glowed lightly from the heat from her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. Her gloved hand moves up to rub the side of her neck sheepishly, and she cannot help the toothy grin that adorns her face.

“I guess you’re right.” the woman murmurs. “I also... admire you a lot, you know? You’re so sweet, and nice... a bit too nice, honestly. You don’t even get angry when idiots spout lies about you...”

Kirishimi would be lying if she said she didn’t feel an immense amount of admiration for Illya’s ability to stay as calm and collected as she does - even above the seemingly effortless way she’d conduct herself like the society’s perfect definition of a ‘lady’. 

But there wasn’t envy... it wouldn’t be warranted, especially since Kirishimi knew that behind the perfectly immaculate way Illya would hold herself as the young mistress and future heiress of her family name, came a set of troubles and insecurities that she too was struggling with. 

It’s evident by the flicker of melancholy in Illya’s eyes, like a field of delphiniums and hydrangeas that were drooping in the midst of a drizzle of rain and grey storm clouds, even with a forced, stepford smile gracing her delicate and fair features. They were lovely, beautiful even in their imperfect sadness.. but Kiri could not bring herself to feel anything but sorry at the sight of them.

“And I wish I were even half as strong as you. You’re able to stand up for what you want, for who you are... If I had a fraction of the courage that you possessed then perhaps... I could have...” The girl looks down, the silver band that she’d refused to wear hidden deep in the depths of her dress pocket weighing far more heavily than it ever did before. “I could have stopped my uncle from calling for the engagement...”

The Skawi family had well deserved respect from the capital, and with it came a reputation and image they had to uphold. And with their fame, came the inevitable greed from the current head of the family - the man Illya could barely even bring herself to think of as family, the younger brother of the long deceased patriarch, Lachlan Skawi. 

Selling himself and the name of the Skawis wouldn’t be enough for the man - and so he’d sold the dignity of his niece as well by calling for an arranged marriage.. something that Kirishimi knew would not be solved with a few simple social statements and protests. It involved the name of the Skawi family, and worse still, it involved the capital. 

Internally, Kirishimi wonders what Young Master Alphinaud intends to do. Word about mistress Skawi’s engagement to one of the members of the royal bloodlines has spread far and wide by now, and he would undoubtedly be working tirelessly for a way to stop the marriage. 

But if the combined efforts of Laurelis’ family, the Leveilleur household, Hien’s influence as a well respected foreign emissary wasn’t enough to convince Illya’s uncle to call off the engagement, what else could they hope to do?

“You’re stronger than you think you are, Illya.” Kiri reassures, her tone gentler than is usual for her, as is the light, reassuring smile upon her face. “You took the first steps to realize your own dreams, didn’t ya?” 

Kiri gestures to the carnation earring she wore that dangled lightly with gleaming white pearls, and Illya raises a hand up to brush against her ear lightly. The earring was a gift from Master Alphinaud, the man she owes much to... Her mentor, her dearest friend and...

A dust of red rises up to Illya’s cheeks and spreads to the tips of her pointed ears as she nods.

“It’s... It’s thanks to everyone... and especially Master Alphinaud that.. that I finally started to learn medicine. If it weren’t for everyone’s support, I wouldn’t have-...”

Illya holds her tongue, pressing her lips into her fine line as Kiri allows the silence to fester, until she grins at the look of renewed determination upon the young maiden’s face.

No, Kirishimi is right. She certainly may owe much to her friends and loved ones, and she wouldn’t have taken that first steps towards realizing her dream to become a doctor had she not met Alphinaud... but it took great strides of her own too, a strength and new found courage to stand up to the ones who doubted her - one that she felt determined in full to carry on for as long as she needed until her dreams are fulfilled and she can be free from her own social constructs that are weighing her down.

“Once all this is over.. could you teach me how to fence, Kiri?” Illya asks, eliciting a surprised hum from her taller friend. 

“You wanna learn how to fence?” The woman asks... not in dissuation, of course... but in mild disbelief that a girl as sweet and gentle as Illya would be interested in the sport. She’d say yes, of course, regardless of Illya’s reasons. She’d teach Illya whatever she wanted to learn especially since the girl had been kind enough to be teaching her etiquette. But she still cannot help but to be a bit curious.

“I admit I’m not the strongest or physically well built... I’ll probably be a really bad student but-”

With a wave of her hand, Kiri dismisses Illya’s words with a hearty, loud laugh that echoes throughout the garden, warm and bright in the midafternoon sun.

“You’ll be great, I guarantee it. You’re quick on your feet and I think you’re a lot more fit than you give yourself credit for.” If Illya’s ability to function without fault all way in tight corsets and high heels are anything to go by, at least. 

With a bright smile of gratitude, Illya thanks her friend warmly with a bow of her head before standing herself up from the chair, circling around the table and gesturing to the haphazardly abandoned orange heels that laid on their sides next to Kirishimi.

“Let’s continue, Kiri. We still have much to practice for the day!” Illya shrugs her shoulders when Kiri groans, slipping her feet back into her heels before reluctantly standing herself back up. “You remember what I said about the proper way to curtsy is, right?”

To demonstrate, Illya holds the sides of her dress, barely pulling the hem up from the ground and crossing her legs before dipping herself down gracefully like a ballerina... and Kiri could only let out a lazy grumble in protest.

“Can’t we rest for a little while longer? I hate this curtsying shite.”

“The faster we get this part of the lesson done, the faster we can move on to table manners.” Illya’s innocent smile is bright and radiant, belying the little hint of mischief laced under the tone of her knowing voice. “I’ve already asked for the pastries and sweet tea to be prepared, you know? Kaye should be arriving with them any second now.”

“Curtsy? Got it. Left foot behind right???” Mismatched blue and red eyes fly open, and the woman does a full curtsy that elicits yet another light and airy giggle from Illya. 

“It’s the right foot behind your left. Not too quickly, now. Let’s try that again.” 

#ffxiv #ffxivwrite #ffxivwrite2021 #kiwisffxivwrite2021 #illya skawi #kirishimi #period drama au #fanfic #mine #YET ANOTHER AU I'VE NEVER WRITTEN FOR GOD #I quite like this even if I feel like it's missing a lot of context that i had to explain with just a few #expository sentences #but that's just the nature of writing for aus you've never established before hah

[bibbykins]

can u give us a glimpse into what arguing w/ the princes would be like? love ur work btw!!

You bet! I actually had something written about this ages ago but never finished it so I’ll paste it here and add some more!

Warnings: 18+ (just like my whole page and all my works are)This is where the toxicity and unhealthiness of these relationships show, manipulation, yelling, lying, mentions of sex, mentions of rough sex, mentions of various sexual acts (cunnilingus, fellatio, exhibition) I beg of you to not put up with any of this shit irl let fiction stay in the fictional world yknow? I always ramble in my fics about this but I figured I should add it here for good measure

Jin:

Where the other boys rarely ever just “argue” and it is either a fight or nothing, you guys just argue sometimes, never rlly fight

This ties back to the fierce honesty policy you have between each other, but you both are so stubborn so arguing does happen

You both usually start by saying snarky things until one of you breaks and says what is really bothering them, which doesn’t take long at all

If you cry, congrats, you automatically won bc Jin not only does not know how to deal with a woman’s tears, he cannot fathom his one true love crying

Although you usually try to continue explaining your reasoning bc you don’t wanna win by crying, you wanna win bc you’re right

Jin, similar to Jimin, respects you a lot, so the other girls seldom ever catch him acting like a clown’

His downfall is just being bad at expressing his feelings bc he thinks you just know, like you read minds or something

Jin usually apologizes by asking what you want after he forfeits his pride so if it’s a gift, he’s on it, sex? say less. 

He usually prefers to pamper you for a night, not even cumming during sex unless you tell him to

You’re the one who threatens the other fellas when they’re disrespecting their s/o, intentionally or not, and boy are they frightened. You rlly have a way with insults

Yoongi:

Bickers with you, but doesn't fight and everyone does not understand how bc he’s so standoffish to everyone else

Bc your relationship has the most public eyes on it, gossip columns are floored when they cannot find flaws or rumors of fights, and most are too intimidated by Yoongi to just make them up

You both read each other like a book, so the only time anything comes up is if you don’t like what you’re reading at that moment and vice versa, then a fight might start but it is shockingly rare

If he makes you cry, the fight is over, he lost. Yes, this is a running theme among the guys bc they are all whipped dummies

Very perceptive of your feelings, so never really worries about fighting with you or you hiding anything from him

You know how to get him to fess up so it's not the worst system of communication (still not healthy in the slightest but that’s the yandere life here)

He doesn't really try to lie to you or hide anything since you're also pretty bonkers so if he destroyed someone’s career bc he thought they looked at funny, you just roll your eyes and tell him he’s silly

You are the one that Jungkook and Taehyung are terrified of (It’s just about all the hyungline gf’s they are rlly scared of)

You’re usually so bubbly and energetic, but if you get pissed off, you’re as frightening if not more frightening than Yoongi

I should add Yoongi prefers to make up by marathon eating you out, at some point, it feels like he’s getting a kick out of it, but you’re in no place to complain tbh

Hoseok:

Not a lot of fighting here tbh bc you are still healing and your talent is in deescalating situations and telling people’s feeling

Your job is literally a behavior analyst so you will just deadass be like, “I can tell you’re getting frustrated to a point where effective communication won’t be possible, so how can I help calm you down?”

Makes him go silent real quick and reevaluate everything he has ever thought or done

For this reason, he just sighs and apologizes, genuinely bc you can absolutely tell when he’s just saying it to shut you up

He is the only one that will allow you to leave (the room, not the house) not that you want to leave the building considering the dangers you know are out there

Once you both cool off, you’ll have him state what he thought about and vice versa

You give advice to all the girls on how to do this, but not all of them are brave enough to try

So you go full mama bear mediator and step in when you feel the need

You genuinely frighten these guys bc you have this innate ability to make them feel dumb as fuck

Namjoon:

No fights rlly but misunderstandings happen that makes Joon go manic

You get frustrated bc he does this instead of just talking to you, but he’s learning little by little

The moment you aren’t smiling or trying to make a light joke with him, fight over, you won, he is worried

Bc he knows if you’re not smiling, you’re almost definitely going to cry and when you cry, he cries

You actually implement Angel’s tips and see some improvement with communication as time goes on

Namjoon’s love language in making up is grand gestures, so he’ll rent out a whole restaurant, or take you on a shopping spree to an art supply store, anything that will bring a smile to your face

You intimidate the other guys when they fight with their darlings bc you keep a smile the whole time you are threatening them and holy fuck is it eerie. You usually try to distract the upset girls post-argument with a craft or fun art facts

Jimin:

What makes the relationship work are your selfish tendencies working in tandem with his more sinister ones, but it can’t always work that way

You both test each other all the time despite agreeing on almost everything because the relationship is not a fight for dominance, but control-control you usually win 

The closest you get to real fighting is rough sex, most of the time you have disagreements that you resolve with conversation

It's the most “healthy” (it’s not all that healthy tbh) thing about the relationship and it blows everyone's minds, but it only happens bc Jimin has always respected you, and he genuinely knows that you don’t need him as much as he needs you

But on the extremely rare occasion there is a fight it is never in front of anyone and all hell breaks loose: screaming, yelling, slamming doors, it all seems like endless hell bc you both are too stubborn to say when you’re wrong

Until you cry

He really can't stand the sight of you crying, bc you rarely ever cry. He sees you as really tough and his whole perception of the world shatters once he realizes he’s the cause of your tears

Making up includes, you guessed it, sex. Like calling into work bc you can’t walk sex (Jimin cries during this sex bc he feels undeserving but by round 2 he stops)

The girls come to you post-argument to rant bc you live to talk shit with them to vent

Taehyung:

Rarely ever fights with you, because he absolutely despises doing so and you typically do what he says without question

But when you do fight, it always ends with both of you crying and hugging

During the argument though, he can say some seriously out of pocket shit, bc he lacks impulse control and you take that shit to hear bc who wouldn’t 

The fights are nightmarish and hard to watch bc at some point it just becomes Taehyung losing his mind while you cower until he realizes how much of an asshole he’s being or until you try to leave mid convo

Bless him if he were to ever make you cry in front of the other MC’s, my guy would be ripped to shreds bc the other girls do not fuck around

Hates to ever be the cause of your tears so you both are very quick to makeup and he can spend up to weeks making up for it

I’m talking gifts, money, food, dates, clothes, he is basically your personal assistant that pays you when he feels bad

The girl’s come to you after an argument for quiet time or some cute embroidery time

Jungkook:

You don't fight often, but when you do it's disastrous bc he is wildly paranoid and you are wildly insecure

You almost always go into a panic attack, fearing he'll leave you and he immediately loses all fight in him and feels like shit

And he is absolutely crushed seeing you hyperventilate or clutch your chest while he's yelling so he just stops like mid yell will just close his mouth and take a deep breath before going to you 

Immediately apologizes when it happens

Usually cries with you while he holds you

Another fella that will get torn to shreds by the other girls if they even catch a whiff of him being anything other than sunshine and rainbows to you rip jungkook tbh

He makes it up to you the same way Taehyung makes it up, by shutting his mouth and doing whatever you want, and giving you whatever you want

When the other girls get into an argument with their guy, they come to you for a hug and some quality time distraction

#ask #anon ask #seven princes of campus #yandere bts

[adamarks]

If one more person says simon snow should lose his wings i’m gonna lose my goddamn mind: a meta

Alright you guys, I’ve had ENOUGH. Simon cannot lose his wings unless you want him to break up with Baz, and this is why.

Let’s start with Baz.

This analysis is obviously Simon-based, and yes i’ll get there, but first we need to look at the biggest key we’ve been given to what Simon’s wings could possibly mean subtextually and metaphorically for the story at large. That key is: Baz’s vampirism. 

Baz being a vampire is constantly compared to/mentioned in tandem with his queerness in Carry On. In his first chapters, what are the three most important traits that we learn about him? 

he’s a drama queen

he’s a vampire

he’s hopelessly in love with simon snow

If you boil his character down until he’s basically just a stick figure, that’s what he is: an over dramatic vampire in love with Simon Snow.

We’ve all read the books, we all know this, and we all know he’s much more than that. What of it?

What’s important is that Baz’s vampirism is treated almost the exact same as his homosexuality. 

Hiding it from everyone, being ashamed of it, knowing what you are but being terrified of it. His dad being “definitely more disappointed in my queerness than my undeadness.” 

I mean, holy shit, let’s look at this bit in Carry on from Chapter 51:

“I think if I got married, to a girl from a good family, my father wouldn’t even care that I’m queer. “

This scene really hits, because how many times have you wondered “What if I was straight? Maybe this thing wouldn’t be as bad?” “What if i was just a straight poc?” “What if I was only gay and not trans?” “What if I was only disabled and not gay on top of it?” What if, what if, what if. Would my life be easier? you wonder. Would I get hurt less? Would people treat me better?

If Carry On is about self-realization, then Wayward Son is about the struggle of self-acceptance. 

Baz going to Las Vegas and meeting Lamb probably seemed familiar for some of you people that are LGBT+. It’s how you feel when you’re from a small town and you go to a big city like New York or Orlando or LA for the first time and you see gay people all around you. Flamboyantly gay! Gay people holding hands! Gay people kissing! Trans people that don’t fit the gender norms! Older trans ladies just walking down the street!

It’s exciting, it’s exhilarating. Your baby-gay brain is so confused because no one’s giving them dirty looks. They don’t look nervous or ashamed. Is this allowed?

The party in the penthouse is glamorous and beautiful and alluring and none of the humans there are scared or look like they’re in real danger. It’s because they aren’t. None of those vampires are there to kill people. 

This is where Baz’s fear of his own nature comes in. Let’s hear it for all you homosexuals in the crowd that are/have been terrified of being predatory. Of turning the gender you’ve been told all of your life you’re not supposed to want into pieces of meat. You feel ashamed for wanting physical intimacy. You feel wrong for wanting emotional intimacy. 

Lamb is the older gay that you meet/learn about/watch on youtube or whatever that makes you learn that no, you’re not inherently evil. Lamb is the queer history, the queer movies, the queer people that you discover that make you learn that “no, i’m not bad. I’m not broken. I’m beautiful. I’m beautiful.” 

Baz thinking the sight of Lamb drinking that guy’s blood being alluring and beautiful is crucial to his arc. Baz needs to see that all of him is beautiful. 

So homosexuality = Baz being a vampire? How in the flying fuck does this have anything to do with Simon?

Remember, Baz is our key. His struggles have been happening since book one. Simon just gained his “creature” status at the end of Carry On. He’s new to this. Which means we’re new to the subtext. Which means: let’s dive on into the next big point.

Our Big Bisexual Boy

Whatever label you choose to use for Simon is up to you. As long as we all agree he likes more than one gender then it’s whatevs. I’m going to be using the word bisexual for this meta, though. 

We’re all well aware that Simon is Struggling with his bisexuality in this book. 

“I still haven’t sorted out whether I’m still attracted to women or whether I ever was, or whether I’m some kind of Baz-only-sexual. But the cleavage at this place is abundant, and I’m not mad about it.”

(taken from chapter 21) 

Like....... y’know. We know. It’s... we get it. 

The important part of that quote is that it’s at the Ren Faire. The Ren Faire is the first time Simon’s had his wings out in public since god-knows-when, if ever. This is also the first time he really considers kissing Baz in the book. Kissing Baz in Public.

Any of you that have been to Pride probably got a little bit of the warm fuzzies during this scene. The faire brought back such deep memories of my first pride it was a little bit emotional. I talked to random people, people ran around in rainbow outfits. There was body paint! Stupid hats! Weird dye jobs! The classic pride-flag-as-a-cape look! I talked to so many people and 

“Everyone here is so friendly.”

(also taken from chapter 21)

Everyone was so nice to me.

Baz feels right at home; Simon is all smiles. The only one not having a blast is Penny and she’s (I’m sorry, Penny) the token straight friend in these books. 

I don’t know how Rainbow did it, but she made me relive my first pride through Simon, and I’ll never not be grateful for that. 

“Today I’m someone else entirely. Today I’m just a bloke with fake red wings.”

The Pride/Ren Faire parallels were pretty obvious, but I wanna get a little further into the whole “wings = being bisexual” thing. 

We’ve established with Baz that being a magical creature or whatnot is Gay, but while Baz is fully magical, Simon’s “half-normal.” Kind of. It’s a weird situation there but half-normal works for the argument. 

“’Smells like dragon... but also smells like iron. Another abomination!’” 

(chapter 35)

Now the word “abomination” is really fucking unfortunate in this context, but biphobia exists so idk man. I’m gonna start talking in gay/straight terms and I absolutely know bisexuality isn’t half-gay half-straight but we’re talking in metaphors and i’ll tie it together at the end so just stick with me, okay?

He’s part dragon, part Normal (kind of). Simon’s not like Baz where he’s absolutely, 100% a vampire. He has traits of dragons and humans. This is why it’s so bad that he hates his wings half the time. They are part of him. They may not be “normal” and he may have to hide them, but he can’t just cut off the gay part. Our queerness doesn’t define us, but it’s a defining feature. 

Penny says she wouldn’t be her if she wasn’t a mage. Simon wouldn’t be Simon if he wasn’t bi. 

The mistake Simon and almost everyone else makes during this book is that they think of his wings as these separate entities. There is no gay part and straight part of Simon Snow. All of him is Simon. From the tips of his toes to the tops of his wings, all of him is Simon. He might’ve discovered this part of himself during a tragic point in his life, but that doesn’t mean it has to be something bad. It doesn’t have to be something tainted. 

Sometimes you discover things about yourself during the hardest moments of your life. When you’re already down in the dirt, beaten and bruised, sometimes a mirror is put in front of you and you realize something. You realize you’re trans. You realize you’re gay. And sometimes you resent those realizations because they came to you at the worst possible time. “This is just one more thing on my plate,” you think. 

This series is about reclaiming the things that where taken from you by the ones that hurt you. 

Simon’s going to have to learn to love his wings, because even though they remind him of something that hurts-- hurts more than anything-- they’re part of him. They are him, as much as the rest of his body is. Simon’s going to have to forgive himself, and learn to love himself for all that he is. 

Because all that he is is beautiful. 

We all know it; it’s time for him to understand that.

All right, bitches. Let’s get to the bit we all REALLY care about. this is the one that really fucks me up my dudes. Because it’s Brutal. But anyways here we go.

His wings are the Big Baz Love 

What are the two things that Simon’s  considering cutting off in this book?

“That’s what I’m going to say when I break up with Baz.”

“Dr. Wellbelove said he could remove the wings. And the tail. Whenever I’m ready.”

(Chapter 2, Epilogue)

Yikes!

My guys..... Simon and Baz don’t kiss unless Simon’s wings are out.

I truly do not understand how some of you are out here saying Simon’s gonna lose his wings I really don’t. It’s stressful. I’m stressed. Ms. Rainbow Rowell, you have me stressed. 

His Wings! Are! His Love!

On Love’s Light Wings!

Goatman dances his nasty little fingers all over the bridge that is Baz’s ass? Wings out, uses his tail to help kill the guy. Lamb is hitting on Baz too much? 

“’Spell my wings off.’”

(Chapter 45)

In the airport, when a lady is giving them the “don’t be gay” stink eye he immediately checks to make sure his tail is hidden. 

Baz can’t spell his wings off, guys. 

Baz can’t spell his wings away.

“’Snow needs you to cast your angel spell on him. I hid his wings for breakfast, but they’re still there.’“

(Chapter 19)

In Chapter 41, the biggest kiss scene we get, Simon wraps his wings around Baz to hold him. He’s embracing him in his love guys. Guys. 

Have you people noticed how i’m suddenly less articulate? It’s because i’m in crisis. Set me on fire I wouldn’t notice. I’ve been living with this terrible knowledge.

The first scene we finally see them kiss is after the scene at the Ren Faire when Simon’s wings are finally out and he finally got to fly.

“Simon catches up with me and traps me against the car. He’s kissing me before I see it coming.” 

Simon is so dtf in this scene Penny throws a water bottle at them, and it hits him in the wing. 

“’So hot,’ Simon Says. ‘Got to see you fight without picking a fight with you myself.’

Bunce throws a plastic bottle over my shoulder, and it smacks Simon in the wing.”

(Chapter 22)

She had to smack him right in the love for him to calm down, my dudes, my guys. Do you realize how hard it was for me to annotate this goddamn book with this knowledge? Every. Single. Time. Simon stretches a wing or flaps them around it’s about Baz. It gets to the point where you have to put the book down or you’re gonna explode. 

Simon’s wings are always out around Lamb. He’s jealous as hell and he hates that motherfucker’s guts. The only real injuries Simon sustains in this book are to his wings and they’re almost always when Baz gets hurt too. 

When did Simon get his wings? Only a day after he first kissed Baz.

Simon’s love for Baz is so big and so obnoxious he can’t hide it. His wings and tail have spikes, because that’s all Simon knows. He’s rough around the edges, he’s been hurt, he’s been used.

He’s never been in love before.

His love is spiky; it’s loud. It’s hotrod red and you can’t miss it when it’s out. Baz can’t see it, because Simon’s tucked it away. He hasn’t flown with it. He hasn’t wrapped it around Baz in so long. He doesn’t know how to handle a love this big, where to put it, when to unfurl it. 

Simon gets jealous. He gets scared. He’s insecure. He wants so dearly to finally give to someone instead of feeling like he’s just giving in. Like he’s still just taking from Baz.

What do you do with wings? 

How do you find somewhere safe to fly?

The Resolution.

I said earlier that if Carry On is a story of self-discovery, Wayward Son is a story of self-acceptance.

Simon has to love himself, and learn that his love for Baz is a good thing. As he accepts himself (and his dragon powers evolve go read my dragon simon meta it’s good.) he’s going to start to shine. 

This is a story being told to us with nothing but love. This is a story about a boy that’s his own worst enemy-- as all of us often are. It’s so scary to accept our wings. It’s so scary to accept our fangs. Especially when they’ve come out of such a hideous occurrence. 

We need to accept these dark times and acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, we were made more beautiful because of them. Maybe the light we give after we’ve been in darkness is more vibrant, because we know how scary the dark is. The things that happened to us were horrible, and hideous, and terrifying, but we aren’t. We’re different from how we were before, but we’re still beautiful. 

Simon Snow is going to accept himself.

Simon Snow is going to accept his past.

Simon Snow is going to finally, finally tell Baz he loves him.

And for the first time, Simon Snow is going to see that he’s beautiful.

If you’ve liked this meta you should also check out this one where i explain how they’re finally gonna get their relationship together. Also the one about the scarf

Special thank you to @singerofsimplesongs for listening to me howl and screech about this damn thing. 

Tagging some people that might be interested!

@neck-mole @watfordwallflower @carrybits @theflyingpeach @fight-surrender @shitty-posty-times @wisest-girl @slaying-fictional-dragons @gucciglitzy

#carry on #wayward son #any way the wind blows #rainbow rowell #simon snow #snowbaz #baz pitch #Penelope Bunce #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #tyrannus basilton pitch #wayward son spoilers #meta #wayward son meta #carry on meta #this will end in flames #agatha wellbelove

[gureishi]

Happy Monday!!! Hope you’re week started well?? It’s that time again!!! What was your first kiss with Saeyoung like?? Enjoy!!! ♥️

OMG I’m answering your Monday ask on Thursday and I feel like I shall answer your Thursday ask on like...Sunday, lol. But I love you and I love this question <3

I’ve written some fics about the way I imagine the first kiss with Saeyoung in canon—but for this lovely self-ship ask, I’ll tell you how I picture it would go down with me, lol.

When Saeyoung is putting his walls up in the apartment, I would be very anxious and paranoid; I’d tiptoe around him; I’d probably cry in the bathroom a lot. I’m really sensitive, and even though I’d logically be able to put the pieces together and understand more or less why he’s doing what he’s doing, I’d also definitely convince myself that he hates me.

But after he decides that he’s ready to try—after he says that he wants to be together, and he’s willing to open up to me, even though it scares him?

All bets are off.

I am this really fun combination of needy and afraid to ask for what I want—which means that I’d end up following him around the apartment making my “please kiss me now” face as aggressively as I could. Which is sort of like, uh...wide eyes, tilted head, starting quietly—I'd be posing on the edge of the bed, twirling my hair, trying to look all cute (and generally making a fool of myself). And the poor boy doesn’t know the first thing about this stuff, so he doesn’t...really know what’s going on. He thinks it’s cute—but he doesn’t understand that I want him to do something.

So eventually I get fed up. “Hey,” I say, coming to sit beside him as he works. “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up—sees the way I’m looking (uncharacteristically nervous, alarmingly determined), and stops working entirely.

“What’s up?” he asks. He moves like he’s going to take my hand, but he doesn’t do it—he’s still not sure how he’s supposed to act with me, now.

“Do you want to kiss me or not?” I ask—and it comes out more combative than I intended: too fast, too loud. At first, he’s frozen—sure he didn’t hear right, totally caught off guard. I wait—I’m making the face again—and oh, he thinks. He knows what it means now. Slowly, his face turns red: first the tips of his ears, then his cheeks, then his forehead and even his neck.

He tries to play it cool. He tries to agree. He tries to tease me. He tries to ask what I mean. It comes out like “Gaahheheahah?”

I realize, then, that if it’s going to happen, I’m going to have to take matters into my own hands.

So I do—literally. I take his flushed cheeks in both hands, and I pull him close. I can practically hear his heart racing. 

“Do you wanna?” I whisper, when I’m just a heartbeat away. He doesn’t answer. He reaches for me then—and his face is hot but his hand, when it lands on my waist, is steady.

He kisses me first, after all. It’s quick, like he’s afraid he’ll get it wrong—but I wrap my arms around his neck and tug him closer. And oh: there are more kisses after that. And he may not know what he’s doing, but he is attentive and receptive—he takes my lead; he catches on quickly. His hands are in my hair; he pants into my parted lips. And we on sitting on the floor, surrounded by computers and chips bags, and maybe I’m in pajamas, and neither of us has slept properly in days—but for a moment, we forget where we are, and we forget what we’re afraid of. It’s all hearts beating in tandem and gasping hands and shivering breaths.

The world’s turning faster and faster around us—but for a moment, we make it stand still.

#mystic messenger #saeyoung choi #707 #self-ship #self-ship asks #lea's lovely questions <3

[charged-wanderlust]

a beautiful hurricane, pt. 3 | jett slater x mc x remy chevalier

THIS... THIS IS ALMOST 3K WORDS LMFAOOO well. i hope that makes up for the wait SDFGJSDHDS warning for mild smut ahead!!! anyway thank you so much @mcira for commissioning me, it helps me greatly and was so fun to do! if anyone else wants me to write them something, my commission prices are here!

What you really end up doing, instead of talking to Remy, is first, talking to Nikolai.

It only felt right - nobody knew Remy like Nikolai did, you’re pretty sure they dated once upon a time but refuse to talk about it, and Nikolai working with all of you made his approval very significant to the matter at hand.

“You’re asking for my blessing… to ask out Remy?” He blinks, dazed and confused, an uncommon expression from the mastermind himself. “Why do I have a say in who he dates?”

“It’s less asking for permission and more like asking for advice,” you explain quickly, scratching awkwardly at the back of your neck. “We know Remy is the jealous type, that much is obvious. So we just wanna know what you think on the whole polyamory thing - would Remy try it? Do you know how he feels about.. about us?”

Nikolai scoffs, his signature smirk returning. “The real question is, who doesn’t know how he feels about you two?” His words make you and Jett flush parallel shades of red, but you let him continue. “Yes, he’s definitely in love with you both. And that’s precisely why he hasn’t done anything about it; he doesn’t think he deserves one partner, let alone two. Instead, he drags out this con as long as physically possible just so he can pretend to be your husband a little bit longer, pretend like he can have you before you inevitably end up with Jett.”

Jett strokes his chin in thought, gears turning in his brain. “That would also explain why he’s been a lot more forward with me lately, but only when MC isn’t around… wow, he really thinks it’s his last chance, huh?”

He nods. “Exactly. In his head, he’s not worthy of love and you two deserve each other and are perfect together. I don’t even think the thought of polyamory has even crossed his mind.”

“Well it should!” Jett protests, like it means anything to Nikolai. “We both wanna date him, and he wants both of us! What now?”

“What do you think?” Nikolai asks it like it’s the most obvious question in the world. “You ask him.”

-

It has to be dramatic, you’d decided. Something awe-inducing, something solid and concrete so he can’t argue - because if there’s one thing Remy Chevalier knows how to do, it’s argue. You work with the Poppy to get Remy out of the penthouse - Vivienne might have poisoned him just a little to get the job done - long enough to stuff his room with lilies of the valley, and you help Jett paint the border of Remy’s mirror with all the little things you can think of that have some semblance of importance to you.

Making sure to use easy-to-remove paints, the two of you get carried away, branching from the edges of his mirror onto the walls, painting sunsets shared and fireworks made and foods had together. You and Jett work in perfect tandem with each other, art connecting to make one big picture that almost looks like a time-lapse of all the time you’d spent with him; the sunset where Jett realised his love for Remy all those years ago fading into the ice cream shop you discovered Remy’s favourite flavour was vanilla, fading into the river you all boated down together and learned that Remy has a surprisingly sweet singing voice.

Jett keeps pausing in the middle of his paintings, though, and eventually it becomes enough to make you ask.

“Jett? At first I thought you were just thinking about the painting real hard, but you’re not even looking at it. What’s wrong?”

You thought he was starting to get insecure, but instead, he laughs. He laughs and it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever heard.

“Nothing’s wrong, love, I’m looking at you.”

“Oh.”

“You’re most attractive when you’re in your element like this, I think,” he explains, touching up the clouds on his side of the wall. “I just can’t help but think of how lucky I am.”

About an hour too early, the door flies open, and both of you whip around to find Remy in the doorway.

“Ah-ha I knew you guys were… up to… something…..” His voice trails off as he takes in the view before him, the flowers he’d only ever given those he’d loved, the paintings that he recognised the meanings of instantly, his own face in the mirror with a little crown painted atop his head- “What… what is all this? I thought it’d be another prank but… this… this is beautiful…”

You exchange a look with Jett, grinning from ear to ear, and gesture Remy to come sit on the bed with you.

“Oh-ho-ho, this is a really elaborate one is it? Let me guess. All of this for a really well-timed whoopee cushion?”

“How you wound me,” Jett sighs, bringing his hand to his forehead. “You really think that low of us?”

“I assure you, Remy,” you chip in, “I wouldn’t spend this much effort on a prank.”

“Then what else?”

Once again, you turn to Jett, who looks just as uncertain of what to say as you are. “Uh. Something important?”

Taking a deep breath, you figure you’re going to have to do the talking for the both of you.

“I’m gonna start talking, Remy, and I don’t want you to say shit till I say I’m finished. Okay?”

Remy is completely and utterly bewildered, but he nods slowly and sits on the bed, door shutting behind him as he observes the memories plastered all over his bedroom wall.

“We’re in love with you,” Jett blurts out, and it startles you so much you elbow him in the rib.

“What was that for?!”

“Ever heard of laying it on slowly?!”

“You’re… what?”

You sigh, gathering the courage to look Remy in the eyes as you talk. “Remy… over these past few months, working with you, getting to know you, the real you - the Remy underneath all those masks you wear to please people - I find I don’t want to stop being yours when the con ends. I-If you’ll have me, that is. And if you’ll have Jett, too.”

“It wasn’t the marriage con we did once that made me fall for you, actually,” Jett laughs, running a hand through his hair. “It was before that. That one kiss on the rooftop in Buenos Aires when the sun rose, when we didn’t go any further than that. All of a sudden it wasn’t about the sex anymore, or how good of a kisser you are - it was about you. Just you.”

“And before you butt in about me falling in love with you because you’re acting as my husband,” you interject, giving him a stern, knowing look that makes him shrink a little, “You’ve been teaching me all your tricks. I know when you’re being real or not. You can even test me.”

Something changes is Remy’s eyes when you say that, and he fixes them on yours.

“I love you.”

“That’s real.”

He smiles, but it’s the smile of a broken man, getting up to leave. “It’s not, ma cherie. You’re not as good as you think you are.”

“That’s also a lie!” He freezes, pinned under your glare, and you grab his hand, threading your fingers with his. Jett does the same with his other hand, face uncharacteristically solemn, and once again, Remy is speechless. “That’s what you want to believe, Remy, you’re lying to yourself more than anyone else. You think you’re getting in the way of us, you think you don’t deserve it but let me tell you, there’s a way. We can love you as much as we love each other - we do, and if you don’t wanna believe it that’s your own loss because we really, really care about you!”

The silence is is deafening enough to make your hands tremble.

“That- That’s all I have to say. Jett?”

“I’ve never been good with words,” Jett huffs, bringing Remy’s hand to his mouth and pressing a gentle kiss across the man’s knuckles. “But I can prove how I feel about you in any way you ask, Remy. Through touch, through action, hell, through painting-” he gestures at the colourful wall behind him in exasperation, “-it’s all for you. These are all memories-”

“The time we had brunch on a boat,” Remy cut in, gazing fondly at the river painted atop his mirror. “The time in Bruges we kissed to be inconspicuous… the time I brought you ice cream tasting…” His eyes landed on the flowers adorning the sides of his room. “The flowers I’d given you.”

His mouth opens and closes like he’s trying to speak underwater, but he’s ran out of air - ran out of words - so instead, he wraps an arm around each of you and pulls you in for a soul-crushing hug, burying his face in your shoulders. He doesn’t make a noise, but his body quivers, and you and Jett realise he’s crying at the same time.

“I-I love you both, too.” His voice is small, but not weary - it’s just for you and Jett only, not the ears in the walls. “I love you both so much it-it- it hurts and I didn’t know what to do with myself and I just-”

He sits back up, wiping the tears from his face and giving you a real smile this time, the smile you see in your sketchbook, your dreams, your future - “It’s just too good to be true, almost. Like there’s meant to be a catch.”

Jett cups Remy’s face, kissing him softly, briefly, but enough to send tingles down his spine.

“The catch is you’re going to have to deal with both of us and all the shenanigans that ensue.”

Remy returns the kiss, just as chaste but just as lovingly. “I guess I have my hands full, then.”

“You sure do!” You laugh, climbing into his lap, jokingly shoving Jett aside - to which he yelps, “hey!” - and bringing your face close to Remy’s. “My turn, Remy. You told me a real kiss could tear open the sky. Care to demonstrate?”

He doesn’t waste a moment. You feel his smirk against your lips before you see it, welcoming the blistering heat as he pulls you closer to him, chest to chest. Finally, finally, finally - you thread your fingers in his long, silky hair, just like you’ve imagined so long, and all the teasing was so worth it because he kisses you like he can’t live without it. Maybe he can’t, not now that he’s had a taste and it really does break open the sky; the whole galaxy and beyond.

Getting impatient, Jett moves behind you, knocking Remy back onto the mattress and pinning you between them. He doesn’t expect you to stop kissing Remy - he knows firsthand how addicting his kiss is - instead, he tosses your hair over one shoulder and places his lips upon your now exposed neck, light, not tentative but tantalizing.

“Jett…”

“Oh, don’t let me interrupt you two,” he purrs next to your ear, ghosting his lips across the shell. “I’m quite enjoying the show.”

“You tease,” Remy half-chuckles-half-rasps, reaching past you to grab Jett’s collar and yank him down into another searing kiss, only to bite his lip harsh enough to make him gasp, then pulling back to leave him hanging.

Jett licks his lips, eyes flashing at the unspoken challenge. “So how are we doing this, then?”

“We’ve danced this dance before, you and I,” Remy muses, tracing Jett’s jawline with the pad of his thumb, “We should let MC decide.”

“I’ve danced this dance with both of you,” Jett snickers, peeling off the two of you to start working the buckles of his suspenders, giving you a cheeky wink. “Maybe I should give you tips. For example…”

He rolls you off Remy, pinning your wrists above your head, “MC likes being manhandled a little bit. And she’s really sensitive right here-” He sucks at the soft skin above your collarbone and you let out a soft whine on instinct, embarrassment painted all over your face, but you don’t miss the way Remy’s eyes darken at the sound.

“Good to know… any other tips I should know?”

“Ah-ah-ah, it should be fair for both of you.”

This time, he cages Remy to the bed, and you watch with rapt attention as he hikes the other man’s shirt up, giving you a brilliant view of his toned muscles. Jett leans down and drags his teeth along his v-line, making his legs twitch beneath him.

“Ah- Jett, you’re a menace.”

“You love it.”

A disgruntled sigh is the only confirmation he gives, but the smile on his face says it all as he shrugs off his shirt entirely, throwing it somewhere else in the room. “I quite preferred MC on top of me, actually.”

“Mm, it is a good look on you,” Jett agrees, helping you out of your clothes with surprising calmness compared to his usual frenzied movements. Clearly, Remy brings out the side of him that likes to really savour it.

Remy can’t help but groan at the sight of you in all your glory, taking Jett’s advice from earlier and tugging you atop him impatiently - maybe Jett brought out the beast in Remy, too.

Emboldened by his eagerness, you grind down on him, and the low rumble you hear from him in response is music to your ears. “I didn’t know our Remy was so… vocal.”

“Oh, you haven’t heard him when he’s taking it-”

“If we have to bring that up, mon coeur, I think you have me beat.”

You giggle, magnetically drawn to his lips once more while your hands fumble with his belt; Jett helps you discard the remaining cloth in the way so you and Remy finally, finally come together - it’s electric. You feel the static buzz all the way down to your toes, and it’s so, so good.

“Think you can handle both of us, love?” Jett peppers your shoulder blades with kisses, and while just the thought makes you shudder - you nod, almost too enthusiastically.

“I want it.”

“Good girl.”

The addition of Jett fills the room the with a chorus of moans that you can barely tell who from who. They give you a minute to adjust - ever the gentlemen - and next thing you know is an all-encompassing pleasure that pulses through your whole body, and you swear you can see stars. You have to bite down on Remy’s shoulder to not alert the entire building of the debauchery going on in the room, but he just grips your hips harder, growling deep in his chest.

“Don’t hold back on me, ma reveuse. Let us hear you.”

Who are you to deny him?

Noise complaints be damned, you think - the Poppy had stayed in town for this very reason. With every movement from Remy and Jett, your mind goes blank, only able to focus on the two of them working in perfect harmony, their hips, their lips, their hands, their voices, just them, them, them.

“C-Christ, you’re incredible- you’re both incredible. I’m- I’m-”

Jett’s pace stutters, but Remy keeps going, absolutely voracious, and your highs all crash down at once. Your back arches, toes curl, and you don’t even recognise the sounds leaving your mouth, but your two boyfriends ride out the wave with you, muttering choked-up praise in your ear and hushed I love you’s until your soul finally returns to your body.

The three of you collapse on the bed, a tangle of limbs and sweat, and Jett has the audacity to laugh. Not even having the breath to reply, you just tilt your head at him, raising a brow in question.

“Hah- If I knew this was how it would’ve ended up, I would’ve asked you both out a lot sooner, fuck…”

You gave him a worn-out, lazy grin. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Remy pecks your cheek affectionately, rolling out of bed to head for the bathroom. “I’ll get you a towel.”

“You did great, love,” Jett hums softly, stroking your hair rhythmically, gazing at you with entire galaxies behind his eyes. “Don’t worry. Between me and Remy, we can carry you everywhere until you can walk again.”

“I’d kiss that stupid smirk off your face if I had the energy,” you huff, crossing your arms. “You’re way too smug for your own good.”

“You love it.”

Remy returns with a damp towel, gently wiping you down with enough care to turn your limbs to jelly if they weren’t already bone-tired. “We do, unfortunately. What a shame.”

Jett weakly whacks him on the shoulder, and the three of you laugh together like the notes of a perfect chord. It’s hectic, all of you being together, but it’s perfect. Life never did stop being a hurricane, but with these two by your side, you know you can surrender to the harsh winds, letting it carry you along like a roller coaster - heart always thumping, eyes always shining.

You never knew a hurricane could be so beautiful.

#FINALLY THIS HULK OF A FIC IS DONE #well its not the longest thing ive written by far but #it sure is for lovestruck anyway #lovestruck voltage #queen of thieves #qot mc #jett slater #remy chevalier #jett x mc #jett x remy #remy x mc #jett x remy x mc #lovestruck fanfiction

[punkremus]

okay, i have listened to the playlist in full and here are my thoughts (please forgive my rambling; i had so much fun with this and it allowed me to procrastinate the next chapter so truly thank you ❤️):

“go fuck yourself”: as i listened, i tried to categorize them into either din/reader/or reader&din songs and this one felt very din&reader. just this tandem slog through life beside one another without really being together (yet).

“fresh blood”: oh a din song, absolutely. the line “i know you’re probably gettin’ ready for bed” made me think of gorgu too 😩

“help i’m alive”: shit that’s the reader in a nutshell omg. “hard to be tough/tough to be tender” OOF

“i come with knives”: BITCH THE VIBES OF THIS SONG. right off the bat. damn! idk wtf they’re saying in the german section, but i’m fucking here fOR IT!!!!

“angel of small death…”: i am obsessed with the idea of the reader somehow being seen as this tiny, magnificent force. like so much bigger than herself even though she doesn’t realize it quite yet.

“sour times”: ooh, this song. gosh, where to start? it has such a dangerous thread to it. it makes me think of them tiptoeing around one another in this eggshell sort of dance, not knowing who will break first. cHilLS

“broken boy solider”: someone give DIN DJARIN A HUG. this is his inner theme song on a constant loop.

“if you run”: wow—such a change of pace, but i love it. i think NH has such a grungy, metal feel to it (idk what i’m talking about) but also some folksy whimsy and this song fits that perfectly in my head. also: “fading into each other’s arms/he took her down to his hiding place” i don’t think that’s supposed to be romantic, but i’m pretending it is. sue me.

“give up the ghost”: this song makes me kinda emo. a din&reader to be sure. them both just wanting to be loved by each other, too afraid to ask. FUCK.

“black flies”: yES another folksy! the refrain at the end really gets me good. right in the heart.

“gasoline”: aw hell yeah. another reader BOP. she’s got such a bitchy vibe; i love it.

“dark”: shit… “I am the dark one in my bloodline/I fear my shadow like a beast/It's a lingering mellow that won't leave me/I fear one day it'll swallow me whole” is this…. her backstory in a nutshell? idk, you tell me.

“fuel to the fire”: this gives me reader addressing din vibes. like a pained loved letter to him.

“biting down”: to be frank, i don’t know what the fuck this song is talking about. but somehow, in relation to nighthawks, i get it.

“no one knows”: DIN. A DIN SONG. BECAUSE HE’S LIKE A BLANK BILLBOARD, IMPOSSIBLE TO IGNORE, IMPOSSIBLE TO READ. LOVE IT.

“virgin”: the chorus of this song… damn. i don’t know how to describe what it makes me imagine. them, together, still unsure of their future, just… trying?

“bully”: the line “bet you never though that I could be the one to let you down” makes me think of this as another song addressing din. woof.

“toxic”: britney, is that you? almost, but this version is better.

“master’s hands”: i feel like i’m ascribing every song to the reader and not enough to din….. but….. i just love her.

“hearing damage”: ooh! this is an interesting one! “You wish you felt better/In my eyes” feels quite din to me?

“howling”: oh fuuuuuuuuck they’re gonna be so in love one day and this is gonna be IT for them. “You were plush and I laid bare” DAMMIT

“troubled waters”/“patron saint hunter”: i just love the folksy vibe nighthawks can have at the same time as the metal/headbangers. i’m so glad that comes through the fic and i’m not the only one who felt that way.

“easy”: again, lorde with these confusing bangers that somehow just…. are chef’s kiss and fit perfectly to the mood of the fic. at least in my head!

“third eye”: this again feels like a song for the future of the fic, as things begin to unfold for them and they become more comfortable with one another.

“howl��: this definitely feels like a din&reader song! makes me wanna shimmy my shoulders hehe

“clockwork”: how do you find these songs that just fit them both so perfectly? there’s lines that could go for one or the other or for both and just… YOUR BRAIN

i cannot thank you enough for the gift of this playlist. it means more than you know. ❤️

Oh my god. OH MY GOD YOU WENT THROUGH EACH ONE??

Whew. Okay.

I am so glad you like this!! Music is how I process things, and it's like the only thing I contribute to fandom. My spotify looks like a crazy person's. Seriously.

I just gahhhhh!! Thank you for taking them time to write all this out. And I have some other Thoughts ✨

1. go fuck yourself: sexy vibes, but like, you hate this person. big vibes for current nighthawks.

2. fresh blood: again, sexy vibes but the line "beautiful woman get out of my head" just reminds me of Din thinking about Reader in the last chapter.

3. help i'm alive: I mean, that's just Reader. But also Din. I feel like they are such good parallels of each other.

4. I come with knives: again, just Reader. I love her, your honor.

5. Angel of small death: reader is a pint sized power house and it breaks Din's brain. That is all.

6. Sour times: I feel like even though they don't get each other yet, Din and Reader are so similar. "Nobody loves me it's true, not like you do"

7. Broken boy soldier: so I was actially thinking of Reader for this, but it totally fits for Din too now that I'm thinking about it. But just the line "I'm throwing the childhood things away" reminds me of Reader and Jeelia.

8. If you run: "if you run, you better have a place to go" that is all.

9. Give up the ghost: they both have so much baggage to work through, it thought it was a good song.

10. Black flies: "I don't want to beg your pardon, I don't want to ask you why, if I was to go my own way, would I have to pass you by"

11. Gasoline: just. Sex with no feelings vibes. (For now 👀)

12. dark: hit the nail on the head. Just tons of past Reader thoughts.

13. Fuel to fire: I mean, that's just their relationship in a title so far.

14. Biting down: this whole song is a drug reference, but the vibe reminds me of just bracing yourself through the pain because it's all you know and it's better than the alternative

15. No one knows: "oh what you do to me, no one knows" fun fact - I like this version better than the original (QOTSA fans, don't come at me)

16. Virgin: this entire song is about how you can devote your life to something (creed/son, or family/sister) and it can still be taken away in an instant

17. Bully: "I like it when you play too rough, so tell me when you've had enough"

18. Toxic: I mean...the ultimate dark sexy vibes

19. Master's Hands: "Pull my strings and cut my rope, rattle my frame and shatter my ghost" works with Din teaching her hunting and also works for sexy times 😏

20. hearing damage: "a tear in my brain allows the voices in" and "they say you're getting better, but you don't feel any better"

21. howling: "Cold I fell into your skin on the night you let me under your sin. You had me howling"

22. troubled waters: big reader and her past vibes. "I must be one of the devil's daughters"

23. patron saint hunter: "keep the family in, keep the family sin" and "evil isn't in your core"...i just love Reader okay

24. Easy: "easy, pull out your heart to make the being alone easy" they're just two lonely people with so much baggage, don't look at me

25. Third eye: "don't make a shadow of yourself, always shutting out the light" and "Cause there's a hole where your heart lies, I see it with my third eye."

26. Howl: "you are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl"

27. Clockwork: one of my favorite songs from one of my favorite bands. "Just like clockwork I react. You wind me up until I crack."

Aaaaaanywayyyy I'm just so happy you like it and I absolutely cannot wait for whatever you write next ✨

[mka1098]

I Ask For Your Hand In Marriage - A PJO Fanfic

A Percy Jackson Royal AU Fanfiction 

Description: Percy is a prince, Annabeth is a royal overseer and they both are idiots who don’t realize they are in love. 

Hear it read aloud here ! - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8LY0R0M8ZiE&t=17s 

Chapter One

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing…” 

In fact, Percy was not doing ‘nothing’. He was basically planking on a wooden stool; he had stolen it from the kitchens. “This  isn’t nothing.” Annabeth said with a pointed tone. Percy looked at her with big innocent seal eyes. “I’m not doing anything wrong.”

 Technically, he wasn’t. He was just laying on the wooden stool, swimming in the air like a normal person. Because normal people did that right? Yeahh… they totally did. 

“Where on earth did you get that?” She asked, walking over to him and crossing her arms. Her eyes were on the stool and Percy smirked up at her.

 “Oh this old thing? It’s always been here; nice to see you taking note in my decorations.” He said sarcastically. 

Annabeth frowned. “Why is this in your room.” She said tiredly. She muttered, ``I'm so tired of this, under her breath. Percy ignored it.

 “Kitchens. I wanted to teach the kids how to swim but since they have to stay by their parents, it has to be in the air. And I’ve never swam in the air so I’m practicing.” He explained.

 The corner of Annabeth’s lips raised; she was holding back a smile. “You’re a dork.” She said affectionately. Percy practically flopped around the stool; his abs were hurting from trying to stay up.

 “I’m doing good.” Percy defended himself. Annabeth ruffled his hair, making it more messy than it already was. 

“You’re always trying too.” She said with a smile. “But get up, you have other duties to perform; those that pertain to more than just the children in the kitchens.” Annabeth dragged him up and off of the stool by the front of his sleep shirt. 

“Awww.” He whined but stood up straight, reveling in the visible cringe on Annabeth's face as he stood taller than her. 

“Get that smirk off your face and get dressed. We’re meeting with the King and Queen.” Annabeth said, picking up the stool to probably go put it back. 

Percy rolled his eyes. “Those are my parents. They’ve seen me as a naked baby. I don’t think they care about me in Pjs.” He said snarkily. Annabeth narrowed her grey eyes at him. 

“It’s good to get ready anyways.” She told him, pinching the fabric of his seas themed fleece PJ pants. 

Percy stuck his tongue out at her. “Just for you.” Percy said sassily, tearing off his shirt and shrugging on a ‘nicer’ sweatshirt. It was nicer because unlike the former, it had no holes in it. Annabeth scoffed and turned around to leave the room. 

“You don’t wanna be here when I change into jeans?” Percy called after her with a devilish laugh. 

”You wish, Jackson.” Annabeth threw behind her shoulder.

Percy chuckled to himself. Not only was Annabeth his best friend, but she was also his royal overseer; it was an uproar when they announced it. The past 3 kings had the same royal overseer so it had been a shock to everyone when a randam, non-noble teenage girl had been chosen by the crown prince to take that role. But truly, she was the best option. 

For one, Percy did not listen to anyone but Annabeth. There was no way even wise old Chiron could get him to follow the old traditions that he needed too. Annabeth was able to make Percy begrudgingly put on the formal suits and perform speeches. Not only that, she was responsible, smart and organized; all things a royal overseer needed to be. Percy was so happy to have her in his life. She was the best friend ever; she dealt with him and organized everything. And she was funny and caring and never let him get away with being an idiot. They had been friends for years, 12 to be exact. Annabeth knew him better than he knew himself. 

“That took far too long.” Annabeth deadpanned when Percy stepped out of his bedroom. He stuck his tongue out at her, as all adults do. 

“No big deal.” He said, throwing an arm around Annabeth's shoulders. She shoved it off with a frown. 

“You should still look your best and be on time. Nevermind the fact that they are your parents.” She chastised. 

Percy rolled his eyes but didn’t object or talk back. “Good morning!’ He chimed to the staff; they smiled widely and greeted him with optimistic remarks. Percy had always made it a goal to make all the staff feel welcome and seen. Maybe times in the past, they were regarded as tools and Percy resented that past. 

“I overheard your father has a huge proclamation for you.” One of the staff members said with a smirk.

 Percy tilted his head to the side? “Really? They just said they wanna talk to me.” He thought out loud. 

The staff member sent him a tense smile. “Hopefully you don’t mind his proclamation.” Percy’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion. What? Why wouldn’t he like what his father had to say? At most, it would be oh add this class to your studies, retake this class, help the general with his plans, do more royal duties. He looked over to Annabeth who was scribbling in her journal; it held all her secrets, tasks and everything. He knew this because he had stolen it once and got judo flipped in return. 

“Do you know anything?” He asked curiously. She looked up to him. “No idea.” She said drily. 

Percy couldn’t tell if she was serious or not. Either way, he had no time to figure it out because Annabeth had pushed open the throne room doors. “Ah, you’re up.” His father said with mirth in his eyes. Percy rolled his eyes like an angsty teenager. 

“No, dad I’m sleepwalking.” He replied. His father turned to his mother. 

“He gets the sass from you.” Poseidon said. 

Sally laughed. “Don’t act like you didn't contribute.” She said in a sing-song voice. Poseidon ignored that. 

“My king and queen.” Annabeth said solemnly, bowing her head

. The entire family rolled their eyes; it was ridiculous that Annabeth still felt as if she needed to bow to them or say your highness. She had practically grown up running around their halls and spoke casually to Percy. Despite all their efforts, she always used royalty manners. Poseidon cleared his throat and looked at Percy.

 “Son.” He said curtly. “Father.” Percy replied with snark; Poseidon stifled a laugh. “You are 18 now. You are an adult-” The king started. Annabeth snorted halfway through muttering, I beg to differ, your highness. Snickering, he continued. “You are going to begin to take more pressing and complex royal duties when you are 25. Starting now as a legal adult, it is important you begin to take on roles for the public to see.” Percy nodded. His parents exchanged a look. “You must find a queen.”

Percy stumbled backwards… what? He needed to what? “Now?” Percy asked in an incredulous manner. He was met with serious nods and stares. “Why now?” He practically whined. 

Percy knew he was being a brat but… they telling him he needed to find the person he’d rule next to, have children with and spend the rest of his life with… now. At age 18! He couldn’t even figure out his favorite movie, much less his permanently future wife. 

“Perseus, you of all people know how difficult it is for power exchanges to occur. Especially for Princesses from outer and different kingdom. They are deliberate and must take time. Lot’s of time, as we must start now. You need a queen. Our subjects must not be led to believe you’re underqualified to be their king.” Poseidon said strictly. He was definitely thinking of the gossiping nobles. 

Percy sighed but nodded. “I get that.” He moped. His father nodded. “But why do I need to find a queen now? I’m not taking the throne for years, I don’t need to have an heir anytime soon.” He protested.

 This time, his mother spoke. “Percy, when you start managing all of your royal duties, you work in tandem with your future queen. It wouldn’t make sense to leave that space blank. A new king and queen won’t be able to handle an entire kingdom. You need to begin your interlocking duties in the next year, so that by the time you ascent; it’s as if you’ve been ruling for years. We can’t just thrust a new queen in the middle of that entire complicated and delicate situation. Your queen will be giving her input on most all of the pressing situations and you’ll have to work on covering each other's biases. You can’t do it all alone.” Sally said with a gentle smile. 

Still Percy frowned. 

“Can’t Annabeth take over the queen’s duties and input for the time being? I don’t want to rush a relationship. She already knows what to do. She knows me well and can cover the biases or my weak areas. The royal overseer already performs duties like this. We can do it until I find a queen.” Percy tried to convince his parents but they shook their heads. 

“No, Percy. That could cause a slew of drama. You’re not going to want that and nor will your future queen.” The king said. 

“She’s my best friend and she’s fit for the role!” Percy objected. 

This time, Annabeth told him to hush. “The future queen must never be a person to be deliberated over. She must be certain. Listen to what your father is saying, there was already an uproar when I became your overseer; I do not want to even imagine the outcome of me taking on queenly duties without taking that title in the future. And more so importantly than gossip… you must marry someone of Royal status. It would be beneficial for our kingdom to have another truce. No royal-blooded Princess would want a husband who has his ‘best friend’ take over her royal duties. Must less, a commoner.” Annabeth said firmly. 

The king nodded in agreement. Percy sighed in defeat. “I don’t like this. But fine. What am I even supposed to do though?” He asked. 

Sally smiled at Annabeth. “Annabeth has lovingly and painstakingly created a plan to help you.” Percy snorted. When did she not have a plan? “She has a list of Princesses from good reputation kingdoms and has invited them to spend a day with you.” Percy sputtered. 

“Whoa so this is like speed dating or something?” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes. “No, you idiot. It’s not speed dating; who do you think I am? Each week, you will meet with one Princess for a day. If you find that you’re extremely compatible with one of them; she will be your queen.” Annabeth explained, shoving her blonde curls behind her ears.

 Percy made a silent O with his mouth. Seaweed brain, she mouthed at him. “I’d say even though it’s rather untraditional; it is a plan that has a high probability of working.” His father said.

 Annabeth nodded. “It was created with Percy in mind, your highness. Which I will admit made it difficult.” She said with a smirk. Percy squawked offendedly. “And we thank you for the plan, Annabeth dear.” His mother said kindly.

 “No one else knows him well enough.” The blonde smiled politely and bowed her head. “That is all. You two can brief on it if you’d like.” Poseidon said. Percy left after telling his parents `I love you` and kissing his mother’s cheek; Annabeth bowed, said `thank you, my king and queen` and followed Percy out the door.

That’s Chapter One! I just had an idea and ran with it. 

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