#sometimes they’ll be so close and yet so far. others they’re just fucking stupid.

[ryuu-from-the-grave]

Things Fox News has said in the past FIVE. FIVE. 5 (FIVE) minutes:

-US has been funding Hamas 80 million per year for years until now, when we are giving them millions

-Iran should be kept bankrupt by force

-good “deterrents” for the Middle East include nuking, bombing into oblivion, and complete destruction of Iran, Palestine, and other middle eastern countries

-that the Middle East (Iran and Palestine) is full of “bullies and cowards”

-“we [the usa] have the most powerful military in the history of human military existence”

-“we are prepared to obliterate the existence of Russia”

Oh and they think Israel and Saudi Arabia have nuclear bombs prepared somewhere. Fan-fucking-tastic.

I am going to kill myself.

#slamming my head against the wall #sometimes they’ll be so close and yet so far. others they’re just fucking stupid. #Fox News #us politics #usa

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

I’m sorry, but can I just go on a little rant about the Louis, clouis, and the Clem comic...? 

I didn’t really talk about Louis in my overall review of the comic because I wanted that to be more contained to the content shown on the pages, Clementine’s relationship with AJ, and her as a character.... but the more I think about these comics and Louis, the more frustrated I become thinking about what Clementine abandoning everyone would do to him. 

[... okay it’s not little anymore since I guess I can never just do anything simple when it comes to Louis, sorry my bad]

So, no surprise, we all know the comic’s bullshit by now. Clementine leaving everything and everyone behind because she’s not happy is dumb, AJ just letting her go is dumb, and Clem going to the mountains on crutches and a peg leg to find this so-called happiness is dumb. 

Now that we’ve established it’s dumb, I wanna talk about Louis because I got a lot of built up feelings about how bullshit this storyline is with how Clementine would not only abandon AJ, but also abandon Louis. 

Because let me tell you..... his heart would be broken beyond repair and I need to talk about why.

Sigh.... so.... muh boy. 

Before he met Clementine, Louis was this laidback, irresponsible, but caring and musical person who kept his head down to avoid conflict and never looked at the future. He was the kind of person who took things one day at a time, saw survival as a day-to-day task, and said that the future doesn’t exist, there’s only today. You get the point, he was never too concerned with things because they always seemed to work out, and if they didn’t, then that sucks and that’s why we should appreciate every day while we have it. 

Louis is shown to be charismatic and friendly, he spends his free time playing piano and card games, but no one really takes him seriously. Not even Marlon, his best friend for 8+ years. While he doesn’t seem to be on bad terms with anyone [including Aasim, they just act like people who disagree with the other’s point of view and have had the same argument many times, but that doesn’t mean they hate each other, y’know?] he also doesn’t appear super close with anyone outside of Marlon and possibly Violet, but even then. 

Marlon’s shown to have little faith in him with the way he talks about if Louis will even show up to hunt. He has a controlling grip on Louis that’s prominent during the confrontation scene when he uses intimidation to try to convince Louis to not interfere. Oh, and there’s the fact that Marlon’s been lying to Louis for the past year about the twins and then continued to lie to his face about what really happened to Brody... which isn’t great when you consider how Louis was the only one who had blind faith in him as a leader and, according to Marlon, was the only one who couldn’t see how pathetic he always was. 

Violet, while having a few more nicer moments with him than Marlon, still invalidates him and his feelings several times throughout the first half of the game which makes me wonder how close they ever were, or at least if Violet ever considered him a close friend to begin with. And no, a small monologue in the dorms doesn’t make everything better or confirm they were brotp the whole time... especially when once they’re on the boat, Louis might as well not exist because Violet can’t be bothered to acknowledge what happened to him or inquire about how he’s doing. I guess she just didn’t have time react while standing in her cell for several unbothered minutes-- no wait, it’s she already reacted off screen. Right. Good writing is good.

What I’m getting at here is that even though Louis is surrounded by people who he genuinely cares about, there is an argument to be made that he’s a lonely person. Hell, he’s aware of his loneliness when he says that no one hears past his music and jokes. I mean, how many nights do you think he spent by himself playing the piano because no one wanted to hear it? Are they like Violet and crack jokes about how he doesn’t have actual talent? Probably, given that someone literally carved “you suck at playing” onto the side of the damn piano. 

Oh, and let’s touch on that backstory of his. Louis grew up wealthy with two parents who loved him and each other, and they gave him anything he wanted except singing lessons. Louis says he wanted to be a real musician. But I guess his father didn’t like that idea and told him no, with the [as Louis puts it] dumb dad lesson of, “You get to be happy, or you get to be rich, can’t be both.” ...which is interesting given that Louis and his family were stupid rich but also.... were they not happy? well, that doesn’t make sense because little Louis knew that if he broke up their marriage, they would be hurt. 

So yeah, Louis was so upset that his father continually refused to let him take singing lessons that he broke into the man’s credit cards and faked an affair, which led to his parents divorcing... and then he spit his father’s words back in his face. 

Then they dumped him at Ericson. And the walkers came. 

There’s so much to unpack from the story he tells that it could be it’s own analysis, but basically.... Louis is aware of why what he did was fucked up, and he carries it with him every day. 

He regrets what he did, chews himself out for being such a “vindictive fuckhead” [and the amount of force used in that line tells you a lot, like how it’s not the first time he’s chastised himself like this] and he admits that he doesn’t even know the person he’s talking about. Yet, he still sees himself as bad, saying that they [I assume the staff] told him and the other kids they’re bad people. I don’t doubt that Louis internalized that which played a huge role in the confidence and self-esteem issues he has during tfs. 

Anyway, I’ll come back to this later, but when you take that amount of guilt and regret, and mix it with the fact that they dropped him off at this school that was supposed to make him better.... then the walkers came and those teachers, staff, and headmaster? Gone. Left a bunch of kids to fend for themselves, with the exception of Ms. Martin [but given how she looks when we find her I doubt she lasted that long] and I cannot imagine how horrifying that was for all of them. The dead are up eating people, and if you die you become one of them... and the people you thought you could rely on just fucking left you to die at this school. 

Every kid in that school has trauma and abandonment issues from before and after the world went to shit, every last one, and Louis isn’t the exception here. Over the years, a lot of kids died and they’ve all seen horrible shit. They all knew they were never going to see their families again, and as far as we know, no one came to get their kids at the beginning. They had to find ways of coping while trying to survive, and all they had left was each other. 

Louis copes with music and games and jokes. He’s built up this persona where it seems like he’s unaffected by the comments the others make, that the death and suffering he’s gone through is in the past, that he is confident and open to those around him.

But then Clementine and AJ show up, and Louis grows close with both of them. They had immediate chemistry upon first meeting, he was the one who looked after AJ since it seems like everyone else saw him as a little terror, and he went out of his way to be kind and make them comfortable. 

When they go hunting with him, Louis and Clementine have a moment after taking care of the walker where they lower their guards a bit-- Louis gives her more in-depth reasons for his views of survival, and going off her expression, it gets to her and makes her think.... but they’ve know each other a day and he’s not quick to infodump his life story or let her in, so he cuts the conversation short.

Then we have the Marlon confrontation scene that I have gone over so many times in the past. I won’t dillydally with it too long but..... Clementine appeals to Louis, who curls in on himself because of the control Marlon has on him. He wants to help, and hell, he knows this is wrong but he’s so used to not getting involved that he gets defensive.... plus, he’s known Clementine for two days, and he’s known Marlon for 8+ years.... he wants to believe Marlon but you can tell he doesn’t want this, either. It takes Clementine talking to him to give him courage to stand between her and Marlon’s gun and it’s a lot.

AJ shoots Marlon and everything goes to shit, and Louis is a goddamn mess. His best friend was murderer right in front of him, so add that to the trauma list, and he’s overwhelmed with all these feelings that again.... they keep getting invalidated by Violet because “Marlon was a liar and murderer, therefore you shouldn’t feel bad about his death. Get over yourself, Louis, you can be such a shithead sometimes.” 

Oh yeah Vi, I guess he should care more about two people he’s known for a total of two days rather than for the safety of the people [including you] he’s grown up with and cared about for 8+ years.... makes sense. 

So yeah, little to no support during this time. Alone again. 

And just because I have to make this clear so no one gets a hair up their ass-- both Louis and Violet are wrong here. Kicking them out isn’t the solution, but neither is acting like AJ was right to commit murder just because it was Marlon.

 But plots gotta plot, so they get voted out and you can see that Louis is conflicted about the whole thing. He wants them gone, but at the same time, he knows what kicking them out means. You can see it on his face that he’s not okay with kicking them out. He’s hurting when he’s there in the dorms telling them how the vote went... he literally doesn’t know what else to do. He just knows that everything hurts, Clem and AJ caused it, and he wants the pain to stop. He even tries to justify it to himself by figuring that they’ve done this before so they’ll be fine. Not a great thing to say, Lou. 

Anyway, we know the story, Clem and AJ come back and Louis once again sees the consequences of acting out of pain.... AJ is shot because Louis was hurt and he made a bad decision that he’s gotta live with.... something that he’s done before, and this affirms to him that he’s bad. He wishes he could take it back, and goes as far as to admit that to Clementine during the archery scene. 

By the way, credit to him for his apology to her. It’s rare in these games that Clem gets a genuine apology from someone who hurt her and doesn’t turn around to repeat the hurtful behavior, y’know? Plus, I can think of plenty of characters who owed Clem an apology in the past or if they did apologize, it was half-assed. 

You can feel how conflicted he is with this whole thing-- learning who Marlon really was and what he did, feeling something for Clementine before everything went down and not knowing how to handle those feelings afterward, caring about AJ and understanding why he thought shooting was the best choice but still hurting that his friend is dead.... 

And the thing is.... Louis forgives her for so much, as she does him, and through all of that bullshit, they manage to develop that strong connection that turns romantic. Louis lets himself be fully vulnerable with her and is honest about his feelings, how she listened when no one else did and seeing him for more than just the persona he put on. 

This works on Clementine’s side, too. Clementine has been through her own fair share of bullshit-- trauma, abandonment, loss, injury, you name it. She’s made mistakes, done terrible things, and has been in enough groups to know that romance usually ends in heartbreak.... and yet, she’s willing to open herself up to Louis and admit she feels a lot for him. 

Is it a little rushed? Yep. Could it have been handled better? Of course, most things this season could’ve, but what we got was pretty good. 

So Clementine and Louis are romantically involved now, the raiders attack, and she saves him... and boy does Louis feel guilty about that one, too. He feels bad enough that he questions why she would pick him because he can’t fathom his life being worth saving over another’s. He doesn’t see himself as useful, and even though Clementine is literally his girlfriend at this point, his self-esteem is so all over the place that he can’t understand why she would have him at her side. 

And when Clementine tells him that he’s too important to her, he’s too baffled to even give a response. He looks at her in disbelief like he wasn’t expecting her to say that.  But this shows that at the beginning of their relationship, he still doubts himself, and through her working with him, he begins to build up that strength in himself. 

He becomes brave enough to share what got him sent to the school with her, and he plays Don’t Be Afraid for everyone at the party and like.... for once, everyone is listening to him. Really listening to him. They’re not talking shit about his musical skills, they’re not ignoring him or the feelings he’s putting into the song, they’re sitting there with him and I just..... if you watch him, you can see that his eyes get pretty glossy throughout the song. The moment meant something to everyone. 

There’s also the fact that Clementine asked him to come with her and AJ onto the boat, and to be the one in charge of the bomb... that’s a huge responsibly and he feels the pressure of that. He starts to panic a bit about if he can do it, because what if he fucks up? What if he gets them caught and makes everything worse? What if something happens to Clementine and he can’t do anything about it? 

She’s there to reassure him that she believes in him, and that he can do this. They’re going to get everyone back, and he needs to focus... then he asks her to slap him which why would you? that’s dumb, so Clementine smooches him instead and like.... he physically relaxes into her because he’s comfortable and trusts her in this situation. 

Also, he loves her and cares about this mission enough to cover himself and his fancy jacket in walker guts.... sure, he complains while doing so but how else is he gonna cope with rubbing rotten guts on himself to blend in with a herd of walkers? 

Skipping ahead so that we’re not here all day, I wanna talk about the walk back to the school because it’s one of the most important clouis moments in the game and a huge reason that solidifies why the comic is bullshit.

Louis went off on his own to go out and find them. He didn’t know where they would be, he just knew that he had to go out and find them after making sure everyone was okay back at the school because he couldn’t bare the thought that he had lost them. And the way the AJ gets so excited to see him? and the group hug??

At this point, Louis has grown so much as a character. With Clementine by his side to support him, he’s grown stronger and more reliable. Remember how he never thought about the future? Well, now he is because his relationship with Clementine has given him a reason to long for a future. He talks about building this imaginary house with her, one he knows they can’t physically build... but it’s his way of saying we can build a home together, that he wants a future with her and AJ and everyone else. It’s such a personal conversation that flows so easy between them. Louis is more comfortable talking to her about things from his past, which is something he didn’t want to do back in ep1. 

He confides in her how he’s feeling after he shot and killed Dorian, he tells her that having a home means protecting it and I just.... it’s so good, okay? And from Clementine’s side, you can feel how at ease she is with him, too. Just the way she smiles at him as they’re walking? like he’s the cutest thing and she’s so happy to have him with her? 

But then we gotta deal with Minerva’s crazy ass on the bridge and well, AJ shoots Tenn and Louis is having flashbacks to Marlon and it’s not great. That’s a whole thing, and he ends up separated from them while escaping.

We don’t get to see Louis’ reaction to Clementine getting bit and losing her leg since I guess that puts a damper on the overly happy ending. But, going off of what we know about him and what I’ve explained [which isn’t even all of it, this isn’t a full Louis character analysis. if it was, it would be much longer and in multiple parts... believe it or not, I’m trying to not make this too long and only sorta failing...] we can get an idea of how he would react. 

Um, to say he was upset is an understatement.

Because remember, he had no time to think and climbed over the fence, thinking he could get them to climb over and they could get away, but it didn’t work. He ended up leaving them in order to save himself since walkers were closing in on him.

But you know that he’d blame himself for the bite. A lot of, “if I had just stayed” and “I should’ve climbed back over, I should’ve stayed with you.” I’m sure there were points where it looked like Clem wouldn’t make it and I can’t imagine how much hurt he went through watching her suffer and heal from losing a leg like that. 

Not only that, but knowing that AJ was the one to do it? And him thinking about what Clem’s death would do to AJ after all this? There isn’t a doubt in my mind that Louis would take care of AJ if she died. He cares about AJ, and he loves Clementine, so he be there for both of them, even if he’s still hurting from Tenn’s death. 

However, Clementine didn’t die. She survived the bite and amputation, and when we flashforward, she and Louis are still happily together. Louis is right there next to her at dinner, and he’s the one to help her with her crutches. He’s there to go over future plans to meet the traveling caravan, and Clementine wants him to be the one to go. 

Oh, and Louis once again forgives AJ for shooting Tenn, claiming that he understands that AJ saw something that he couldn’t. Like with Marlon, he’s not happy Tenn’s dead but he can see why AJ did it to save his life. 

I just..... happy ending. Clementine and Louis are together and she’s truly happy to have found a home for her and AJ with him at Ericson. 

....But then the comic thought it would be fun to say “nah.” 

The comic isn’t canon, I’m still insulted that it would ever consider itself as such, but even so I can’t help but feel so frustrated about how this would destroy Louis. 

He finally found someone he would consider his best friend, not just his girlfriend. She saw past that funny man persona and he trusted her enough to let her past this wall he built around himself. He let himself become vulnerable around her, he named his song after her. Their initials are carved into his piano with a heart surrounding them. He loved her. 

Clementine left him feeling loved, something he probably hasn’t truly felt since he was a little boy with his parents before their divorce. She loved him even after hearing his past because she knew that wasn’t him anymore, and she helped him build the confidence he needed to step up. Because of Clementine, Louis wants to enjoy every day while also looking at the future. He isn’t lonely anymore, he has her and AJ. He’s truly happy.

So to tell me that Louis would wake up one morning only to have AJ tell him that Clementine’s gone, she’ been planning an escape without telling anyone because she wasn’t happy...? I’m sorry, but if you think that wouldn’t leave Louis absolutely devastated, then you know nothing about him as a character. 

This idea is just.... look, Louis is perceptive. That’s a big part of his character, he’s perceptive of those around him. If Clementine was showing signs of being unhappy or depression, he would see it. He would notice a change. He would be able to tell if something was off, and he would ask her about it. Louis is the type of person to ask you what you need. What can he do to help? What do you need to feel better? And if you don’t know, it’s okay, he’ll help you figure it out in any way possible. 

Plus, the comic suggests that there are times where she went off on her own but came back [probably doing her escape prep ugh] and you expect me to believe that Louis wouldn’t notice that or wonder what she’s doing? Wouldn’t sense that something’s going on? 

After she’s gone, he’s going to blame himself for not being enough. He couldn’t make her happy and he was a fool to think he ever could. AJ lost the only family he’s known since he was born because Louis couldn’t help her, couldn’t do anything to stop her from leaving. 

And for him to realize that she didn’t love him? Clementine, the girl he thought the world of because of how strong and confident and in-charge she was, because she saw him for who he was..... she left him, abandoned him... and she couldn’t even be bothered with a goodbye.... that says that she didn’t care all that much about him in the end.

You KNOW that he would think he had this coming, too. How could the universe allow him to fall in love and be happy with someone who loved him back after what he did to his parents? He would feel so heartbroken that he would see this as some sort of karma for breaking up his parents happy marriage as a kid years before he ever met Clementine and before the apocalypse.

I fucking can’t.... I don’t have the words to fully explain how much I hate this. Louis wouldn’t be okay afterward, and I doubt he’d ever fully recover. I wasn’t joking when I mentioned before that Louis would stop playing piano. How could he sit there and play when I he can see is their initials and remember the night she confessed to him? When he named his song after her? Clementine left and took the music with her because Louis wouldn’t have it in him... something that he used to cope would be ruined and that’s just.... it’s fucking awful. 

Not only that, but now he has AJ who I assume is hurting just as much [though the comics inaccurately assume he would just let Clem go sooo... yeah] and he would be the only one Louis would really talk to about it, but then again.... what if AJ doesn’t wanna talk about it? What if AJ starts to act out and things just become terrible and Louis is just too overwhelmed? 

I just.... UGH. That’s how I feel. UGH. 

Clementine from the comic? Not her. She would never fucking do this to Louis, AJ, or anyone else at Ericson, and you would know that if you played the tfs. 

Sigh.... sorry, I just needed to get this all out. I haven’t seen anyone talk about how Clem leaving would affect Louis and I’ve gotten some asks/come across some posts about Louis that have left me incredibly annoyed.... well, I was annoyed before because of the comics, so my annoyances with those things were only heightened. So yeah... I wanted to talk about Louis’ character in hopes of explaining why he would be so hurt if this comic was canon. 

Which it’s not. So it’s fine. 

How are we all feelin’ at this point, by the way? I know I’m not the only one still annoyed with the comic, so I hope y’all are doin’ okay. Hope you’re stayin’ chill and thinking about your faves to help cope with this mess hahaha

#twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg clouis #twdg aj #twdg marlon #twdg violet #clouis #twdg #sometimes i just need to talk about louis okay #one day i'll do a full character analysis that goes over everything #but today isn't that day #long post

[oreoambitions]

46 for agentreign please

Anon I'm sorry this took me a thousand years, but here you go. This gets wildly NSFW after the cut. Enjoy!

/// The first time it happens, Alex figures it's a fluke.

There are, after all, extenuating circumstances. She's not sure how many glasses of wine she's had because every time she turns around Sam has topped her off again, and maybe she should stop indulging but the wine is good and the company is better and this is the first day off off she's had for so long that it's hard not to let go a little. Kara's been keeping the showtunes coming all afternoon, a little louder than her old bluetooth speaker can really handle but it doesn't matter because Spotify is really just an excuse for Kara and Sam to sing at the top of their lungs. Alex is not participating, but she is appreciating. Appreciating because it's nice to see her sister laugh and smile like maybe things are getting better and maybe things are going to be okay. And also appreciating because, well, Sam. It's hard not to appreciate anything and everything Sam.

The activity of the afternoon is ostensibly the production of baked goods for a fundraiser related to Ruby's soccer team. Alex says 'ostensibly' because the reality is that it's been more than three hours and they haven't gotten the first batch of cookies into the oven yet. There's flour all over the floor, and she's pretty sure Kara got butter stuck to ceiling before Sam took the mixer away, but sometimes that's just the cost of a slightly raucous afternoon well spent, isn't it? And they'll have it all done in time anyway. In fact, Sam is just now finishing up the first batch of cookie dough in the confiscated kitchen aid when Alex, perhaps inebriated or perhaps just feeling emboldened by the domestic comfort of the whole affair, lunges for the beater.

This, it turns out, is either a mistake or the best decision she's ever made in her life. Her hand does contact the beater. She does come within a few seconds of pure raw cookie dough bliss. But Sam is faster, and in a flash Alex finds herself pinned between the counter and Sam's hips, one wrist wrapped up in Sam's fingers, the beater now soundly out of reach in Sam's other hand.

"Mine," Sam growls, but her eyes have dropped to Alex's mouth and for one disorienting moment Alex thinks she might be about to kiss her, thinks maybe the word 'mine' has nothing to do with the beater at all, that maybe they've crossed into some alternate dimension where there's a future for her and Sam that doesn't involve a lot of politely smiling and politely never mentioning one another's romantic entanglements or the absence thereof.

And the thing is, Alex thinks to herself, contemplating the heat of Sam's gaze and the fact that she literally cannot move beneath Sam's hips, this is... attractive. This is very attractive, in an immediate and throbbing sort of way that would be frankly embarrassing approximately half a glass of wine earlier in the afternoon. But that can't be right, because Alex doesn't like to be pushed around. Alex is the one who does the pushing. Isn't she? Sam's grip tightens around her wrist and Alex's lips part of their own accord and-

"Oh for heaven's sake," Kara says, snatching the beater out of Sam's hand. "It's mine, because you two are both being ridiculous." She rolls her eyes. "I hate being the only adult in the room."

It was a fluke. That's what Alex thinks to herself later that night when she wakes with a start from a just-dozing-off dream featuring the immovable nature of Sam's hips. They were drinking and it was a long afternoon and everyone was a little wound up and a little giddy and Alex has been single for a long time. That's it. That's all it was. That's all it has to be.

///

It's harder to write it off as a fluke the second time, but she manages.

James is in town and so it's game night. Not their monthly game night as scheduled, but an extra at-the-last-second game night, and Alex is on call. Which is fine. She can count on her fingers the number of times she's had to handle something in the middle of the night while on call for the DEO, and she's not particularly worried. But it's a problem because she can't be drinking, which means she's sober when Sam corners her in the kitchen.

It's been a long night. Not in a bad way. Just in the sense that things have been a little more risque than usual, what with Nia falling over herself trying to make it clear to Brainy that she'd like to sleep with him without actually making it clear, and Lena shooting those long smoldering looks at a characteristically oblivious Kara, and then there's Sam. Alex can't stop looking at Sam in that shirt where it sits a little too tight across the shoulders, can't stop tracing the line of that necklace to the place where it disappears just below her collar, can't stop following the meaningless movement of her fingers as she absently fiddles with a beer that wouldn't have an effect on her even if she drank the whole case. She wonders idly if it's for the aesthetic or if Sam just likes the taste of a craft IPA.

The trouble is that every time Alex catches herself looking at Sam, she also catches Sam looking at her. And so, upon dragging her eyes up once more from Sam's fingers to find Sam staring back at her, eyes dark and expression unreadable, Alex decides it's time for a drink after all. One beer won't hurt, even if the world decides to consider coming to an abrupt conclusion in the next hour or so and it turns out to be her responsibility. It's just that her mouth is suddenly dry, and the room is suddenly too loud, and she needs something to roll between her fingers the way Sam is rolling that IPA back and forth and back and forth and- Yeah. Just one beer will be fine.

She slips into the kitchen while Nia is yelling about how they should all do a TikTok together. It's quieter here, and a cool breeze through the window over the sink raises goosebumps across her arms. She pops the fridge open, pulls a beer at random, leans up against the counter. Maybe she doesn't want a drink after all. Maybe she just needs a minute.

"Aren't you on call, Ms. Danvers?"

Sam. Alex pouts. "What are you, the party police?"

Sam steps up close, takes the beer from Alex without so much as looking at it. "Aren't you the alien invader police?"

That's a dumb line and it doesn't remotely reflect Alex's actual job description, but she laughs anyway. "It's just one beer. Like 4%. I can handle it."

"I know," Sam murmurs.

Alex thinks she's forgotten how to breathe. Sam's eyes are on her mouth and those hips are pressing into her again and when Sam slips one arm around her waist and one hand into her hair a sound comes out of her that might have been a whimper. There's an inevitability to the way Sam leans in, to the way Alex's lips part as Sam tilts her head back with a firm tug. There's a moment of hesitation, a lingering, an opportunity to say no. Instead, Alex whispers, "Please."

Sam obliges. She kisses her slow, languid almost, holds her firm against the counter as she licks into her mouth and Alex is thinking that maybe she's going to come right here just letting Sam kiss her like this when Sam presses a thigh between her legs and she gasps, grinds down hard without meaning to.

Sam chuckles into her mouth, drags one hand around to her throat, traces feather light kisses along her jaw, tugs on her earlobe with her teeth. "Good girl," she whispers.

Alex isn't sure if it's the heat of Sam's breath, or the praise, or the way she's been casually immobilized, but she shudders, and Sam chuckles again, lips against her ear, and that only makes it worse.

"Fuck," Sam says. "If I had my strap with me I'd rail you right here."

Alex is pretty sure that would kill her. She's pretty sure just the thought of it is going to kill her. Just the pad of Sam's thumb dragging across her throat as she kisses her again, just the roll of those hips, that thigh pressing hard into her, that deep ache coiling tighter as Sam pulls back just far enough to meet her eyes and-

"Hey, Nia wants- Oh!" Lena stops short just inside the kitchen door. "I'll just." She plucks a bottle of wine from the counter. "Take this and tell her that you've uhm. That you're busy."

"We'll be right there," Sam says. She straightens Alex's shirt with a tug and a smirk. "Wouldn't want to miss the TikTok dance."

"Nope," Alex chokes out. "Wouldn't want to miss that."

It's a fluke. Alex takes a long shower when she gets home, and she takes care of the lingering ache that's now outlived not one but two TikTok dances, and she thinks about texting Sam. She falls asleep with her phone in her hand and if she has dreams about a tall, handsome, strong woman railing her against a kitchen counter, well. That happens sometimes. Could happen to anyone. Doesn't mean anything except that Alex has been single for probably too long . She downloads Hinge in the morning and considers explicitly mentioning in her bio that she's the one who wears the strap.

///

The Hinge profile lasts about three days. Alex scrolls through a ridiculous number of women, all of whom are... fine, before she comes to the conclusion that the problem is that none of them are Sam. She's sitting on this stupid app pedaling her stupid profile and all she wants is the woman whose attention prompted her to download a dating app in the first place. And she can't want Sam because it would never work. They're fundamentally incompatible. This bedroom ain't big enough for two tops. It's not going to happen.

But the words if I had my strap with me I'd rail you right here are as stuck in Alex's head as that Lady Gaga song Brainy won't stop playing over the speakers at the DEO. She can't stop thinking about it. Picturing it, even. Dreaming about it when her mind should be anywhere else, on anything else. And she'd just avoid Sam, just look the other way until her hormones sort themselves out, except that Sam is virtually impossible to avoid.

Kara doesn't make it any easier when she calls on Friday night to ask her about a movie night at Sam's apartment.

"Ruby's on a school trip, so it'll be just the four of us," Kara says over the phone. "I'll bring snacks, and we can order whatever you want for dinner. Please? Lena's never seen Star Wars; we have to do something."

Alex doesn't know how to say no. No, I won't come to what feels suspiciously like a double date movie night at Sam's apartment, because Sam's strap is at Sam's apartment, and I'm not sure that she isn't going to try to fuck me on the bathroom floor, and furthermore, I'm not sure that I don't want her to. Instead she says, "Any Star Wars? That's a crime. Which movie are we starting with?"

It's probably a safe bet anyway. Kara and Lena will be there the whole time; Alex and Sam will never be alone. All Alex has to do is make sure that she leaves when everyone else does and they can avoid the awkwardness altogether, and no that is definitely not anticipation she's feeling in the pit of her stomach, and she certainly does not spend an extra half an hour in bed on Saturday morning keeping herself busy with the thought of offering to stay and help clean up, of finding herself pinned against the refrigerator door while Sam takes her from behind. That absolutely does not happen because that would be ridiculous, undignified, untoplike behavior.

Alex is certainly feeling ridiculous, undignified, and untoplike standing outside Sam's door that evening, anxiously smoothing out her shirt with one hand, a case of that IPA from game night in the other. She's arrived a carefully calculated fifteen minutes late just to be absolutely sure Kara and Lena will get here first, but she didn't spot Kara's car outside, and so she isn't particularly surprised when Sam opens the door with a warm smile and welcomes her into an empty apartment.

"Kara and Lena?" she asks as Sam takes the proffered beer.

"Lena got held up at the office," Sam replies, already disappearing into the kitchen. "They're running late. An hour or so. Told them we'd wait. Do you prefer an IPA or a lager? I don't have any stouts in the fridge right now. Might be a decent sour in here somewhere."

Alex lingers in the entryway, that not-anticipation feeling thrumming through her veins. She could follow Sam to the kitchen. Kitchens do seem to be their Thing. But Sam returns with two lagers, her question unanswered, and nods her head towards the living room.

Well, now they're alone together after all and Alex is feeling awkward. She settles onto one end of the couch and tries not to read into it when Sam deposits the lagers on the coffee table and settles in next to her, legs folded under her, almost too close, instead of occupying the perfectly good cushion on the other end.

"Sam," Alex tries. They should talk about this. "We should talk about this."

"Hmm." A hint of a smirk flickers across soft lips before Sam schools her expression. "Talk about what, exactly?"

If Alex had bothered to rehearse this conversation in her mind, she still wouldn't have imagined it going this way. Her eyes drop to Sam's mouth and then she struggles to look elsewhere. The records on the shelf under the window. The blank television screen.

"I-" she starts, but the words don't want to come out. The lager on the coffee table. She doesn't reach for it. "I can't stop thinking about game night," she forces out, and then she looks back up at Sam to gauge her reaction.

Sam is smirking openly now, a hint of laughter in her eyes. She reaches out to tangle long fingers in the hair at Alex's nape, the same grip she used to pull her into a kiss just last week, and Alex's arousal is embarrassingly immediate. "Really?" Sam asks. "Game night, huh? You want to know what I can't stop thinking about?"

It's Alex's gaze that drops first, to Sam's mouth again, and this time she can't look away. "What?"

"Tonight," Sam replies, close enough that Alex's eyes flutter closed, close enough that she can almost feel Sam's answer on her lips. There's probably a coy response for this somewhere in the lesbian handbook but Alex is reaching and coming up empty. She presses a soft kiss to Sam's mouth instead and feels that anticipation - there's no denying now that it's anticipation - thrum again when Sam's tongue immediately presses into her, hot and demanding.

"What's so special about tonight," Alex mumbles as Sam kisses along her jaw to her neck.

"Mmm." Sam nips hard against Alex's pulse point, smiles into her skin when she gasps. "Well, that depends."

"On what?"

"Take your shirt off."

Alex hesitates. That isn't remotely the answer to her question, but now Sam is sucking on her neck and her capacity for rational thought is rapidly diminishing. She fumbles with the first shirt button, fingers trembling, and then the second. Three undone is enough for Sam to pull the offending garment over her head. The sports bra follows, and then Sam is tugging on Alex's hips to reposition her so that she's lying back on the couch, and Alex suddenly understands what everyone finds so attractive about kryptonians, because it's effortless the way Sam moves her. She has about a half second to be transfixed by the abs peeking out from under Sam's own blouse before Sam is kissing down her collarbone and over her breast, chuckling when Alex's hips jerk underneath her.

"You know," Sam says, "I was expecting more of a fight out of Alex But-I'm-A-Top Danvers."

Alex opens her mouth to let out a retort but Sam's tongue is working a circle around her nipple and rational thought is once again threatening to fail. "Is that what you want?" She manages, struggling to sit up. "You want a fight?"

"No." Sam pushes her back again, pins her arms over her head with one hand, brushes the fingers of the other across her ribs, frowns. "No, I like you better like this."

Alex flushes and has to remind herself not to squirm, not to look away as Sam studies her in silence, drops kisses across her shoulders, traces the lines of her hip and the inside of her thigh. And then Sam reaches under the couch for a box, the implications of which are momentarily as immobilizing as the hand still holding Alex's wrists down, because Sam planned for this, planned far enough in advance to stash supplies where they might be convenient.

Alex swallows hard when Sam's pants exit the scenario, and Sam's eyes flicker over her face as she opens the box.

"How do you feel about being strapped on the couch?" she asks.

It's such a blunt question that Alex flushes again. "Uhm. Okay?"

Sam stops with her harness halfway out. "Just okay? I'm gonna need a clear yes or-"

"Yes. God. Yes please," Alex says, flushing an even darker shade. She's going to let... this... happen, but she's not going to beg. Christ. Consent granted; please let's move on before things get awkward. Sam chuckles a little at her discomfort and presses a kiss to her brow.

"Okay. But if you want me to stop you just say the word."

Alex nods, not trusting herself to speak, eyeing Sam's fingers where they're tightening the harness. And then all at once she blurts out, "Kara and Lena could be here at any moment," which she hadn't realized might be a concern until it came out of her mouth but now she can't stop thinking about it, and how embarrassing that would be, and Kara can see through walls for heaven's sake, and-

Sam chuckles. "Baby," she says, sliding herself between Alex's legs, "You're not going to last long enough to be worried about that."

Sam is embarrassingly, excruciatingly not wrong. By the time the strap is working into her Alex is pretty sure she's wound tighter than she's ever been, and she'd crack some kind of joke about how it's clearly been too long since she's had anyone inside of her but this is really not the time. Sam is pressing inexorably deeper and it's all she can do to hold her breath because otherwise she's going to come altogether undone before they've even gotten started.

Sam gives her a moment when she's all inside, waits for Alex to exhale, waits for her nod before she starts to rock her hips, and the drag of the strap is so intense that Alex loses her breath and her self control in the same instant with a groan that only deepens Sam's smirk. Alex is kind of wishing Sam would give her back the use of her hands, but that's not in the cards. She squirms instead, hips bucking of their own accord, head thrown back hard against the cushion of the couch.

"Thought about this every night," Sam murmurs, and Alex thinks she'll say since game night but she says, "Since the day I met you," which is almost as mindblowing as the pleasure somehow, incredibly, continuing to build between Alex's hips. "Thought about how good you'd be under me."

Alex shivers at that and then comes, bucking hard into Sam to take as much of the strap as she can, half aware of Sam whispering something in her ear that might have been what a good girl you are if Alex had been cognizant enough to comprehend it. She comes back down to soft kisses across her face, and when Sam lets go of her wrists she wraps her arms around her and tries to remember how to breathe, how to pull all the pieces of herself back together, how to be a competent and capable, dignified and toplike partner.

Alex runs a hand absently through Sam's hair and hums. "Do you want me to return the favor?" she asks. She doesn't have a strap with her but, well, it's not like that was ever the best trick up her sleeve anyway. She opens her mouth to make a quip about how a good top is always prepared but Sam reaches out and casually tips an untouched lager onto her discarded shirt.

Alex splutters.

"Too late," Sam says brightly. "You'll have to ask me after dinner. Lena and Kara are here."

"Lena and Kara are what-"

And there's the knock at the door. The door not ten paces from where Alex is lying in a state of naked disarray on the couch where they are supposed to be watching Star Wars. There is a moment of absolute stillness before Alex begins to scramble for her clothes.

"Bedroom is the second door on the left," Sam says, sneaking in a last kiss while Alex reaches for the underpants peeking out from under the coffee table. "Clean shirts in closet. Do pick something nice; I've been dying to see you in my clothes."

Alex scurries down the hall in her socks quietly cursing and thanking every star in the sky. It's going to be a long night. If she's lucky.

#Alex Danvers #Sam Arias #agentreign #Ask Pile

[seiyasabi]

The Scientist

(Hange (Hanji) can rearrange by guts tbh :P Lol, anyways, this is a Yandere Hanji x Female Reader story! It takes place in current time tho (same universe as Yelena). Also, idgaf how tall the creator says Hanji is. In this fic, even the tall girlies get to be shorter than Hanji. 

TW: kidnapping!, !drugging!, unwanted advances, stalking!, etc! 

Please proceed with caution! Also, I’m sorry if you can tell that this was in my drafts for a hot min. I started to write this when I first started this blog, and I just finished/revised it lol. ) 

“Hey, (Nickname!” Hearing the loud shout of a certain brunet, you jump about a foot in the air. As usual, Hanji decides to surprise you whilst you’re in the middle of something. 

Pulling away from the microscope you’re currently looking at, you put on a strained smile, “Yes?” 

Their one eye sparkles in a hopeful fashion from behind their glasses, one of her their fiddling with their eyepatch, “Sooo,” They draw out the o, seemingly trying to disarm you, “Are you free this weekend? There’s this suuuuper cool bar that’s just opening, and me and the others are thinking about going! It’s totally not a date or anything,” They pause to let out a loud laugh, “I think it’ll be fun! What D'ya say?” 

Forcing out a chuckle, you shake your head, “Ah, I’m sorry, Hanji, but I’m busy this weekend. I have a lot of samples I need to process for that upcoming court case,” You chew your bottom lip nervously, “I’m sorry. I hope you and the others have a good time, though!” 

A new voice is heard, butting into your conversation, “I can do those! I’ve been needing more hours, anyways,” Whipping your head in the direction of the voice, you silently curse. Fuck Armin for being so helpful! 

Hanji beams even brighter than before, clapping their hands together happily, “See! Armin can do that for you!” They lean in closer to you, their lab coat brushing against yours, “Come on, (Nickname), I’d be reaaaaally happy if you go!” 

An uneasy feeling pools in your gut, as an anxious sweat begins to bead at your brow, “I-uhm-I suppose I can go for an hour or two.”

“Great!” They grab your hands in theirs, squeezing them in a friendly manner, “The bar is called ‘Titan’s Wrath,’ and we’re meeting at eight on Saturday!” Releasing you, they pat you on the back, “See you later!” They run off, most likely back to the dry lab. 

After a moment of silence, you slowly turn towards the short haired blond man, “Armin, I’m going to kill you.”

He blanches at your blunt tone, flushing a bright red, “Wha-what?” 

You grit your teeth, tears starting to bead your eyes in frustration, “They’re the person I was telling you about! Hanji constantly harasses me, and you practically just tossed me into their arms! Why would you do that?” 

A look of pure terror and remorse appears of his face, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t realise that they were the person-oh my God, I’m so stupid. I-I really didn’t know! I’m so, so sorry!” You let out a quivering breath, hands clenched into fists to calm you down. 

“It-it’s alright. I never really told you who they were. Just never do that again, okay? If you need more hours, just tell me, and I’ll see what I can do,” The younger man sighs in relief, shoulders deflating. 

“I promise to never do that again!” You nod, blinking away your unshed tears, and smile at him. 

“Okay, then we don’t have any problems,” You laugh lightly, shaking your head, “Who would’ve thought our newest intern was the dry lab’s wing man?” He panics again, making you cackle good-naturedly, “Now, can you please grab the dilluter? I forgot to grab it from the fridge.”

-

Hanji, being the ever cheerful person that they are, set their sights on you the moment you were hired. 

But, if they came out with their feelings immediately, you’d just assume that they wanted to take advantage of you. 

So, they watched you. Writing down your likes and dislikes, your quirks, everything. Through their ‘research,’ they came to realise that you’re very good at your job. The wet-lab should be lucky that they have you… but they never give you the recognition you deserve! 

They bombard you with assignments, become upset when you don’t finish them in seconds (which is so unreasonable!), and hardly give you any time off! 

You don’t seem to mind, being the good girl you are, but Hanji sure does! 

So, they’d seek out the top graduates from the college nearby, and help them become employed at the lab. The newbies really helped get the load off of your shoulders, and once done, they decided to swoop in now that you had a decent amount of free time. 

It started at the vending machine- they’d asked you if you wanted to get coffee with them sometime. You said no, probably because you felt it wasn’t professional. After all, rumours would spread like wildfire if you went out with the lead lab tech of the dry lab! 

So, everytime they knew you had a weekend off, they’d approach you with new places to try. 

Be it a movie, a store, a concert- it didn’t matter. They just desperately wanted to have some time with you! 

But, you reacted the complete opposite of how you were supposed to. 

You’d pick up as many shifts as possible, most times going into over time, just to avoid the flamboyant lead. Whenever you saw them in the hall or by the break room, you’d turn in the complete opposite direction. If wet-lab needed to correspond with the dry-lab, you’d send your most qualified coworker to do so. 

It was saddening, to be honest. They love you so much, yet you refuse to even face them. 

But, thanks to that Armin kid, their plans can finally bloom into fruition. For once, you can’t escape the brunet’s advances! 

Because of that, Hanji made a note to the owner of the lab that Armin would make a good contribution to the lab after he gets all of his qualifications. 

-

Saturday night comes far too soon. 

Dressed in black skinny jeans and a cropped, white long sleeve, you stand in front of ‘Titans Wrath.’ Scoffing at how the bar sounds like a metal band, you make your way inside. 

Grabbing the door handle, you yank it open, immediately hearing loud rock music. Mentally patting yourself on the back for your observation, you step inside of the cool building. 

Looking inside, you see a large, double sided bar in the middle of the room, a stage and standing area just behind it. There are a few pool tables in the front area where you’re standing, along with double doors leading to a hidden kitchen. 

There’s also a lot of people inside. You can’t see Hanji or their friends, but seeing a band setting up on the stage tells you that they’re probably on the other side of the bar. 

Walking over to the steps leading down into the stage area, you try to ignore the leers of a few men around you. Maybe you shouldn’t have worn clothes that accentuate your beautiful figure. Peering around the corner, you see the scientist and their friends, an empty seat in between them and a large blond man, that you vaguely recall being the police chief of your city. 

Strolling towards them halfheartedly, you give yourself a small peptalk inside of your mind. Sure, Hanji has always been touchy-feely with you, sure, they’ve asked you out about one hundred times, sure, you run into them every time you leave the house, sure- 

“(Nickname)! You actually came!” The brunet’s voice is loud, loud enough to cut through the loud music and equally loud chatter. Forcing a smile onto your face, you give a small wave, suddenly uncomfortable with the line of strangers at the bar suddenly looking at you. 

“Yes, hello, Hanji,” When you’re close enough, you’re thrown into a tight embrace, their body practically molding into your own. They’re about a head taller than you, making it so your head is practically forced against their protruding collarbones. Hesitating slightly, you give them a soft pat on the back, trying to escape their suffocating embrace. 

“I’m so glad you came!” They release you just as suddenly as they grabbed you, putting a hand on the small of your back, and practically forcing you in between the blond man and themself, “(Nickname), this is Erwin. Erwin, this is (First Name).”

His blue eyes rake over your appearance, recognition appearing on his face, “It’s nice to see you again, Ms. (Last Name), especially under better circumstances.” 

You nod, thinking back on some high profile cases you met with him for, “Yes, it’s nice to see you again, Mr. Smith.” 

A loud scoff is heard from beside Erwin, the head of a short, dark haired man peeks around the broad chested man, “It’s about time you brought a respectful brat,” You have to stop yourself from flinching at his harsh tone, “I am Levi,” Opening your mouth to introduce yourself, he holds up a hand, halting you, “There’s no need for introductions, Shitty-glasses has gushed about the ‘pretty wet-lab scientist’ for months now.” 

“Oh, alright. It’s nice to meet you,” His lifts his whiskey on rocks in acknowledgement, before downing it with one swig. 

“Likewise,” After that, he turns towards a light brown haired woman, her high pitched voice is heard from where you’re sitting. 

“I’m sorry about that. The detective is very… unsociable.” 

“It’s alright, Mr. Smith. He kind of reminds me of one of my interns, Annie,” You say with a small smile, before your swiveling bar stool is forced around so you’re facing Hanji. 

“Sooo, you like the bar so far?” Their smile is somewhat pleading, and you can’t help but just go along with them. 

“Yes, this place is, um, cool. Very interesting choice,” They clasp their hands together with a pleased expression, as they somehow move closer to you than they already are. At this point, you’re worried that they’ll fall off their stool. 

“Right? Our residential emo boy found it, and we’ve been hooked ever since,” A loud ‘Shut up, Shitty-glasses,’ is heard from behind you, making the brunet laugh, “Let me order you a drink! I think there’s something that you’ll really like!” 

Opening your mouth to reject, it was seemingly too late, because the brunet has already waved over a punk-ed out bartender. You didn’t really hear what the drink is called, but the man sets to work immediately. 

It barely takes a minute for it to be finished, and the purple drink is suddenly in front of your motionless form. Looking up, the purple haired man winks at you, before turning his attention back to a speaking Hanji. 

“Anything she orders, put it on my tab,” He nods, before walking off to service another customer. 

Turning your attention back to Hanji, you try to persuade them to let you pay, “Thanks, Hanji, but it’s alright. I can pay for my own drinks-”

“Don’t worry about it; I asked you out, remember? And it’s the least I can do for harassing you for the past few months,” Startled by their uncharacteristically somber words, you nod in understanding. 

“Alright. Thank you,” They nod, before motioning towards your drink. 

“Try it! I’m sure you’ll like it!” Grabbing the cool glass cup, you bring it up to your lips, and take a small sip. It’s amazing. It tastes like (favourite flavour), and it goes down smooth. 

“You’re right, this is delicious!” They grin brightly, clapping their hands together in glee. 

“Great!” They motion towards the stage with their head, “The show’s about to start! Are you ready for a kickass night?” You laugh at their vigour, and nod. 

“You bet!” 

Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all. 

-

You spoke too soon. 

It seems like you’ve drank too much, because you’re now feeling dizzy. Throughout the set, you’d ordered about five more drinks, and they seemingly hit you all at once. 

Hanji, who’s been watching you since your fourth drink, feigns shock at your unstable form. That Rohypnol they grabbed from work works quite well! Now they can see why it’s the choice drug for those awful, awful people. 

“Whoa there, (Nickname), it seems you’ve had too much to drink!” Hanji jokes, hands holding you steady on your bar stool. The only person from your group still at the bar is Erwin, but he knows they have it under control. As chief of police, he feels a bit of remorse, but he knows it's for the best. Hanji will take care of you, because, after all, you’re their only true obsession. 

“Wha-huh? Was’ happenin?” Hanji can all but coo at how cute you are. 

“Don’t worry, cutie. I’ll get you home safe,” Helping you to your boot clad feet, they send a knowing look to Erwin, who smiles in return. Wrapping an arm around your waist, they help you stumble out of the bar, and walk towards their car. Once at the passenger side, the brunet unlocks the door, and assists you inside. You flop onto their leather interior, eyes unfocused, and body movements random. Chuckling to themself, they buckle you in, not before pulling on gloves, and taking your phone, keys, and wallet off of you. 

Taking these items, they empty your wallet of its cash, and chuck everything into a nearby bush. Knowing that the cameras outside the building and the buildings surrounding the place are off, they feel at ease. If anything, they feel like your knight in shining armour. If they hadn’t taken you, someone else would’ve-you’re just too cute. 

Closing your door, and rounding the car, they slide into the driver’s side, before starting the car. Buckling themself in, they look at your out-of-it form, and smile. 

#yandere hange #hange zoe #yandere hange zoe #yandere aot #yandere aot x reader #hange x reader #hange supremacy #yandere attack on titan #attack on titan x reader

[shorkbrian]

What's Deku like when he gets jealous?

Prelude - This is just an excuse for me to write subby(-ish), angry baby boy with a mommy kink, sorry. Want to put a little reminder here that this is fiction, and it’s depicting a bad relationship

Seriously you guys, I feel like I need to reiterate that a relationship like this isn’t healthy. Your partner should not cling to you 24/7, they should not try and manipulate your feelings. They can communicate their feelings in such a way (Baby, I’m feeling a little lonely right now, would you be up for some cuddling?) that doesn’t force you into rushing to assure them that you still love them because otherwise they’ll have a complete breakdown. I feel like this fic is an example of some unhealthy codependency stuff. I don’t condone this stuff, it’s not good, it’s very unhealthy. 

Pls, pls, if you feel like your relationship might be bordering into something where you feel pressured to cater to your partner in ways you’re uncomfortable with out of fear that they’ll have a breakdown, talk to someone. Anyone. A therapist, a friend, a trusted adult, anyone. This is fiction, and it isn’t healthy, nor good

Pairing - Izuku Midoriya X Reader

Warnings - NSFW, unhealthy relationship, dubcon, co-dependency. 

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/2hfoyc7ve6xM4ZEiNIiU1B?si=w7PXedqHQPqUFPQTDcEYuA

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Needy

When Izuku sees another man talking to his girlfriend (it could be anyone, a store clerk, your coworker, the guy delivering pizza, your brother for christsake) he gets so incredibly needy. 

Pulling at your clothes, whining when you have to leave for work in the morning, clinging to you like a child and refusing to let go.

He makes you late for work sometimes, working himself up when he wakes up in bed to find you getting ready in the bathroom, stumbling to your side and draping his arms around you before begging you not to leave. Acts like a petulant baby while you try to make coffee, grabbing your mug and putting it somewhere out of reach with a frown (if you can’t make coffee, you can’t leave. he knows that’s not how it works but he doesn’t want you to go, Izuku’s willing to try anything to get you to stay), his eyes so hurt and upset when all you do is huff and grab another mug from the cupboard.

Izuku holds you too close when he gets jealous, almost crushing you in his grip when he comes up and hugs you while you’re paying the delivery guy, glaring over your shoulder to make it clear that you’re his. When you’re talking to your brother, Izuku clings to your hand, pulls you into his lap, tries to touch (sometimes inappropriately) so much that you find yourself annoyed with him, batting him away so you can have a conversation with your brother.

And that hurts Izuku even more, feeds the flames of his jealousy until they’re an all-consuming fire of bitterness and insecurity.

The man is sure to swing by your office on his lunch breaks, bringing you your favorite foods to show you how good he is to you, even sitting and eating with you like a good boyfriend. He makes sure to be overly affectionate, holding up his chopsticks to your mouth, cooing at you to open so he can feed you, giving you a peck on this lips after you take a bite. If he finishes his own food before you do, Izuku spends the rest of lunch kissing at your neck, occasionally stopping to rest his head against your shoulder like a sleepy toddler. 

One time, your coworker had passed by the break room, and made eye contact with you while Izuku was trying to suck at your neck with his arms wrapped around your shoulders. It made you blush so hard, and you couldn’t talk to that coworker for at least a week. Obviously, that’s always Izuku’s goal with such overt PDA whenever he stops by your office.

It’s hard not to get short with him, shrug him off or let you irritation show in your voice when you tell him to give you some space. Izuku takes that personally, somehow wiggles himself even closer while pouting and trying to make excuses for why he needs to be in your space.

When you do snap, raising your voice a bit at your boyfriend and telling him you’d like to watch the movie alone, Izuku rears back from your body, eyes wide and breathing hard, as if you’d physically struck him. You don’t feel guilty though, he’s been hounding you all week, never giving you room to breathe, initiating sex every single night just so you can feed his craving for your touch.

He leaves the bedroom, sulks off to the living room with his tail between his legs, letting you finally take a breath.

You only finish an episode or two before his back, clutching at his sleeves, tears in his eyes, sniffling and looking so small. He’s past 6′, a full grown man, and yet he’s shrinking in on himself so much that he looks far shorter than you.

“Are you mad at me?” 

And of course you aren’t, not really. But you’re a full grown adult, and it’s not healthy for Izuku to be so dependent on you, so clingy and needy and possessive.

“I’m not mad Izuku, I just wanted some space.” You sigh.

“You’re ignoring me.” And his tears hit full force, bubbling over and running down his cheeks, and your heart drops.

He’s manipulating you, always does. You’re not stupid, you know this isn’t a good relationship - Izuku’s dependent and jealous of anyone who isn’t him, and you enable that behavior, don’t do enough to curb it. But he’s a full grown man, you aren’t his mom. 

Izuku doesn’t agree.

“’M sorry mommy, I just want to be close to you... please don’t make me leave.” And he looks so pathetic, so desolate standing there in the doorway, cheeks wet and red from crying.

A beat passes while you war with yourself.

But you can’t ever seem to uphold your own boundaries.

“C’mere, it’s okay.”

And he’s by your side in a flash, climbing onto the bed, face-planting into your chest, his hands desperately petting at your neck and hair as if he’s trying to soothe himself. It’s an awkward position, but it’s one that he’s comfortable with. you know trying to encourage him to put his face anywhere else would result in a giant fit.

He’s crying heavily, tears soaking your shirt, mumbling about how he’s sorry, how he needs you, how you’re making him sad and feel so unloved.

You feel a little bit guilty, even though you know you shouldn’t 

Stroking his hair, you making shushing sounds, trying to calm him. “Shhh shhh shh, it’s okay Izu. I love you, you’re okay.”

“But I’m not!” He cries, head lifting, fixing you with a pouty glare. His eyes are puffy and red, he’s biting his lip, and he looks like a man again, angry at you. “You’re getting tired of me and you don’t want to date me anymore.” Izuku’s lip wobbles, and then he’s burying his face back into your chest unhappily.

“Izu... no baby...” You start. “I love you so much, I’m not breaking up with you.”

Although, maybe you should. 

The man shakes his head, and you want to huff at his childish display, but you know he’s sensitive, know he’s a bit more emotional than most, always has been.

“You don’t love me. You keep talking to other guys, and you won’t spend time with me anymore. You don’t even want to have sex with me, I know you don’t, I can tell.” He accuses.

That’s not the truth at all, and part of you knows it. He’s good at fucking you, knows how to play your body like the most treasured instrument. Izuku’s so enthusiastic, so eager to please, going down on you with determination to make you writhe and scream on his tongue. When you pull him away, he’s blushing, panting, almost dizzy from the rush of making you cum.. 

“Tell me it feels good. Did I do it right? Did I make you cum?” and you’re nodding your head, pussy still pulsing lazily from the aftershocks.

He always grinds himself against the bed, and it must feel good because by the time he pushes inside, he’s barely able to stop himself from cumming at the oversensitive squeeze of your cunt.

But he always makes sure to make you cum one last time before he finds his own release.

And it’s not true that you won’t spend time with him, or that you’re always talking to other guys. You hardly talk to anyone anymore, Izuku even finding problems with your female friends (”They aren’t good for you, I bet they’re talking about you behind your back. I mean, look how easily they talk about that one girl when she's not hanging out with you all.”)

“Izuku, you’re being a dumb baby, get up here.” Sometimes the only way to shut up his insecurities is to take control, so you do. Tugging on his hair until he pushes upward, you find his mouth, kissing him deep.

When you pull away, eyes closed, lips warm from how intently Izuku kissed you back, you can feel your boyfriend hovering, mere inches away from your face.

“Show me you love me. I want.... I want you to show me mommy. Make me feel loved, please?”

Ah, so that’s how he wants you.

When he gets angry, upset with you, Izuku resorts to name calling. not the vicious, cruel, bullying kind. No, he calls you mommy, expects you to take care of him, make him feel good and shower him in love ‘til he cries, until he doesn’t have to doubt you.

You always do whenever he calls you mommy. There’s an underlying threat whenever he insists on the dynamic, a simmering malice that you can barely pick up on. A little bit of you is... almost afraid. But if you’re quick to adapt to the role he wants you to play, as you always are, nothing comes of that hint of hostility hiding beneath his cry-baby cover-up.

“Turn over then baby.” You tell him, pushing at his chest.

He does so easily, watching with wide eyes as you rise to your knees, beginning to strip seductively, starting with your shirt.

“Keep your eyes on mommy, want you to watch.”

“Okay.” He breathes, a hand falling to his crotch, squeezing at the quickly-developing bulge there.

You allow it for now, more focused on swinging your hips, bringing your shirt over your head sexily, letting it mess up your hair as you tug it off before throwing it off the bed. 

Shimmying your bottoms down, you leave your panties on, shifting to lean against one hip to pull your bottoms the rest of the way off, pointing your toes as you bring them past your feet.

Izuku’s eyes follow the garment, before flicking back to your panties.

They’re nothing special, just simple cotton underwear that keeps you covered, but Izuku thinks you look hot in everything, anything.

“Mommy... want you bad. ‘M hard, please-please fix it.” He whines, bucking his hips up into his hand.

You swat at his hand, and he yelps a little before looking at you with confusion.

“No touching, only mommy gets to do that.”

Izuku nods so quickly his neck pops, which makes you smile a bit. When he’s not being needy or clingy, he’s cute. It’s what drew you to him in the first place, what reeled you in.

You start by running a hand over his clothed chest, dragging fingertips over his nipples, watching as your boyfriend puts his hands above his head and lays back, eyes fixed on you.

Hands hook around the waistband of his sweatpants, beginning to slowly drag them off his body. You press them down hard over his bulge, and your boyfriend stutters out a breath.

His shirt gets pushed up to his face, where you hold it above his mouth.

“Open up baby boy.”

He opens his mouth, and you stuff the hem in, telling him to bite down. He does.

You duck down a bit to lick at his chest, laving over his nipples with the flat of your tongue just to feel the man jump a little, arching his back to press his chest further into your mouth.

But you were only here to tease, so you pulled away , running a hand down his abdomen so you could trace a finger up his hard cock.

It was easy to get him worked up, tapping two fingers against his shaft, lightly giving his balls a squeeze, scratching at his thighs with your nails.

Izuku was getting his shirt wet, whining around the fabric, bucking his hips into you touch, trying to entice you to stroke his entire shaft instead of teasing.

You quickly put a stop to that with a hand pressing down against his hipbone, pinching the skin there to make it clear that you didn’t want him to move.

Teasing a bit more, you leaned down, blowing cool air across the tip of his cock to watch the man jump, eyes flying open at the sensation. When you did it again, following the movement with attaching your mouth around the head and suckling, Izuku’s eyes rolled back in his head, toes curling.

He was moaning behind his shirt, trying to say something, but you were too preoccupied with digging your tongue into the slit, slurping at his cock like it was a piece of candy.

Your hand finally closed around his length, giving him a light, quick stroke before letting go, popping your mouth off his cock to lick at the sides, closing your mouth over the tender, barely-there veins and giving them a quick suck.

Izuku choked out a loud moan, and you looked up to find him staring at you, pupils dilated, breathing hard through his nose.

He was wanting you to hurry up.

Even though you were supposed to be in charge right now, Izuku still held the power.

You gripped his shaft again, rubbing the velvety skin between your fingers and palm, before slowly beginning to jerk him off. It was too dry, too rough though, and you know Izuku wasn't fond of that, so you stopped a moment to gather spit in your mouth.

“Izu, watch baby.” You told him, making sure he was looking down at you before you opened your mouth, letting your saliva slowly drool out and onto his cock.

The man looked like he was going to burst.

You did that a couple more times, telling your boyfriend to watch each time.

Now thoroughly wet, you gripped him tight again, resuming your leisurely pace.

“Izu baby, if you want to cum you gotta ask.” You say gently, hand speeding up around his length.

Izuku groans, throwing his head back onto the pillows, letting the wet hem of his shirt fall from his mouth. “Can I... can I cum mommy? Please? I-I need to cum.”

You stay quiet, wanting to push him a little more, hand barely moving around his cock, but your grip tight and slick.

His face is all red now, the tears from earlier dry on his cheeks. “Oh mommy, please let me cum, you feel so good. ‘M so clo-se! Please, please-”

Twisting your hand around the tip before letting go, you watch his cock bob, twitching, so red and hot. The veins on the underside are pulsing, Izuku’s balls drawing up, his stomach tensing as he struggle to hold back, struggles to be a good boy.

You know he loves this - loves when you make him wait, when you make him beg.

“You don’t sound like you really want it ‘Zuzu, I don’t know if I should let you.” You’d learned over time what he wanted when he got like this, what you were supposed to do to make him happy.

Izuku wanted you to be a bit mean, to tease and tease and not let him cum.

He let out a wail, squirming against the sheets, hands still obediently above his head, although they opened and closed shakily as if he wanted to grab onto something, probably you.

“No, ohhh, mommy I do, I want it s’bad!

Shaking your head makes Izuku whine, his hips thrusting into the air desperately before they stilled.

“Please... You make me feel so-so good mommy. I love you so much. just wanna cum...”

And his voice sounds so broken, all raspy and breathless, so you relent.

You strip his cock hard and fast, the wet sound of your hand around his length clicking around the room as Izuku almost screams at the sudden stimulation.

He jerks against the bed, thrusts up into your hand, you watch his abdomen ripple and his thighs tense and-

You let go of his cock right as he starts to cum, and Izuku lets out a wounded cry. His hands fly to his aching cock to rub himself through his orgasm, ease the tingling and the throbbing as his cock jerks, but you’re faster. His wrists are grabbed, and you pull them to your chest, ignoring the eyes looking at you pleadingly. Your own eyes are focused on his cock, globs of cum oozing out of the tip, running down the sides, his cock twitching and moving as if it had a life of it’s own.

“MOmmy no!” The man cries, but it’s useless now, his orgasm’s already been ruined.

“Shh ‘Zuzu, you’re okay. Mommy loves you.” You soothe, moving to his side so you can give him an awkward hug, his hands flying to clutch at you as soon as you let go of them/

“Mm, love you, love you mommy. Love you so much.” He sniffs, his hands pulling you to him so tight that you almost lose your balance.

You give him a pat on the shoulder, before trying to pull away, stopped by his firm grip. “Baby, let mommy go so I can take care of you.”

The man sniffs once more, pressing himself to you tightly with a wet kiss to your neck before relenting, letting you sit up.

A timid smile graced your lips as you shuffled down again, attention back on his cock. 

It was even wetter now, cum barely dribbling out the tip, some of it on your boyfriend’s lower tummy, some of it slipping to his balls. His legs were spread, and you’d be surprised if some of the whiteish liquid hadn’t dripped down his taint.

Gently, you started rubbing his thighs, soft little circles meant to soothe and calm. 

You spent a fair amount of time doing that, ten minutes, fifteen, then twenty, laying your head on Izuku’s knee as you lost yourself to the mechanical movement.

But then his leg jerked, shaking you to the present and out of your thoughts.

His cock was hard again.

He was looking down at you with big, expectant eyes, watching your every move like a cat watching a mouse. You were supposed to be in charge, but you never truly felt like it. 

“Pretty boy... you’re so pretty, know that?” You cooed, reaching up to start sliding your hand along his length, the texture slick and somewhat sticky.

Izuku moaned. “Not-not as pretty as mommy... You’re the prettiest. Love you...” He trailed off, obviously wanting you to say it back.

“I love you too Izuku.” And then it was back to teasing, rubbing at his cock before gripping him tightly, squeezing at the base, playing with his balls, fondling the soft skin.

He was getting impatient.

“Mommy, I wanna fuck you.” Izuku whined, his eyes tearing up, already shuffling so he could sit up.

You were tired, but you figured that he might as well. Telling him no might lead to a big fight, and you’d be back where you started, Izuku accusing you of the unforgivable offense of no longer loving him.

Nodding, you let go of his cock.

Within seconds, you were on your back, your boyfriend pushing and pulling at your limbs until they were where he wanted them.

“Oh, look at mommy, look at this.” the man sighed, pulling your panties to the side to reveal your slit, already glistening. “All for me, right? Just me?”

“Mm-hm.” You reassured him, jolting a bit as his fingers started to slide against your folds, before rushing to dip one inside.

He was often too eager with this stage, wanting to fuck you now. But you endured, wincing a bit at the slight sting as he began pushing in and out, dipping down to mouth at your neck.

Green curls tickled your skin, and you latched onto them, tugging a bit when he pushed another finger inside, impatient.

“Sorry, I just-just wanna feel-wanna fuck you, you’re.... I love you.”

He couldn’t stop himself from telling you every other second, adding a third finger, scissoring them inside you a bit too fast for it to be comfortable.

But then they were gone, and he was lining himself up.

“Be gentle-be gentle-!” You cautioned, words cut off with a small gasp as he pushed inside, only half listening.

He was average, definitely not the biggest you’d ever taken, but thick enough to have your eyes fluttering shut with each rock of his hips against your body. 

You still had your hands buried in his curls, Izuku lifting his head so he could kiss you on the mouth, wet and warm and hungry for every ounce of affection he could pull from you.

It didn’t take long for him to find his rhythm, thankfully not hammering into you, just thrusting quick and short, barely pulling out before seating himself balls deep again.

And it took even less time for him to start moaning about his impending release.

“Mommy, fuck, you feel amazing, I’m so close.”

You were on the pill, but Izuku knew how much you didn’t like him cumming inside. It felt weird, and you hated the cleanup, and it was just a general mess you’d rather avoid.

“Izu...oh pull-pull out baby, don’t cum inside mommy.”

His eyes fix you with a stern glare, as stern as he can manage after being teased and having his orgasm ruined and teased again until he cried. But then he softened, burying his face into your neck, whining quietly.

“No, no, nuh-uh mommy-y, wanna-wanna cum inside. I wanna cum inside mommy, I’m-I’m gonna cum inside mommy.”

His thrusts faltered, becoming jerky and quick and entirely focused on his own pleasure as little moans and gasps punched out of his throat. “Wanna cum, wanna cum, wanna cum-!” He cried, humping against you like an inexperienced virgin.

His load gushed into you like a flood, and you barely thought to wince before you were bumming yourself, limbs twitching erratically as you rode out the waves burning through your body.

It takes you a few minutes to come down, Izuku’s bigger body draped across your form as he tried to even out his breathing, gulping in air as if he’d just finished a marathon.

You felt irritated at him, that he had cum inside, at how he always bulldozed past what you wanted. 

A small part of you knew that this wasn’t.... it wasn’t okay. He was breaking your boundaries, and the unending reliance and worship made it hard for you to tell him no.

It felt good though, having someone tell you that you’re the reason that they woke up every morning. That they couldn’t live without you, how you were their everything, their one and only. He lifted you up, praised you and made you feel wanted and needed.

Your relationship was a pot of water being brought to a boil. You knew it was happening, you knew it wasn’t good, but the water felt warm. The sting of it’s heat was welcome for now, even though you knew that it would end in nothing good.

Even if you wanted to get out, how would you? Izuku kept such a tight grip on you, even now, his arms holding you close, his bodyweight crushing you.

He was just so needy.

And you were willing to give.

#izuku midoriya #yandere izuku #izuku midoria x reader #yandere izuku midoriya #izuku imagine #izuku smut #bnha midoriya #bnha #BNHA smut #my hero academia #bad relationship #bad dynamics #unhealthy relationships #dependency #co-dependence #tw dubcon #tw.dubcon

[redrobin-detective]

Idk why but dp and bb crossovers are so funny to me like imagine just being a ghost kid trying to do your job and this smug demon won't leave you alone because he knows you aren't completely human and just wants to reveal your secret for fun

Danny and Seb lowkey get into a competition to out inhuman the other as an intimidation tactic until they're complete monsters at this point and Ciel is in the middle just so goddamn exhausted. He just wants to find the people who murdered his family and die in peace.

I've gotten enough asks that I now have a plan for this au haha: Danny accidentally goes through a time portal in the Zone into BB Victorian London and can't get back through it before it closes. He's trying to find a portal when he runs into some other supernatural beings in London which also leads him to Ciel and Seb. They initially peg him as a reaper but he's pretty obviously Something Else. So they do the same thing they do when they find a talented, powerful, stupid and lost being capable of causing massive harm; they take him back to the manor and give him a job.

Danny doesn't really get a choice in this, Ciel basically strong arms him with a deal: he will use his abilities (of which Danny doesnt really tell them what he can and can't do, he doesn't trust them as he shouldn't) to help Ciel's mission and Ciel will provide Danny with sanctuary as well as search for a way home for him. It's a stalemate but get the following delightful situations.

- Danny has to admit he's from the far future and, to excuse his powers, pretends everyone in the future has supernatural abilities. The things he tries to bullshit are hilarious.

- The servants a d o r e him, he's barely older than their young master but has also bene through some shit while also remaining a sweetie. They would die for him even though he could probably take them all, except Finny, out. Danny has no idea he just got new uncles and an aunt. They try and teach him Victorian England stuff, Danny is working on teaching Finny to skateboard. It's great fun.

- Danny finds himself strangely relaxed in this foreign land and time to be more of himself? Especially around Seb, like yeah he's devious and evil and manipulative but that's just Vlad only more polite. When the humans aren't around they let out their more inhuman traits until even Ciel is getting disturbed. The servants are desensitized by now and think it's great fun.

- Danny actually running into reapers and being like 'hi what the FUCK are you doing with a 21st century lawnmower/chainsaw' and they're like 'hi what the FUCK is a ghost hybrid from 200 years from now doing here?' everyone is confused and there's lots of yelling.

- They get so much sneaky shit done with Danny around who is very much stressed out. He is 14 and committing actual treason in another country in the past and he's upset. His parents won't be born for centuries and he just knows they'll find out somehow.

- Danny is given the role as a page boy because he's too young to be anything else and it's hilarious. Ciel delights in giving him menial assignments and Danny delights in being a contrary pain in the ass. They're both snarky, depressed, overwhelmed with their black, bleak outlook and sense of humor. They get on very well actually. Sometimes, he asks Danny very quietly when Seb is far away what it's like to die.

- Speaking of which, if Danny gets a whiff of the contract btw Ciel and Seb he is going after that demon with his claws bared. That is his LITTLE BROTHER that he just adopted just now and you are not going to purposely make him miserable only to eat his soul. It is fucking on.

- This is a very fun, ridiculous yet strangely heartwarming au about finding comfort in shared oddness in different circumstances. London proper doesn't even know what to make of the newest Phantomhive servant because that house is weird af.

#Phantom Butler #i guess I'll call it that sure #oh no i love it #I want danny in a nice english suit with his hair slicked back trying to a domestic servant #he'd be so fucking bad at it #he just causes problems on purpose #so that Ciel will let him go faster #(only oh no he's bonded with these weirdos now and his obsession wants to protect them from the Very Obvious Threat in the house)

[blossom-hwa]

pirate!ateez |1|

So uh. this is what we get from the kingdom wonderland performance, watching too many wonderland stages as a result, and yelling to mai + javi?????? here we go I guess??? This is only half the members - the other half will be in a separate post later this week!

(credits to mai @wingkkun​ for the ideas that sparked san, mingi, and yeosang’s stories!)

Pairing: Ateez x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 8.7k (total)

Genre: some fluff, mostly angst, pirate!au

Triggers: cursing, blood, death (sometimes semi-graphic), like one implication of sex, implied physical abuse in one part - specific triggers for each section are listed below the headers!

Part 1 (Hongjoong, Seonghwa, Yunho, Yeosang) | Part 2 (San, Mingi, Wooyoung, Jongho)

Ateez Masterlist

hongjoong (captain)

warnings: cursing, death, some suggestive themes but absolutely nothing explicit (just implied sex)

oh good lord here we go

hongjoong is the captain of this ship. perfect captain, really - he’s got a knack for discipline while also taking care of his crew

he really does care for them, like after all he’s been through they’re basically his family at this point. he’s got nothing but them, this ship, and whatever they’ve managed to pillage from other crews - if he lost a single member, hongjoong isn’t sure if he could handle it

actually that’s a lie. he knows he could handle it. but it’s already happened several times, and the pain he feels but has to hide sometimes makes him want to just throw himself into the waves

(especially with a certain person, but i won’t elaborate on that just yet)

anyway his crew respects him even if they don’t always act it (looking at you wooyoung), they like to fool around and hongjoong will lovingly deal with it 

however when they’ve really messed up....

let’s just say no one ever likes being called to hongjoong’s quarters

most often it’s one of woosan or both for fooling around a little too often but everyone’s been there at least once

even seonghwa like???? what did seonghwa ever do

(he’s never elaborated. neither has hongjoong. that somehow just makes everyone even more afraid ksjdngsdh)

but sometimes! the turn tables!! and people will call hongjoong to their rooms

i say people like it’s more than one person 

i mean it technically is?? seonghwa and you??? but people feels like it implies many persons when in reality it’s just you and seonghwa and seonghwa comes in much later than you do

the first time it happens is when hongjoong almost fucking passes out on deck because 1. the sun is out and it’s hot as balls and 2. he’s been up for over twenty four hours straight after a battle trying to make sure everything is in order

which no one realizes - i mean even if your captain is motherfucking kim hongjoong you’d assume this dude at least took like an hour nap during that 24 hr+ period of time but NO this motherfucker is stupid when it comes to himself - until you’re heading belowdecks with him and hongjoong takes ONE FUCKING STEP down the stairs and almost keels over right then and there

you drag him to his room and even half collapsed he’s trying to say he needs to do something or the other but you just stand over him with your arms crossed n shit and hongjoong’s like okay never mind yes i will sleep

(he sleeps for fifteen hours straight)

anyway after that you went up on deck and called that motherfucker to your room in the same tone of voice he uses to call the others to his room and gave him the beatdown of his fucking life

maybe hongjoong’s a masochist because that’s when he realized he was head over heels in love with you

like?? in the middle of you yelling at him to take care of himself because kim fucking hongjoong what do you think is gonna happen if you die??? huh???? you think woosan can handle themselves????? you think I can deal with them?????? and good fucking lord if you’re going to die at least let it be of something badass you dumb piece of shit not like FALLING DOWN THE STAIRS BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO TIRED TO SEE WHERE YOUR FOOT WAS GOING -

and halfway through hongjoong isn’t even listening to you he’s just trying to figure out how it took so long for him to realize this

you’ve been together like... forever. literally almost as long as hongjoong can remember

you two got your first ship together, recruited the others together, decided to find the treasure you’ve now been seeking for YEARS together, literally everything started with you so why is it only now that hongjoong is realizing just how much he’s in love with you

he kinda blurts it out a couple of months later when you’re aggressively forcing him down to the medbay because he wanted everyone else to get treated first before the ship’s doctor looked at his wounds and you just say ‘confessing your love isn’t going to get you out of a doctor’s visit now i don’t care if you hurt your leg i’ll carry you if i have to so mOVE YOUR ASS’

he falls even more in love with you after that

and you don’t leave him hanging - you’ve been in love with hongjoong for as long as he’s been in love with you, it just... didn’t really manifest in a visible way?? like you’ve always been aggressively caring with him. it got a lot more aggressive when you realized your feelings but hongjoong just thought that was like. a normal thing

lmao you thought

but yeah so everyone’s like WE BEEN KNEW when you start spending more and more time in hongjoong’s room instead of the quarters you share with the other crew members

they don’t even care they’re just like HELL YEAH MORE SPACE

also they (read: woosan) love teasing the two of you but then you just hit them over their heads and ask if they’d like to be called to your room

they shut up immediately and you just go back to hongjoong’s room

(he kisses softly, by the way, but with so much passion it feels like one of the storms that mother nature uses to buffet your ship around. when hongjoong kisses you like this it feels like everything in you is breaking apart and reforming all at once, like he’s taking your life and breathing it back into you at the same time, and if your hands begin to move and someone gets pushed onto the bed who’s gonna say shit?)

but a pirate’s life is a pirate’s life and everyone is literally risking their neck to sail the seas the way they do - no one is safe, ever. not during battles, not even when you’re standing around on the ship’s deck

and certainly not when mother nature decides to wreak havoc on the water that you and hongjoong have begun to think of as home.

they’ve seen the storm coming all day, literally everyone is prepped and serious and no one’s fooling around because yeosang has been watching the clouds for hours and there’s no sign of the storm passing them by

so when the wind and water begin to toss the ship around, they’re ready. everyone’s ready. everything seems to be going smoothly until a couple of hours pass and the storm is only growing worse

hongjoong can’t see in the darkness, not with clouds covering the stars and the moon, not with water pounding over the deck in waves higher than yunho and mingi combined, he’s soaked and shivering but still yelling orders to anyone who can hear them and he’s just praying they’ll make it through the night, make it through the few hours left until morning

the few people on deck are mostly tied to stable things with rope so that no one goes overboard

but what no one expects is for a section of rope to snap, taking san with it

people start screaming and grabbing for him and yunho literally lunges for san but the wind doesn’t care, it slams him against the railing so hard hongjoong feels his own teeth chatter in his jaw with the power behind that hit

a wave crashes over deck at the same moment and everyone thinks he’s lost.

until a literal banshee screech tears through the wind and waves and you grab san, dragging him away from the railing and back toward jongho, who seizes onto a limp san with strong arms

and you turn around but you turn around too easily, like there isn’t a rope tying you to the mast -

because there isn’t. it snapped when you ran forward to get san

you come to this realization at the same time hongjoong does and he sees the panic in your eyes just as he reaches out to you - now there’s nothing tying you down, nothing to keep you from being swept away by the next wave, nothing but his fingertips just touching yours -

but it’s too late. water crashes over hongjoong and salt stings his eyes and when he opens them, there’s one less shadow on the deck than there should be

and there is no sound of screaming from the water below.

for days afterwards the only thing hongjoong can see is the look of terror in your eyes just before the wave stole his sight and your outstretched hand away

and all he can think is how he should’ve been stronger. faster. braver. literally anything

you two always joked that he’d be the first to go because he never took care of himself but death caught you first

and it isn’t fair

it isn’t like hongjoong hasn’t lost crew members before - he has. but the loss of someone so close, someone who’s been with him for over a decade, someone who knows him better than he knows himself almost breaks him. there isn’t even a body left to burn or bury. you’ve been lost to the water that hongjoong thought of as home

it still is his home. the movement of water comforts him far more than solid land ever did, but there’s a new fear, a new respect for mother nature whenever he stares at the shining blue waves that killed you

eventually he recovers with the help of his crew, and they go on to look for the treasure. there are adventures along the way and throughout each of them, hongjoong thinks of what it would be like if you were there, fighting by his side

and then they find the treasure, after years of pillaging and exploring. they find the treasure and when hongjoong approaches the center of the island, the only thoughts running through his mind are of you, what you would do if you were here, what you would say, how you’d look at him with pride and that little smirk he loved to kiss off your face

he attempts to open the treasure trove and an apparition appears, the apparition that guards it. hongjoong’s ready for the wisp of smoke

until it turns into you.

but it isn’t you. bitterness twists your familiar eyes and a deep, betrayed frown downturns your lips and hongjoong is paralyzed - it’s you but at the same time it isn’t -

then you open your mouth

and with the same voice that used to remind him to take care of himself, the same voice that used to remind him you loved him

you ask why he wasn’t faster. why he wasn’t stronger. why he didn’t manage to pull you out of the wave and save you, why he failed when it came to you

it hits him like arrows to the chest because these are all thoughts hongjoong himself has had. they plagued him for days, months, years even after your death, and even now, they still do - but his crew has managed to help him keep those thoughts at bay recently, because deep down, they know and he knows that you would never think that way

yet here you are, expression bitter and angry, speaking those same thoughts seonghwa reassured him you would never say

he can’t open the trove that day. he comes back again. and again. and again and again and again but every time he breaks down at the sight of the loathing in your face and it isn’t until seonghwa and jongho literally drag him back to the ship and set sail again that he stops

but the apparition haunts him now, mixed with visions of you disappearing from his fingertips as the wave tosses you overboard

and this time, hongjoong doesn’t know if he’ll ever recover.

seonghwa (boatswain, later quartermaster)

warnings: cursing, death, blood, implied physical abuse (nothing explicitly described)

so seonghwa didn’t live on the streets from the start like hongjoong or san, he actually came from nobility

look at his face and tell me it isn’t noble. yeah you can’t that’s what i fucking thought

anyway yeah, he was born into a noble family and pretty much lived that way until like his late teens or something when pirates ransacked his town, killed his family, and took him hostage

but we’re not going to unpack all of that yet so let’s go back in time to when seonghwa was still a member of nobility

his family was famous for being kind. like a lot of other nobles in other towns were snobby assholes who didn’t give two shits about the common people

and maybe it’s just because seonghwa’s family was nobility in a smaller town and as such knew a lot of commoners/peasants more closely plus the fact that they were never really rich rich, their title just comes from some wealthy ancestor and they’ve managed to keep it throughout the years

but yeah, seonghwa’s family isn’t universally hated among the peasantry because they’re actually decent fucking people and they protect those under them

so seonghwa learns from a young age to be kind and pleasant and as he grows older, he learns how to run the estate, how to play politics with the kingdom and the town, all that good stuff

and with all of that comes marriage, too

it might’ve been a problem if there was no one around that he liked but luckily you’ve been a fixture in seonghwa’s life since he was very young

your family is also nobility in a nearby small town and it’s actually perfect - you’re the younger sibling, so you don’t inherit the estate, but you do have a sharp mind and qualities that a family would be looking for when they try to find someone to marry their son off to

what makes everything even better is that since you’ve been around for a long time, seonghwa is head over heels in love with you and you’re head over heels in love with him

classic childhood friends to lovers

when you visited seonghwa’s town, he’d take you to the marketplace to meet people and you’d do the same for him

at balls, you would dance with each other as much was deemed appropriate by high society

someone’s kid got lost one time and seonghwa had carried her around with you, singing softly as you asked around for the kid’s parents until they were found

needless to say at this point your villages know the two of you very well and it isn’t just your parents rooting for this marriage lmao

so you get engaged and all and you aren’t going to marry until a few years later, you’re too young at the moment and both of you would prefer a little more freedom before you have to settle down

but at the engagement ceremony you exchanged rings and you two haven’t taken them off since, so it serves as a reminder of your bond

not like you need a reminder anyway - seonghwa is a dream come true, and there’s no way you would ever voluntarily leave him. ever. 

except nothing ever goes to plan especially in my universes so pirates attack just a year before you two are supposed to be married

you’re in seonghwa’s town visiting his family when the attack happens and both of you have just witnessed both of his parents being cut down before your eyes and you’re pulling seonghwa out of the estate, hoping to escape in the flood of screaming and fleeing people

but someone knocks you down as seonghwa yells your name

his hand loosens from yours and you try to grab at him but he just gets further and further away

you scream for him but someone else is already dragging him in the opposite direction and that’s the last you see of him

somehow you escape and manage to get back to your own village but seonghwa’s entire family is dead

there’s no reason to believe he survived either

and from that day on you grow a hatred of pirates so strong that you leave your family to join the navy just so you can take your revenge on those who took seonghwa and his family away from you

most of the navy recruits are children of former or current members, you’re the odd one out with your noble manners and method of speech

but you adapt quickly and desire for revenge fuels your motivation to keep moving, to keep getting better no matter how many times people knock you down

it’s for seonghwa and his family. always for them. 

you finish training with high honors and when you’re assigned to a fleet, you actually make a bit of a name for yourself - pirates don’t know who you are, exactly, but they’ve given you a nickname based on your appearance and it gets passed around in hushed whispers whenever it’s rumored that a navy fleet is coming to port

anyway that’s you. let’s move on to seonghwa

seonghwa isn’t dead (obviously), he was taken hostage because he’s young and strong and the pirates who took him thought he’d be a decent cabin boy or something, or maybe even a sailor

so seonghwa ends up working on that ship

the pirates really do not treat him well, the only moments of respite he gets are in sleep or when they dock sometimes

there are nights where seonghwa just wishes a huge storm would crack the ship in half and leave them all to drown, he has nothing to live for anymore - his parents are dead and he doesn’t even want to think about what might’ve happened to you

but spite fuels him and keeps him alive

seonghwa isn’t all that much of a goody two shoes after all - he knows how to use a sword and learns quickly. he also acts well and adapts

which is why eventually, he gains enough tentative trust from the crew that he won’t run away, so he’s allowed to explore the towns a little before the ship makes their attack wherever they are

but little do they know seonghwa is patient, observant, and has always been looking for the right time to slip away

so when the pirates do attack, seonghwa runs off and hides in the next town, where he meets hongjoong + his partner who have just gotten themselves a ship

so seonghwa joins the tiny crew of hongjoong’s pirate ship

he has reservations at first about the whole pirate thing, given who offed his entire family (and you - he thinks you’re dead and who can blame him?), but seonghwa quickly learns  hongjoong isn’t a mindless pillager or killer. he protects his crew and he has a purpose that he’s driven to fulfill - find the treasure and have a few adventures on the way. that’s all

he’s the first of the crew to join hongjoong besides his partner, and the three of them grow very close as the years pass

seonghwa starts out as the ship’s boatswain, keeping track of supplies and the ship’s general maintenance - he’s good at that, seeing as he has a sharp eye for detail and things that seem off, so he knows when people have been sneaking food (read: wooyoung)

hongjoong may be the captain, but the crew likes to joke that seonghwa is the one who actually keeps the ship running

he’s always there to listen to the newer members’ fears, their stories, or just to sit with them in comforting silence so they know they’re not alone

because if there’s anything seonghwa knows, it’s the horrible feeling of being completely alone, cut off from all those who once loved him

when hongjoong’s partner dies, seonghwa takes on the role of caring aggressively for hongjoong (aka asking the captain to come to his room)

albeit it’s in different ways because no one could ever replace the captain’s quartermaster. even if seonghwa technically holds the title now, it’s really in name only. yeah seonghwa fulfills the same duties, but everyone agrees - even him - that a void was left when hongjoong’s partner died, a void that’s closed up a little but will never fully leave

so time passes like this, seonghwa as a pirate, you in the navy, both completely unaware that the other is fully alive

until your crew receives word that a small pirate ship is going to be docking in a nearby port and you rush to meet it there

the fight is bloody and dirty, neither side playing fair

but you keep fighting, not stopping until you corner a pirate in an empty alley of the town

both of you have your swords out and there’s so much blood and grime on your faces that you can barely see

but there’s something familiar in the pirate’s expression. something in his eyes

something that makes you pause.

and then the bloody afternoon sunlight catches on something metal on his finger

a ring. a very familiar ring

identical, actually, to the one still on your hand. 

seonghwa reaches the conclusion at the same time you do and for a moment it’s kind of funny like that spiderman meme 

you two are just staring wide-eyed at each other while individual battles rage around you

seonghwa’s reeling - yes, the nickname that his crew had tossed around did get at some of your features, but never once in his entire life did he think that the navy fighter everyone feared so much would be you

somehow, even with all the dirt and blood caking your skin, you look as beautiful as ever

but the shattered look in your eyes is nothing he’s ever seen before.

meanwhile you’ve just gone slack with betrayal, betrayal at the knowledge that pirates killed seonghwa’s entire family yet he ended up on a pirate ship anyway, fighting battles for the fucking ship

he looks the same - a little older, a little more mature, his lips are still full and his eyes still beautiful with that same nose you loved to kiss so many years ago

but god, every cell in your body aches to scream, to rip him apart for this betrayal he made to everything you two stood for

(deep down you know there must be a reason for this - seonghwa doesn’t make decisions lightly, if he joined a pirate ship and is fighting for them, there has to be some reason why)

(but in the moment you can only feel the fury and betrayal that your former fiancé and the love of your life, the same person who was kidnapped by pirates and whose family was killed by pirates, has joined a crew)

except you can’t kill him. you know you can’t

and neither can he. you’re standing in front of him, his literal enemy - he’s trained over the years to become ruthless to those who aren’t members of his crew, to show no mercy

but at the sight of your eyes and the ring still on your finger, all of that training just shatters

you barely even exchange words. all you do is look at each other and then at the rings still on your hands, a promise unwillingly broken

it crosses your mind to take it off and throw it in the dust, show just how much that ring means to you when seonghwa’s betrayed you so badly

but just like you can’t kill him, you can’t take off the ring, even if it feels like it’s choking the circulation out of your finger

because even after all this time, you still love him. you still love seonghwa as much as he loves you

seonghwa just watches you level your sword at him, the blade positioning itself over his throat

he can’t kill you. he won’t. he knows that and he’s willing to accept his death at your hands

but you don’t do it. you just say, in a voice that’s broken beyond repair

if i see your face ever again, i swear on every god that exists that i will kill you

and you storm out of the alley, leaving a shaking seonghwa behind

(he doesn’t see it, but you can barely hold your sword steady either)

the fight ends a few hours later, seonghwa helps carry the injured back to the ship and set sail

it isn’t until hongjoong pulls him aside and tells him to wash up that he realizes just how tired he is

but even then, he can’t sleep. he ends up on deck, sitting against the rails, looking up at the night sky full of cold, twinkling stars as the ship bobs in the waves

hongjoong’s steering and asks him what’s wrong

seonghwa doesn’t say anything. it isn’t because hongjoong would throw him overboard for knowing a member of the navy, seonghwa’s proven himself loyal many times over and hongjoong knows that

but because even though hongjoong knows about his past and even about you, seonghwa doesn’t know what to say

he doesn’t know how to verbalize the vision of you, bloody and dirty, carrying a sword and wearing the ring he put on your hand so many years ago

he doesn’t know how to explain the achingly vivid picture of you painted in his mind, clearly older and more mature, having grown into your features over the years and still as gorgeous as ever

but worst of all, he doesn’t know how to describe the absolutely shattered look in your eyes, broken shards of glass fragmenting your expression as you took in his face, his body, the clothes and look of a pirate

seonghwa knows he couldn’t give up this life now, not after all that hongjoong has done and sacrificed for him, maybe he’d have tried to explain that to you if time had allowed it. he might even have asked you to come with him

but something tells him you wouldn’t have cared because in your eyes, he betrayed you, betrayed his family and yours

and it hurts. it hurts knowing he pained you this badly because after all this time, seonghwa still loves you

it’s why he never took off the ring, after all.

right now he honestly doesn’t know which is worse - thinking you’re dead and that he’ll never see you again, or knowing you’re alive but that you hate him and will kill him on sight the next time you meet

moonlight glitters mockingly on the ring on his finger, once a reminder of you and a promise of love

now a reminder of that same promise broken, and a new promise made - one that secures his death, should he ever come face to face with his love again.

yunho (able-bodied sailor (ABS), later boatswain)

warnings: cursing

ah yes yunho. resident teddy bear who the new recruits think is just very soft - like why is he even on a pirate ship?

then the first battle comes around and they see yunho tearing around like a demon

and suddenly it all makes sense

anyway yunho really is a teddy bear most of the time - along with seonghwa, he’s the one that new recruits go to the most when they don’t know what’s happening because he’s kind and willing to explain if he’s got a bit of time

however if you come for anyone this man cares about, you’re fucked with around ten capital Fs 

yunho knows how to handle the sword at his belt, plus several other types of weapons as well

honestly probably only san and hongjoong are more skilled at fighting than yunho is

but moving on! yunho started out as one of the able-bodied sailors (that’s what they’re called on the site i’m using), essentially semi-skilled but not really specialized in specific roles of the ship

however when hongjoong’s partner was swept away in the storm, seonghwa became quartermaster and chose yunho to take over his previous boatswain duties

because yunho’s responsible and he knows what he’s doing, he also followed seonghwa around a lot when he was a bit younger so he’s learned more or less what a boatswain does - plus, he’s a quick learner, so anything he doesn’t know already seonghwa can teach him quickly

and because yunho’s now boatswain and is in charge of supplies on the ship, he spends a lot of time in the towns at every port where they legally dock because supplies!

which is how he meets you

you’re a commoner just trying to run your little grocery store, and times have been tough until yunho passes by your place and buys some fruit

throughout his brief stay in the town he comes by again and again and gives you enough business on his own to kickstart your life again

(but like let’s also not forget that a bunch of kids - boys and girls alike - start crowding in to see what this hot older dude is doing at this little grocery store)

so you’re eternally grateful to one jung yunho for helping you get back on your feet even if it was unintentional

and the next time the ship has docked in this port, you make sure to thank him effusively for it

because it isn’t just you that you’re trying to support - you have family too and you were never exactly the wealthiest, so the added business really means a lot to you regardless of whether yunho intended to have such an effect or not

yunho just blushes and says he’s happy to have helped, then tries to wave away the small bundle of groceries you give him for free

you think you’ve succeeded but yunho is Smooth and drops a small sack of coins into your front pocket just before he disappears into the market crowd

which is the start of your crush on the handsome guy named jung yunho who smiles like a teddy bear and has the sparkling eyes to match

meanwhile yunho has had a fucking crush on you since he passed by the grocery that first time

which is why he came back a second and a third time during that first visit

and why he keeps coming back, visit after visit until he’s staying in the store way past the time he should be returning to the ship and eventually kissing you in the moonlight just outside the store before he walks you home

you feel like you’re on cloud nine after that first kiss - yunho is everything you’ve ever wanted in a partner

your family loves him too, based on the encounters they’ve had the few times he was around when they were there

the only thing that worries you is the fact that he spends so much time... elsewhere

you’re well aware of the fact that he doesn’t live here, not even close by - you’ve seen the ships docked in port and yunho’s told you enough for you to understand that he travels for his living

but ateez is skilled at camouflaging themselves as not pirates, but something more benign - traveling merchants, things like that

and with yunho coming to town every so often with the purpose of restocking the ship, it isn’t so hard to believe

but as time goes on you start to grow a little suspicious

you’ll never take traveling away from yunho, as much as you’d like to settle down with him you know that the sea is his first love just as he’s yours, and you would never force him to choose

you can satisfy yourself just knowing he’ll come back to visit, no matter what

but sometimes you prod a little more and it’s uneasy the way yunho just clams up

because normally he’s happy to talk about anything and everything

but out of wishful thinking + the desire to pretend nothing is wrong, you just ignore it

until one night you’re out on a walk and you hear a familiar voice discussing routes and paths with a different, unfamiliar voice

but the first one you know

because it’s yunho

they’re talking about treasure and ships and how much gold they have and what they need

pirates

you try to reason it all away, try to spin their words in a way that makes them out to merely be the traveling merchants you always assumed they were

but then you realize - yunho never said that to you. it was always just your assumption

he never lied, but he never told you the truth

and now you have to face it on your own - yunho is part of a crew of pirates and there’s no reasoning it away

especially when you see the blades strapped to their sides glinting in the moonlight

the night is long and yunho doesn’t come by the next day, so you have time to think

and by the time he does come around, you’ve made a decision

that day, stone cold and unwavering, you tell him you want nothing more to do with him. even as your heart cracks at the dawning horror and shame and pain on yunho’s face, you tell him that on no account can you be found dealing with pirates

if it were just you, you might risk a little more, consider keeping this relationship with yunho a little longer

but you don’t live in a place that’s known for its sympathy to pirates - it isn’t a royal navy haven, exactly, but it isn’t lawless either

and you have a family to protect, too. the grocery store is all you have and if someone found out you were having a dalliance with a pirate, that might be taken away from you

yunho is crushed, absolutely crushed when he hears you and sees you speaking this way

part of him wants to get angry because you’ve been together for this long - what changes just because you found out he’s a pirate?

but he understands, even though he doesn’t want to. he understands that you have a family you need to protect and that a relationship with a pirate will only jeopardize that

it’s what he would do, right, if his own family, his crew mates, were also in danger? if he had a relationship with someone who would put them in harm’s way, he’d cut it off just as you did

so that day, you both part ways. neither of you expects to see the other ever again

and for several years, it seems that way

your family stops asking about that nice traveling merchant who looked at you with the sweetest smile

and seonghwa helps yunho out of his stupor. he understands, after all - his own love swore to kill him if they ever met again

broken hearts eventually heal, cracks still visible but no longer gaping wide, and life goes on

until yunho bursts into your little store one day, eyes wide and face white

you almost don’t recognize him at first - besides the fact that it’s been several years, you’ve never seen him look this frazzled

but once you do recognize him it’s like all those years fall away and you’re in love with him again, reaching out to touch him and ask him what’s wrong, despite the words you spoke that last day

yunho grabs your hands in a vice grip when you reach out and in the most serious voice you’ve ever heard him use, he tells you to get out of here with everyone you love

because other pirates are coming to attack. 

it takes you a second to register his words when he first says them because what - pirates? what would they ever want to do with your little village?

but the fear in yunho’s eyes makes it clear he’s telling the truth

so all you do is nod and squeeze his hands unconsciously, maybe, before picking up your things and running down the path back home

yunho doesn’t follow, not at first. he stays back a little to warn the other families he grew closer with during his visits to you, the kind people who welcomed him when he was here

some believe him, some don’t, and they all have the same look of fear in their eyes once they realize what yunho truly is

he doesn’t care, though - it doesn’t matter how much that fear hurts him, as long as they get out safe, that’s all that matters

yunho catches up to you just as you’re leaving the house. your family starts raising questions but you cut them off with a glare, and one of the older members of the family just herds everyone away to give you and yunho a last moment of space

except you don’t say anything. neither of you do

it’s half not knowing what to say after so many years apart

but it’s also half knowing exactly what the other is thinking, even after so many years apart

at some point yunho took your hands and now your touch just makes it painfully clear that even though he loved you, still loves you, none of this was ever meant to be

maybe in another lifetime, in a more perfect universe, but not this one

and the same thoughts are running through your head as you squeeze his fingers, rough and scarred from all his time on the sea

he pulls you close, presses a kiss on your forehead

you rest your head against his shoulder and whisper thank you as you squeeze him one last time

when you pull away, there’s apology in both your gazes - you for breaking things apart so painfully, yunho for having the profession he does

but there’s also acceptance and gratitude for years well spent in your love

(and of that love, much of it still remains)

you return to your family, who’s still waiting, leaving yunho behind

and one more time before you leave forever, you look back

he’s still there, watching you go

you let yourself smile again, once more

yunho lets himself smile too as he waves goodbye

it’s the goodbye you should have had the last time you parted, instead of the forced coldness and biting words you used to cut your relationship apart, and regret pinches deep in your chest

but you can only be grateful for the second chance to say farewell, so you wave too, exchanging one last smile before you disappear

neither of you sees the other ever again.

yeosang (sailing master)

warnings: cursing, death, semi-graphic depiction of blood, implied drowning

hehet

guys i love this dude he’s so fucking cute i want to pat his head all the time

not in a bias way he’s just v cute and i adore him

ok this is supposed to be a pirate au not me yelling about how beautiful one kang yeosang can be so let’s start

yeosang is sailing master of hongjoong’s ship, which means he’s in charge of navigation and following the maps and all

and he’s very good at his job! yeosang’s very smart and knows what he’s doing, also is very observant so if he sees something’s wrong in a map or something he will actually make notes and fix things so next time the crew is prepared

spends most of his time up in the crow’s nest because that’s the best vantage point from where he can see other ships and/or land

except sometimes he speaks a little too softly so he has to yell like five times for whoever’s steering to hear him

(wooyoung likes to joke that he should be the one up in the nest because he’s loud as fuck but then yeosang reminds him of that one time he tried to read a map but it was upside down and yeosang was the one who managed to put them back on course)

(wooyoung then shuts up)

yeosang was born in a relatively well-off family, not nobility or anything but they had some money which meant he was educated

and he ended up being pretty good at math n stuff and really like screwing around with the maps he’d find in his parents’ small library

except his parents died of a plague when he was little, and he got sent to live in an orphanage

he took the maps and books with him and that’s where he grew up until wooyoung came around

you know that video where yeosang says he was v innocent and didn’t know how the world worked and his parents were worried about him until he became friends with wooyoung? yeah that’s essentially what’s at play here

before they met yeosang was pretty much just in his own little world. didn’t interact much with the other orphans and the orphanage owners really did not give a shit so he just sat in his corner reading and rereading books n shit that he’d taken from his home

but when yeosang turned idk let’s say sixteen he met wooyoung on the streets

and for some reason??? wooyoung took a liking to yeosang despite the fact that yeosang would barely give him the time of the day

in fact yeosang liked wooyoung’s partner much more

(which made wooyoung a little jealous but we’ll talk more about that later)

(i’ll just say it wasn’t romantic but wooyoung can be a blind little shit sometimes so you see where this is going)

but eventually woosang + woo’s partner become good friends

woo + partner have avoided the orphanage their whole life, just making their own living on the streets

until one day they come to yeosang with news that there’s a pirate ship willing to take them on

and they want yeosang to come with them. 

to yeosang it sounds like half a dream and half some ludicrous fantasy - first of all it’s a pirate ship, what can he even do there?

second of all IT’S A PIRATE SHIP, THEY’RE ALL GOING TO DIE

but because wooyoung is wooyoung and his partner is his partner they manage to convince yeosang to give up his half-life at the orphanage - he’s not doing anything there anyway, and at least now he might be able to travel and see the places he’s only marked on maps

and hongjoong is actually ecstatic to have yeosang on board because even though seonghwa can do some navigation, he was never the best at geography n stuff even when he was taking lessons as a noble so having someone who knows maps and details of different lands, even if he’s never seen them before, is a blessing

they all settle in on the ship together and for a while, life goes somewhat well for yeosang. the ship is small and they haven’t really built up a major reputation yet so a lot of the other pirate ships either ignore them or just literally don’t see them

which gives yeosang time to learn swordplay and other skills he needs as a pirate

and as time goes on, the crew grows larger, they gain recognition on the seas, and one night as he sits drinking on the deck with woosan + woo’s partner under the stars, he admits to himself that he feels happy

but then you come along

ateez has just won a battle against a smaller ship that you happen to be the sailing master of

except unlike sailing master yeosang, you fucking hate it there because everyone’s a bitch and willing to stab someone in the back in order to get in the captain’s good graces

and get this: the captain is still fucking alive after the battle and you just want to be anywhere but there

so in a fit of desperation you’re like LET ME ON YOUR FUCKING SHIP I HATE IT HERE MY CAPTAIN’S A BITCH I WISH HE’D DIED

which... impresses hongjoong

and it’s like?? it leaves the other ship without a sailing master so mayhaps they’re even more fucked than hongjoong intended

so you get welcomed onto the crew!

and of course it takes a few weeks/months to actually feel your welcome, ateez will give chances to newcomers but they have to prove themselves too

but you end up doing that when you almost beat mf jung yunho in a mock sword fight on your fifth try - which is basically unheard of in the crew since literally only san and hongjoong are better fighters than him

so everyone pretty much accepts you after that

except yeosang

it’s kind of stupid - he’s really just jealous that you’re also a sailing master, he’s afraid that he won’t be seen as useful anymore now that you’ve come along (and with better sword skills too)

and it doesn’t help that you get along so easily with woosan + the others, who are supposed to be yeosang’s friends

so this dumb fucking rivalry now exists between the two sailing masters of hongjoong’s ship, one jealous and the other just confused but going along with it

it gives seonghwa many headaches and hongjoong even more

but despite everything, no matter how much the other crew members try to talk you too out of it you both just point at each other and are like he/they are a bitch. you expect me to get along with a bitch ???

(jongho: i mean yeah you both get along with woosan so)

(woosan: ready to fight but not really because jongho has Strength)

so yeah you two are enemies in the loosest sense, like you try not to let the rivalry get in the way of actual pirate business but otherwise you’re either arguing or giving each other the cold shoulder

hongjoong wants to fucking cry because you two actually work very well together when the time calls for it, but you just refuse to deal with each other otherwise

until his partner dies in the storm.

the entire crew is in shock, the mood dampened for the next few months as hongjoong grieves

san is also blaming himself even though it isn’t his fault that his rope snapped, even less his fault that their rope snapped

and everyone is miserable

after a few days, you walk up to yeosang and are like. hey. we need to put whatever this is behind us, at least for now - hongjoong doesn’t need to deal with our bullshit on top of what he already has, and san needs as much support as he can get

yeosang agrees and a truce is formed

it’s awkward at first - you’re used to tossing around jabs like nobody’s business and you’ve kind of forgotten how to interact with each other without hurling insults

but after a few weeks you and yeosang are at least on normal speaking terms

no one says anything but you can see seonghwa’s eyes sparkling in relief whenever you two are seamlessly navigating the ship together, or when one hops into the crow’s nest to take over from the other without a word

and during that time, you and yeosang grow a little closer, whether you realize it or not

telling the other to go take a break, i’ll watch for a little while or this map looks a little off, wasn’t the mountain a little closer to the next kingdom?

one night, yeosang almost collapses of exhaustion, and you make him drink water before carrying him to bed

another night he finds you poring over maps at ass o’clock in the morning and forces you to sleep

small things like that help you grow closer over time, and eventually, you start going back to insulting each other - except it’s not really insulting, just teasing

you two will banter when working together or yell at each other to go the fuck to sleep you dimwit

and you’d like to think that it makes hongjoong feel a little better, too, when he eventually pulls himself out of his stupor and begins acting a little more like his old self again

san too - the cracked glass look in his eyes eventually fades, and he starts to smile again

life goes on - the search for the treasure never stops

and as the years go by you maybe start to see yeosang as more than a crew mate, then more than a friend

yeosang feels the same

but beyond small touches and banter and reminders to take care of yourselves, you never say anything because you two are COWARDS

which is something you will regret for the rest of your life. 

one day you end up in a battle with a ship bigger than you’ve fought before

hongjoong had tried to steer you out of the way, but the ship just followed and eventually a fight was inevitable

it’s bloody and horrible, you and san are fighting back to back while wooyoung and yeosang are occupied somewhere closer to the crow’s nest

and you don’t even have time to think, it’s all just slash and stab and kill if you can

so at first, you don’t realize it when wooyoung goes down with a pained yell and yeosang is left alone

you cut down one pirate who’s been giving you trouble and spin to help wooyoung but then you catch sight of yeosang scrambling up the crow’s nest, out of reach of the pirate trying to cut his ankles

and your blood freezes. because though yeosang is a good fighter, if he’s trying to escape rather than fight...

something has gone very wrong.

you see it in his dangling leg and yeosang’s face contorted with pain as he hauls himself into the nest - his ankle is hurt, broken or twisted or something 

but the other pirate doesn’t have such an injury. and just as yeosang falls into the nest, he begins to climb up

you ry to go over to help but another pirate blocks your way and you’re forced to forego helping yeosang because the stupid enemies just won't stop coming

you try to believe that he’ll be fine even as blood coats your vision, as you try to fight your own battle against a seemingly endless enemy

until there’s an earsplitting yell from above and you look up to see yeosang double over in pain

both you and san exchange a single glance before trying to push through the throng to climb up, even though the sinking feeling in your chest tells you it’ll be too late

the pirate fighting yeosang stabs him, eliciting another yell - you swear you feel yeosang’s blood spatter all the way down onto your head as you rush over

but you stop, eyes wide with horror when the pirate lifts up yeosang’s limp body, streaming blood

and throws him out of the nest. 

later, wooyoung will tell you that your scream was what stopped the battle. he isn’t even joking, he’s deadly serious - people stopped fighting because you screamed so loud

you don’t even remember screaming. you only remember watching yeosang’s body sail through the air and racing to the ship’s edge, hand reaching out in a futile effort to catch him before he falls

for less than half a second, you meet yeosang’s eyes, blown wide with terror and pain

and then his body crashes beneath the ocean waves

someone holds you back from jumping over the railing. you kick and thrash but they don’t let go

your throat is raw from screaming yeosang’s name over and over and over because he can’t be dead, he can’t be - yeosang can swim, you know he can

but he had horrible injuries, and the pain mixed with seawater very well could have killed him before he even had the chance to drown

you keep screaming until your voice dies and your yells turns to sobs and you start begging, begging for him to come back

but his familiar blond head never resurfaces.

yeosang dies that day, dragged beneath the waves

taking a piece of your heart with him, too. 

If you enjoyed, please don’t forget to reblog and leave a comment to tell me what you thought! Thank you for reading and have a lovely day <3

(1 reblog = 1 prayer for me I'm going to need like 10 years of rest after this much angst)

#destinyverse #kpopscape #ateez #atz #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez oneshots #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez hongjoong #ateez seonghwa #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #kim hongjoong #park seonghwa #jung yunho #kang yeosang #ateez hongjoong scenarios #ateez seonghwa scenarios #ateez yunho scenarios #ateez yeosang scenarios #angst #tw death #tw blood #tw cursing #tw drowning #tw sex #tw abuse #pirate!au #scriptura-delirus

[forcefully-awoken]

Summary: What she feels, so does he. It has its drawbacks, but mostly benefits.

Pairing: Loki x Sylvie

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: slightly dubious consent, unprotected sex, cunnilingus, angst, pining, idiots in love ™

It has to be wrong, the way he looks at her.

Morals stopped mattering to him a long time ago, after all what boundaries can be crossed that you can’t come back from in a few decades, one mistake is nothing in the scope of a life that never seems to end. Hell, he and Thor do the seemingly same song and dance every fifty years like clockwork but at the end of the day the only person allowed to kill Thor is him. Their brotherhood goes beyond petty grievances like pretending to be dead, or trying to take over Midgard.

But, he muses, if that’s how he is with Thor, what the hell is he meant to do with her?

Sylvie is… lovely, in her own way, he thinks. Sometimes it feels like looking into a mirror for the first time, being able to truly see what’s being reflected back at him. In her he sees his vulnerability, the desperation to belong, the harsh way she spits her words as if they can shield her from the world. He sees the softness, too, how fiercely she believes in what she’s doing, how her eyes widen seeing new parts of the universe for the first time, the wonder and joy at being a part of it. An extension of himself, a mirror that can touch back.

And therein lies Loki’s problem.

What is she, if not his? Certainly there’s something wrong, something not quite right about the way he looks at her- like he wants to eat her, wants to know if the same points on her body make her moan the way he does? Will she shudder when there’s a hand trailing up her back as he does? He wants nothing more to find some tiny corner of time and space and spend a week cataloging the differences in their bodies. No warning klaxons go off when he looks into her eyes, even when she’s yelling at him, because deep down they both know- it’s inevitable.

Sylvie feels it too, even if she won’t admit it, even if she stops looking in his eyes, turning her back to him when she finally takes a moment to rest. She’s more resistant to him than he is to her, a byproduct of their respective upbringings, he’s sure. She resists, and resists, and starts petty arguments that go nowhere and don’t mean anything in the end, because while Loki jerks himself off with quiet desperation every night, Sylvie only has this to release the tension.

“For being me, how could you be so stupid?!” Her voice is harsh, vitriol trying it’s hardest to seep into every word of it, but all he does is smile at her and think about the way those pretty pink lips would taste against his own. “Are you even listening to me?” Her hair is sparking, the magic too much to be contained, and he wonders if his ever did that without him noticing. There’s a quip on the edge of his tongue, something he knows will start another fight but instead he turns over on his side- for once putting his back to her.

Loki can hear her huff of frustration, something that oddly sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine, makes heat pool low in his gut. He hasn’t felt this way in years, the rush that comes with lusting after someone. He’s made his way through the realms just like a Prince of Asgard should, but after a certain point the names and faces blend together- and yet there is Sylvie, bright and shining like a supernova, a head above the rest with no comparison.

It’s quiet between them, for a little while, at least. Neither of them have been able to get in a decent amount of sleep in what feels like weeks, but time works differently here at the end of it all. He knows the others are somewhere close- Mobius never lets them out of direct sight it feels like, but if he closes his eyes it feels like it’s just the two of them by their little campfire. Everything seems to fade away, until all he can focus on is his incredibly hard cock between his legs.

“D’you know how twins sometimes have a connection?” Sylvie’s voice cuts through the night, a little bit too loud, drawing a little bit too much attention and she must realize because her voice soften when she continues on, “How they can feel each other’s pain? Well, I can feel that.” She spits the last word, before getting up to stalk off to who knows where.

It’s wrong then, how he sneaks his hand down the front of his pants, gripping his cock tightly, thrusting his hips ever so slightly into his fist. Now that he’s looking for it, he can feel the way his pleasure doubles, how it intensifies if he thinks about it too hard. How his hand doesn’t feel so large, how it feels so much softer than normal. How his breath sounds a little whinier, how the head of his cock feels so much more sensitive. He knows she’s feeling his pleasure as acutely as he is, knows it’s probably driving her crazy, but he can’t stop, he only wants more- more of this sensation, more of her, more of everything. It’s almost too much but he doesn’t stop, chasing his high with a practiced ease, biting his lip so his moans don’t escape him.

A thought occurs as he pulls his hand from his pants, trying hard not to get his release on his clothes. Usually he waves it away, off into nothingness without a second thought but now- if she can feel what he does then how far does that extend?

With a furtive glance around to make sure that truly nobody is watching, Loki’s tongue darts out, taking some of his cum into his mouth.

The taste of him explodes across her tongue.

It’s saltier than she remembers cum tasting, but fuck if it doesn’t just rile her up more. Fucking rat bastard- she knew she shouldn’t have confessed that she could feel the dirty things he did at night when he thought he was alone. What is wrong with him, demanding so much of her mental energy with such… mundane things when everything she’d ever worked for was at stake?

She has half a mind to go back over there and kick him, right at the base of his spine, right where she knows it’ll hurt the most (because that’s where it hurt the most for her) but then he flicks his tongue out again, and it’s all she can do to not shove her own hand down her own pants. She’s beyond such pedestrian things, hasn’t had to service herself like that in a while, not since she set herself off on this path.

Sylvie knows that he thinks that this is half her problem, why she’s so prickly, why she’s so downright mean sometimes. But there’s no time in her life for that, there’s only the drive forward, veering off track and into Loki has thrown things completely out of whack, and she doesn’t need to take anything else on. She doesn’t need to complicate things even more.

At least, that’s what she tells herself on nights like tonight, when there’s an electric current running through her veins, a hook behind her collarbone that pulls her in one specific direction. It won’t be worth it- he’ll look at her differently, he’ll expect too much, she won’t like him anymore after that. Her self loathing is too large and encompassing to let her mind rest even for a moment, and she thinks if she looks hard enough into his eyes that she’ll see that same loathing.

They’re the same person, the very thing that pulls them together drives her away, and that’s all there is to it, for her.

But, fuck, if she doesn’t want to give into it. He’s going at it again, somehow, and it’s so hard for her to resist the urge to just relax back into the sensation and let him carry her to completion without even trying. She can feel the way he’s taking his time now, stroking over his nipples, making hers pebble up in response. She bites her lip so hard it bleeds when he trails a delicate finger down his own throat. He’s not playing fair at all, she thinks, but that’s all she thinks before she finally caves.

She’ll show him who the true God of Mischief is.

One hand slides under her tunic, twisting at her nipple so hard it’s almost painful, and she thinks she can hear his tiny yelp of surprise off in the distance. It’s been so long that she almost has to learn her body all over again, but Loki has shown her so much of what he likes there’s a certain path that’s easier to follow. She pays close attention to one nipple, then the other, until she’s panting and she knows they’ll be sore in the morning- every brush of her clothes against them is going to send a thrill of pleasure through them both.

Carefully, quietly, she pulls her pants down just enough to be able to get a hand in between her thighs with no issues. She’s soaked through her underwear, she realizes when she presses her hand against her core. She slips a finger under them, trailing through her folds and collecting enough of her juices to lift her finger to her own lips, tracing them before sucking her finger clean. Her taste is better, she decides, much sweeter than Loki.

Once her finger is wet enough she slips her underwear down as well, rolling her fingers over her clit with an almost leisurely pace. She’s halfway there already, no need to rush anything at this point. This orgasm should be good enough to carry her on for another few decades if she plays her cards right. Pleasure shoots through her at the first brush of her fingers, an undercurrent she hasn’t indulged in years awakening like it was only yesterday. One circle becomes two, becomes three, becomes an easy rhythm that drives her slowly mad.

Her other hand has the more important job, opening her folds, one finger dipping into her cunt, testing the waters as it were. She’s tight, but so wet and needy that her finger slips in easily, teasingly until she needs to add another. Why doesn’t she do this more often? Her two fingers stroke in and out of her lazily, crooking upwards in search of a spot she knows will have her seeing stars, and Loki spilling all over his pants in shock. The thought of that- making him cum from nothing like a teenage boy drives her forward now.

It’s easy now, her fingers slip out as the others circle her clit. Slow and steady wins the race, as the saying goes, and it’s certainly holding true. Every little movement she makes pushes her closer and closer to the edge, and she’s so focused on her own pleasure she ignores the world around her. She ignores the strange connection she feels to Loki, the way it seems to be vibrating, pulsing with life. She ignores everything but the heat that builds in her, under her skin, the addicting way she needs to feel hersel cum.

She’s so close now, so close to giving in, biting back a sob as her hips rock forward, fucking herself down onto her fingers one last time as she finally, blissfully snaps. It’s overwhelming, nearly, her head just above water. Just enough to come down, just enough to feel it-

She feels, as easily as her own orgasm, the moment Loki’s self control finally snaps.

It’s so easy, almost absurdly so, to track her down. She hasn’t gone far, hidden in a bus (which gives him a second of pause- what the hell?), and for fuck’s sake her pants aren’t even back up.

“What the fuck,” It’s a statement, not a question as Sylvie scrambles to correct her clothing. She could do it with magic- hell, he could use his own to make it all disappear but that wouldn’t satisfy the pounding of his heart, the need to tear at her, to claim her.

“Minx,” Loki growls out, hands coming up to stop her own. He doesn’t feel so much larger than her when they’re standing face to face but now that he’s on top of her, it’s completely different. His hands cover hers entirely, muscles flexing as he grips the front of her shirt and just pulls. She know he doesn’t do it entirely on his own but the result is the same, the material gives way and her chest is bare before him. He doesn’t bother to kiss her, dipping his head down to wrap his lips around one nipple, pulling it between his teeth.

Sylvie hisses in response, hands coming up to tangle in his hair, and she means to push him away, she really does, but all that happens is she pulls him closer, a moan spilling from her lips, loud and wanton. His teeth come into play as he growls, switching to pay attention to the other pert bud, one hand holding him above her, the other gripping the waistband of her pants to shove them down even more, pulling back just enough to look up at her and demand, “Take them off.”

She’s got half a mind to deny him, but it feels so good that she obeys without question. Her pants don’t even come all the way off, just one leg comes free but Loki takes the moment to fit himself between them anyways. He moves lower, one leg thrown over his shoulder to hold her open for him. It would feel embarrassing if it was anybody else staring at her so intensely. Now, though?

“Get on with it, or get out!” That’s all it takes from her for him to cover her cunt with his mouth, tongue swirling over her sensitive bud, going further down to tease at her opening, like he’s trying to drink her down. She lets her eyes close, head drooping back as he takes the lead. His clever tongue returns to her clit, two of his fingers pressing into her, scissoring her open, preparing her. His fingers find that sweet spot inside of her so much easier, and she feels it when he finds it, her groan matching his. He works at her for what feels like forever, keeping her on the edge until she can decide if she wants to cry in frustration or take matters into her own hands.

Loki finally gives into what he wants, making his way up her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the other pushing his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock. It’s long, thick enough she knows it’ll feel good, with a flushed red tip and pre-cum dripping from it. He doesn’t bother to ask, just lines himself up with her and starts the slow push in.

Both of them exhale a breath neither realized they had been holding when his hips were flush with hers. If the way she feels, and the way tremors run through his body are any indication, this encounter won’t last long. And so, Loki doesn’t hesitate, pulling back until just the tip of him is still inside of her and slamming back in, so hard she’ll feel it for days, and he’ll feel it for longer. It’s a brutal pace, him trying to carve out a piece of her for himself, to write his name in as many ways and shapes and forms on her until she finally gives into what he knows.

He fucks her like it’s a fight, and sucks a bruise on her neck where everyone will see just for the hell of it.

She, in turn, clenches around him just to watch his hips stutter and drags her nails down his back just to watch his pupils dilate.

It’s give and take, push and pull, two halves that are one.

There’s only their moans, the quiet slap of flesh upon flesh in the small space. The others might know what they’re doing, but Loki can’t find it in himself to care, not when Sylvie is making that face, not when her body feels so good. He has to keep fucking her, has to feel her cum on his cock because he’ll go crazy if he doesn’t.

“Please,” One of them gasps out, but neither can tell who. One of Sylvie’s hands snakes between their bodies, rubbing quick, harsh circles around her clit and that’s it for her- she’s cumming again, almost weeping from how good it feels, how complete she is, shuddering and shaking in his arms.

Loki doesn’t last much longer, after her, and the feeling does overwhelm him. He can’t tell where his pleasure ends and hers begin, but maybe it’s the same thing, in the end. He cums deep in her, unable to move back for even a moment. It’s too much, like a punch to the gut, and when it’s finally over he’s panting, breathing heavily like he’s been through battle. He feels like he’s been claimed, all while he thought he was doing the conquering.

Their eyes finally meet, but whatever Sylvie sees in his, she doesn’t like, flinching back away from him like she’s been struck. Something cold claws its way into his chest, making a home there despite how badly he tries to ignore it. He pulls his softening cock out of her with a soft hiss, oversensitive as hell from being with her.

They right their clothes in silence, neither of them looking at the other, though he can feel the way tension rolls off her shoulder in waves.

He doesn’t bother to look back as he leaves.

There’s only their way forward, into glorious purpose.

#sylki #loki x sylvie #loki smut #sylki smut

[ktheist]

Can I request Tsundere!Yoongi from sentence starters fluff 3. “Have you seen my hoodie?” “Nooo.” “You’re wearing it, aren’t you?” Thank you! 🥰

“have you seen my hoodie?”

“no...”

“you’re wearing it aren’t you?

muses. human tsundere!yoongi x cat hybrid!reader

warning: implied smut

note. this is also posted on my other blog because it wasn’t showing up on searches. i’m posting this here as well as a formality!

x

are all humans this odd?

min yoongi gazed at you like you’ve got the most magnificent horns in the kingdom. silly, cats don’t have horns. minotaurs do.

you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.

and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.

this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.

you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.

in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.

min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.

“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.

but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.

“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.

what is he?

“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.

“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-

“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.

“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”

the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.

“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”

you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.

“th-thanks, i guess.”

“you’re welcome.” you grin.

x

“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.

ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.

“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.

he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.

is it metal?

metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.

you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.

“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.

“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.

he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”

“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.

you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.

“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.

it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.

you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”

“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”

when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.

x

min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.

you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.

“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.

you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.

he tastes divine but he must feel better.

you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”

and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.

do all human dicks feel this good?

yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.

“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.

“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.

“i wanna touch you too.”

and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.

but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.

you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”

x

humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.

but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.

“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.

he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.

other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.

“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”

yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.

“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.

“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”

“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.

x

ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.

cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.

as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.

“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”

“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”

“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”

“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.

your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.

“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.

she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.

“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.

she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”

and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.

“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.

“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.

you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”

x

humans are odd.

min yoongi especially so.

he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.

your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.

oh well, at least it isn’t horns.

then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.

“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.

you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”

yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.

and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.

you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.

it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.

“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.

the bright red one with a skull at the back.

you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”

a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”

“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.

“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”

“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.

you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.

“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.

he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”

tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.

“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.

humans are odd.

min yoongi, especially so.

x

note. reminder that this drabble is also up on my other blog!

#yoongi fic #bts fic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts yoongi #yoongi scenario #bts scenarios #bts smut #yoongi smut #yoongi scenarios #yoongi x reader #bts x reader #bts scenario #drabble game 1

[zephyoongist]

“have you seen my hoodie?”

“no...”

“you’re wearing it aren’t you?

warning: implied smut

x

are all humans this odd?

min yoongi gazed at you like you’ve got the most magnificent horns in the kingdom. silly, cats don’t have horns. minotaurs do.

you’ve met a few on your journey to find a mate. they’re not very nice. their heads are too big for their little feet. their dicks are big though. not that they’ll get anywhere with that kind of personality.

and you say journey but actually, you venture a little beyond the borders of the felidae’s territory because all the males tend to go for your elder sisters, leaving you with nothing but your fingerpads to get you through your heat.

this year, you’ve decided to find yourself another species, a different breed. white lions are too possessive, stallions tend to mate with too many, songbirds are get attached too easily and you can’t kiss vipers without being intoxicated on their essences.

you keep walking, deep in thoughts as the trees you pass by start looking the exact same. before you know it, the forest line cedes and the blades of grass that caress your soles have turned to hard, solid earth.

in front of you, stands a boy - your nose crinkles - no, at first sight, those sleepy eyes and slightly puckered lips look like that of a boy’s but this- this person without any distinct feature to identify his breed, is definitely a man.

min yoongi is a man in every sense of instinct.

“wh-what are you doing?” that’s when his droopy eyes come to life, and as you said, as if you bear two magnificent horns on your head.

but he’s not looking at your head. he’s looking at your chest.

“oof!” you breathe out at the soft material that lands on your face, the scent engulfing you smells strongly of him.

what is he?

“w-wear that,” his voice trembles but you’re more interested in this fur-like material he’s telling you to wear. it has one big hole and three smaller ones.

“fuck’s sake, all i wanted was some mushrooms for dinner,” odd. yoongi, he-

“do all your kinds speak to yourselves?” you ask once your ears pop out of one of the holes and then your head.

“don’t your kinds?” he answers, sighing before crossing the distance between you and him and placing a hand on top of your head, “you’re wearing it wrong. don’t you hybrids have clothes?”

the world goes dark for the briefest moment as you feel the material - clothes, he says? - shift around and finally gets pulled over your head. the hole is much larger and comfier around your neck.

“it’s warm,” you hum, rubbing your cheek against the material on your shoulder, “it smells good too. it smells like you.”

you’re not sure why but his species get red especially on his cheeks and ears.

“th-thanks, i guess.”

“you’re welcome.” you grin.

x

“so why were you walking around in the forest owned by humans?” yoongi asks when he closes the movable plank that’s attached to his cube-looking cave. it’s well carved.

ah, so the journey you initially set out has lead you far beyond the felidae territory.

“are you a human?” you answer his question with another question.

he doesn’t seem to care and instead starts making a fire and setting up shiny containers on the fire. you expect him to start cursing and looking distressed again when the container melts - are all humans this stupid? - but the container remains intact in its natural form.

is it metal?

metal is the only thing that can withstand fire but the pantheras tend to keep the those for themselves to make arrowheads.

you shiver at the remembrance of those golden eyes. the pantheras may have been part of the fedilaes but they’ve long since abandoned their origins, claiming that they were more superior.

“you can have some mushroom soup and leave, i’m sure a kid like you can find her way home,” he has a similar material - clothes - that and put it on while you were deep in your thoughts.

“i’m not a kid - well, i haven’t mated yet, but i’m not a kid,” you say.

he laughs. it’s the kind of laugh that those arrogant minatours do but he’s actually cute so you’ll let it slide, “yeah? so how old are you?”

“in fidelae years, twenty-three,” you say, bringing your legs to your chest under the ‘clothes’ and hugging yourself, enjoying the softness of the material until a loud clang reverberates from where he is.

you’re on your feet in an instant, padding towards where the human male is, cupping his hand and gazing down at it with a sort of grimace.

“give it to me,” you say, gently prying his uninjured hand off and directing his finger to your lips.

it takes a few seconds for the blood to stop flowing from the cut, when it does, you release his finger, giving it a few licks before looking up at yoongi who’s face has turned beet red yet again.

you pick up the scent of his arousal as he looks again, muttering a “th-thanks, but you shouldn’t do that to other people - not even males of your kind, got it?”

“yoongi,” you finally say his name, fingers tugging on the hem of his ‘clothes’, “if you don’t want me to treat other males like that, then take me. make me yours.”

when he twists his porcelain neck to face you - he looks like all the blood in his body is rushing to his head. it’s a surprise that he hasn’t exploded. but you guess, as he cups your cheek in his hands, the trace of blood from the cut brushing against your skin and crashes his lips on yours - he explodes in a different way.

x

min yoongi tastes divine. like the dew drop of first light after the blue moon. he tastes different from you.

you might have been a little curious and decided to lick your juice coated fingers after you’d taken care of yourself.

“y-your teeth-” he stammers, propping his elbows on the thing he calls bed as he looks at you with the most adorable lust-filled gaze.

you ran your tongue over your canines. well, they never hurt you but they’re still pretty sharp. either way, you’ve licked him enough to know just how good he tastes like.

he tastes divine but he must feel better.

you grin, traces of your excitement pouring over his hardened dick as you stand over it on your knees, “thank you for accepting me as your mate for this year!”

and then you take him all the way to the hilt. the pent up frustrations from all those years you’ve lost to your sisters when it comes to finding a mate blooms in your core and spreads all over your body like sweet, sweet venom.

do all human dicks feel this good?

yoongi’s making the prettiest sound with that pretty face of his as you bounce on his dick. and he lets you do whatever you want. you heard from your sisters that the males of your kin have too big of an ego to let the females take the lead.

“take the hoodie off,” yoongi tugs on the hem of your own clothes.

“why? it’s so comfy!” you whine but know that you’d succumb those pretty pink lips and those clouded eyes anyway.

“i wanna touch you too.”

and so the clothes -hoodie - comes off. and all of a sudden, you’re the shy little kitten that’s hiding her face in her hands as the human male teases your erect nipples. then he pulls you lower until his mouth traps your nipple and his other hand starts coaxing your hips to move again - you’re not sure why or when you stopped.

but you’ve shed off some of the shyness as your bodies mold together into one and an unfamiliar yet familiar spasms of climax shoots through your body.

you end up reaching for the hoodie despite yoongi’s complaints - something about “can’t be naked alone”. he declines your offer to help him into his own hoodie and opts for wrapping his arms around you, his chin on the top of your head and his jawline brushing against the side of your ears, “i’ll keep warm like this.”

x

humans may be odd but they’ve got good stamina. every waking moment of your and yoongi’s lives, you both spend them tangled in his bed or cuddled up on his couch - sometimes you end up on the floor, and that’s nice too because yoongi lends you his arm as a pillow while you cuddle up to him.

but lately, something seems to be bothering him and you find out why on the last day of your heat.

“you thanked me for being your mate for this year... do you change mates every year?” he’s staring at the ceiling with a sort of thoughtfulness that’s never usually there.

he’s either sleepy or horny most of the time.

other times he gets up to cook for the two of you.

“we’re encouraged to look for different mates in order to find the strongest that we can use to bear children with and continue the royal bloodline but the nobles and below don’t need to try so hard to find mates. they usually stay with their first mate.”

yoongi’s thoughtful hum vibrates under your fingerpads that lie on his chest - you enjoy feeling the different patterns of his heartbeat.

“wait... are you a royal?” his wide eyes gaze into you like the first time you met, as if you’ve grown horns on your head.

“my father is amun, the conqueror of the kingdom,” you nod, “but since i’m the youngest, the pressure to procreate isn’t that big, i doubt anyone notices i’ve been away for three months. i should probably go back.”

“yeah,” he looks like he’s about to cry any moment, “you should,” but he turns away before you can say anything.

x

ever since yesterday, yoongi’s been acting odd.

cold and distant, as if you’re both strangers living under the same roof. you want to wait until he wakes up to tell him goodbye but it’s a few hours past first light and your guardians, having been lifted from their heat, may be searching high and low for you. so you slip out of yoongi’s bed and out of the plank - door.

as you thought, jennie and lisa were on the verge of crying and going to your father to offer their heads for failing to find out their master’s whareabouts.

“my lady,” jennie nose crinkles as she takes repeated whiffs of your scent, “this scent- it doesn’t belong to a felidae.”

“did you mate with a pathera?” lisa’s round eyes almost pop out of their sockets.

you giggle before bringing your index finger to your lips, “shh, don’t tell father but- he’s a human.”

“a-a human?” jennie whispers under her breath, “my lady, you know what they say about humans! th-they’re like gods! they have the purest forms without tails or thorns on their body!”

“i know, that’s why you two must keep it a secret.” you say but the moment you walk down the pillars leading to the throne, you know everyone can smell the scent of yoongi on you.

your sisters’ alarmed gazes doesn’t go past you but you take your spot on the far end of the throne anyway.

“___ - you- who was your mate?” your sister, agatha, asks.

she’s been rubbing the fact that she’s had more mates than your years of living.

“why should i tell you?” you shoot her a victorious grin.

she huffs, displeased, “wait until father knows about this.”

and as if on cue, the horn begins to blow and silence settles all over the throne as a beast larger than two- no, three felidaes in their beast forms combined, struts down the pillared isle, his steps light and graceful as is his transformation as the beast gets on two paws and takes the remaining of his steps on his two feet.

“felidaes, thank you for gathering here on this wonderful day after yet another successful mating season. i look forward welcoming new cubs to our prides,” he announces.

“and to ___, my youngest, when will i be able to meet this human mate of yours?” he turns to you, pride laced around his words as agatha and the rest of the people’s eyes widen at the word ‘human’.

you giggle, feeling the blood rushing to your face - this must have been how yoongi felt every time his face goes red, “father, you know how humans are different from us. please give us more time.”

x

humans are odd.

min yoongi especially so.

he acts like nothing’s changed from the time you were living with him to the time you’ve left him. it may have been a short period - has it been a month? - of running away from the ladies that try to pry the story of you and your human mate and the males that sudden have their attention turned to you, trying to court you with offerings of the ancient relics and deepest colored gems.

your tail sways over the ledge of the window as you watch the human male set walk pass you and set up the table before going back to the kitchen only to stop midway. as if he’s seen a ghost.

oh well, at least it isn’t horns.

then he slowly turns to you with eyes round and awake - shocked and disbelieved, even.

“____, y-you came back?” he stammers out.

you grin, hopping off the ledge and bounding right into his arms, your own wrapped around his neck whilst your naked breasts press up against his chest, “i missed your hoodie, so i came back.”

yoongi looks like he’s about to scold you and cry at the same time, but he does neither. instead, he cups your cheeks in his hands and kisses you like he’s never had a drop of water since the day you left.

and you kiss back, savoring the taste of your human mate whom you’ve chosen to spend your whole life with.

you spend your days cuddled together in his sheets like you did before except you’re not licking his neck with every chance you get - it’s the part where he smells most divine besides his dick.

it turns out a human’s heat is all year round. during winter, his hand slips under the hoodie and touches your lower lips. during summer, he keeps trying to take off the hoodie. in autumn and spring, he doesn’t mind the hoodie as much. but you suppose you can’t be hogging all of them at once.

“have you seen my hoodie?” he means the one he claims to be his and is supposed to be steal-proof.

the bright red one with a skull at the back.

you feel your ears perking at the word, thankfully the hood’s covering your head, “no...”

a good few seconds pass without yoongi saying anything, before he sighs, “you’re wearing it, aren’t you?”

underneath your black hoodie, a piece of bright red peeks from the neckline. so you peek up at the human male, laughing sheepishly, “it’s just so comfy and it smells like you...”

“i should start charging you for fees,” he plants his hands on either sides of you, resting his forehead on yours as he smirks deviously.

“f-fees?” you laugh, “w-well, the kingdom is filled with minerals you humans seem to love.”

“pay up with your body,” there’s a glint in his eyes - the kind that used to get buried beneath blushed skin and shyly closed eyes.

you feel your ears perking up, your tail swaying behind you as you tilt your head in just the right angle to kiss his lips. when you pull away, his face is glowing beet red.

“okay, i paid my dues, right?” you shoot him one of your smiles.

he looks like he has more to say, disappointed even, but he settles with a “y-yeah.”

tugging on his hand and swiftly pulling him down onto the bed, cradling his waist. his face looks like it’s about to explode. you giggle.

“you- you’re teasing me,” his forehead creases and he looks like he’s about to kill you and kiss you at the same time.

humans are odd.

min yoongi, especially so.

x

note. a repost from my other blog.

#bts fic #yoongi fic #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #bts smut #bts scenarios #yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #bts imagines #bts x you #yoongi x you #shortings

[bleulone]

i love your analysis so much! i have a question as well, like, how do you envision polin's sex scenes ? thanks for your answer (:

    Hey! Thank you very much :)) I have no idea if they are that even good but I’m happy you like them. It’s just my brain tending to produce some iNsIGhiTfUL analyses though they usually end up drowned under a huge wave of stupidity and horrid spelling/grammatical mistakes XD. So, about Penelope and Colin’ sex scenes, I guess we’re getting spicy in this house 🌶. I mean, I don’t blame you. Who’s not hot for Polin ?! The steamy Polin hours have already begun and they’re legit challenging my patience. (Be still my Polin heart, be still).

   Okay, without further ado, let’s talk about sex baby, shall we ? It’s a pretty long answer/meta so bear with me.

    I don’t know if you’ve read Romancing Mister Bridgerton, but a quick reminder (for those who haven’t... yet), there are a bunch of iconic steamy scenes that I’m dying to watch on screen. First we have the famous “thank you” scene where Penelope, now a 28 year-old spinster, asks Colin to kiss her because she doesn’t want to die without having been kissed... then ends up thanking him— which happens to be humiliating for our 33 year-old boy because he thinks that she thinks he did it out of pity while he absolutely did not. The man definitely felt butterflies in his stomach... and in other places as well lol. We also have the ICONIC carriage scene where Colin gives Pen’s generous bosoms™ the attention they deserve. This is followed by his proposal. Later on, after the announcement of their engagement, there’s a pretty hot make-out scene on Lady Violet’s sofa. Finally, we have their first time in Colin’s bedroom, after sneaking out of their own engagement party... which leads Colin to push the wedding date forward. At this point, I just love their horniness, especially Colin’s who’s just so freaking amazed by Penelope for more than 300 pages straight (duh! who isn’t ???).

    When you say envision, I suppose you mainly refer to the way those scenes will be filmed right ? I’m afraid I don’t have an advanced knowledge in film-making but let me start by telling you what elements need to be depicted. I would love Shonda and Chris to capture the real essence of our boos’ feelings : the yearning, the love, the respect and the guilt (specifically on Colin’s side) in their eyes. The more we move forward throughout the seasons, the more we see different layers of the perceptions of they have of each other, going from a childish idealization/immature ignorance to a sudden realization. A mature one. Penelope goes beyond the facade of the charming devil-may-care guy to meet the seriousness and temper of her significant other. Meanwhile Colin discovers how confident, powerful and attractive this woman is and always has been. It echoes what I’ve written about the importance of the gaze in Polin’s love story in this meta. By the time season 4 hits, man... their heart eyes and eye-fucking will jump OUT XD, all fibers of their beings, burning with need. The fact that this evolution took literally years is very emotionally painful, which is why I find it important to keep the slowness aspect of their relationship before and during their love making. I’m really looking forward a slow build-up toward their intimacy. It would differ from Daphne and Simon who merely shared one hell of a kiss in Lady Trowbridge’s garden then shared their sexy times after they married or Anthony and Siena’s rough sex... In fact, there’s a certain (sweet) ardent tenderness in Polin I like due to the fact that they’re slowly (re)discovering each other, as adults. Since they were both introduced in season 1, the audience will have all the time in the world to notice numerous evidences of the many natures of love they have for one another : from an affectionate and friendly love to a more carnal and enduring one.

    Okay so, in terms of filming, with Netflix’s Bridgerton being a show which promotes the female gaze, it wouldn’t be that much of a surprise watching those sex scenes being shot from Penelope’s perspective, like it was the case with Daphne in the first installment of the series. Most of the time, sex scenes in Historical Romance are not gratuitous. Their presence serve an important purpose in a hero/heroine’s journey. In Penelope’s case, they’re here to help her learn to embrace and love herself. In other words, sexuality is synonym of freedom. I don’t know if they’ll show a lot of skin, but I won’t be complaining considering the fact that we’ll have the chance to get a chief kiss treat on screen : a plus size woman in a major successful Netflix period drama getting a love story as romantic and steamy as other more “fit” female characters. No, your weight doesn’t prevent you from being desirable at all. As far as I’m concerned, I haven’t watched a plus-size female character portrayed as an attractive protagonist in a period drama (please if you have, let me know, I can be wrong). Having a beautiful half bare curvy body like Nicola’s being equally filmed like numerous slim actresses will be so inspiring and powerful to watch, especially for (young) women who struggle, like Penelope, to love their body shape which, to them, doesn’t “fit” the “beauty standards”. By showing her female gaze and portraying her as seductive, Pen’s “supposed” imperfections transform themselves into mighty assets, loved and worshipped by our dashing Mister Bridgerton. That’s body positivity at its finest darling ;).

    It will be deliciously erotic watching the undressing process being exquisitely slow, garment by garment, while their gaze are all heated and hungry. Their sex/make-out scenes should be tender and passionate, sweet and raw. The lightning, colored by a dark blood orange yellow or a blue depending the locations^^. Moreover, the depiction of the exploration of Penelope’s desire can translate itself thanks to multiple close ups. For instance, I can imagine a few ones on Pen’s fingers gently roaming over the smooth skin of Colin’s firm chest and back/touching his hair right after he removed his shirt. And a disheveled Colin letting his hands and lips making a journey of their own, mapping, conquering the alluring unknown territory that is her gorgeous voluptuous body... kissing her on the places he knows oh too well will give her pleasure (is this me wanting him to go down on her?— um yeah I sure hope it IS! If he doesn’t, trust me imma riot... AGAIN). Even a close up on her face while Colin is performing his addictively pleasing torment will be a marvelous proof of the female gaze. By the way, why not even adding a post-coital scene after their first time ? I can picture Penelope waking up first and contemplate her handsome soon-to-be husband. She’d bring her hand to his face and let it travel all around his forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his neck and let it rest on his heart— making sure that what she’s just experience was real... obviously, Colin will wake up in the process and he’ll take this as his cue to go for another round of sexy times under the sheets.

   Showing Pen reaction is essential according to me because she was stuck with the idea that she would never experience the luxury of being loved, giving pleasure nor receiving it... she ended up being happily wrong. Throughout her multiple intimate encounters with Colin, I want her to progressively realizes that she can be an active partner. In the carriage, she knew she had an effect on him, but it’s not until their first time that she actually realizes it. Hence the reason why I WANT the mirror’s introduction in one of their sex scenes. Here’s as a little reminder an excerpt from chapter 18 :

“I want to see you sitting up," he groaned, "so I can see them full and lovely and large [about Pen’s breasts]. And then I want to crawl behind you and cup you." His lips found her ear and his voice dropped to a whisper. "And I want to do it in front of a mirror."

“Now?” she squeaked.

He seemed to consider that for a moment, then shook his head. "Later," he said, and then repeated it in a rather resolute tone. "Later.”

   It would be such a shame if the show doesn’t use the incredible potential of this object (/kink). I mean, the symbolism is pretty clear. Penelope has always fled her “ugly” reflection but it seems like Colin wants to show the real her, the beauty that holds every single inch her alabaster skin and the effects they have on him. Thus, I would love to watch a scene where Colin just praises the alluring goddess and siren that is Penelope Featherington. Just imagine! Just IMAGINE the power of this scene : a shirtless Colin sitting behind her on a bed, meeting her gaze in the mirror, his lips touching her right ear, biting and licking the lobe sometimes, whispering all kinda of dirty yet poetic words to her while letting his hands caress her thighs, her hips, her arms, her lovely bosoms™... oof. At the same time, a wonderful and harmonic instrumental music will play in the background and match the melodic partition of shudders, breathes and moans let out by our lovers. I can imagine Luke inspiring himself from his performance in the 2019 short film, Youth In Bed. The way he conveyed the awe and the yearning on his face, in his eyes with his mouth slightly open when he knelt before his partner Shun Yin was just captivating and— and so Colin! I cannot help but bring myself to picture Ethan, the character he played in YIB, in a Polin steamy scene. I cannot unsee this anymore jsksk. I mean, all this gifset radiates this book4chapter18!Colin, you cannot tell me otherwise!

    Also, I would love Shonda and Chris to keep Pen and Colin’s cute/emotional pillow talk. One thing I really love in JQ’s books is the concern she gives to her male protagonists about potentially hurting their partner during the act of penetration. Colin is a rake, and what his experience with women taught him is that he needs to be very gentle with the love of his life. It was so adorable seeing him not wanting to harm her and asking her to tell him if he does anything she doesn’t like 🥺. Plus, before actually doing it, Colin and Penelope shared a few kisses and just laid down side by side, confessing their love. Though our boy kept feeling guilty about not returning her love after all these years. He desires nothing but to make up for the lost time and show his love and desire during this special intimate moment. I hope they’ll keep all of chapter 18’s dialogue. It’s just so telling of our boos’ feelings, you see.

    All in all, I can’t wait to watch those Polin steamy scenes. As much as I may sound crazy, I want them after two other seasons of pure pining and yearning in order to have a very good payoff. I’m not an expert on depicting intimacy on screen, but I loved so far what Lizzy Talbot, the intimacy coordinator who worked on the show, have done in season 1. Sex scenes in Bridgerton seem very real and dive you in the intimacy of the moment, leaving you all flustered and hot. So probs to her! I have faith in her work and have no doubts about what her and the directors will serve us in future seasons. Though, in the end, I think it’s mostly up to the actors, Nicola and Luke, to see if they’re comfortable filming sex scenes.

    If you guys have any suggestions or wishes for those steamy polin scenes, please do share them :) by commenting on this post or by sending me asks! I’d love reading your thoughts/take on this very important matter ;)) 

#bleulone answers #meta and gush #polin #colin x penelope #bridgerton #colin bridgerton #penelope featherington #polin meta #ask #anon #luke newton #julia quinn #nicola coughlan

[thewhumperinwhite]

And Then You Kill Me (part 5)

story masterpost

TW for: referenced dubcon; guilt and self-hatred; suicidal behavior; angst and misunderstandings; under-negotiated sexual behavior. Nothing directly nsfw here but it is very much The Morning After.

@whumpitywhumpwhump @favwhumpstuff

----

Usually, the morning after he eats, Karim sits on the roof with a cup of coffee and watches the sun rise.

It’s half indulgence and half penance. He can’t actually drink the coffee, which makes the smell exactly halfway between comfort and torture. And, depending on the…volume, he guesses, of the person he’s fed from, he can only stand the sun for about an hour on a clear day. Though sometimes he stays longer than that, to feel it prickle and burn against his skin. It depends on how much he feels like a thief, how much his mouth still tastes like lies.

This morning, of course, is different.

On the one hand, he isn’t as full as he normally is. It’s cloudy out, but he still needs the sunglasses he borrowed from Diana ages ago, that take up half his face; and he pulls a cap down low over his ears and forehead, too, for good measure.

On the other hand, he didn’t say a thing last night that wasn’t true, and that feels so good he’s almost drunk on it.

There’s warmth in his belly that’s more than blood.

Karim leans forward, cradling the still-hot mug against his chest, and squints down at the street below him. There’s a little shop on the corner, where he goes for batteries sometimes; they sell some simple groceries. Karim’s never had a reason to buy them before. He can’t think of any reason he’d like better than this.

----

Art wakes up with a screaming headache and absolutely no idea where he is.

Which. What he’s learning—what it feels like it’s taking him forever to learn—is that no matter how many times you wake up naked on someone else’s couch and don’t remember how you got there, it never gets easier or better.

And then he does remember. And that’s much worse.

----

Karim pauses inside the door, in the act of setting down the single bag of food and drink he’s bought. He’s just realized that orange juice belongs in the refrigerator, and he doesn’t actually have one of those. He doesn’t eat, and it hadn’t seemed worth the electricity.

Possibly the boy can drink it all in one go? It’s been so long since Karim’s drunk anything that comes out of a bottle, he isn’t actually sure how much—

He’s still standing there, in the doorway, holding Diana’s sunglasses in one hand and the carton in the other, and then a lamp hits him in the side of his head.

It doesn’t hit hard enough to rock him backward, but it does crack in half, and land at his feet in three big pieces.

Karim stares for a moment, down at the wreckage, and then up to the bathroom doorway, where the boy he picked up from the docks is standing. He’s wearing his sweatshirt again, and he’s trembling.

“What was that for?” says Karim. The boy’s face twists.

“We had a deal,” the boy says, and that’s when Karim realizes that the boy is shaking because he’s very, very angry.

“…Huh?” Karim says. It’s the wrong answer, apparently; the boy makes an unintelligible noise and lunges for a ceramic vase sitting on a nearby end table. Karim scrambles to set the orange juice and sunglasses down (Diana likes these glasses, and she’s terrifying when she’s angry) and throw his hands up in surrender. “Woah—Hey wait!” The boy pauses, holding the vase like a grenade. He’s swaying slightly under its weight. Presumably like someone who’s lost about a liter and a half of blood. Karim kind of can’t believe he’s even on his feet right now.

“…I bought you some orange juice,” Karim says, hesitantly. “The internet says it’s good for—”

The boy throws the vase.

“Oh my god!” Karim says, ducking into the kitchen, more by instinct than any actual fear of injury. (He is full of blood and almost indestructible; and also the boy aims like someone who has lost thirty percent of their blood by volume.) “What is your problem?”

The boy gapes at Karim, and has to grab the bathroom doorway to steady himself.

“My problem,” he gasps, sounding like he wants to shout it but is too out of breath. “Did I fucking stutter last night, you asshole?” He presses his hand to his temple and closes his eyes; his head must feel like a rotten melon by now. “What part of dead by sunrise was too fucking complicated for you?”

Karim blinks at the boy. Feels borrowed blood rise into his cheeks.

“Oh, that,” Karim says. “I, um…” He has no idea what to say. “…Sorry?”

His apology—which is half-hearted, admittedly; for once it hadn’t even occurred to him to feel guilty about this—hits the boy like a blow to the stomach, and the boy covers his face with one hand and slides down the bathroom doorframe until he’s sitting in a little heap on the floor. Wearing his still-damp sweatshirt and nothing else, his bare legs splayed out to either side. He looks—small, and less alive, and ah yes, there’s the guilt Karim has been missing.

“—so fucking stupid,” the boy mutters, into his hand.

Karim puts the juice down on the counter. He wants to move closer, but that cannot possibly be what the boy wants right now.

“God dammit,” the boy says, and he turns away from Karim, and climbs forward, easing himself back up to his feet against the wall. “Fuck this,” he says, and then Karim realizes he’s crawling-stumbling-falling toward the door, like he’s going to leave that way, swaying and half-naked.

“Woah,” Karim says, darting out to catch at the boy’s shoulder, “Hold on a s—”

“Don’t fucking touch me,” the boy spits, spinning away from Karim’s touch. His back is against the front door again, like it was when he opened up so sweet and easy under Karim’s mouth and hands—what, six hours ago? Less? The boy is incandescent with rage for a second, his eyes—they’re green, an ordinary alive-person green, shot through with brown, and achingly pretty—almost glowing with it, and then his face shutters like an empty house and he says, voice cold and precise, “Get out of my way.”

Karim hadn’t even realized he was in his way. But the door opens in, so the boy really can’t get out unless Karim moves. Karim holds his hands up instead, leaning back out of the boy’s space.

“Just—just wait a second, okay?” Karim says. He tries to pitch his voice as low and nonthreatening as possible, like he isn’t looming over the boy whether he wants to or not. “Let’s just—can we just talk about this for a second.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” the boy says. He’s supporting himself against the door, but if Karim didn’t already know he wouldn’t guess how unsteady on his feet the boy is; his voice is steady and flat and colder than Father’s basement in January. “It’s my own fault for being so fucking dumb and gullible, fair enough, glad that worked out for you, now back the fuck off.” That last part is said with so much sudden venom that Karim actually does stumble back a step without really meaning to.

“Gullible,” Karim repeats stupidly, like if he can understand just one word of what the boy is yelling at him this will all make sense suddenly. And then—suddenly—it does, and he gapes at the boy.

“Wait,” Karim says. “Do you—you think I was lying?” He almost expects the boy to deny it, except the boy is still giving him that same flat, blank look (with incomprehensible emotion underneath it, disgust and anger and maybe even hurt). “What—why on earth would I have—”

The boy looks at him. There are splotches of color in his cheeks, and his eyes are slightly too bright, and when Karim stares at him he tugs the hem of his sweatshirt down just a little farther, like he’s trying to cover his ass.

Karim takes a step back, dropping his hands to his sides.

“I wasn’t,” he says, nonsensically. “This is—Boy. I swear to you. I did not say a single thing last night that wasn’t true.”

There are big raised welts on either side of the boy’s throat, where Karim’s fangs went into him last night. The boy must have seen them, if he was in the bathroom; his reflection works just fine. They don’t look like hickeys or bruises or anything other than what they are. There’s no way the boy shouldn’t believe him, this one time when he only took what was given willingly, and not even all of that. There’s no way—

“Then explain it to me, asshole,” the boy says, and his voice is shaky with unshed tears. “Explain the world where everything you said is true, and I’m not dead yet.”

Karim wants—Karim wants. Karim wants to reach out and touch the boy. Karim wants to hold the boy gently, wants to wrap him up in something warm and safe until he tells him why he talks that way, why he wants to give his life—this thing he has that Karim doesn’t, that Karim won’t ever again—away so badly his voice trembles like that whenever he talks about it.

“It’s,” Karim says. His Father is always in despair about how bad he is with words. “Well, it’s just—I like you.”

Karim hasn’t told a lie in almost eight hours, now. This isn’t a lie, either.

The boy’s eyes go wide, surprise and then fear and then anger, and then without warning he dives down, flops onto his knees, grabs a shard of the shattered vase, and jerks it toward his own throat.

“No!” Karim grabs the boy’s wrist, too hard; it creaks alarmingly in his grasp, but the jagged ceramic piece falls from his hand and clatters to the ground. He wants to let go—the boy is far too still, his eyes too wide, and Karim already knows his wrist will bruise—but he can’t. There’s too much broken pottery and glass, and the boy is such a fragile thing.

The boy stares up at Karim. He is kneeling wide-eyed at Karim’s feet, and Karim can hear his shallow too-fast breath and his hummingbird heart, and it is almost more than he can bear.

The boy doesn’t scream, though; he doesn’t even call Karim a monster, or any of the other things Karim deserves. What he says, his voice tight, is, “They’ll find me,” and then, soft and desperate, meeting Karim’s light bulb eyes with his pretty dull alive ones, “Please.”

Karim doesn’t let go of the boy’s wrist. He gets carefully to his knees beside him, instead, meeting the boy’s gaze like it doesn’t even hurt.

“I’ve been killing in this city for nine years now,” he says, and there’s fear in the boy’s eyes, but still no fear of him. “They’ve never caught me.”

The boy’s eyes flicker. Karim has no idea with what. But this is the moment. He throws caution to the winds.

“Give me a week,” he says.

The boy stares at him.

“I like you,” he says again. The boy’s pounding heart hasn’t sped or slowed, so Karim keeps going. “You’re—I’ve never met anyone like you.” That’s true, like everything else he’s said, but he knows the boy won’t like it, so he presses ahead, fighting hard not to trip over his words. “I want to spend a week with you. Not to—we can do whatever you want. I won’t touch any way you don’t want me to. I know how to hide in this city better than anyone, no one will know where you are. And at the end of the week—” He swallows; he doesn’t want this to be a lie, but also the thought of it turns his stomach; he makes himself say it anyway. “And at the end of the week, I’ll kill you any way you ask me to. I promise.”

There’s a too-long moment of silence. The boy’s heart flutters painfully, and neither of them blink.

“…a week,” the boy says slowly, after an eternity.

Karim nods, maybe frantically.

The boy pulls his hand delicately out of Karim’s grip; Karim, useless heart pounding, lets him.

“For a week,” the boy says, “you’d better give me the flashiest murder scene in history.”

Karim grins, so hard it almost hurts his face. “Flashy,” he says, giddy and stupid. “I can do that.”

#and then you kill me #vampire whump #emotional whump #blood loss #suicidal whumpee #guilt and self hate #misunderstandings #the morning after #self destructive behavior #sexy vampires #whump #original whump #suicide tw

[southslates]

loving you is a losing game

@kanejweek day three: adventure (outer space) / kanej / pre-canon - one-shot - rated T / read on ao3! / 2076 words

Kaz doesn’t understand himself, his own convictions and the way his heart changes its beat next to Inej. Or rather, he does understand. He’s Dirtyhands, and that’s why he can never let his emotions slide out of the corner of his mind he keeps them hidden in and find a home in his mouth. There is no salvation left to spare for him; not in this life, not in the next. He doesn’t want salvation, anyway.

It's so hard to convince himself that’s true in moments like this. Inej is on her stomach next to him, her arm an inch away from his. Despite the way he finds air rising out of his lungs when his gaze loiters on her for too long, her skin disgusts him as much as any other. There are no exceptions to his special kind of hell. He would do so much to beat this illness of the mind, but there is nothing left for him to do.

“You said he’d be here by now,” he growls at her, keeping his face turned away from her hooded features, staring at the street and breathing in, and then out, keeping his mind and body at ease. He has a job to do—a vase to lift—and he cannot be distracted, he cannot be distracted, he cannot—

Kaz grits his teeth. He will not look at Inej and see the stars above illuminate her features in the most dangerous of ways, like a temptation. He cannot do this, he cannot do this, he remembers Imogen. He is Kaz Brekker and he has done so much to make himself a myth but this he cannot do. He has acknowledged this as his weakness.

And if it is his weakness, she is too, by extension. 

“Stoepker has been on time every day for the past week,” she says quietly. “It would just be unlucky. We should go back to the Slat, it’s too late now, anyway.”

Unlucky, it’s unlucky. Kaz had looked into the Emerald Palace through the roof while he and Inej had scaled the rooftops to lead them to the Stoepker residence and seen Petjer Stoepker playing at the tables, light in his eyes and a brunette on his arm. He’d known the man wouldn’t be here—he had downed far too many drinks to even fathom walking the stretch to his mansion in the dark. He and Inej needed Stoepker to come home so they could sneak into his upstairs safe in the moment in took him to deactivate the trip wires around his garden. The job wasn’t supposed to be hard.

They could have gone back to the Slat two hours ago, when the sun had just dipped below the wintery horizon. He could have sat at his desk and kept on going through the reports fucking Per Haskell kept delegating to him while Inej went down to spend time with Jesper or sat silently at his window.

But he hadn’t. He’d known Stoepker wouldn’t come back and yet he’d forced her to stay like this next to him, just a hand’s width apart on a freezing rooftop, silent, just so he could feel her presence next to him, just so he could be next to her and tempt himself, so he could turn to her and not his paperwork. He feels distinctly stupid, and something else blossoms in his chest. He sighs and slides off the roof. Inej follows, lithe and agile with her good legs.

“Back to the Slat,” she questions, and he nods. What else is there to do? There’s always more work. Not that he doesn’t enjoy his work, the brick-by-brick. He wants something more, but he doesn’t even know what that is.

He slides till the end of the roof and then grabs his cane next to him. He doesn’t trust himself to scale Ketterdam’s roof in the pitch-dark, especially the day after a snow. Kaz doesn’t need to break his other leg. Though Inej doesn’t have to, she joins him, feet touching the ground without noise to the ear. He can feel her steps reverberate through his chest. And then something else.

He turns to her in the dark, and he can feel the blush rise to her cheeks. “I’m a bit hungry,” she admits. “Nina said we could get waffles in the middle of night. I’m late to meet her, but Jesper has probably already told her we’re out.”

Of course he’s the monster, the boy with hands caked with blood who takes her away from her good friends—the sassy heartrender who can pull her close, the flirty sharpshooter who can kiss her cheek. Kaz is jealous of Nina and Jesper, and he knows why. He can and will have everything but what they have with Inej.

He doesn’t mean to say it. He means to let her go, to tell her to meet Nina, to erase his chapter in her night. It’s what he would do if he was a better man. Instead he says, “The Finch Inn serves hutspot into the night,” and gestures for her to follow him with a glare.

Kaz Brekker is a terrible man. He can give Inej nothing, but he wants to take so much regardless. It’s a strange sort of weakness that has him lead her to the first place he ate in Ketterdam, treasure to a newly minted orphan. Perhaps a small part of him wants to erase those memories he had with Jordie, write her smile and laugh and goodness into that crevice of his mind. He is such a terrible man.

/

Kaz takes kruge out of his pocket and accepts two bowls of hutspot, placing one in Inej’s hand. She winces when the bowl touches her with a small huff of air he wants to spend the rest of his life daydreaming about, and he takes it back. He can’t feel the heat through his gloves.

They walk outside of the inn. Kaz means to walk back to the Slat with her, but Inej side-eyes their surroundings closely before nodding him towards a small alley. He follows her—he follows nobody, he is his own person, not some sort of obedient dog—he follows her onto a rickety fire escape on the side of the building. Inej scales to the top and reaches to grab the bowls from his hand so he can regrip his cane properly.

She looks into his eyes for a moment, and keeps his face straight, cruel, he’s good at that. She is never disparaged from even his worse glares, and he makes the step up.

The roof of the Inn is a bit clunky, but he navigates himself upon it well enough. Inej is seated near the chimney, as though it is warm, and he drags himself on the other side of it. This is good. There are feet between them, and their hands do not touch as she passes him her bowl.

“Thank you,” she says to him as she takes a bite, stares into the distance of the sky. She is watching the Kerch stars, shining in this dark winter night, and he is watching her. He cannot stare at the heavens, lest he be reminded that the distance between the stars is the same as the space between him and everything he wants and can never have. Her.

Kaz says nothing, just takes a bite of his own hutspot. It’s warm, a nice contrast to the chill that he is now feeling keenly in his bad leg. He refuses to groan, simply stays silent as Inej stares off into the distance. He will not ask her to start a conversation, he cannot.

“My mother used to show me constellations,” she begins, his little Suli idealist, this girl with all her hope and her stories. She reminds him of a little boy who loved omelet stands, who didn’t understand the true evil of this city of greed. “They were clearer in Ravka, when the caravans stopped in the woods. They’re so hard to see here.”

He wants more. He wishes she would laugh, he doesn’t know why. “Ravka is heavily under-industrialized. It’s why in the long-term they’ll lose the war.”

She turns to glare at him, but he can tell it’s lacking severity. He knows when Inej is truly angry at him. He’s seen the look in her eyes when he raises his voice or kills too quickly. She knows he always has his reasons, so he doesn’t understand why she acts shocked every time. She cannot still have faith in him like her precious Suli constellations.

“You’re so grim, Kaz,” she complains. “They’re beautiful.”

“They’re lights in the sky,” he says, looking at her. “Made of small amounts of metal and gases. They are terrifying.”

“How do you know all these things?” Inej asks him. “You haven’t gone to university. You know about the stars and you do maths.”

“I learn myself,” he shrugs, gives her a truthful answer. “It comes easy.”

“You are infuriating. You and the way your mind works. Shevrati,” she calls him. He hopes that is affection under her voice. He has no idea where he stands with Inej, just that even he cannot fathom the depths of himself. The depths of his desire—

That is not a thought he will finish. It is not. “I could say the same about you and your saints,” he says.

Inej shifts up against the roof. “My mother once said the stars would lead me home.”

Something cruel wants to bite its way up through Kaz’s throat. The stars watched as you were taken on a slaver’s ship and at the Menagerie. Stop having faith in these stars, in these pretty words. They are meaningless, Inej. There is just you on your feet and your knives and your vengeance. That is all. He bites it down. Inej is not him, Inej is better than him. He cannot be anything for her, but he can be better than Dirtyhands.

“Keep your eyes on the stars, then,” he says, his mouth closing around his last bite, setting the plate next to him on the roof. “Perhaps they, of all things in this world, will be unpredictable.” His words bite with sarcasm, but they are not cruel.

Inej sets her own bowl down too. “Thank you,” she repeats again, and then turns to face him, that gaze which had been observing galaxies. “Do you know much about the stars?”

“I know they’re balls of gas. They’re nothing mythical, like your sun summoners and shadow summoners would have you think. If we got close, I’d think durasts could have their fun with them.”

“It’s nice to pretend,” she says with a flush of her cheeks. “You could pretend, Kaz.”

“Pretend what, Inej?” he doesn’t need to say her name but he does, hoping she doesn’t catch the way his mouth shapes her name, like a benediction. “Pretend like your prayers go to some mythical powers beyond the sky? There is nobody watching over me.”

“You’re wrong,” Inej says. “You could pretend that balls of light floating in the sky are sacred. What’s stopping you?”

“Presence of mind.”

“Sometimes I hate you,” Inej says, absentmindedly. He knows she is joking and he doesn’t know why that still stings. He cannot say the same back. He cannot even press a lie that Inej is not important to him to his lips. He is ridiculous.

“I paid for your dinner, Ghafa,” he says. She giggles a bit at that, laying against the chimney, and then fades off. He dares to look at her again and sees her leaning against the heat, her eyes half-closed in a strange smile.

“That you did, Kaz.” She says his name so often when he speaks. He’s not sure why—perhaps it’s something she does in Suli, and she is unused to Kerch language. He thinks about teaching her how to read on his floor almost a year ago, and he wants to kill into silence and cut himself out of this sky. He’s Kaz Brekker, he needs to be better than this.

They should go. He has work to do, she should meet Nina and Jesper. They should go, but they don’t. They sit on the Inn and stare at the stars in the distance together until the sun carves itself over the horizon and reminds Kaz that this cannot be his story.

#kanej #kanej week #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #grishaverse #shadow and bone

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

The Answer

Requested by: anonymous (“Congrats on reaching over 2.5k followers! I was wondering if I could request something with Joe trying to talk the reader out of doing something stupid, but in a funny way?”)

Summary: When Valentine’s Day turns unexpectedly stressful, your favorite coworker Joe Mazzello is there to offer moral support. I may have gotten a little carried away with this one, but it’s all in the spirit of the holiday! 😂 I hope you enjoy it. 💗

Warnings: Language. 

Word Count: 2.2k. 

You can find all my writing here!

Oh my god, this man is about to ask me to marry him.

You are suddenly aware of every immaterial detail, because this is the sort of night you’re supposed to remember forever. This is the sort of night, the sort of story, you’ll be retelling all your life: to parents, to friends, to overly-chatty hairstylists, to coworkers, to children, to grandchildren. The music is slow, sophisticated, French. The dress you’re wearing is lavender and just a stitch too tight in the ribs. The tablecloth is white, the flowers in the centerpiece ruby-red roses. The candlelight bathes Ryan’s face in hot, flickering gold. And he’s smiling, broadly, artfully, like he knows something you don’t. Like maybe he always will.

You’re trying to follow what he’s talking about, but you can’t. It’s some meandering summation of your last two years together: meeting at your mutual friend Sarah’s New Year’s Eve party, numbers tapped into each other’s iPhones, sushi and green tea, browsing through book stores, murky movie theaters and hands entwining on shared armrests, Fourth of July picnics where you socialized gamely with one another’s extended families, kisses that started out light and fleeting in the chilly lobbies of restaurants like this one and turned into hours spent in the rustling shadows of your bedroom. And although the details sometimes evade you, the arc of Ryan’s story is clear: that the journey was perfectly linear, every piece in place, every want and ritual accounted for. That the time has come for the inevitable conclusion.

He reaches across the table to take your hands in his. The last of your beef bourguignon lays unclaimed and forgotten in its bowl. Your appetite has vanished entirely.

“Pierre,” Ryan tells the moustached waiter, grinning triumphantly. “Could you bring out dessert now, please?”

You hear your chair squeal as you bolt to your feet. Your ankles wobble as you balance on your strappy, rather painful silver heels, the ones Ryan likes so much. “I’ll be right back,” you announce. You flash him a reassuring, innocent smile. You gesture apologetically to the wine and water glasses, like it’s all their fault. The perfect fall guys. How dare they interrupt this magical evening.

Ryan suspects nothing. Or—worse, far far worse—he doesn’t care. “Sure, baby. Take your time.”

You zigzag, rather unsteadily, around the restaurant tables—all those other nameless candle-lit couples reminiscing and giggling and feeding each other spoonfuls of quivering chocolate mousse—and crash through the restroom door. There are two college-aged girls touching up their makeup, stark and bone-white under the florescent lights, and they peer quizzically over at you. You take shelter in the nearest stall and lock the door.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.” You stare at the wall, waiting for a sign. There’s an artsy black-and-white picture of the Eiffel Tower hanging there. Another trivial detail to one day tell your grandchildren about. “Oh my god,” you moan again.

You root through your purse, pull out your iPhone, and find Joe Mazzello in your contacts. You’ve never called him before; you have his number solely in case of work-related emergencies. But your fingers are moving swiftly, almost autonomically; and time is rolling irrevocably forward like a freight train.

“This is clearly a pocket dial,” Joe says as soon as he answers. “There’s no way you’re thinking about me and my subpar sandwich-making abilities on Valentine’s Day.” He’s right about his sandwich skills; they’re honestly abysmal. He’s the worst employee at Quiznos. He always spills the honey mustard everywhere. You, on the other hand, take great pride in your consistently neat, uniform application of condiments. But, nevertheless, Joe is your favorite coworker. Your favorite coworker by a margin that ships could sail through like a drawbridge.

“Help,” you croak.

“Uh...?” Joe’s voice changes. He’s not exactly serious yet—you’re not really sure what a serious Joe Mazzello would even sound like—but he’s definitely apprehensive. “Are you locked in a trunk somewhere...?”

“Wait, no, sorry. I’m not being kidnapped. I’m at L’amour Vrai.”

“Oh, nice!” But he doesn’t sound that thrilled about it. “With Ryan, I’m assuming.”

“Yeah, therein lies the problem.”

Joe is confounded. “...Did he forget to bring you a massive teddy bear and a heart-shaped box of Ferrero Rocher, or...?”

“I think he’s going to ask me to marry him,” you say in a rush, breathlessly. “He’s been rambling about our relationship and being weird and sentimental all through dinner and I think dessert is going to be, like, a giant bowl of chocolate mousse with a ring hidden in the bottom or something and now I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“And you don’t even like chocolate mousse,” Joe notes.

“That’s not really the point, but yeah, true.”

“So what are you going to do?”

You don’t have an answer. You don’t even have threads of thoughts that could be woven into words. Because no matter how seamless and fated Ryan’s story of your relationship sounds, you feel that something is missing. You’ve always felt that way. And you’ve waited—patiently, undemandingly, faithfully—for that one last piece of surety to drop out of the sky and click into place for the past seven-hundred and forty-four days. You’ve waited for indelible magnetism, for that sensation of free-falling, for love; you’ve waited until you started to suspect those things didn’t exist at all except in fiction. But sometimes, just recently, you think you might be catching glimpses of them: in how Joe sends you a clandestine smirk when a customer is agonizing over whether they want cheddar or swiss, in how he invents new combinations of fountain drinks for you to taste and rank on a highly scientific ten-point scale (Cherry Coke-Dr. Pepper is the current champion at 8.5/10), in how he complains incessantly about having to close but will wipe down the same counter fifteen times while you count the money in the register so you don’t have to lock up alone. And those transitory glimpses are enough to show you exactly what a lifetime with Ryan would mean living without.

“You don’t want to say yes,” Joe realizes quietly. “You wouldn’t be freaking out and hyperventilating in the bathroom if you did.”

“I don’t think I can say no.”

Joe snorts. “Lady, this isn’t the sixteenth century. You’re not being traded to this guy for some cows or a military alliance or a duchy in Germany. You can always say no.”

“But we’re in the middle of this fancy restaurant and he’s got the staff in on it, and everyone is going to stare when he asks me, they’ll probably start clapping and making TikToks and I’m going to look like a total bitch if I don’t say yes.”

“Well, yeah,” Joe says, a little darkly. “That was probably the plan. To put you in a position where you felt like you didn’t have a choice.” And you recall that Joe doesn’t seem to like Ryan very much, hasn’t said a single nice thing about him in the six months that have passed since Joe joined the illustrious Quiznos team.

“Maybe I should say yes and then after tonight never speak to him again.”

“You’re...gonna ghost your fiancé? You legitimately think that’s a better plan?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s only going to get harder to back out as this thing picks up momentum. The families will get involved. There will be dress fittings, venue shopping, cake tasting...oh, wait, actually, don’t back out until after the cake tasting. And invite me.”

“I could fake my own death. Or enlist in the Peace Corps. I’ve always wanted to see Mongolia.”

“But then you’d have to give up your promising career in sandwich making.”

“They might have Quiznos in Mongolia.” You sigh, defeated. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t be bothering you with this. I’m definitely ruining your Valentine’s Day.”

“There’s not much to ruin, honestly. I’m re-watching Tiger King and eating my weight in Skittles.”

Oh, right; Joe and his girlfriend Julie broke up last week. And come to think of it, despite the fact that you don’t have any identifiable reason to feel this way, you’ve never really liked Julie either. “I’ll gladly trade you.”

“I mean, sure, I fucking love chocolate mousse. My apartment is only three blocks away. I can hurry over there and put on your dress and heels and earrings or whatever you’re wearing, but I feel like Ryan might catch on.”

You laugh, your first real, involuntary, jolting laugh of the day. “Genius. Let’s do it.”

“You can say no,” Joe tells you, seriously now. This, as it turns out, is what a serious Joe Mazzello sounds like: warm, concerned, measured, his typically frenetic energy temporarily wrangled. “If he asks you to marry him and you want to say no, you can say no.”

“Okay,” you reply, taking a deep breath, resolved.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. I’ll say no.”

“Cool.” Joe sounds pleased; proud, even.

“Alright. I’m gonna go. Thanks, Joe. Seriously. Thank you so much.”

“No problem. You can mop up my next honey mustard spill as a show of gratitude.”

“Deal,” you say with a smile, and then you hang up.

Waiting for you back at the table is the moustached waiter cheerfully playing a violin, Ryan’s luminous grin, and a glass chalice full of chocolate mousse. Jesus christ. Chocolate fucking mousse.

Ryan motions for you to take a bite. You obediently sit down, pick up your spoon with a quaking hand, dip it into the center of the chocolate mousse...and lift out a diamond ring. You unleash a gasp of horror that Ryan mistakes for—or, perhaps, is determined to believe is—elation.

Ryan plucks the ring off your spoon, wipes it clean with a red cloth napkin, and slips out of his chair to kneel at your feet. Blood is pounding frantically in your ears. Your courage has evaporated. Your legs feel numb, jellylike, boneless. How the hell are you going to walk out of here after you say no? How the hell are you going to say no at all?

Ryan is reciting some generic, Hallmark-card speech. The other restaurant patrons are beaming, clapping, already assuming your answer. Ryan asks you the question. Your trembling hand is now resting at the base of your flushed throat like a noose. Your words are ghosts.

“I...” you sputter. “I...um...”

“Go ahead,” Ryan says, nodding, smooth and undaunted. And suddenly you know that Joe was right; every single part of this was planned. Ryan turns to the crowd. “Aw, folks, give her a hand, she’s shy!”

And as they cheer and whistle encouragingly, as Ryan waits for your acquiescence, as your hope for those things you’ve only caught glimpses of begins to wither like autumn leaves, someone steps between you and Ryan and fills up the hollow, hungry space left by your silence. It’s Joe.

“No no no,” he tells Ryan. His voice is ostensibly matter-of-fact and yet formidable. “She’s not shy. She’s just trying to figure out her answer. And she doesn’t need some random strangers in a French restaurant to help her out with that.” Joe looks at you and raises his eyebrows. “Go ahead. Whenever you’re ready.”

“What the...?!” Ryan exclaims, his eyes shifting from you to Joe. The other patrons are extremely bewildered. The waiter’s violin playing screeches to a halt.

“No,” you say, your courage flooding back in, a slow smile igniting across your face.

Ryan doesn’t understand. “No...?”

“No. My answer is no. The past two years have been nice, but this is over now. I’m not right for you, Ryan. You’re not right for me either. And I think you know that. So goodbye.”

You stand, sling your purse over your shoulder, and follow Joe out of L’amour Vrai; but not before you yank off your silver high heels and leave them there on the restaurant floor. The other guests are in scandalized uproar now. Ryan is still kneeling, furious and in shock. Outside it is bitingly cold and your breath turns to fog in the night air; the chilly concrete sidewalk soothes the aching soles of your feet.

Joe is ecstatic, his eyes gleaming under the streetlights as you walk together. “That was incredible! Did you see his face?! He totally thought he was going to be able to bully you into saying yes and you were not having it, you are a beast my dear, I hope some of those people put you on TikTok, I hope you get TikTok famous for being freaking awesome, then you can get rich and buy a mansion and let me live in the pool house and I’ll never have to work or suffer another honey-mustard-related catastrophe again—”

“Joe.” You stop him abruptly, resting a palm against his chest, gazing up at him beneath the cold stars. And after a moment he understands, and he kisses you. You catch more than a glimpse of those beautiful things you’d feared might not exist. They light up like the goddamn Eiffel Tower.

“I’ve wanted that for six months,” Joe says as he pulls away, softly, shakily, smiling almost shyly.

“Yeah,” you reply. “I think I have too.”

Joe takes your face in his hands and kisses you again. He tastes like heat and harmony and laughter and Skittles; but more than all of that, he tastes like love.

#sleepover event! #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzelo x reader

[bbdaydreams]

Courage My Love// Semi Eita

Pairing: Semi Eita x Reader

Summary: You like Semi and come up with a plan to confess to him, unfortunately it takes a turn. You meet again a couple years later by chance.

Chapter Seven: Take What You Want

Series Masterlist•<Previous•Next>

“Are you done with the eyeliner? I need it,” Izumi asked Haruka as everyone was getting ready on the bus.

“Stupid. Fucking. Boot. ZIP UP!” Yui yelled in frustration as she yanked on her zipper that had gotten stuck on itself.

“Yui, be careful-“ you started only to witness them accidentally hit their forehead.

“Goddamnit!”

“Yui got a boo boo already,” Haruka sighed before handing the eyeliner to Izumi.

“Poor Yui,” you said rubbing her forehead to which Yui attempted to bite as a joke. “Ooooo feisty, let’s save that for the set, alright babe?” Yui got up and took hold of your ears gently and you did the same. Giving each other a toothy grin you started shaking each other’s heads and making a random sound but you decided to mess with her and let your forehead tap hers. Yui let out a yelp as you let go and ran off the bus to get away from her wrath.

“Y/n!”

“Not here right now! Please leave a message!” Yui was probably the person you were closest to in your band which meant she was the one that had to put up with your bullshit while you put up with hers.

“I’m gonna getcha! And then I’m gonna hitcha!”

“No you’re not!” Running into the venue you were trying to find a place to lose her until you saw Won’t Regret and decided to talk to them instead after realizing the time. “Hey, boys,” you greeted.

“Hey,” they all greeted back.

“You look really good tonight,” Ranmaru said to spite Semi.

“Boo! She does, doesn’t she?” Yui asked as she wrapped her arms around your torso only to move your body side to side with her like a penguin.

“Thanks! You guys look good too,” you said taking note of their ensemble.

“Thank you,” Ranmaru said, looking over at Subaru.

“Gotta impress the crowd, ya know?” Subaru said before stretching his arms upwards to show off the muscles he’s gained from drumming over the years.

Your eyes grew in size taking in Subaru’s form only to grow wider when taking in Ranmaru’s, who was bigger than Subaru due to him working out, when he started rolling his shoulders. Semi took notice of your reaction and knew what his band mates were doing the moment they first complimented you but they didn’t have to go this far. “Hey! You guys should probably start prepping your stuff on stage to make sure it sounds good. The guy is signaling for you.”

“Yeah! Let’s go!” Jiro said wanting to help his leader out. He walked behind Ranmaru and Subaru’s backs and gave them a slight push so they could start walking. The two were about to complain before the took in Semi’s glare. When they got to the edge of the stage they fist bumped knowing they accomplished their goal only to hear the crowd scream because they thought the show was gonna start.

“That’s literally the funniest part about performing live,” you stated causing Semi to ask you ‘what was’ while looking confused.

“Them being so excited that they’ll literally scream just by seeing someone get on the stage, even if it’s just a tech guy,” Yui answered.

“Or when the lighting changes! The room just gets a little darker for a second and all of a sudden someone shrieks which just cases a chain of other people doing the same while others laugh,” you added on.

“It’s cool seeing them get so excited. Gets me excited,” Semi said, looking longingly to the crowd.

“I gotta go piss. I’ll be back!” You told them, excusing yourself to go find the restroom. After walking around with no luck you eventually decided to ask a staff member to point you in direction of the bathroom.

Sometime during your search you could hear Won’t Regret start playing their set and when you finally made it to the comfort of the stalls, Semi was already at the second verse of the first song. When you felt it time you were ready to get up you heard a voice belting out the bridge.

“Rage!

I'm the bad guy, I'm the nice try

I'm the typical bitch with the rage

On my face

I'm the goddamn beast of the goddamn pride”

Your face grew warm from the raw emotion you could feel from the sound. After washing your hands you sprinted back to where you left Yui at side stage. She turned around as you were approaching and looked at you with wide eyes.

“Was that him?” You asked while pointing at Semi. The song had ended and he started introducing the band to the crowd.

Yui with the same stunned expression nodded her head before speaking. “Dude, this mother fucker got lungs.”

“It wasn’t Jiro or Ranmaru? Even Subaru?” You continued still not believing it was your old friend that could do that.

“It was him. Has he always been able to do that?”

“No! Where’s his guitar?”

“I don’t know. He performed the song without it. He’s something else. It’s crazy.”

“Maybe he took over the vocal role and left the guitar to just Jiro...” you wondered.

“Alright let’s keep the night going. This next song is called Girlfriend,” Semi spoke into the mic. Ranmaru started leading them into the song with his bass and Jiro and Subaru followed.

As they were playing the intro, Semi licked his upper lip before taking a deep breath and started singing. With every word he sung he nodded his head along with the music either up and down, back and fourth, or side to side; whichever way he felt was best for the moment. He would bring his mic stand closer to himself and then pull it away so he could take quick breaths. When he got to the pre chorus he started bouncing his right leg to match the instruments as he head banged along.

You were feeling as if this was a completely different person from sound check. He wasn’t as stiff as he was before, he was actually getting really into it.

At the chorus he grabbed the mic off its stand and started walking closer towards the crowd which made them start pushing against the barricade. Backing away to get ready for the second verse, he made his way over to Jiro who was on his on his left and rubbed the back of his hand on his cheek before proceeding to go over towards Ranmaru on the other side of the stage to boop his nose. Both gestures made some people in the crowd scream which you and Yui found funny.

Hopping to the beat of the repeating pre chorus into strutting along with the chorus, Semi made his way back to his mic stand and put the microphone back into its holder. At the bridge his voice got softer and he was swaying lightly side to side but as it progressed he leaned forward with the mic stand until it was almost on the ground only to gradually come back up while rolling his shoulders backwards.

Using both hands to hold the bottom of the mic that was still on the stand, Semi belted out the final verse that led into the ending of the song. He used both his hands to run his hands down his face into raising his hands to show his index and thumb fingers were connected while his other fingers were pointed upwards. He then pointed at the crowd only to then use his hands to make an hourglass shape. Ending the song by putting one hand on his chest and the other on the mic, he pulled the stand to the left side of his head so he could catch his breath. The crowd immediately started cheering and screamed even more when he used the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead.

“Girly,” Yui started, “I ain’t gonna lie to you, but that’ll make your pussy throb.”

“Yui!” You laughed not expecting those words to come out of your best friend after what you both had just witnessed. “Girl, I was literally about to say that made my pussy throb,” you responded to finish the meme.

“Is he single?” She asked in a joking matter.

“Yui!”

“Y’all better not be referring to Jiro,” Izumi said which made Haruka hit her on the arm. She looked at you two with a panic in her eyes which you guys responded with a smirk.

“Oh? Does our baby of the band have a crush?” You started.

“Does our little drummer girl like their little guitar hero?”

“I hate you guys” Haruka said as she crossed her arms and pouted.

You all put your arms around her instead of continuing to tease her and continued watching Won’t Regret perform. Some of the songs really blew you guys away. Each song had something different to say and even if you couldn’t relate to the songs personally, you could emphasize with them. At one point you had tears in your eyes because one song had hit Yui too close to home. Taking note of the time, you realized their set was almost done and you needed to do your warm ups so you led the girls to your green room.

“They’ve grown so much,” you started, crossing your arms over one another to stretch.

“I mean, they’ve been playing for years so it makes sense but Jesus didn’t they just recently get signed?” Yui asked, holding the back of foot behind her to her butt one at a time.

Izumi sat on the ground with her legs spread out and placed her hands in the middle to stretch before speaking. “Yeah, with that talent they should’ve been signed years ago.”

“I guess luck wasn’t on their side up until now,” Haruka responded while doing lunges.

On stage, Semi could feel the rush of adrenaline within him. He was on a high performing live with his band mates and he couldn’t be happier. He loved showing off and seeing you and your band mates watch him for a while only fueled him more, not to mention his band mates and the crowd did as well. He put out so much energy and was lucky that the crowd gave it back because many crowds don’t. Most people just stand and watch with a bored expression on their face during the opening band because they’re only here for the headliner.

“Thank you so much again! We’re Won’t Regret and we’ll be at our merch table once we get off stage. The night is still young so I hope you’re not tired yet and are excited for Courage My Love!” Semi spoke, resulting in the crowd hollering at the mention of your band. “Wow, you guys really like them. But what about One Ok-“ More screaming started before he could even finish speaking. “-Rock. I didn’t even finish saying their name!” Semi laughed. “You guys were a beautiful crowd. Thank you for your time and being the first people to ever hear us live in the US. We’ll meet you at the merch table!” Getting off stage the boys received so much applause they couldn’t help but look back and wave goodbye.

“That was amazing!” Jiro started once they were off stage.

“That was the best show I think we’ve ever played,” Subaru added, pinching his shirt and moving it so he could get some cool air.

“Good job, guys,” Ranmaru spoke, putting his bass down in its case.

“I’m excited to meet some of them,” Semi said.

Meeting some people after the show was a new experience for them this time. Back home when they met people, the majority of them were people they could recognize because of the amount of times they’d seen each other where here they’re in a completely different country. Everyone was new.

Not many people were lined up at the table, probably a good fifteen people were, which they assumed was because not everyone wanted to risk giving up their spot in the crowd.

“H-hi,” a girl with dyed blue hair stuttered as she approached the table. “Could you sign my book?” she asked, opening her composition note book to a blank page.

“Of course!” Jiro responded with a smile. Semi and Jiro had the best English so they did the majority of the talking while Ranmaru and Subaru would responded whenever they felt comfortable.

“Could I also get a picture?” she asked nervously.

“Yes,” Ranmaru, answered enthusiastically.

The guys posed behind the merch table while the girl stood in front of it and one of her friends took the picture.

“Thank you for hanging out with us,” Semi told them.

“Have a good day,” Subaru added, smiling and giving them a nod to which the new fan gave back.

The boys continued talking to the people that were in line for them and ended up staying there to watch your set from a distance. When your set was done they got up and ran to the bus so they could take a quick shower, Semi going first since he had to go back on stage.

Your band met with your fans after your set as well and left once On Ok Rock started to perform so you could shower as well.

When you were done you found Semi standing side stage watching Taka and his band perform. “Hey,” you started, surprising your old friend when he heard your voice.

“Hey,” he responded.

“Proud of you. You guys were incredible to watch.”

“I could say the same to you. I didn’t know you had that much energy in you.”

“Don’t worry, I’m still lazy. The stage is where I really let myself bloom. I love it,” you told him honestly.

“Well, I’m glad you found your safe Heaven.”

When Taka announced that they were playing the final song, you and Semi stopped talking to pay attention to your cue to start getting on stage after one of the staff members handed you wireless mics. Semi took the lead and walked to the center of the stage when his part started only for you to follow when it was time for the duet. You continued your singing since the second chorus was assigned to you. Semi and Taka backed up to give you some space to have center stage but when it was over you and Semi crossed each other to switch positions. He sang the part that led into the bridge only to switch places with you again and then walk over to the left side of the stage. Taka stayed in the middle and you made your way over to the right side. As Taka sang the last chorus of the song you and Semi did your best to interact with the crowd before standing up to walk towards the middle of the stage while alternating lines. Taka sang the second to last line by himself and then you and Semi joined him to sing the last one together to end the night.

You both stood with an arm around Taka’s shoulders as he had his over yours and Semi. When the song was over, you and Semi moved to get off stage but Taka kept a hold on you both and spoke into the mic, thanking the crowd, your bands, and everyone else that helped make the show possible. He had you all bow together before turning and waiting for his band mates to come over so they could take a group photo with the crowd behind them.

Getting off the stage Taka thanked you for your performances tonight before letting you both go to your respective buses to relax and get ready for the next day.

“Welcome back,” Haruka yawned when you appeared.

“Hey. Is Izumi making curry?” you asked.

“You know it!” Izumi responded, following your tradition of her cooking her favorite curry on the first day of tour.

“I can’t wait,” Yui spoke, tired from jumping around. Taking a seat next to her on your small lounge couch, you rest your head on her shoulders and let your eyes close as you waited for Izumi to finish dinner.

Laying in his bunk after a long night, Semi couldn’t sleep. His mind was clouded with how the first night went. He was proud of himself and his band mates for doing really well their first night. They performed just like they usually did and didn’t hold anything back which made them surprise themselves. He honestly thought at least one of them, mostly himself, would’ve messed up. Eventually letting his mind wander a little, he thought of you.

He’s seen you perform on stage through his phone screen but never live in person. You were all smiles on stage moving your body along with the music while also never missing a beat. You were literally a pro. He also enjoyed watching you interact with the crowd and seeing you change your attitude when talking about certain topics regarding your music, most of them being about feminism, but other topics as well. He felt like he could watch you perform for hours and never get sick of it. He just wanted to listen to you.

Another thing he realized is that he would love to sing a song with you. The duet you both shared was probably his favorite part of the night because of the harmony he could hear through his headpiece was crystal clear since the majority of the crowd was blocked out. It was pure bliss to him.

He could still feel an attraction to you but he knew better than to jump on it because who knows if you still felt the same. On top of that you both decided to start anew instead of jumping into where you left off. He had to take things slow and see.

a/n: I wrote 90% of this all this morning all because I couldn’t get the songs out of my head. The first song Won’t Regret sings is another song by Badflower and it’s called Wide Eyes. I’ve been obsessed with Badflower since December like I basically listen to them daily they’re sooooo good. Also the song that made the girls emotional was Daddy by the same band.

I basically headcanon Won’t Regret as Badflower like I legitimately believe songs like theirs are what Semi’s band are like. Also if I remember correctly I’m pretty sure this hc is what led me to write this story. This is a long ass authors note oops sorry I just adore Badflower

Taglist: @pluviophilefangirl @yourstarvic @sunaswife @mynscorner @syaziahvg @discountkiyoko @blondemitski

#haikyu #haikyuu!! #semi eita #semi eita x reader #semi haikyuu #semi x reader #haikyu x y/n

[clumsyclifford]

lashton prompt: luke falling asleep on skype and ashton taking the opportunity to draw him, bonus if someone else finds the sketches before ashton shows them to luke

meghna this prompt is from almost a full calendar year ago. i am proud to report that after all this time i did in fact manage to set it in spideyverse because that’s how determined i am. more info in ao3 notes but it takes place in the summer before their senior year of high school, so after the events of everything else in spideyverse so far

read here on ao3

-

Ashton will have to thank Maya later for the tip about the Fine Arts Room. He jimmies the door handle and, as promised, the door swings opens to reveal a darkened room full of half-finished projects. They must really take the decency of humanity on faith here. Anyone could come in at any time and sabotage any of this work.

Ashton has less nefarious plans.

He sits at his usual spot but doesn’t turn any lights on; the big windows shine just enough moonlight into the room that Ashton can see the silhouettes of the furniture, and his laptop will be on in a moment anyway. Careful of the scattered pages over his workspace, he opens his computer and loads up Skype. 

Just in time for an incoming call.

Ashton fumbles with his headphones and plugs them in with one hand while he accepts the call with the other. The screen fills with Luke’s brightly-lit, highly pixelated face. Chin in his hands, elbows propped on his desk, hair a ruffled mess (from the mask, Ashton knows) — the sight of him fills Ashton with warmth.

“Hey,” Luke says, smiling his usual cheeky smile. They’ve been texting sporadically, but seeing Luke’s face — hearing his voice — gives Ashton a fluttery feeling behind his sternum. Calum would call that anatomically impossible, but he’d do it with a smirk. “I can barely see you.”

“I’m sitting in the dark,” Ashton explains. His voice is a hushed whisper even though he knows it’s absurd to be paranoid. They’re supposed to be confined to their bunks by now, and the staff and counselors will all be asleep. The only reason he and Luke are calling now, past midnight, is because now is the only time they’re both available. “I’m in the Fine Arts Room.”

“Ooh, can I see?”

“I don’t want to turn on the lights,” Ashton says. “There are windows and stuff.”

“Are you not supposed to be there?” Luke raises an eyebrow and grins. “Ooh, is Ashton Irwin sneaking around?”

“Well, if we weren’t calling at the middle of the night, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Don’t they lock the buildings?” Luke suddenly looks concerned.

Ashton shrugs. “Maya told me that if I jiggle the handle, the door will open. She was right.”

“Go Maya,” Luke says. “I like Maya. Who’s Maya?”

“My new friend,” says Ashton. “She mostly paints. We’ve got a challenge going on about whether she’s better at drawing or I’m better at painting, since neither of us really use those mediums. Hannah — one of the other campers — is going to find something for us to both paint slash draw and then there’ll be an unofficial panel of judges. It’s pretty stupid.”

“You’re smiling a lot,” Luke says, and Ashton realizes he is. “Doesn’t sound stupid to me. You think you’re gonna win?”

“No,” Ashton says honestly. “I’m pretty awful at painting.”

“I’m sure you’re better than you think. How hard can it be?”

“That’s very rich coming from you, Mr. I-Can’t-Draw-A-House.”

“Hey, fuck off! I can draw a house, thank you very much.” Luke looks down at his desk and his focus shifts, and Ashton watches in bemused patience. As he waits, he draws a blank piece of paper towards him and grabs the nearest pencil lying around. His hands move almost unconsciously, drawing lines and curves and sketching the outline of something Ashton hasn’t quite decided on yet. Luke finally lifts his head up. “Here, see?” He holds up a piece of paper to the camera, where he’s drawn a box with an isosceles triangle on top for the roof, complete with a little chimney sticking out. “House,” Luke proudly declares. “Boom. Get fucked, Irwin.”

“I stand corrected,” Ashton chuckles. He hums. “They’ll probably just find us equally talented because painting is different from drawing and blah blah blah artsy hipster bullshit.”

“Stop dismissing the artsy hipster bullshit,” Luke says stubbornly. “I’ll have you know my boyfriend deals exclusively in artsy hipster bullshit.”

“You think my drawings are artsy hipster bullshit?”

“No, babe, I think you are artsy hipster bullshit.” Luke grins widely and then gets cut off by a yawn. Ashton bites back a very cheesy comment about how Luke should web himself up for being criminally cute.

“You know what, I’m gonna let you have that one,” he says instead. “Since I am at an artsy hipster bullshit summer camp.”

“I miss you.” Luke pouts. It’s a funny look on him. Ashton tries to imagine Spiderman pouting and completely fails. Sometimes it’s hard for him to reconcile Luke and Spiderman being the same person. That this adorable six-foot-and-change beanstalk who yawns on Skype is the same person who can do a double-backflip and land on his feet on the rooftop of any building. Ashton’s boyfriend stops crimes. What the fuck.

“I miss you too,” he says. “You seem tired.”

“I’m not tired.” Instant karma is a bitch. Luke immediately yawns again, this time much wider. “Okay, I’m a little tired,” he admits, smacking his lips like a child. “Summer break is deceptively boring. I…I run out of things to do all day, so I just kinda…keep patrolling. I might be wearing myself out.”

“Jesus, Luke, take it easy on yourself. Queens goes the entire school day without Spiderman’s protection during the school year. You can handle a break.”

“Yeah, but I might as well patrol,” Luke counters. “I have the time, and it’s not like I’m doing anything else.”

“I thought you and Michael were working on new specs for the suit.”

“It’s mostly Michael. Also, I think he’s kind of annoyed about the whole 24/7 patrol. He can’t work on the suit if I’m wearing it.”

“That is true.”

“But he’s been spending a lot of his time with Calum, anyway,” Luke says coolly. “So I figure he’s probably got other priorities.”

“Well, if you keep blowing him off to obsessively patrol the city, I can’t possibly imagine why he’s making other plans.” 

Luke stares through the camera. His shoulders slump. “Maybe. I hadn’t thought of that.”

“That’s why I’m here,” Ashton chirps.

Luke sighs deeply. “You’re not here, Ash.”

Ashton purses his lips and frowns. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I know, but I’m just saying. I miss you. I wish you were here.”

“Yeah,” Ashton says. He misses Luke too, more than is probably healthy. That’s what he gets, he supposes, for only having a handful of close relationships; Luke and Calum are his whole life, and not being able to hug either one of them for even a week has been pretty challenging. “But look, it’s only another week, and then I am all yours, I swear.”

“Don’t enable me,” Luke says, affronted. “You’re supposed to say things like… ‘You don’t own me’ and ‘I’m my own person’ and stuff like that.”

Ashton blinks, confused. “Uh…well, yeah, but we both already know that. I’m just saying I miss you too. But if it’s any consolation, Maya has ruthlessly mocked me for all the drawings I do of you. Like mercilessly. It’s actually kind of embarrassing.”

“That is super embarrassing,” Luke says, with a small, bashful smile. “You’re so fucking lame, Ashton.”

“Wow,” Ashton says. “You even sound like her.”

Luke giggles, which turns seamlessly into a yawn. “Hey, I came first. Maya sounds like me.”

“Luke, babe, just go to sleep,” Ashton says. “We can talk another night. Maybe one where you’re more well-rested.”

“I’m super rested,” Luke says in a monotone. “King of restedness, me.”

“Wow, I’m suddenly convinced.” Luke makes a half-hearted face at him and Ashton makes one back. The sketch under Ashton’s pencil has revealed itself to be Luke, yet again. Shocker. It really is embarrassing that Ashton defaults to drawing his boyfriend. If they ever break up, Ashton will be fucked.

“Are you drawing?” Trust Luke to notice. Although the fact that it’s taken him this long to notice means he must be slower on the uptake than usual. 

“Yeah,” Ashton says, because when is he not. 

“Drawing what?”

“Guess,” Ashton says dryly.

Luke gives a sleepy smile. “At least you’re predictable.”

“Luke, I’m begging you to get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow or this weekend or something, okay?”

Luke yawns yet again. “Okay,” he agrees, right hand propping up his head. His eyes flutter shut and then open again. “Okay, fine.”

“And please let Michael look at your suit,” Ashton adds. “You know he’s only going to make it better.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Luke’s eyes fall shut again. It seems more out of tiredness than distress. “If I give it to him, then I can’t use it.”

Ashton’s pretty sure if Luke’s hero complex gets any bigger he’s going to have to start renting out rooms. “It’ll be two days, tops,” he says. “Take two days off.”

“I wanna wait ‘til you’re back,” Luke mumbles. “Spend ‘em with you.”

“You spend most of your time with me,” Ashton says gently. “Spend them with Michael. Hell, spend them with Cal.”

“But I want…” Luke yawns. He lists sideways a little. “I want you.”

Ashton chews his lip. “I’ll be back before you know it,” he says. “You won’t be able to get rid of me.”

Luke hums absently. “‘Kay, g’night,” he slurs, but makes no gesture to hang up the call. He probably expects Ashton to end it. If Luke is as asleep as he looks right now, Ashton kind of has to.

The graphite on the sketch paper is smudging a little. Ashton glances down at the half-assed likeness of his boyfriend and has an idea.

Quietly, he grabs another blank page, moves his laptop back a little, and starts to draw.

-

They’re up bright and early the next day, and after breakfast Ashton follows a decidedly more lively Maya into the Fine Arts Room, where she takes her place diagonally from him at their table. They’re both mid-project; Ashton stacks and sets aside his scratch papers and pulls forth the drawing he’s currently working on.

“So? You talked to Luke?”

Ashton blinks and looks up at Maya. “Yeah,” he says. “Thanks for the tip, I meant to say.”

“Hey, don’t thank me, thank Cupid,” Maya says airily. “I’m on the side of love, baby.”

Ashton snorts and rolls his eyes. “Let Cupid know I say thanks.”

Maya hums. “Cupid says you’re welcome.”

They’re quiet while Maya gets herself set up — she has to put all her acrylics back every evening only to set them back out every morning, another reason Ashton prefers pencils over paints — and Ashton picks up his pencil and starts to draw. 

“Is this yours?” Maya asks, peering at Ashton’s discarded stack of sketches.

“Yeah,” Ashton says without looking. “Just sketches and stuff.”

“Wait, this is so cute.” She’s leaning over the drawing on the top. Ashton glances up.

It’s Luke from last night, soundly asleep over Skype.

Ashton had ended the call after about ten minutes of silence, enough time to get the rough outlines of all the important shapes. The video quality wouldn’t have lent itself to a good sketch anyway if Ashton had been chasing authenticity, but fortunately he knows Luke’s face well enough — both from drawing it and gazing at it in real life — to pretend the call had had a crystal-clear picture. None of it is colored in, but it’s as obviously Luke as all of Ashton’s other drawings. Somehow, though, this one feels more personal.

“Did you draw this last night?”

“Uh,” Ashton says, reaching for the drawing. He shuffles it between several other papers so an innocuous collection of doodles is now at the top of the stack, and Maya clicks her tongue in disapproval.

“Hey, I was looking at that. It was cute.”

“Yeah, it’s— it’s just nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, it’s adorable,” Maya says. She fixes him with puppy-dog eyes. “Pleeeease can I see it? I won’t show anyone. I’m studying so I can kick your ass in our competition.”

Ashton sighs. “It’s just Luke. You’ve seen millions of drawings of him.”

“But those were obviously from memory,” Maya points out, taking his non-answer as an affirmative and sifting through the stack. Ashton doesn’t bother trying to stop her. It’s not like he has anything to hide — or at least not anything Maya could figure out by looking at the drawing.

And in her defense, Luke does look cute as fuck in the drawing, because he’d looked cute as fuck in real life.

“For all you know, this one is also from memory.”

“You drew the screen, Ash, it’s clearly from last night.”

“Well,” Ashton says diplomatically. Then he abandons diplomacy, because Maya has located the drawing and is grinning and aww-ing. “Well do you blame me? He fell asleep on our call. It was adorable.”

Maya giggles. “You guys are so fucking cute,” she says. “Y’know, most people would be insulted if their boyfriend fell asleep on a video call with them.”

“He’s been really busy lately,” Ashton says. “And it was the end of the call anyway.”

“One day, I will have someone to draw me when I fall asleep on our Skype calls,” Maya says wistfully. “I’m putting the vibes out into the universe so it’ll happen soon.”

“Maybe you’ll be the one drawing them,” Ashton points out. 

Maya finally sets down the Luke drawing. She dips her brush in red paint, clearly intending to put it into her work, but at Ashton’s words instead brandishes it threateningly at him. “I won’t be drawing anyone, buddy.”

Ashton laughs. “But you’d date someone who drew instead of painted?”

“At this point?” Maya sighs theatrically. “I’d date just about anyone who did anything.”

Ashton laughs again. They work quietly for a few minutes. Ashton starts shading.

“Why do you only ever draw Luke?” Maya asks. “You said you’ve been together for less than a year. Who were you drawing before then?”

Ashton shrugs. “Uh, anyone, really,” he says. “People. There are a lot of pretty interesting people at my school, and besides, I’m from the city.”

Maya snorts derisively. “You’re from Queens.”

“Queens is in the city.”

Another derisive snort. “Queens is in the city the same way using ink stamps is painting.”

“That’s not even a little bit the same thing, at all.”

“You’re not a city boy.”

“I am literally a city boy!” Maya waves him off, but Ashton ignores her. She’s from Massachusetts. She has no leg to stand on. “My point is that there are lot of interesting people near where I live, too.”

“You didn’t ever, I don’t know, draw your friends? Calum, didn’t you say he’s your best friend from home?”

“Ah, yeah,” Ashton says. “Calum. Didn’t like when I drew him.”

“What, seriously? Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Ashton says, and it’s true. “He just asked me to stop drawing him one day so I did.” He hesitates. “...Mostly. Sometimes I still do. But if you knew Calum you’d understand why. He’s extremely good-looking.”

“Of course he is,” Maya says. “Any chance he’s single and/or interested in women from several states away?”

“No to both questions,” Ashton says sympathetically. “But good try.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Maya says good-naturedly, and they lapse into silence again.

It’s broken by Maya, again. “Do you show Luke the drawings you do of him?”

That’s a complicated question. No, Ashton doesn’t actively show his drawings to Luke, but Luke usually sees them anyway. Some of them are more private; Ashton keeps the one of Luke in the Spiderman suit sans mask folded up in the bottom of his socks drawer where he’s pretty certain no one ever looks. There doesn’t seem to be a point to showing it to Luke now, so long after he’d actually done it. But for the most part he’s not hiding his art from Luke; Luke sees what he sees, notwithstanding Ashton’s intention.

“Sometimes,” Ashton says.

Maya nods at the drawing of Luke asleep on Skype. “You gonna show him that one?”

“Uh, probably not.”

“What, why? It’s so cute.”

“I don’t know, maybe because it makes me seem like a ridiculous lovesick borderline creepy idiot?”

“Guys love that,” Maya assures him. “Or so I’m told. C’mon, why hold out on him when he already knows you’re basically obsessed with drawing him?” She taps the drawing. “And when he looks this adorable?”

Ashton breathes a laugh. “You have a point.”

“I always do,” Maya says, and she flips her hair dramatically.

Maybe Michael would let Ashton draw him. That would be a nice change from always drawing Luke and never drawing Calum. Maybe Ashton could just do it and then ask Michael what he thinks. It would be nice to have new muses. Ashton has spent a lot of time on Luke; maybe it’s about time he branched out again.

“Hey,” Ashton says, struck with inspiration as he watches Maya make brushstrokes across her paper. “Can I draw you?”

“Hell yeah, go for it,” Maya says. “I’m not sitting still for you, though.”

“I’ll live,” Ashton says dryly. Maya grins and laughs. A fresh page before Ashton and a new pencil in his hand, he studies Maya’s profile carefully and then brings his pencil to the page.

-

“Did you break into the Fine Arts Room again?”

“I don’t think it’s breaking in if it’s technically unlocked,” Ashton points out.

Luke squints but evidently fails to argue with this logic. “How’s artsy hipster bullshit camp?”

“Really good,” Ashton says, cracking his knuckles. His parents have told him repeatedly that doing so will give him arthritis, but Ashton suspects that’s more of a scare tactic than a fact. At this point he doubts even rehab could get him to stop. It’s the only thing Ashton can think to do with his hands when he’s not drawing. “By the way, remember the other day when you fell asleep on our call?”

I fell asleep at the end of our call,” Luke corrects him. “We were done talking.”

“Okay, weirdo,” Ashton says, shaking his head. “Well, anyway, Maya convinced me that I should show you this because maybe you’d think it was cute, or something.” He holds up the drawing of Luke.

Luke leans closer to the camera. Anyone else might have trouble discerning what’s on the page given how dim it is around Ashton, but not Luke. Luke has super-senses. His visual acuity is, like, a thousand. (Rough estimate.)

So when Luke’s face splits into a grin, Ashton knows he’s seen exactly what’s there. “Oh my fucking God, you sap,” he says. “I thought you just hung up straightaway.” 

“Nope,” Ashton says. “I’m just saving moments. One day I’ll have enough for a flip book.”

Luke’s expression goes all mushy and heart-eyed. “You’re unbelievable,” he says, fond and endeared. “I can’t believe you’re not bored of my dumb face yet.”

“Are you kidding? Have you seen your dumb face?” Ashton laughs. “It’s impossible to be bored of it.”

“Ashton,” Luke says, his eyes crinkling so much that the blue all but disappears. “I love you.”

And everything makes sense.

“I love you too,” Ashton says, struck by the realization that he does. The drawings, the midnight Skype calls, the death-defying trips around the city with only his faith in Luke to keep them afloat, the fluttery feeling — all of the colors lock into place, and Ashton can see the rainbow clear as day in front of him. He’s never been in love; of course he couldn’t tell. But there’s nothing else it could be.

“Oh, good,” Luke says timidly. “I was a little worried you wouldn’t say it back.”

Ashton glances from the drawing in his hand to the look on Luke’s face on the screen, and he cracks a crooked smile. “Then you, superhero, have not been paying attention.”

#luke hemmings #ashton irwin #lashton #lashton fic #5sos #5sos fic #fic #my fic #spideyverse #so.........................yeah #posting this in hour four of our nine hours of auditions today #it is going. it is definitely going #sigh #so many of these people have such good voices but cant fucking match pitch for shit #its like!!!!! #please do better :((( #the girl whos auditioning rn loves taylor swift she said her fav album is speak now #but that her least favs are self titled and folklore #folklore because sonically it's not her vibe #which is okay #she seems cute #but her voice is not super good and i :((((( #i just wanna make all these girls great singers so we can accept them ALL