#against the wall kiss

[alidravana]

Flufftober: Against the Wall Kiss

In celebration of the last prompt yet to be filled for Flufftober 2021, instead of writing a new fic for 'against the wall kiss', I have decided to make a post sharing all of my fics that I use this move in (and you'll see I'm a big fan of this move)!

To read on A03, simply click the underlined title.  Please heed the ratings (everything is M and up) and tags, these get steamy!

Title: Interrupted Fandom/Pairing: SEAL Team, Trent Sawyer/Clay Spenser Summary: Trent and Clay have a surprise visitor interrupt their night-time activities....

Title: Heat Rising Fandom/Pairing: SWAT/911, Jim Street/Buck Summary: AKA 5 + 1 Ways that the 20-David Squad Found Out that Jim was Dating a Firefighter and the One Time He Wasn’t

Title: Alternate Birthday Plans Fandom/Pairing: RNM, Malex Summary: Alex wonders why Guerin is taking him to one of the sketchier motels on the outskirts of Roswell.

This one counts for two times and you’ll see why if you read it!

Title: Your Hands, My Ghosts Fandom/Pairing: Call of Duty, Roach/Ghost Summary: As Simon and Gary’s relationship starts to heat up, Simon’s memories as a prisoner of war come back to haunt him.

Honourable Mentions:

Against a jeep door:

Title: Now You're All I Want Fandom/Pairing: 911, Buddie Summary: Eddie never makes the first move, Buck knows this all too well.

Against the wall...other activities (below the cut)!

Title: Super Soldiers Are Heavy Fandom/Pairing: TFATWS, Sam/Bucky Summary: Bucky gets hurt on a mission, Sam has to get him to their exfil in one piece.

Title: Call Me By Your Name Fandom/Pairing: SEAL Team, Trent Sawyer/Clay Spenser Summary: Clay and Trent attempt to have a quickie in a storage closet while avoiding detection from the rest of Bravo team. Is their mission successful?

Title: Three Cuddles and a F**** Fandom/Pairing: TFATWS/Daredevil, Matt/Bucky (Winterdevil) Summary: AKA the three times their friends came across Matt and Bucky cuddling and the one time it was more...

[bookshopbentley]

something i noticed is that whenever crowley and aziraphale do have physical touch it’s always ( ? ) aziraphale initiating it . it’s aziraphale who occasionally puts his hand on crowley’s chest , arm , back , whatever to guide him . it’s aziraphale resting his hand on crowley’s arm to tell him something . it’s aziraphale took crowley’s hand to dance , something crowley would have never done otherwise . but the kiss . that is the first time crowley has been the one to initiate physical contact . the first time . and as far as he knows , the last .

[peachypunchh]

hey guys i have my guesses about what this could be referring to but Please i need to know everyone's vibe checks on this. what tragedies do yall see in the future of the suckening?

[inoreuct]

would you agree that we all need more Sanji getting nosebleeds over Zoro in this fandom?

YES *pelting down a hill waving the proposal for this in my hand like a madman* YESSSSSS

the first time sanji gets a nosebleed over zoro is his clue-in that oh. i’m not straight, am i. the swordsman’s doing a bench press (shirtless, as always) as sanji walks by (and sanji sneaks a look, as always, because who wouldn’t?) and when he glances over the plates he has to do a double take because what the fuck. zoro’s pressing more than twice his body weight. zoro’s repping more than twice his body weight. he’s just registered that maybe he’s stared for a bit too long when he feels something warm and wet on his upper lip, iron dripping over his mouth, and he books it for the galley.

he slams the door shut and presses his back against it before he slides to the ground and screams into his knees because what. the fuck. it’s not even that he’s getting hot and bothered over a guy; it’s just that the guy’s zoro. he’s not supposed to get nosebleeds over zoro.

but he does.

and it gets worse.

zoro walking around shirtless on deck? nosebleed. zoro re-tying the sails and just hanging on with his legs around the mast? nosebleed. zoro strutting out of the shower door, damp with steam and hair dripping wet and a towel around his waist? nosebleed. zoro tsking irritably and grabbing all of sanji’s food and packages from him to haul the whole lot over his shoulder? NOSEBLEED.

and not even that. he starts getting breathless around zoro and his chest hurts. he kicks zoro back while they’re sparring one day and the swordsman grins, feral and unrestrained and all challenge and teeth, and sanji’s heart spasms so hard that he actually wonders if he’s about to go into cardiac arrest. he’s barely twenty, he isn’t ready to die— much less because of some stupid marimo. chiselled abs and a nice set of biceps are only worth so much of sanji’s dignity. he twists and smashes the sole of his shoe right into zoro’s pretty face.

still, it gets so, so bad that he’s elected to just. avoid zoro completely. he’s sneaking around corners and running across open expanses ducked low like some kind of goofy thief and he knows it’s so fucking stupid but he doesn’t. he doesn’t know if zoro likes— no. he doesn’t even think about it. there’s no way, and if he gives himself false hope he’ll just break his own heart. he doesn’t know if zoro likes men, or anyone, much less him; nobody in their right mind would, not really. he's nice to have but not to keep and he's come to terms with it.

…until zoro corners him in the galley and demands to know what the fuck’s going on.

sanji stays facing away, slowly washing the dishes even as his heart pounds so hard it hurts. he is painfully aware of the way zoro’s seething like an over-boiled kettle in one of the chairs behind him, arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest and stock-still because he never, ever shakes his leg even though sanji knows he wants to.

his sponge squeaks across ceramic. the water’s warm against his fingertips, and his eyes flick up to meet his own reflection in the porthole window; he looks… well, he doesn’t know. scared, maybe. nervous. his mouth is thin, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, a shudder running its fingers down his spine even as his heartbeat thumps between his ribs and god, fuck, it aches. and he knows. he looks himself in the eyes and he knows that somewhere along the line nosebleeds had turned into falling in love and he was the stupid idiot who had just let it happen because he was too weak to pry zoro out of his thoughts.

his gaze flicks down sharply when he hears the sudden scrape of the chair, and zoro spits, “look, i can’t fix whatever i did wrong if you don’t tell me what it is.”

sanji’s heart throbs. “what?”

he can hear zoro’s scowl. “what, what? i obviously did something. you’ve been avoiding me like the plague.”

the cook almost laughs. he bites it down and swallows his words, salty-sweet at the back of his throat. guilt nips at him; zoro’s his rival and and his personal annoyance and a blockhead but he might also, maybe, just maybe, be sanji’s best friend. and sanji hasn’t been very fair to him lately.

he swallows again, clears his throat silently. “you didn’t do anything, marimo,” he murmurs to the plate in his hands, trying for airy and getting more somewhat vaguely strangled. he coughs. “just forget about it. sorry i’ve been weird.”

sanji will deal. he will, somehow; he’d been careless and careless is dangerous and for perhaps the first time in his life, he has too much to lose. he’ll squash his heart into a box and lock it down tight like he always has and it’ll hurt, but when does it ever not? he mentally declares the matter done and dusted as he shakes off the plate and gently sets it on the drying rack.

his lungs hitch as a callused hand cups his elbow.

zoro pulls him around. he’s too weak to resist. the edge of the sink digs into his hip as stormy grey eyes scan his face and zoro looks tense, his jaw set in the way it only is when he faces off with a particularly vexing foe.

“did i not look happy enough at dinner?" he asks, and it could be mockery but it isn't, not with that edge to his voice; not desperation, but damn near. like filter paper burning its way to ash. "was it my clothes on the floor? my boots on the bed? what?”

sanji can't stand it anymore. he looks away, tries to twist out of the invisible bonds zoro has him trapped in, but fingers looped around his wrist are all it takes to make him stay and fuck, fuck, he's so fucked.

"sanji, what did i do?” zoro breathes, brow furrowed, voice too near and too damn earnest, and sanji's throat bobs as he digs the heel of his palm into his eye.

this isn't how it's supposed to go. zoro isn't supposed to care. zoro isn't supposed to be standing here in the galley saying his name in that tone of voice. a hand carefully pulls his own away from his face, and zoro doesn't fucking let go, and sanji feels too much like he's been stripped down to the bone.

"i know," zoro continues, gruff like he doesn't know how to be anything else, "that i upset you. so would you please tell me what i did so i can fix it?" he bends lower still, ducking to try and catch sanji’s line of sight but sanji just can't look at him. "i'll fix it, i—"

"you can't fix this." the words are out and in the air before he can stop them, and a bittersweet smile curves his mouth. "there's nothing to fix, so you can't fix it. just let it go, alright?"

zoro wants to argue. sanji can tell. but the swordsman lets out a measured exhale after a long moment and pulls back, face carefully neutral. "at least tell me what's going on, cook."

sanji looks down at his feet. "...i can't."

"like hell you can't," zoro replies immediately, and it's such an abrupt reminder of their normal banter that it wrenches a rough noise from sanji's chest. "i was the one who held your hair back after you had, like, seven margaritas too many. don't think you could tell me anything worse than the experience of trying to stop you from falling into your own puke."

"oh, jesus fuck," sanji swears on instinct, then laughs. it's unfortunately hollow. "that was one time, asshole."

"one time too many," zoro hums, raising an eyebrow. "so you gonna tell me what's going on, or do i have to make it a captain's order?"

sanji grits his teeth.

"i will drag luffy in here, i don't care—"

"fucking—" he holds his breath, flipping around to white-knuckle the edge of the sink and letting it out slow. "fine. you ever loved someone, marimo?"

"sure." zoro shrugs easily, crossing his arms as he looks out the window. "kuina, but i think i learned to love her memory more than anything else. luffy, nami—" a near-unnoticeable flutter of thick lashes. "you."

sanji exhales through his nose as he rocks back on his heels. squeezes out air till it hurts. "you know that's not what i meant."

"what did you mean, then?"

he turns to look at where zoro has settled lazily against the counter, the moon turning his eyes to silver. "I mean the kind of love that makes your blood race. that makes you want more even when you know you'll never take more than you're allowed. the kind that makes your heart hurt so badly you feel empty without it."

the swordsman's face is unreadable as he tilts his head slowly. "i did say i love you."

it hits sanji like a bullet. he sucks in a sharp breath, and his throat burns as he turns away and tries to stop his shoulders from heaving up. "don't fuck with me, zoro. not about this."

it feels rather like a cruel cosmic joke. he's so near yet so far, just one step away with a gauzy curtain between but he can't touch it. he won't. he's got too many things on the line and yet he can't even name one of them.

"hey."

he squeezes his eyes shut against the burn of salt that shouldn't even be there, and look at that. little sanji's gone and broken his own heart again.

"hey," zoro tries again, more insistent, one hand hovering in the space between them and sanji feels the pull of it like a magnet.

he doesn't turn away as it cups his cheek. doesn't run as fingers slide through the short hairs at his nape, a thumb behind his jaw. his lashes are damp. it is everything he wants and everything he cannot have and he can't—

"look at me."

"i can't," he breathes, lungs rising fast and shallow. he's afraid to open his eyes. he's afraid of what he'll see.

"yes, you can." zoro shifts closer and another hand joins the first. it's big and rough and warm and he holds sanji's face like he's the moon herself. "look at me, curly."

he can't.

he does.

zoro's gaze is almost painful to meet straight-on with how intense it is. he seems to realise, face softening as he leans closer, closer, posture loose enough that it would be no problem for sanji to shove him away. "you love me," he breathes. "yes or no?"

sanji's heart stops. his tongue is clumsy in his mouth, his brain a mess of yesnoyesyesnoiwon'tican’tido—

"don't think." zoro's voice cuts through the haze as he shakes his head slowly; a sword through smoke, silver-bright, singing in the air and leaving silence. "don't think. you love me, yes or no."

the galley swims around sanji as his vision blurs. he feels his tears spill hot down his cheek, knows the way zoro aches to brush them away and yet stays still. he opens his mouth and it feels like stepping out of the only shelter he's ever known; he is an open fucking wound and he's raw and everything hurts, everything but zoro. zoro. zoro. "yes."

just one word, three simple letters, and still it feels like damnation; if he'd never said it he could deny it but now it's real. the swordsman relaxes, shoulders dropping enough that his forehead brushes sanji's, and sanji tracks the way his throat bobs. the way steel-grey eyes flicker over his face, molten in the light of the electric lamps and the moonlight spilling through the window, gilding zoro like something out of a dream. a fairytale sanji read as a child until the edges of the pages fitted familiar to his thumbs as his little hands reached for a happy ending that was never meant to be his.

he shakes, now, as zoro reaches up to run tentative fingers through straw-pale hair. "let me love you. yes or no."

"i—" the sound that twists from his mouth is cracked jagged down the middle, unpolished as a common pebble picked up off the damn street. "you don't—"

"yes or no."

"i'm not what you want," he gasps, his face wet.

"yes or no."

sanji wants to break apart. because zoro sounds like he's begging, and he cannot fathom anybody possibly wanting him that much. he wants to scream and cry and claw at the walls until his nails break. he wants to shatter into pieces all over the floor without having to worry about putting himself back together. he wants. he wants, and zoro's looking at him with the closest thing to reverence he's seen in his life, and even that isn't enough for him to believe it. "i'm not what you want."

he can barely look at zoro. he can barely look at himself. the shame is clawing a pit into his stomach, and he lets it, feels every inch of it, because what kind of person doesn't know how to be loved? his breath catches wetly as zoro cups his jaw in both hands, tilting his face up, and once again sanji is too weak to pull away.

"you are everything i want."

the words are so fierce, so sure, and sanji is cracking apart at the seams. the stitches pulled tight by his own hand are unravelling and he can't stop it—

"yes or no."

zoro's breath ghosts warm across his mouth, fingertips in his hair, just far away enough for sanji to see the way his eyes are blazing and yet he waits. his thumb on sanji's cheek is the gentlest thing sanji has ever known.

"you'll get tired of me," he tries weakly, one last time for good measure, and zoro just shakes his head. the resolve in his expression does not waver even once.

sanji breaks.

"yes." the word scrapes itself out of his throat seconds before arms are going around him, and he sobs. lets the swordsman bring them both to the kitchen floor as he curls up in zoro's lap, fingers clawing into his white shirt, numb with how hard he cries because nobody, nobody has ever stayed. not without him getting hurt in the process. he pushes them away when he gets scared and they let him and then it becomes his fault when it all blows up in his face, but zoro's not leaving, and it's so foreign to him that he's shaking so badly and he can't stop.

a warm, heavy palm smooths over his spine and he lets himself be shifted closer, settles sideways as zoro wraps an arm over his shins and rocks them until his breathing evens out. the embarrassment hits like a gut punch; he knows he looks like a mess, face blotchy and hair everywhere and eyes puffy as hell, but zoro cards his bangs out of his eyes and looks at him like he doesn't care, and sanji turns away.

he feels... fragile. like he's made of tinted glass and spun sugar, like he'll cave in at the slightest touch. there is something melting in his chest and it drips down over his ribs; pools fresh as a river in spring, offset by the grounding presence of zoro's hands on his skin. "don't say i didn't warn you," he mumbles, masking his very real fear behind a layer of watery bravado as he hides his face in zoro's shoulder, and of course, of course zoro sees right through him.

the swordsman's thumb traces the swirl of his eyebrow before zoro rests his chin on top of sanji's head. "i don’t listen. you know that."

you know me, is what goes unsaid, and sanji doesn't deign to reply. he buries his face into zoro's chest and breathes in the smell of steel and sword oil and— he sits up slightly, eyes narrowing. "you've been stealing my deodorant, yes or no." the way zoro stills momentarily is a dead giveaway, and he yelps when the swordsman flicks his forehead.

"would you rather i be stinky?" zoro scoffs, rolling his eyes gently as sanji settles back down with a huff.

"you still are stinky. if we're gonna be together i'm expecting you to shower at least once every two days—" zoro groans, and he powers through, raising his voice, "—and if you aren't fussy i'll let you shower with me."

the way zoro instantly stops complaining cracks a laugh out of him. it's weak and watered-down, but it's a start. zoro's hands slide back into his hair and he hums as he lets his eyes fall shut.

the moon's full tonight. their ship rocks gently, and sanji gets comfortable; zoro's warm and solid and happens to make a perfectly respectable pillow. the thought that he can have this now sends a thrill through him.

he's not a fool. he's not optimistic when it comes to this. when it comes to love.

but with zoro's thumb rubbing mindless circles against the side of his thigh and a kiss pressed to the top of his head, he's got a pretty good feeling about this time around.

[orionsangel86]

Somewhere Michael Sheen is watching the latest episodes of OFMD and taking notes lmao

[musubiki]

moments of overflowing desire

[sunglassesmish]

what an ass kicking huh

[pretty-boy4ngel]

aww you’re stalking my account? spam liking all my silly little posts? you must really what you see, huh?

no need to be shy, love, you’re feelings are perfectly natural!! why don’t you come over here and i can fix that little problem you caused in your pants? you think you can do that for me baby?

[bonefall]

while i do agree with the sentiment that bloodclan should be more nuanced as an entity i still believe it is wrong to portray them as the necessary "response" to clan injustice (haven't read the books in years but i am pretty sure that bloodclan started with no connection to the clans) / an opposition to the clan's flaws. some of the thing scourge did was out of selfishness and bloodclan isn't the other colour of the black and white debacle with the clans. the clans are heavily flawed yes, but it isn't realistic to completely say that their structure had no redeeming qualities altogether and that all outsider groups is fundamentally better than the clans.

all clans and groups are flawed in their own way and i believe we shouldnt brush past the things that other groups (the sisters and what they do with their toms *cough cough*) did solely to be able to degrade the clans and their culture.

Buddy, you're setting up a strawman. I promise you that if you look into the reduxes I've made of BloodClan, Guardians, The Sisters, and the Tribe, you will see that I don't make any of them a "flawless" alternative to Clan life.

Nor do I say that the Clans have no redeeming qualities. In fact, you can browse the "Clan Culture" tag to see the various expansions I've made to show how these traditions, values, and technological advances make Clan life so alluring.

The overarching theme of BB is that the nature of culture is change. For better AND for worse.

With respect, I think there's something insidious in the wording of "the things the other groups did." We're talking about fan responses to a work that consistently demonizes and degrades foreigners to make the Clans look like the "best way to live," justifying xenophobia. These are not real groups, they are writing choices.

In the franchise with some pretty extreme examples of misogyny, the authors said "What if bizarro world where women rule and have no men... woag..." and only includes a single Clan-alligned member of this culture, with a BAD opinion of them, who can't even do his diplomatic job because he HATES them so much.

In the same franchise that shows Fireheart getting bullied, facing prejudice, and fighting a murderous tyrant who publically executes a mixed-race character, their endgame villain is an outsider, like him, but this one IS a godless heathen who HATES love and friendship and banned families.

In the VERY same franchise which made its first non-malicious group barely able to get through an arc without needing to be saved by Clan cats, totally unable to defend themselves, framed as "whiny" for not wanting their clearly 'inferior' culture to be forcefully changed.

And I'm re-stating all this because, again, no offense to you in particular Anon, but I've been seeing a few people with a sentiment like yours lately. Complaints into a vacuum that don't make targeted critique of anyone's fanworks, gesturing at this broad "woobification" which is apparently out there somewhere over the rainbow, saying things like "well Scourge is selfish" or "well Moonlight abandoned her 13 year old" as if we haven't BEEN knew.

As if we're not all directly responding to these choices. As if I haven't written ESSAYS on this topic.

Since this was about BloodClan in particular though, and you admit you haven't read the books in years, please go back and actually read Rise of Scourge before trying to make critique of the ways fanon rewrites its origin. It's EXPLICITLY a response to the Clans, in the text, that the Erins wrote, it is canon that fanon is working with.

And you want people to take that out and approach it a different way... why? Because it's so incredulous to you that a nation forms in response to a threatening neighbor? That a common enemy through invasions is a way that people might choose to unite, and encourage their new culture to value brutality? Because you don't like the idea of Clan Culture's XENOPHOBIC BATTLE CULTURE affecting surrounding communities??

Could YOU, maybe, be doing this "woobification" thing I keep hearing about? Can I play this stupid game too? What's our stupid prize? Can it be a lollipop? Do we get stickers

TL;DR, ok.

[bisexualalienss]

DOCTOR WHO

2.04 ☆ "The Girl in the Fireplace"

[arsenicflame]

🕯 prayer circle for an angry, wall shoving, stizzy kiss in s2 🕯

[scholastic-dragon]

Flufftober Day 17: Up Against the Wall Kiss

Leonardo x Gn!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: turtle smootches (my favorite), established relationship, nervous and flustered Leo, idiots in love, spelling mistakes, 

Summary: Leo's too shy to initiate your first kiss; you're not.

Leo was a gentleman.

Sometimes a little too much so.

He was ever so sweet and thoughtful. Always pulling out your chair, offering you a hand when climbing down the manhole ladder.

It's what drew you to him. He had a heart of gold hidden behind his strong chest and he'd given you the honor of calling it yours.

Two and a half months into your relationship and you hadn't stopped smiling. You were sure he hasn't either.

That wasn't to say it was without fault. It took a bit of work in the beginning, he sat you down and sheepishly explained how nervous he was and that he wanted to take things slow. You agreed and allowed him the time to open up about his boundaries. 

After that, things only got better and better. He texted you whenever he could, sometimes thoughtful messages, others funny pictures and memes and sometimes simply 'I miss you'

You couldn't complain. You shouldn't complain. And yet....he's yet to kiss you. You can tell he wants to.

Getting ready to leave your apartment after dinner and a movie, perched on the windowsill, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips.

Then he bids you goodnight and ducks out of the window.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t bother you. It was clear he wanted to kiss you: so why hadn’t he?

Deciding it was time for a change, you invite him over for another dinner and movie. He accepts without question. 

You feel nervous throughout the whole evening, it wasn’t a big deal, was it? 

“Are you alright, love?” Leo asks, gently putting his hand over yours. His palm alone engulfs your whole hand, he’s warm and comforting and pulls you out of your thoughts. 

You shake your head, forcing a smile. “Yeah, yeah, I’m okay, just got some stuff on my mind,” You take a sip of your drink, hoping your face wasn’t as red as you felt. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He squeezes your hand, smiling warmly: why was he so handsome?

“We probably should,” You scoff, exhaling sharply. He raises an eyebrow, rolling his shoulders back. “It’s nothing bad,” You’re quick to amend, not wanting him to assume the worst. 

“What is it? You can tell me,” 

“I know I can, I just, well, I’m not sure how to go about it,” You start to ramble, feeling a blush creeping across your cheeks. “There’s something I want us to do and I know some part of you does, but if I’m going too fast or you feel uncomfortable you can just tell me and I’ll back off, but-” 

“Love,” He quietly laughs, “Deep breaths, okay? You don’t need to be nervous,” 

You take a deep breath, rolling your shoulders back and meeting his bright eyes. 

“I....I want to....to kiss you,” You were sure his heart stopped. He inhaled sharply, shoulders going back, eyes wide. He looked like he stopped breathing. “Leo?”

“I....um....uh,” He looked away, hand rubbing the back of his neck. You were sure if he could he’d be bright red. 

“If that’s too much right now we don’t have too,” You squeeze his hand. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do,”

He sighs, whispering as if he were saying something he shouldn’t. “I want to, I-I just,” He runs his free hand down his face, clearing his throat. 

“It’s okay if you’re not ready,” Reaching across the table you tilt his chin toward you. “I just wanted to let you know that whenever you’re ready to take that step, I’m here,” 

He smiles, a small sigh of relief escaping him. He takes your hand from under his chin and presses three firm kisses to your knuckles. 

“And I’m so grateful for how patient your being, and how you’re willing to take this slow.” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, unsure of how to word his statement. “I want to....to kiss you, but, I’m nervous,” 

“Nervous about what, honey?” He lowers his hand, still holding yours, to the table, not meeting your eyes. 

“You’d be my first kiss and I’m afraid I’m not going to do it right,” He mumbles, running his thumb across the back of your hand. 

You smile, taking both of your hands and cupping his. “That’s alright, Leo, we’ll learn together, okay?” 

He nods, exhaling a deep breath. Not wanting to stress him out more, you offer to snuggle on the couch with a movie. He agrees, helping you pack away the leftover food and rinse the dishes. Now you’re wrapped up in his arms watching a cheesy Christmas movie. 

“Is there a reason why we’re watching a Christmas movie in the middle of October?” He mumbles into your hair. 

You shake you head. “Makes me happy, I love Christmas,” Your back is pressed up against his chest, you feel him chuckle softly, wrapping his arms tighter around your waist. 

The movie goes by quick and now you’re back to the same spot. He’s putting on his gear and shoes, telling you the schedule for the next week and when you both can hangout. 

He opens your window and turns around, looming over you. 

“I’ll text you later?” He gives his classic boyish smile, eyes soft and he reaches for your hands. 

“Yes, you should,” You giggle, squeezing his hands, looking up into his blue eyes. 

The moment happens again, eyes flickering back and forth between your lips. He leans forward; this is it, he’s gonna do it. He leans at the last second, pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek. 

Damn it. 

He sheepishly pulls back, clearly a little embarrassed. 

“Leo?” He hums, not wanting to speak. “Do you want me to initiate the kiss?” He swallows hard, adams apple bobbing, he nods eagerly. 

Smiling you push on the hard plates of his chest, his eyes go wide but he lets you move him until his shell bumps the wall. You take his face in your hands, gently adjusting his mask. 

“Ready?” He nods again, licking his lips. 

Your thumbs running along his cheekbones, you lean up on your tiptoes, tilting your face to meet his. His lips are considerably larger than yours, but are warm and soft. He’s gentle, afraid he might mess up, but you feel his shoulders loosen. 

You pull away, trying not to giggle as he leans forward, recapturing your lips. His hands, shakily, go to your waist, pulling you closer. Gaining a small spark of confidence, he splays his palms across your back, holding you close. 

Needing air, you pull away, panting heavily you meet his eyes. He’s smiling and panting as much, if not more, than you are. 

“How was that for a first kiss?” You giggle, kissing his chin. 

“Not sure, perhaps you should give me another,” He leans in, pressing his lips to yours again. 

He was such a gentleman. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

tags: @flufftober @turtle-babe83 @thelaundrybitch @mysticboombox @strawberrycakeblog

[hutahuta]

I SAW PAVIA AND STARTED SPRINTING, THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE

Maybe some headcannons about a protective Pavia? I mean, being a mercenary probably has gotten him some (read as a lot) of enemies, especially considering he’s good at his job! So it wouldn’t be a surprise if his partner got targeted as a way of getting to him. Obviously, Pavia’s not gonna let that happen, not by a long shot. Maybe hurt/comfort in a way? And gender neutral if it’s okay!

P.AGE OO.2 — 𝐃𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐔𝐌 & NOBILITY : 交 ✦ ⏱

thank you for requesting, i hope you like this <333 ( •̀∀•́ )ﾗ✧ !

Unfortunately for him, Pavia bore the scars of a life that was etched by loss and fleeting connections. No human ever got as close as you did with him, so it was important to protect such things. Yes?

His heart encased in solid steel and armour, found solace in the comfort of your arms. Yes, this man was laid back most of the time, but under that thick smile of purity and hearty laughs, he wanted to keep you forever as his own.

Embellished in jewels and tied and restrained for himself. Guarded by his sole bonds of his canine family, he couldn't possibly think of letting you be exposed to the outside danger out there.

Every beat of his heart echoed with the lingering memories of his past separations. His bond broken with his family and his scarred nature of a relationship broken down with his aunt. He doesn't know how to handle such things, he wasn't taught proper coping mechanisms.

You, vulnerable to attacks, not necessarily naive but still innocent as a feather; are more susceptible to violence catered by Pavia's enemies surrounding him on a day-to-day basis..

And—,, the thought maliciously stabs him every single time. To see you lying in your own warm, pool of blood. He hated the sight, and vowed to always keep you with him, safe and sound even if it meant his own skin will be torn apart. Pavia, originally, had nothing left to lose. He had nothing to go down with. His legacy was scarred with the torment of his past. His family had no connections with him whatsoever, and he planned to keep it that way.

This fear, an indelible mark left by the merciless hands of fate, propelled Pavia to assume the role of a vigilant guardian. He shielded his beloved with unwavering determination, an impassable fortress erected to defy the encroaching shadows of abandonment.

Skeletal hands trace the outline of your jawline towards the base of your neck, leaving lingering touches that'll never fade away for months to come. You'll always remember how he told you.

` Non allontanarti troppo dal mio cammino.. Amore. `

Which meant, ' Don't stray too far from my path, love. ' His hands firmly gripped your waist, leaving soft kisses that marked the vow of his undying love for you.

He shudders to think of your figure being manhandled by someone who would bruise such tender skin of yours, to discard your love and treat you like nothing but a used rug. You're nothing of the sort, to him.

Precious diamonds and jewels like you need to be treasured, kept under someone's eyes like Pavia's. Right?

It's conflicting, to say the least. You'd wonder why he's so protective when it's mixed with such a lazed stare. A laid-back figure who offers you juice and drinks at parties and festivals. But he isn't stupid enough to let you wander too far. Just think what could happen-

Someone kidnaps you, holds you for ransom? Knowing Pavia, he's smart enough to go along with such plans then storm into the area himself and take you back. Leaving only the echoes of men screaming, bodies thudding against the floor as they get a bullet launched into their skulls.

That won't happen though, right? He's not stupid enough to let you go like that..

Pavia struggles to keep himself from being too overprotective to the point you feel suffocated, to being too laid-back that it makes him seem uncaring and unloving. He wants to let you go do your own thing, after all.. that's why he loves you, right? That's why he fell in love with you.

But it pains him to think that now you've officially established something deep with him, he could be at fault for your uneasy, incoming death. You're at heavy risk if you step too close to the edge of his outside perimeter.. That's why-

You stay with him. Right beside him.

Excuse him when he pulls you closer by his waist when near enormous crowds and traffic during festivities.

Don't mind his behaviour as he trails a hand down your thigh to subtly mark to others that you have not one, not two, not even three, but a whole family of dogs watching over your guard.

You have eyes on you 24/7. Don't forget that. Now you're with him, it's important you try to manage your way through this skilfully with the intent to have the best possible outcome with your protective little man.

Safe to say, he won't let anything bad happen as I stated previously. Just as long as you follow the rules he gave. It's his way of trying to tell you that he has boundaries and he wants you to stick with him almost every time both of you are out.

His protective stance wasn’t fueled by dominance but rather by a desperation to defy the cruel whims of destiny, to safeguard the one person who illuminated the shadows of his tumultuous existence. In their presence, Pavia found a fragile haven, one he fiercely guarded against the specter of loss that loomed ominously over his turbulent life.

As you know, despite Pavia’s instinctive urge to shield you, he wrestled with the awareness that his protective demeanor might eventually suffocate the relationship. To counterbalance his guarded nature, Pavia embarked on a path of intentional vulnerability, striving to open up the vault of his emotions..

He tends to be honest with you then and there, but often finds himself leading the conversation into something else more uplifting. All in his worries that you might see him as him trying to justify his actions, which is possibly why he cannot exactly open up fully. That, and he just can't help but talk about other stuff mid-sentence. Learning more about you, your boundaries, your silly interests is just.. more of a reason to keep you safe.

He doesn't know communication skills all that well. But he takes it on after you, so guide him properly and heal those scars that may linger for a life time.

But if you stick around, he's sure to let go of the tension on his shoulders a few times and enjoy quality time with you without the doubt you'd potentially get harmed in the process of your relationship. <3

[jayjay-thejet-plane]

POSE REFERENCE #2: Pushed up against a wall kiss❤️ (additional images below cut)

[youraveragecatastrophe]

and they were partners! oh my god they were partners...

Do you ever think about how in the original Treasures of knowledge game, Carmen and Jules were partners at ACME and probably had all sorts of adventures together? do you?? because i do, all the time

[blue-hail]

The fact that you can take any scene, and I mean any scene, of Will and Hannibal after ep 6 season 2 and have them drop everything to make out and It would make sense to my brain.

Every single time they are in a room together the tension gets so thick, so edible, that it makes you wonder “wait are they about to kiss??”