#also head touches and combing have always seemed affectionate to me

[anney-baker]

nandermo + head/hair touches

[neoheros]

scissors in between your fingers as you comb through atsumu’s hair, still a bit fluttery that he trusted you enough to cut his hair for him, but still a tad nervous that you might mess up.

he sits on a kitchen stool with a white towel covering his shoulders, your scissors in your hands as you make one snip after the other, and you do you best to not seem as nervous as you actually feel.

“not too much.” atsumu tells you, excitedly sitting still on the small seat.

and you smile, “i know.”

a few steps away osamu frowns, a separate towel on his shoulders as he patiently waits, eyeing you and his brother as he vividly watches you be so careful with him.

“me next.” osamu chimes, reminding you that he’s also there waiting to have his hair cut.

and you nod, “i know.”

“don’t rush!” atsumu frowns, shooting his brother an annoyed look before scoffing, “samu can wait.”

osamu rolls his eyes, and atsumu scoffs harder, trying not to move so much under your touch, but spiteful enough to cross his arms.

you sigh, used to their antics, “i know.”

growing up with the miya twins only spelled two things for you — their annoyingly fierce loyalties and the fact that you’re involved in every decision they make.

you’re basically a third to them now, and as much as you’d want to complain, there’s nothing really to complain about.

being their best friend — osamu and atsumu’s — means they protect you, and it’s a silent bond they share; the fact that to them, you will always come first.

you continue adjusting the scissors as you cut atsumu’s hair, careful not to cut so much but mindful that not to cut too little.

you smile, “you guys ever heard of a barber?”

and osamu walks to your side, leaning on the wall as he watches you, and he gives you a smile, the one he has reserved for you, and he laughs, “i like the way you do my hair better.”

“you like it enough to pay me?” you look at him, raising a brow.

and he grins, “i like the way it’s free.”

osamu is nicer to you — he’s always been the one to walk you home when atsumu stayed behind, he’d always have an extra bento box prepared for you and there’d always be an excuse as to why.

you’d tell him your forgot your jacket and he’d call you an idiot while giving you his. you’d tell him you were feeling sick and thirty minutes later he’s at your door with food and medicine and the insistent urge to take care of you.

osamu — quiet and observant — has always had a soft spot to show you he likes you.

“focus on my hair please.” atsumu pulls your attention back to him, his hand on your wrist as he lightly tugs.

you laugh, “so demanding.”

and osamu rolls his eyes, “try living with him”

and your shoulders rise, “i think i do.”

atsumu — far different from his brother — is fierce with his affections. he’s blunt and stoic, not once hesitating to call people out when they make you upset.

you tell him someone’s bothering you, the next day he makes them apologize. you forget your umbrella at home, he insists you take his because he doesn’t mind walking in the rain (he minds but he minds it more if you get sick). you call him at three am, he’ll stumble out of bed — drowsy and tired — just to listen to you talk about the one weird dream you had of him.

atsumu knows he isn’t the most affectionate person in the world, but when he walks you out the door and tells you “see you tomorrow,” he never fails to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“next we can do yer hair!” atsumu chimes, grinning as he pushes off the chair to see his new hair cut.

osamu nods, grinning with his brother, “he’s right.”

you rolls your eyes, nervously taking a step back, and you shake your head, “that’s not going to happen.”

osamu takes the seat atsumu just stood up from, his hand taking yours and he places it carefully on the side of his face.

he tells you, “my turn.”

and you smile, “i know.”

osamu knows how much atsumu likes you and that’s because he likes you just as much.

and atsumu knows how osamu stares at you, because that’s the way he stares at you too.

but you’re fair game.

a gray area, and atsumu knows, just as well as osamu, that no matter what they feel for you, or who feel for you more, they couldn’t risk the chance that you might not even like them back.

so atsumu looks at you — the way osamu does — so full of wonder and curiosity of what it would be like to be at the receiving end of your affections, and he hopes that you choose, and he hopes that you choose him.

[rocorambles]

Perfect

Pairing: Akaashi x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Yandere, Toxic Relationships, Manipulation, Non-Con/Dub-Con, Forced Impregnation

Prompt: “I told you to stay still”

Summary: The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step?

Author’s Note: This is my contribution for my HQ Discord Server’s NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this spicy prompt. (Masterlist goes live Tuesday 6th October 11:00pm U.K. time!) 

Akaashi’s always been an overthinker. He can admit that. He knows it’s a flaw he’s always had and could never seem to shake off. But just because he realizes it doesn’t mean he does anything about it. And the overwhelming pressure he places on himself in everything he does only fuels the suffocating thoughts until they’re screaming in his head. Unfortunately for you, his sweet darling wife, that only means terrible things for you and suddenly every move you make is alarming, every word you say is suspicious, every breath you take painstakingly monitored. 

Akaashi just wants to be the perfect husband, the perfect lover, the perfect provider. He wants the two of you to be the perfect happily married couple, to live the perfect domestic life. So after years of playing house, of devoting all his attention and love on you, of spoiling you rotten with everything you could possibly want, when you tell him you aren’t ready to have children yet, he feels his cool facade slip and the incessant thoughts begin to drown him. 

The perfect couple always has children. Multiple children. A full family. A house full of laughter and home-cooked meals. And you two are the epitome of a perfect couple. So why are you still so hesitant about taking the next big step? Are you tired of him? Do you not want to have kids with him? Are you planning on leaving him? 

You nervously shift from foot to foot, intimidated by the chaos you see in blue eyes and you tentatively reach out to your husband, trying to understand what’s wrong, but you sigh in relief as he jolts at your touch, staring blankly at you before setting his face back to its usual serene countenance, slightly smiling at you as he nods in understanding and affectionately kisses your forehead. This is the Akaashi you’d fallen in love with and you happily sigh as you wrap your arms around his waist, letting yourself be rocked in his arms in a warm embrace, ignorant of how his face hardens as soon as his chin is tucked above your head, eyes thoughtful, mind scheming. 

It takes some coaxing, some patient conversations during your most vulnerable moments when you were still groggily rubbing the sleep out of your eyes or yawning as you lay your head on the pillow to sleep at night, but he finally gets his answers and he smiles in endearment as you worry about whether or not you’re ready to be a mom. Would you even be a good mom? Oh. He’s sure you’re going to be the perfect mother and he makes a mental note to prove that to you until you see it for yourself, but he’s grateful for the darkness that hides his grimace when you go on to talk about how you also want to focus on your career for now. It’s not that Akaashi is against women working. He doesn’t hate how happy and fulfilled you feel as you ramble on and on about work, about your coworkers, about your salary and title. He just thinks you’d be even more perfect as his pretty little housewife and he quietly plans and strategizes as your breathing gets heavier and heavier until you’re fast asleep besides him on your shared bed. 

He waits until your chest rises and falls in even rhythms before reaching over for your phone. You’ve always been so trusting, probably too trusting of him, but that works in his favor now as he flawlessly types in your password and dives into your alarms and work emails. A swipe there, a deletion here. He meticulously combs through your phone turning off your alarms, deleting important meetings, getting rid of urgent emails waiting for your response before he quietly places your phone on the nightside table by you, pleased with his work and he closes his own eyes, a small smile on his face as he peacefully sleeps. 

Luckily, he leaves for work much earlier than you, so he’s out the door before you can even realize the messy day you’re about to have and he can’t be blamed for not waking you up when your alarm doesn’t go off. He patiently waits and waits, glancing at his phone every now and then, waiting for the onslaught of panicked and distressing texts he knows you’ll send his way as your day gets progressively worse and worse. And sure enough, his phone vibrates over and over again as you send a flurry of texts steeped in negative emotions and like the perfect husband he is, he sends the consoling and comforting notes you need. And when you call, crying and sobbing about being yelled at, about how awful at your job you are, he’s there to soothe you. 

“Don’t cry, love. It’s not your fault. You’re an amazing woman. Maybe this just isn’t the right job for you or the right company for you.” 

He plants the seeds of doubt in your mind and you let them be watered by the sweet suggestions he sprinkles on you. And with just a few more flicks of his wrist in the middle of the night when you’re asleep, ignorant of your phone being used without your knowledge, and a little bit of time, you’re finally fired and he’s there, rushing back home to wrap you in his arms. But he smiles when instead of being distraught, you merely sit there quietly as you tuck yourself against him. 

“Maybe this just wasn’t the right job for me, Keiji.”

He encourages you to take some time off from the workforce. You had worked so hard for so long. You deserve a break. And you mindlessly nod along to his silky voice. Relaxing does sound nice. You had thrown yourself into your job so much that you’d forgotten what it was like to have so much free time and you begin to excitedly ponder what hobbies you could pick up to fill the days, what projects around the house you could finally get done.    

Akaashi sighs when his alarm goes off the next morning, but he sits up in confusion when the smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts through the air and he blearily turns to your side of the bed, freezing when he finds it empty. But his groggy mind begins to put two and two together and he rushes towards the kitchen where he feels like his heart might burst at the sight of you humming, an apron daintily wrapped around you as you pour a generous amount of dark caffeine in his favorite mug. And he can’t stop himself from closing the distance between you as he tenderly wraps you in his arms, turning you around until you’re face to face as he captures your lips in a good morning kiss. He wants every morning to be like this, he thinks, as he mentally captures the image of you smiling and waving goodbye to him from the apartment door. The perfect loving wife seeing her husband off.

You spend your long days at home tidying up the house, decorating spaces in the house you’d always wanted to spruce up but never had time to before, spending hours in the kitchen cooking and baking everything you’d always wanted to try. It’s nice to fall into a domestic rhythm with Akaashi and work is far from your mind as you cheerily greet your husband when he comes home, as the two of you pleasantly chat while he eats the piping hot delicious meal you’ve prepared for him, as he hand feeds you the brownies you had made as the two of you sit on the couch and watch a show together.

But as time goes on, you find yourself twiddling your thumbs a bit with just a little too much idle time on your hand now that the interior of the apartment is exactly up to your dream standards of cleanliness and decor. And you can’t help but wonder how nice it would be to have a small child running about the place, keeping you company while Akaashi is away at work. You freeze when the thought crosses your mind and your brows furrow in confusion. Where had that thought come from? You’d never wanted kids before. And yet...You quickly shove that fleeting idea to the back of your mind as you refold laundry that had already been handled, throwing yourself into anything that could distract you from the strange desires plaguing your mind. 

Little do you know how much Akaashi has influenced you in the time you’ve been stuck at home. Little do you know that the daily evening walks he takes you on after dinner are always purposefully done around the nearby children parks. Little do you know that the little comments and remarks he makes about how adorable that child is, how silly this child is aren’t as offhand as you think. They’re strategically strung together words just for you and he slightly smiles when he sees them weaving through your mind as your eyes soften and a longing smile begins to tug at your lips when you turn to look at what he’s talking about. Little do you know that it’s no accident when the two of you go shopping and find yourselves passing aisles of children’s toys and clothing. And Akaashi feels his chest tighten with affection when you unconsciously skim your fingers over the tiny shoes and onesies, asking him for his opinions. 

“Aren’t these cute, Keiji?” 

And he nods his head as he reaches down to hold your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours as you continue perusing. 

He knows he almost has you right where he wants you. He can almost see the cogs turning in your head, see you imagining a life with him and a family...your own little family. It’s time for the final step and he secretly keeps tabs on the convenient period tracking app you have on your phone waiting and waiting until your next ovulation period and when it comes, you squeal in surprise when he impatiently whisks you off to your shared bedroom and presses you down onto the bed as soon as he steps into the house after work. 

His movements are so hurried, so rough, so unlike how Akaashi normally is, but you eagerly reciprocate, excited to see this side of your husband and you’re a moaning, writhing mess as he bites and sucks every inch of your skin, a trail of red skin following in his wake as he marks up your neck, collarbones, and breasts. You’re already dripping wet by the time he finally reaches down to rub your clit and slip his fingers inside of you and your hips buck up into his touch, urging him for more. Your head is swirling with lust and you whine when he briefly slips away to guide the tip of his cock against your leaking hole and you shudder in desire when you feel him running his tip along your slit. But even in your dazed state, you feel yourself hesitate a bit when you see that he isn’t using a condom. 

“Keiji, I’m ovulating. You need to use a cond- AH!”

You’re cut off as he slides his cock inside of you, your slick walls greedily sucking him in with little resistance and you try to muster up the words to repeat yourself, but you can’t articulate anything as he leans down to suck a perky nipple as he begins to thrust in and out of you in a sensual, but thorough pattern, making sure you can feel every inch of him rubbing against your clenching walls, making sure you can feel him sink balls deep inside of him, making sure you can feel him stimulate the spongy spot inside of you that has you seeing stars. And you give up, trusting that he’d at least pull out before he cums, and you lose yourself to the feeling of being so used and filled, feeling the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter, and when blue eyes gaze down at you and he hungrily leans down to capture your lips in a searing kiss, you fall over the edge, your pleasured wails swallowed by your husband’s lips as he chases his own end. 

You lay there in mind numbing bliss as he continues to sink in and out of your tight heat, letting out little mewls of overstimulation, but when you feel the erratic rhythm of his thrusts and you see the telltale look on his face as he closes his eyes that indicate he’s close and he makes no attempt to pull out, you weakly shake his shoulders, squirming and wriggling your body from underneath him as you try to pull away. 

“K-Keiji, NGH you can cum on me. Okay? AH B-but, you can’t cum inside me.” 

You scream when large hands roughly grab your waist in a bruising grip and forcefully pull you down until he’s fully inside you once again. 

“Stay still.” 

You whimper, trying to be good for him, but anxiety is beginning to cloud your pleasure and you struggle once again, pleading with him and telling him you don’t want to get pregnant. But you keen when that only spurs him on to fuck you rougher, harder, deeper and your eyes roll back as you try to register the almost painful overstimulation you’re going through. 

“I told you to stay still.” 

And this time you do stay still, unable to do anything else but lay there like a good obedient wife as he pistons in and out of you, your mouth open in a persistent silent scream as your hands desperately scramble to find purchase in the rumpled bed sheets and you brokenly moan when he finally shoves inside of you with one final thrust and your stomach feels hot as spurts of liquid spill inside of you.

You’re in shock as he stays buried inside of you, trapping your body with his as he lays down on top of you, nuzzling and kissing the crook of your neck as he keeps his cum inside of you and you’re not sure how much time passes as you just lay there, mind blank as you try to come to terms with what had just happened. But when you feel his cock begin to twitch and harden inside of you once more, you frantically try to push him away from you, try to separate yourself from him. 

“Keiji, stop it! I need to go get Plan B or something. I-” 

Your mind is a chaotic swirl as you try to figure out next steps to avoid this unwanted pregnancy and you think you might throw up at the idea of being pregnant, having a child, all so suddenly, so fast. 

You’re not ready. You’re not ready. You’re not ready. 

Your thoughts are shattered to pieces when you’re shoved back down onto the mattress and you loudly wail when Akaashi begins an unforgiving pace once again, brutally slamming his hips into yours, his cum acting as lubrication, making it easier for him to plow into you and take you over and over again. And the last coherent thought you have is that you were such a fool to not realize just how much stronger, how much larger Akaashi is compared to you as your attempts to shake him off are easily ignored by the man above you. 

You don’t know how much time has passed. It feels like an eternity and you’re not sure how you’re still conscious as Akaashi breeds you over and over again. Your mouth is open in a persistent silent scream, your eyes are rolled so far back in your head you can barely see, tears and drool mar your face. Everything feels so good, too good, and you can’t stop sobbing from the overwhelming pleasure you feel as Akaashi keeps on spilling load after load of sticky white liquid inside of you and you curl into Akaashi’s body instinctively for comfort when he sinks down on top of you, exhaustion finally catching up with him. And the two of you just lay there, chests heaving as you both heavily pant, his flaccid cock still buried inside of you, plugging his cum inside of you. And even though you want to yell at him, to be angry at him for forcing this on you, you’re so spent, head empty of anything except for Akaashi that you let yourself be maneuvered until you’re both on your sides, facing each other, your lower bodies still intimately connected. 

You let out a little whimper when you feel a large hand gently stroke your cum-filled stomach, but you can feel your face and body grow hot when his other hand gently nudges your chin up to look at him and you see the look of pure love and adoration in his eyes. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful with your belly bulging with my children, our children.” 

You let out a breathy gasp when he teasingly fondles one of your pebbled nipples and palms your fleshy mound. 

“You’re going to look so beautiful when these swell up with milk. I wonder if our children would be willing to share some with their father.” 

Sweet word after word spills from his lips and you listlessly lay there listening to him go on and on, painting a picture of what your future lives together would look like, and before you can catch yourself from falling deeper into his trap, your mind betrays you and images flash across your vision and you unconsciously draw even nearer to Akaashi, cuddling into his body affectionately as picture perfect scenes of you braiding a little girl’s hair while Akaashi teaches a little boy how to play volleyball flicker across your imagination. And when Akaashi feels you gently place your hand on top of his hand that’s still cradling your stomach practically sloshing with the amount of liquid he’s gifted you with tonight, he knows he’s got you hook, line, and sinker. 

That night the two of you fall asleep, dreaming about the perfect life you’re going to have together.

[arknights-imagines]

waahh hi i love ur writing!! can i request an affectionate doctor having a sweet kissing session with executor + silverash? i just wanna give them a lot of affection and make them feel always loved 😭

Anon hiya!! 🥳 Tysm for this request sgsugshs it's so cute and I love it!! 😭🥺 Executor and SilverAsh are some of my favourites to write for sgsugshs 💕 I tried to make it as soft and lovey-dovey as I could so I hope you and everyone else likes it 👉👈

Also, because Executor's Birthday was July 7th I gave him some extra love in his part svshsv!! 🎂🥳 He deserves a break lolol 🥺 so Happy (late) Birthday Executor and happy reading to everyone!! 🥺🥳

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

Kissing sessions with Executor and SilverAsh

Imagine format; mixed perspectives! (written in second person)

Contains: SilverAsh, Executor, gender neutral Doctor as the reader, brief mentions of background characters, established relationships, kissing described in detail, lots of soft fluffiness 🥺, barely suggestive material in SilverAsh's part?? 🤔, Executor being hesitant and unsure in his part, reader/Doctor being very soft in both parts svjsgshs

Word count: 2.7k in total!

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

SILVERASH

“My dear...you’re still working?”

SilverAsh’s eyes had just read the last sentence of the novel in his hand, and now they looked at you with surprise. He had expected you to have lied down in your small bed with him by the time he closed his book - but as it turned out, you were still sat at your desk nearby and going through papers.

The Feline’s voice interrupting your work caused you to blink slowly, and then you turned your attention towards him, expression meek. “You’re awake? I thought you went to sleep…” “And I thought you would be away from your desk by now.” His reply came with a lift of the brow. SilverAsh set his book beside him before propping himself up on his forearm as you sighed, “I’m almost done, I’ll come to bed soon.”

Unconvinced, the Guard Operator stood from the bed, his height allowing him to make his way towards your desk in just a few strides. You had already picked your pen back up and returned to your papers by the time he set his hands on your shoulders - his touch gentle, but firm.

Before you could shoo him away, SilverAsh lowered his lips to your ear - his snow-coloured hair tickled your cheek and his breath was warm as he spoke in a low, smooth tone that met your ears like melted chocolate, “I must say, my dear…” He met your gaze from the corner of your eye before he continued, “I’ve stayed with you this entire evening, and yet I still find myself longing for you.”

When his gaze met yours, his eyes were warm and serious despite the playful lift of his brow. A quiet apology came from you in reply, one of your hands lifting to rub at your heavy eyelids. Humming in acknowledgment, the Feline’s hands left you momentarily in order to spin your desk chair around before they returned to your shoulders - this time his fingers slid down your arms and took your hands in his own.

You had expected him to gently usher you to bed, but what came instead made your eyes grow wide. In a few swift movements, SilverAsh took your place on your desk chair and pulled you to sit in his lap. A small chuckle left him as your eyes searched for his, surprise on your face; when his name left your lips in question, the Guard Operator tilted his head to the side in fake confusion. “Hah...that surprised look on your face, you amuse me so my dear.” His hands came to hold your waist, “You’re tense. Relax for me...after all, no one is better suited to bring you ease than me, isn't that right?”

His eyes were locked with yours, and with every word he whispered to you, he moved his lips closer to yours. He held this sincere warmth that was meant only for you in his gaze; when you looked carefully enough, a glimmer of desire was there as well. Despite that, SilverAsh patiently waited for your reply, his eyes flicking to your lips for a split second or two in order to silently communicate what he wanted from you.

His affectionate gaze caused some of the tension to fade from your body, and you sighed softly; your voice was almost inaudible when you replied, “That’s right, Enciodas.” There was only a sliver of space left between the both of you - you felt him smile before he muttered, “Very good…”

SilverAsh had been moving so slowly, and yet when his lips finally met yours it was as if all his patience left him; his head tilted in order to kiss you deeper and one of his hands drifted up from your waist to cup your jawline. The air around the both of you became warm, and so you practically melted into him. A few seconds into the kiss, your senses were null - but then it all comes rushing towards you.

Your papers are long forgotten when you lifted your hands from his chest to his hair. SilverAsh hummed gently against your lips as your fingers began combing through the fluffy locks - and when your touch grazed his snow leopard ears they twitched slightly, much to your amusement. You thought about taking a second to comment on it, but the Guard Operator didn't seem to want you to pull away, and so the thought faded quickly.

The Feline’s touch attracted all your focus, it’s so warm it's almost burning - or perhaps you were just flustered because of the close proximity, in all honesty, you were far too distracted by the kiss to tell the difference - and on his lips was the cool taste of peppermint. It was a stark contrast, the mix of hot and cold was so distinctive that you were sure you’d be thinking about it later on; though it was unbeknownst to you, SilverAsh certainly hoped so.

As the kiss came to a close both of you stilled, wordlessly taking in every detail of each other.

For someone who everyone said was ruthless and shrewd, SilverAsh encompassed so much tenderness in moments like these. When it came to you, his hands were so gentle, his voice was so soft, and his gaze was so warm; but no one else would ever be able to understand that side of him, because he reserved it for you and you only.

“E-Enciodas…” When the two of you finally broke away from each other, his name fell from your lips breathlessly. Taking his hand from your waist, he gently ran it up and down your back, “There you are, my dear. Ease up for me.” His soft gaze met yours, and a smile painted his lips when he noticed the rosy blush on your cheeks - you weren't expecting him to act so bold all of a sudden, but you had no complaints. Your head dropped to his shoulder, and he sighed in content as an easing warmth came over his own body. You were always so warm, so soft - he didn't want to ever let go of you.

The kiss had rendered the two of you a little speechless, and so for a while you both sat in serene silence. SilverAsh’s voice cut into the quietness softly after some time, “I apologize, it seems I was rather touch-starved and couldn't handle myself.” You shifted a little in his lap, but didn't say anything in reply. Lifting a brow, the Feline tilted his head in order to whisper into your ear - then your soft snoring met his ears.

He blinked, then a light chuckle came from his lips; you were fast asleep. Well, you had been working all day, so the Guard Operator was glad you were finally resting. If SilverAsh had known a kiss was all it took for you to relax, he would’ve had you asleep hours ago. That was alright, now he knew for next time.

Involuntarily, a grin came to his face as he shut his eyes and let his head rest against yours. Your lips had left a lingering warmth on his own; a warmth that the Feline found comforting, and maybe a little too pleasant. His smile grew - yes, SilverAsh was sure ‘next time’ would be happening quite soon.

EXECUTOR

You really couldn't thank Executor enough for allowing you to come along with him for his mission back at his home country - Laterano was truly breathtaking, from the architecture to the way all the citizens dressed. Considering your position as Rhodes Island’s tactical leader, you understood that accompanying Operators on their missions was a little dangerous and maybe not always necessary, but you had wanted to spend more time with the Sankta so he complied. After all, he could protect you if anything were to go wrong.

The view outside the window you were currently standing before almost felt like a dream. You understood that there was work to be done, and that Executor only agreed to stop at a hotel room because he knew you were both tired from talking around and trying to find intel pertaining to the mission but still - taking the time to relax couldn't hurt.

By the time you both settled into the hotel room, the sun had just begun to set; Executor had explained that it was going to be an uneventful evening, mostly just paperwork and going through flies.

“Doctor,” As cool and steady as always, Executor’s voice cut into your silence - your rapt attention went to him as he approached you, moving into your peripheral vision, “You should take this time to rest. Our work tomorrow begins very early in the morning, and I do not know when we will be able to have a break.” As you turned to face him an appreciative smile came to your lips, “You should rest too, Executor.” A shake of the head came in reply, which wasn't much of a surprise; “Do not worry about me. The Notarial Hall has requested that I complete multiple reports about the work we accomplished today, so I have no room to rest for very long.”

Your smile fell slightly. He had more work to do on top of what had already been assigned to him by Amiya? The Sankta before you took note of your mood shift right away; eyes thoughtful, he blinked for a second then spoke once more in a softer tone, “...However, if you wish for me to take some time to rest with you, then very well.” A little sheepishly, you looked off to the side before admitting that you were concerned with all the work he was deluging himself with. A bit of warmth broke onto Executor’s usually calm, unreadable facial expression as he began to remove his distinctive uniform coat; “I appreciate that. I do not want to cause you to worry over my wellbeing, so I will take some time to rest.”

Pleased, your grin returned - wider this time. The Sniper Operator’s demeanor grew warmer at your visible content. Quiet, he joined you in staring out at the sunset beyond the hotel room window. The air around you two was quiet, serene; but something was pulling on inside your chest, wanting to move closer to Executor. And so, your hand found his, and ever-so-slowly you laced your fingers together. Under your unexpected touch, the Sankta stiffened by a hair. He read something on your face, something that caused him to drop the formalities and call you by the nickname he had started getting used to addressing you as, “Hm...yes, love?”

Too focused on how your hand felt in his, you didn't reply. Instead, you turned to meet his gaze with a soft smile on your lips; a few emotions you couldn't distinguish flashed behind Executor’s eyes for but a split second at the affectionate expression on your face, before the coolness in the blue of his gaze melted into warmth.

His eyebrows furrowed together slightly as he stared back at you, and he opened and closed his mouth a few times before finding his words, “...Please excuse me, I… I cannot read your expression.” Emotions weren’t the Sankta’s strong-suit in any sense, but considering how understanding you had always been towards him, he wasn’t afraid to admit so. Voice just above a whisper, you assured him it was alright and let him know he could come a little closer. His hand remained in yours as he did so, shoulders tight and posture a little tense while his free hand hovered a little awkwardly at your side; you chimed with a light laugh at his behaviour, “It’s okay, you can touch me Executor.”

Executor was a little uncertain, but after a few seconds his hand settled comfortably on your waist and the other squeezed your hand ever-so-gently. Then he admitted to you quietly, “I am unsure on where to put my hands.” You shook your head, “This is perfect, don't worry.” The space between the both of you was barely a sliver as you leaned closer to him, expression still full of affection; his eyes flicked down to your lips, and yours glanced at his. Facial cues were something the Sniper Operator failed to understand, but the warmth balling itself in his chest told him to pull you closer. His mind told him that this wasn't appropriate, that his focus should be on his mission and his work, not on you; but the tugging in both his chest and yours was so intense that there was no use pulling back now.

And so, the Sankta finally broke the silence. “Love?” He paused, debating on whether or not he should speak, before mumbling his words against your mouth slowly, “May I kiss you?” He didn't have to ask - you replied in a small nod and Executor wasted no time closing the space between your lips and his own.

Gentle, careful; those weren’t words the others at Rhodes Island would associate Executor with, and yet that was all that ran through your mind when his lips captured yours. And his lips, they tasted sweet; as if he had just eaten a slice of cake or a spoonful of sugar. It was so stark considering how cold and stoic he appeared, but you couldn’t help but adore it. It was almost poetic - maybe you were the only one who would be able to witness and receive this sweetness from the Sankta.

He leaned into your touch when your hand came to cradle his cheek, and his arm slipped around your waist in order to pull you closer - so close that he was certain you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. But that was what he wanted and you allowed him to do so. Your fingers began running through his hair, pushing the white strands away from his face. Executor almost melting. The Sankta’s usual mechanic mind completely malfunctioned at both your close proximity and touch; every gear jammed and every cog stopped turning.

For Executor, this was so utterly odd. On the battlefield, the Sniper Operator was anything but hesitant; when his gun was in his hands, he knew exactly what to do. But with you - when it was you in his hands, his mind was overcome with uncertainty and all his thoughts became incoherent, all because of you. It always made his chest fill with warmth, it always made his stomach flutter, it always made his heart beat too fast, and yet it always felt so right.

When the Sankta ran out of air, he broke away gently; his eyes slipped open to meet your own as he rested his face in your palm. Your voice was soft against his lips, “Are you okay?” Giving you the softest expression, he unwrapped his arm from your waist so he could hold your hand to his cheek, “Yes love...thank you. This may not make any sense to you, but I feel almost energetic now.” A small chuckle came from you in reply. “You’re welcome, Executor. If you’re feeling so eager, we can get back to work in...just a minute.” Though you said that, you didn't seem to be interested in pulling away, and in all honesty neither was he. Yes, his mission was important; but surely taking a second more to rest with you was okay.

Executor’s gaze observed both you and the surrounding room carefully. You were looking back at him with eyes full of adoration and the most effusive grin, the sun through the window almost caused the rosy flush on your face to glow and was surely glinting off his halo and wings, the sunset-painted room was full of warmth that embraced him like a freshly washed blanket - his heart grew a little more with every detail he took note of.

The Sankta returned back to reality when your head fell on his shoulder and you whispered out a small, sincere confession - “I love you Executor.” His heart leapt and his breath hitched at the three words despite you having said them to him multiple times by then, and as always, he let one of his rare smiles grace his lips and replied right away, not missing a beat: “And I love you - more than I am able to describe.”

Honestly, though he tried as best he could, Executor wasn't sure if those words adequately expressed how thankful he was for you, how much he adored the way the feel of your shared kiss was still on his lips, how badly he wished to hold you and never pull away - but he supposed, if anything, it was enough.

[royallyjoon]

nephilim (trois)

you know where the cred goes 💙

cult au, supernatural au

yandere! ot7 x f! reader

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior

life away from the kims resumed as normal and you warily readjusted to the boys’ presence in your life. although you gained their company, you also gained a new enemy. you should take extra care not to forget your place, as internal and external forces are constantly at work. the question is: do they work in or against your favor? the hours wind on, and strange occurrences only get stranger. after all, ichabod is most awake in the dark.

-----------------------------------------—————

In your dream, you saw Jimin, but he was not the same person that you had met earlier that day. 

He stood atop Ichabod Chapel, combing through his black hair with his hand and looking down at you with brown eyes. But rather than the warm, twinkling eyes you recognized, his glistened in the moonlight, cold and hardened like topaz. 

Despite the distance, you somehow managed to see him clearly. You could see his smile, warm and affectionate, completely unlike the gaze in his eyes. He looked as though he couldn’t care less about what was happening around him--his sole focus was on you.

He was dressed in pitch black clothes from head to toe, which were soaked in some foreign substance.

 The clothes clung to him in a way that should have been uncomfortable, but he looked as though he couldn’t be bothered to change. In fact, he looked as though he relished in the substance.

Strangest of all were the magnificent black wings that rested on his back, curving their way through the shadows to reach up toward the night sky.

You eyes shot open as you woke with a start. It was still early, early enough that you could have gotten an extra hour or so of sleep, but you decided to just stay awake. Your dream had been much too unsettling...

You played around on your phone, internally debating your response to Jimin before typing something and sending it.

That’s so kind of you. I’m glad we met as well :)

You heard your mother’s knock on the door some time later. With a sigh, you lifted yourself from the warmth and safety of your sheets, getting prepared to brave the day.

--------------------------------------———————

The moment you entered the upperclassmen building, you were yanked to the side and pulled into an empty classroom. You looked up in alarm but relaxed when you saw who it was.

Mana gripped you with something akin to fear, glancing around suspiciously to make sure the coast was clear. Once they were satisfied, they closed the door and hugged you tightly. “(Y/N), you whore! You have no idea how worried I was. How dare you not text me last night? How long did you spend over there? What happened?”

You smiled at your best friend’s antics, their overprotectiveness chipping away at your lingering unease from this morning. 

You recounted your experience at the Kim household, telling them about the beautiful, secluded home in the woods, the brothers’ actions, their graceful talent of a mother, and the demanding presence of their father.

“Honestly, I was a little scared.” you recounted, sliding your bag off your shoulder. “There were so many things to be wary of, but I just spent the whole evening being as polite as possible.” 

They nodded along, engrossed in your story.

“Mayor Kim is seriously intimidating, and Mrs. Kim read my fortune—said something about power and being careful of the people around me--and the library, Mana, you would have loved it-”

“Hold on, girl! Back up.” Mana interrupted. “The mayor’s wife said what?”

“Oh,” you slowed down. “Mrs. Kim touched my palm and said I held a lot of wisdom and power, I guess within me, and that I should be wary of those around me because they may try to take it.”

They gave you a pointed look. “I knew it. The second I saw Jimin look at the empty seat next to you from the front of the classroom, I got a bad feeling. To think the warning would come from his own mother...”

“What does that mean?” You asked, furrowing your brows.

“I think you should just continue to be wary of the Kims...” Mana murmured, crossing their arms. “I know we always play it safe, but the closer to them you get, the more peril you’ll be in.”

You sat down in an empty chair. The possibilities for being hurt in this town were certainly far from rare, after all. But for them to claim the brothers would try to hurt you, even though you did nothing to provoke them...?

“Mana, do you think they might try to do something to me?”

They shrugged. “I’ve said what I felt I needed to say.”

“But steal my ‘power’?” You held up two fingers and scrunched them for air quotations. “What could the most influential people in town possibly want with me or my supposed power? What would they even do with it?”

What power do I have?

Mana looked at you concernedly while you pondered your own question.

Power? To you, it was overrated. Power was nothing but an elite show of force, all over the world but especially in this town. It was used and lorded over others, and ripped families apart. You did not consider yourself very powerful. 

You remembered your obedience toward Mr. Kim in spite of your fear and suspicion, and the way you had to rub your mother’s back as she heaved up everything she ate on the side of the road after leaving their house.

Yeah...power was currently far from your grasp.

You shrugged. You were going to follow Mrs. Kim’s warning either way; after all, nothing good came of being too expressive or open in this town.

Mana turned away from you as you both heard the bell ring for the fifteen minute warning. You picked up your bag as they led the way out the door and up the stairs toward your classroom.

When you stepped into the door, you glimpsed Jimin sitting at his desk with a disturbed frown on his face. The moment he met eyes with you, however, he was all smiles.

“(Y/N)!”

You walked down the other side of the aisle and sat in your seat, turning toward him with a smile. “Morning, Jimin.”

“Good morning! Thanks for replying to my text! How was your rest? I hope you got much more sleep than yesterday night.” His eyes wouldn’t move away from yours, all big and awestruck like a puppy’s.

You nodded. “Of course! Thanks for worrying, though. You didn’t have to.”

“Of course I did. I’ll always be concerned for your safety and well-being, (Y/N). If you feel like you ever need somewhere to go or someone to confide in, feel free to reach out to me, okay?” 

His tone turned strangely serious in comparison to how he greeted you moments before, you thought. Still, you gave him a small smile. 

“Sure, Jimin. I really appreciate your concern and the offer...”

He beamed and nodded, turning to give his greetings to Mana, who seemed surprise that they were being spoken to at all. As they conversed, you reached into your bag and pulled out your materials for the morning lesson.

“Did you end up choosing a mythological creature for your project yet?” Jimin asked.

Their mouth twitched upward. “My partner and I decided to research nymphs...I don’t know too much about them, he pretty much chose our project topic.”

They reached over and ruffled your hair. “You lucked out with (Y/N) here, she really knows her stuff.”

You scoffed and swatted their hand away from your head. “You mean I lucked out by not being partnered with your lazy self? You’re absolutely right.”

Jimin watched the two of you bicker back and forth, fighting the urge to smile.

The teacher entered the room, placing her materials on her desk. You and your peers silenced as you prepared yourself for the long day of classes.

Right here, surrounded by your community, your classmates, and your best friend...yes, this was the time where you felt the most normal. 

Deep down, you knew you wanted to leave Ichabod--without a doubt. But you feared the outside world all the same. 

The people outside wouldn’t be able to understand the things you had went through. They would giggle away your paranoia and reassure you of your safety, having no perception of the actual dangers you faced. 

They didn’t know the things that could set you off, the things that the people around you could understand with the simple exchange of a glance.

But you quieted the thoughts of your precarious future as the teacher began her lesson, falling into the routine once more.

----------------------------------------——————

Before the Kims even stepped foot into town, it was the Augustuses who ruled Ichabod with an iron fist. Their family came from old money. They had lived here for generations upon generations, their stature being crucial to the survival of the town. They oversaw the law enforcement of Ichabod. 

Nearly thirty years ago, when the town was still overrun with violence, miscreants, and chaos, the Augustuses did nothing to keep the peace. They sat from their high horse with other prominent families and watched the middle and lower classes struggle.

The then-head of the family, Rufus Augustus, was especially known for ignoring his duties.

Then Kim Moonsik stepped into town and established his position as mayor and, more importantly, as a servant of the divine Wylynne.

Once he saw how poorly Rufus acted, he fought to remove him from his position.

The man was too proud, too unwilling to give his position and title up to this “holy”, foreign newcomer. 

Mayor Kim had wanted to execute Rufus. It was his son, Aloysius, who had gotten down on both knees and begged for his safety. 

Two months later, both Rufus and his wife were sent to Wylynne as divine warriors, leaving the new head and his family to take his place.

The Augustus family were now the Kims’ right hand men: their enforcers and watchful guards within the walls of their kingdom.

The current head, Aloysius, was the chief of police, his wife, Domitia, a commander of her own squad.

Their daughter was Kim Namjoon’s aide, the vice president of the student body.

While the majority of the citizens of Ichabod feared the Kims, there were those select few who would cross the line between fear and respect. These subjects knew well enough to keep their distance away from that dangerous family, but revered them with an eery obsession.

Aemilia Augustus was one of those select few.

She was raised in luxury and privilege. The luxury of complete ease in her environment and the privilege of knowing that, no matter what she did, no normal citizen in this town was powerful enough to go against her or her parents. 

She grew up adhering to the law. The laws of Ichabod specifically, as they would apply to no other.

Aemilia thought of herself as town royalty. She essentially was, considering her family was only a step down the hierarchy from the Kims. 

Her parents were, in short, bootlickers. They trembled underneath their cloaks every monthly meeting, clutching the sophomore’s arms with grips strong enough to rival coconut crabs as they waited to see which poor, unfortunate soul Mayor Kim would call out next.

But when he called them in the middle of the night, ordering them to dispatch officers to “discipline” yet another citizen, they readily responded as if they were family friends carrying out an old grudge on behalf of the other.

Yet another reason why Aemilia found her parents’ subservience so utterly pathetic. They were subjugated to become nothing more than mindless, fearful followers.

She found her grandfather’s actions absolutely foolish. The opportunity for power and reform was well within his grasp, but his narrow mindedness prevented him from making the proper preparations. 

She did not want her parents’ life for herself, nor did she see it anywhere in her future. 

Aemilia wanted to rule rather than be ruled. She had no intention of leaving Ichabod--rather, she saw herself marrying one of Mayor Kim’s sons, the best son, and ruling beside him as his queen.

All of the students at Ichabod Academy knew her name and prestige. She felt that she had the entire school underneath her beck and call. 

She never had to explicitly say what she wanted, because everyone else was already prepared to grant her wish. After all, who was brave, or stupid, enough to go against her? 

Imagine her surprise when she walked into the cafeteria the next day and spotted you, seated with Kim Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and Kim Jungkook, smiling up a storm.

A little nobody doing something no one, not even she, had ever gotten to--she’d never heard your name before, she thought to herself, whispering to one of her friend’s to tell her who you were.

You were driving a nail into her carefully crafted plans.

And if you thought you would get away with it, you clearly had another thing coming.

-------------------------------------———————

Your cheeks were starting to hurt.

All you had wanted to do was go get lunch with Mana and Jimin. You skipped breakfast this morning, as usual, and your stomach was growling throughout the majority of morning classes.

When you had jumped up to run off to the cafeteria, you slammed into Taehyung, who had been waiting for you by the door. He in turn backed up into Jungkook, who was standing silently behind him. 

The long, black haired boy caught his older brother with one hand and prevented you both from falling. 

Apologies spilled out of your mouth and Taehyung grinned his boxy grin, apologizing for scaring you. He pounced on Jimin soon after, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

“Jimin told me about you guys going to the cafeteria for lunch! I really miss the three of us eating together, and getting to know you yesterday was so much fun, (Y/N)! Would you mind if we joined you...?”

He turned those puppy eyes on you and you found yourself with no reason to refuse. You nodded yes, despite feeling Mana’s laser vision tearing into the back of your skull.

Thus, here you are.

If entering the cafeteria with one Kim yesterday caused some whispers, you knew today would cause full on conversations.

You smiled awkwardly at the brothers with your lunch tray in front of you, suddenly having lost your appetite. Then you clapped your hands together.

“Ah! How rude of me--Taehyung, Jungkook, please meet Mana. They’ve been my best friend since childhood. Mana, this is Jungkook and Taehyung.”

Mana waved in a good natured manner at the boys. You tensed as you watched the interaction. 

Taehyung eyed them suspiciously, and you surmised that he was giving them the same “test” that you received yesterday afternoon. Thankfully, his lips split into that broad grin once more as he leapt across the table to pull them into a hug. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you!” He cheered.

They grunted, sending you a look of bewilderment over his shoulder. “Yeah, you too...?”

Jungkook mumbled out his greetings soon after.

After Jimin finished scolding Taehyung and he calmed down, the conversation took off. It was hard not to feel relaxed around Jimin and Taehyung together, for their exuberant natures made for fun conversations. You even felt Mana lowering their guard a bit, cracking some jokes that had the four of you disappearing underneath the tables in giggles.

Once again, you were almost able to forget what life was like in this town. You slipped into a comfortable sense of normalcy, picturing yourself as five school friends who had recently met.

Nevertheless, you never should have let your guard down. You never should have forgotten your place.

And by the time you did remember, it was far too late.

A cold substance spilling over you shocked you into reality, your vision obscured by a bubbly, brown trail dripping down your back, over your hair, and landing in your lap, staining your skirt.

The cafeteria, once boisterous, went completely silent. 

You heard a stifled snicker from behind you just as someone else began to speak.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Are you alright?”

You turned around and spotted none other than Aemilia Augustus, standing there with her spotless uniform and lunch tray held firmly in her hands.

 Behind her were her two best friends, Brooklyn and Constance...one of whom did not have a lunch tray.

It appeared to be on the floor directly behind you, half of its contents spilled over your back and the other half over your head.

“My dear friend wasn’t watching where she was going and ended up tripping.” Aemilia continued, turning around to face one of them. “Constance, why aren’t you apologizing?”

The blonde had one hand over her mouth and another behind her back. She removed her hand from her mouth, which you presumed was meant to hide her smile, and stepped forward. 

She bowed a little. “I’m so sorry. I can get someone to pay for your laundry bill, or I could buy you lunch next time?”

You felt Mana's eyes on you, but surprisingly, the first person you looked at was not Mana or Constance, nor was it Aemilia. 

You met eyes with Jungkook across the table. His dark eyes glinted dangerously, glued onto Constance and her every action. Taehyung and Jimin shared his look, glaring at the blonde. Taehyung’s hand clenched into a fist on the table, crushing the soda can he held in his hand.

The brothers met your gaze, waiting to see what you would do next.

You blinked the brown liquid out of your eyes and turned to her with a politically polite smile. “It’s fine, everyone makes mistakes. I’m pretty clumsy myself. There’s no need to pay for anything, I can just wash my uniform when I get back home. All is forgiven.” 

How extremely like you, the brothers thought. How extremely like you to not draw attention to yourself at the behest of these hags.

The whispers picked back up in the cafeteria and Aemilia sent you a smile right back. She walked over to the table, stepping into the space between you and Jimin. 

She gently set her tray onto the table, picked up the napkins on your tray, and proceeded to wipe some of it off your face.

“I’m glad you forgave Constance for her mistake, but still, sitting in a dirty uniform all day probably won’t be comfortable.” She spoke placatingly. 

You were momentarily frozen, mystified by her treating you like a child. At least you could see clearly again.

She put the napkin down. “Why don’t you come with me to the student council office for now? We can get you a new uniform there.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go that far-”

“She’s right, you don’t want to have to sit in sticky food for the rest of the day. I’ll come with you,” Mana interrupted with a tone that left no room for permission. 

Mana stood, pulling you up with them. They picked up both your bags, kicked the tray back in the blonde’s direction, and followed Aemilia’s lead out the cafeteria and away from the callous whispers.

As you walked out, Constance smirked, squeezing the Pepsi can hidden behind her back. 

After the three of you left, Jimin slowly lifted his gaze, casting it onto Aemilia’s friends.

They scrambled to clean up the mess, bowing multiple times. 

Before Brooklyn and Constance could scurry away, however, Taehyung lifted a hand, pointing his finger at the blonde. He bent it in a “come here” gesture. She inched over, trying and failing to hide her giddy expression. 

She clutched the tray of trash in her hands, her heart pounding in her ears as the younger sophomore leaned toward her. 

He whispered something in her ear, a malicious smile creeping its way onto his face. 

Constance paled and she stilled. The tray she was holding went crashing to the floor. 

Jimin smirked as he looked at the filth, living and non-living, and picked his bag up, swinging it over his shoulder. Jungkook scoffed and glared at them, prompting them to finally leave. 

Brooklyn picked up Aemilia’s tray and pulled at Constance. The blonde managed to unfreeze herself and walked away trembling. What she was trembling from--fear or admiration--no one could tell. 

The brothers looked at each other and nodded. They stood in unison and left the cafeteria.

-----------------------------------------—————

You had thought yesterday was going to be the most eventful day of your life, but clearly, Wylynne had more in store for you than you could ever imagine.

Not only was your uniform left a mess, but your stomach was growling louder than ever, considering you had been too shocked to eat your meal.

You traipsed down the hallway, cringing as you felt the stickiness of the soda travel from your thighs to your socks.

Now that you were no longer in the heat of the moment, you re-examined your response. You seriously doubted just how clean you’d be able to get in the bathroom. You were honestly thankful for Aemilia’s offer and for Mana insisting you take it.

Of course, you could have gone the rest of the day in your soda soaked mess of a uniform out of sheer pride, but now you wouldn’t have to.

Mana kept you right beside them as Aemilia walked ahead, her strawberry blonde pony tail swinging gently with each step she took.

Aemilia Augustus reeked of luxury and privilege. She did so in a way that few could ever come after her for it, you observed.

She exuded grace like Mrs. Kim did, but hers was different. She looked as though she felt she earned everything she got. 

Rather than Mrs. Kim’s gentle elegance, Aemilia was righteous and indifferent. She knew her place, and reveled in it.

“That witch has something to do with this,” Mana harshly and quickly whispered in your ear. “Now you’ve done it. You’ve incurred the wrath of Strawberry Shortcake and her she-devils.”

“It’s fine,” you whispered back. “We know she didn’t do it, and she’s offering to give me a new uniform before class starts. It’s fine.”

You cut Mana off with a look, internally suppressing a rising negative attitude. There were too many eyes on you, too many ears around you.

Aemilia led the two of you to the third floor, walking until she reached a room at the end of the hall. 

She pulled out a key and put it in the door, unlocking it. “Usually, we aren’t supposed to be in here during school hours to ensure that we’re working diligently in classes, but as the student body vice president, I have a key.” She winked and swung open the door.

“Now about that-oh!”

Aemilia stopped short and you walked behind her, peering over her shoulder. 

Several windows lined the room, lighting it up with the midday sun. It was moderately sized, like that of a classroom. A wooden table set up in the middle with black, rolling chairs pushed up against the edge of the table. 

Kim Namjoon sat at the head of the table, several papers spread out around him and glasses perched on his nose. He looked up, peeved at the intrusion.

“Aemilia...to what do I owe the pleasure?”

The strawberry blonde smiled. “Good afternoon, Mr. President. I have a student here who went through a bit of an accident at lunch. We’re just coming to get her a change of clothes.”

Namjoon made no reaction when he spotted you behind Aemilia. He nodded at her, gave his greetings to you and Mana with a small smile, and turned back to the paperwork.

Aemilia waved, implying the two of you could follow her in. The floor was made of a royal blue, lush carpet, and you winced as you dirtied it with your wet shoes. “What are your sizes, (Y/N)?” She questioned.

“I’m a (size) for the shirt and (size) for the skirt.” You quietly stated.

She nodded and walked to the back of the room and disappeared around a corner into what you presumed was an atrium of sorts. You heard a door open and the shuffling of clothes.

Mana entered, sitting on one of the seats lined up against the wall. You stood by one of the walls and peered out of the nearest window.

In the distance, you could see the dark leaves of the forest trees peeking over the tops of buildings and homes. Different students were making their way across the quad, heading back to afternoon classes. You sighed and placed a hand over your stomach.

“Here you are!” Aemilia returned with a uniform shirt and skirt in your size as well as a brand new pack of socks on a hanger. “Usually, the emergency uniforms cost students some additional funds, but you won’t have to worry about paying for it. This one’s on the house.”

You took the hanger gingerly. “Please, you’ve already done so much. The least I can do is pay. I’ll be making it out to the student council?”

Aemilia shook her head. “You really don’t have to, it was Constance’s fault. I’ll do you this favor for her.”

You smiled. “I insist. Please tell me how much is it.”

Aemilia leered at you, her eyes searching for whatever you possessed that made you think you even had the right to challenge her.

This bitch.

“If you insist! It’ll be $30. You can make it out via cash or check to the student council. It’s due by the end of the week.” 

You nodded and gave both students a bow. “I’m so sorry to have disturbed your day. I’ll be going off to class now.”

Aemilia returned your courtesy and Namjoon gave you a small wave.

You locked arms with Mana, left the student council room and headed to the bathroom. 

-----------------------------------------—————

“I’m telling you! There’s something so messed up about that girl!” Mana complained loudly as you stood in the bathroom. You unbuttoned your shirt and proceeded to clean soda residue off your chest, arms, and legs.

Ichabod Academy consisted of three types of bathrooms: men’s restrooms, women’s restrooms, and a gender neutral restroom. There was only one and it was jammed into the basement, and it was your and Mana’s safe space because hardly anyone else ever came down here.

“Even if there is, what am I going to do, call her out on it?” You muttered as you took off your socks, wiping as much of the stickiness as possible off with a warm, wet napkin.

You dried your arms and threw the rest of the napkins away, then went into a stall and took your clothes off completely, changing into the new uniform. “I don’t have the mental energy required to play her mind games today. How much time do I have left?”

“Fifteen minutes.” They said, unlocking and locking their phone. “No, but you seriously haven’t heard of her? Of what she does to people who get too close to the Kims?”

“There’s been someone else getting close to the Kims?” You questioned dryly, pulling the socks on.

“Got, as in past tense, love. Anyone who associates with the Kims excessively, according to her, in any form or fashion has died by her hand.” Mana said. “She practically worships the ground they walk on.”

“She wouldn’t be the only one,” you replied nonchalantly.

“You remember Grace Ster?”

“The girl from our freshman class who left to be homeschooled?” You frowned, buttoning up your shirt.

“Yes! The only reason why she was sent home is because Aemilia blew a fit and ended up tormenting the poor thing until she didn’t want to show up anymore!” Mana said. 

“All Grace did was hold hands with Kim Taehyung. In drama class. For a skit!” You could see them throwing their arms up in disbelief through the crack of the stall door. “That’s why I had you go along with her. If you kept being so stubborn, she might have publicly humiliated you even more in the cafeteria. I wanted to make sure she didn’t get the chance.” 

“Oh...thanks, Mana.” You smiled slightly. 

You walked out the stall and folded your dirty uniform, placing it inside your book bag. You didn’t really have a response, not necessarily shocked by Aemilia’s nature. Something had told you she was different than the persona she made an effort to display.

You washed your hands and slung your bag over your shoulder. “We should just get back before we’re late.”

Mana patted you on the back as you dejectedly walked back to class.

-----------------------------------------—————

When you stepped into the classroom, you got a number of looks and comments, people whispering under their breath about how you dared to anger the queen bee. 

Jimin had, once more, been waiting for you. “(Y/N)! Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine.” You said. “Aemilia gave me a new uniform to change into.”

As you sat down, your stomach growled loudly. 

Jimin’s eyes snapped back up to meet yours. “You didn’t get to eat, did you? She dragged you out before you could even touch your food.”

You shrugged. “I’ll just eat after school. It’s not the first time I’ve gone without eating and I’m sure it won’t be the last.”

Jimin eyed you worriedly as Mrs. Hargrove burst into the room, full of nervous energy as usual. “Good afternoon, students!”

You and your classmates chorused greetings in return. You internally sighed at how long of a day this was turning out to be. 

Jimin continued to fret over you throughout the rest of afternoon classes. You kept reassuring him that you were fine. No, you didn’t need anything from the vending machine, yes you would tell him if you got too hungry.

You reminded yourself that he wasn’t Mana or one of your other classmates--you wouldn’t be able to tell him off, even if you kind of wanted to.

The end of the school day finally arrived and you walked out the double doors between Mana and Jimin.

Jimin pulled you toward him. His brothers stood several feet away from the rest of the student body, watching as Driver Bin pulled up to the corner.

“(Y/N).” Jimin smiled at you, but the look in his eyes was serious. “Remember, you’re much, much stronger than you think you are.” 

He reached his hand down to gently squeeze at yours, and held onto your hand for a bit more before letting it go. “Those petty people are nothing compared to you.”

He let go of your hand and walked toward his four brothers, who began climbing into the vehicle. Hoseok and Taehyung lifted their arms to wave goodbye, and you lifted yours in a half-hearted wave as they pulled away.

You stepped to the side and on one of the benches outside of the school. Mana stood next to you, leaning against a pillar.

You eyed students warily as they linked arms to walk home together in bunches or ran to the curve of the street in front of the school to hop into their parent’s cars. 

A glossy, strawberry blonde ponytail soon caught your attention as it hit the light of the afternoon sun. 

You watched Aemilia walk toward a gray car resting beside the curb, her hair perfect as usual. She waved farewell to her friends and made eye contact with you over their shoulders.

The girl glanced at you. Her eyes were teeming with disgust, but all she did was smile at you as she bent down to sit in the car.

Should I be scared? You thought to yourself as her driver closed the door. They drove away, heading toward the Augustus residence at the center of the city.

Mana popped a bubble of their chewing gum. “(Y/N), your mom’s here.”

You lifted your head and spotted your mother’s familiar car making its way down the pickup line. 

You stood up, brushing off the back of your skit and walked with Mana to the car. When Mana entered the backseat, your mother scoffed with a smile. “What’s this?”

They beamed and blinked rapidly at your mother. “Oh please, Aunty (M/N), won’t you take this poor child home?”

You giggled as your mom rolled her eyes. “Just put your seatbelt on, Manareyyn.”

Mana gasped and hushed her. “Not the full name, Aunty! Am I a complete stranger to you?”

You laughed, feeling relaxed in the presence of your loved ones.

When you got home, you had the interesting combination of leftover takeout and your mother’s cooking for a meal. 

You put both school uniforms in the wash and informed your mother of what happened at school. She prepared the funds for the council and handed the check to you. 

You went upstairs and took a shower, washed your hair, and completed some homework assignments.

Soon enough, you both turned in for the night.

-----------------------------------------—————

Later that evening at the Kim residence, Namjoon stood outside of Jimin’s room. The younger boy had summoned him and the rest of their siblings for some kind of conference, but he wasn’t keen on staying too long.

He sighed and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” Jimin’s voice sounded from the other side. Namjoon twisted the doorknob and pushed it open.

The rest of the brothers were already in the room, he noted, seated on Jimin’s king sized bed.  

He shrugged in response to their irritated gazes and climbed onto the mattress.

“Now that everyone’s here,” Taehyung stated, side-eyeing Namjoon, “we can properly begin our discussion.”

“How long is this going to take?” Hoseok interrupted. “I have several assignments that need to be completed, and dances to choreograph.”

“Yes, and I have stacks of paperwork I need to finish for student council.” Namjoon sighed.

Jimin leaned back. “You don’t necessarily have to be here-”

Hoseok leapt up, walking over to the door. 

“-unless, of course, you wish to know how to help our angel.”

The senior stopped in his tracks and looked over at Jimin, gaze darkening.

“I thought we agreed that we wouldn’t help (Y/N),” Jungkook said, playing a game on his phone. “Namjoon hyung said that she needed to come to us on her own.”

“I still stand by that statement. The more we pressure her, the more she’ll back away.” Namjoon coolly replied. “She’ll come find us, of her own volition, eventually.” 

“Then what are you talking about?” Hoseok asked.

“It appears that people at school are mistaken about who deserves the most respect from them,” Taehyung said. 

“Your subordinate stepped out of line today, Namjoon hyung.” Jimin followed.

The older boy shifted his gaze onto his younger brothers. He thought back to today’s lunch period when (Y/N) and her friend entered the student council room. The girl had shifted uncomfortably where she stood, and he thought he’d heard the faint sound of a stomach growling.

Hoseok scoffed at his silence and turned to look at him. “Don’t tell me it was the Augustus bitch. I told you to throw her away ages ago.”

“No, it was one of her underlings,” Namjoon stated, recalling the girls’ conversation. “The blonde airhead in love with Taehyung, Constance. She must have ‘accidentally’ spilled her lunch all over (Y/N), no doubt directed by Aemilia herself.”

Taehyung glowered at the reminder. When he leaned over to whisper into Constance’s ear, the idiot was smiling as if it was the best day of her life. The acrid smell of her perfume made him gag. It nearly suffocated him. 

It was nothing like (Y/N)’s. Her scent caressed him from afar and washed over him when they were close, promising warmth and consolation.

Her scent was probably ruined by the stunt that scum pulled in the cafeteria.

When he saw Constance holding the soda can, he’d wanted to reach his hand around her neck and-

“Ah, I see.” Namjoon smiled, his realization coming full force. “So, you want to prepare a lesson of sorts.”

Jimin nodded. “People need to be well aware of how to treat (Y/N) before and especially after she takes her place by our side. This can a good teaching moment.”

“Okay,” Hoseok hummed. “And how are you going to go about doing that?”

“Like Namjoon hyung said, we can’t directly interfere without it being too obvious.” Taehyung said. “But-”

“-there’s no reason as to why we can’t distribute due punishment.” Jungkook finished, his lips twitching into a smile.

Namjoon grinned, nodding. “How about the three of you tell me everything you saw in the cafeteria this afternoon...spare no details.”

-----------------------------------------—————

Chance Pierre was a quiet kid. He never bothered anybody and preferred to focus on his studies.

Students often found him tutoring a classmate in between classes or reading in the library, and they nicknamed him the freshmen class’ Kim Namjoon. Not that they could say it so loudly around the guy’s younger brother, Kim Jungkook.

Chance Pierre dreamed of becoming rich and influential enough to come back to the town, save the people inside, and burn the Kims to the ground.

He wanted to find a way out of Ichabod using his intellect. He would appeal to Mayor Kim, explain how he hoped to bring excellence to the town by pursuing his academic career and spreading the word about Wylynne and all of the moon’s grace.

Surely, the mayor would let him take his intellectual influence outside. And he would be able to escape the hellish nightmare that was this town.

Thankfully, he and Jungkook were not in the same class. Even though Chance was at the top of his specific class, if he wanted to place first in the entire freshman class, he would eventually have to confront the youngest of the Kims. A conflict he’d been readily avoiding.

Still, despite his academic prestige, he was still what high schoolers would call a “nerd”. He was bullied by his peers, the same peers that he wanted to spare. They mocked him for his financial status, for his intellect. The goddess forbid he ever share his dream of leaving Ichabod, for they would mock him for that as well.

Chance entered his home and it was quiet, as usual. His parents worked late hours and he often had no one to talk to. The spirits in the walls were his friends, he liked to joke.

He took his shoes off and just as he was about to turn to go upstairs, something was thrown over his head. 

His vision went dark and he immediately began to struggle. He kicked and fought, his breaths rapidly increasing. The inside of the material was coated in what smelled like bleach and alcohol.

Chloroform.

Chance tried to hold his breath, cursing himself for struggling earlier, but he only delayed the inevitable. The boy’s movements slowed and his assailant pulled the bag around his head tighter and tighter until he blacked out.

Hours later, the police station was visited by his mother in the early morning, the woman hysterically crying and clutching onto Chance’s discarded book bag as she reported her son’s abduction.

-----------------------------------------—————

You were awoken by your mother entering your room. You looked up at her inquisitively, trying to blink the sleep out of your eyes. 

You both had several hours of rest left, so why...?

She wordlessly approached your bed and lifted the covers, and you scooted backward to give her space. She lay down next to you, slipping her arm under your head.

You felt her press a kiss to your forehead. She started playing with your hair and humming a little, like she used to do when you were little. You drifted back to sleep in the comfort of her arms.

Yet in the morning, she was gone again, off to work an early shift at the hospital. 

It was a gray, rainy day today. 

Mana’s dad had been the one to take you to school that morning, and both he and his child chuckled as they saw you running out the door with a clothing bag and your book bag in the rain. You had entered the car squealing from the cold water droplets.

When you walked into the building, you had almost expected another horrible, suspicious “accident”.

If only that had been the case.

You and Mana entered the lobby to find your classmates gathering around the school bulletin board, where another missing poster had been put up.

A freshman. He’d been taken sometime last night, you gathered from the horde of students in front of you. 

The boy looked slightly familiar to you; he was probably someone you were accustomed to passing in the halls.

You sighed, your heart falling in your chest. That was probably why your mother was clinging to you in your sleep this morning...

You met eyes with Mana’s, whose own flashed with sadness and anger. 

There was no telling where this kid was going to show up again. If he was lucky, he would make it back to his family in one piece. If not...

The double doors opened again, bringing in an icy breeze with them, and the halls instantly silenced. You turned away from the crowd and watched as the Kim brothers walked in. 

Jungkook strolled along with his head held high and headphones in his ears, indifferent to all the stares. 

Namjoon walked through the students, smirking as they parted for him with Hoseok, calm as can be, a couple of feet behind him. 

Contrary to yesterday’s kind and bubbly energy, Taehyung had a dangerous glower on his face. Jimin was expressionless, his eyes glued forward as the brothers made their way to their respective buildings.

If they noted the amount of students surrounding the bulletin board, they certainly did not show it. There was no sign of concern, or pain anywhere in their expression.

This was why the Kims, while so close, felt so distant from the rest of the student body. 

It’s one thing to live in a town like Ichabod and experience the horrible things that happen here. It’s another thing to refuse to look deeper and question everything around you.

It’s another thing to live here and think that these types of occurrences are alright. 

You shivered. Yes, you remind yourself. This is the atmosphere. This is the place I am in.

You were not in a normal high school or a normal town. The law of your land simply could not compare with that of anywhere else.

Never far behind them, Aemilia Augustus entered, her posse at her back. She followed the Kims, a serene, pleased smile on her face. 

No doubt she had knowledge of what had happened to that freshman, but she would never tell.

She passed by you and Mana, looking you up and down.

That one glance told you more than anything you had gathered in your conversation yesterday.

This is the difference between us, it proclaimed. I am safe on the inside, while you are disposable on the outside. 

You are nothing. 

Aemilia walked past the two of you, continuing on her way to class. Brooklyn and Constance followed behind her, staring dead ahead. 

The blonde was far from her usual picture perfect attire--her uniform was wrinkled, she was dragging her feet, and her eyes were red and puffy. She made no move to look at you or Mana, seemingly caught up in her thoughts.

Soon after they left, movement in the halls returned to normal as students walked to their classes. At some point, you finally forced yourself to move. 

The chill from the rain and wind settled in your bones and you shivered on your way to class.

The teacher had not arrived yet, as usual. Your classmates didn’t even have the heart to discuss rumors or joke around. Every movement seemed to break the silence.

You walked down the aisle and sat next to Jimin, waving at him in greeting. He gave you a small smile in return. You silently took your books out your bag, not wanting to bother him anymore after this morning’s display.

The cold couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Your shivers persisted and within a few moments, you were shaking so badly you couldn’t hold your pencil straight.

Mana sent you a concerned look but you waved them off, circling your finger to tell them to turn back around.

You put your writing utensil down and tried to hold your own hand still when you felt Jimin shift next to you.

He caught sight of your trembling fingers and he removed his school cardigan, handing it to you. 

You tried to refuse his offer, pushing the fabric back into his hold, but he spread it out, draped it over your shoulder, and lifted your hand to slip one of your arms through.

What is it with people thinking I don’t know how to take care of myself? You thought as you gently pulled your arms from his hand, slipping them into the cardigan and pulled it closed. 

He watched with a satisfied smile as it draped down your sides and shifted in his seat to resume his staring ahead.

You thought back to the other night. 

His gaze was just as caring, just as frigid as the one from your dream. 

You shivered again, hiding it by shifting in your seat. The class sat in silence until your first period teacher walked in. Without another word, she quickly began her lesson.

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

During lunch, Mana had to go to a meeting with one of the teachers, and Jimin and his brothers were nowhere to be found (not that you were dying to sit with them), so you took the opportunity to clear your debt with the student council.

You walked up to the third floor and went to the end of the hallway, fiddling with the paper and clothing bag in your hands. As you approached the door, you tentatively turned the knob and found that it was still locked.

You were contemplating sliding the envelope under the door when a voice sounded out from behind you. 

“What have we here?”

You turned and found Kim Namjoon leaning against the wall behind you. He didn’t have his glasses on today, but wore a playful and righteous look on his face. 

“(Y/N) ah, it’s wonderful to see you. I see Jiminie is still making sure to take good care of you.” He smiled in a good natured manner and you flushed, remembering the sweater your classmate practically dressed you in himself.

“Yeah...it’s been really chilly,” you muttered. You bowed slightly in greeting. “Good morning.”

“How have you been?”

“I’m alright. I didn’t want to bother, I just have the uniform I borrowed yesterday and the money I owe the council.”

Namjoon put his leg down, gently kicking off the wall and approached you. He flicked his hand toward the door. “Oh, is that so? Why didn’t you come in?”

“The door was locked-” You watched in surprise as Namjoon opened the door easily, without having pulled out a key. “...or not, I suppose.”

I must not have twisted the door hard enough because of all the stuff in my hands...

“Come on in.”

You entered the room cautiously. Namjoon took his place at the head of the table, placing his bag at his feet. “The uniforms go in the closet in the atrium, around that corner.”

You nodded and walked the same way Aemilia went yesterday. 

There didn’t appear to be much in the atrium--there were two restrooms, a vending machine, a place to hang coats and bags, and the supply closet. 

“Speaking of clothes, I apologize for not being able to assist you yesterday. I was terribly behind in some student council matters and worked all night to finish it all.” The student council president stated from behind the other section of the wall.

You hung the wardrobe up and walked back out, sliding the check in front of Namjoon on the table. “It’s completely fine, it wasn’t anything important.”

“I don’t think so,” He gestured for you to take a seat in the chair to his right. “Would you mind telling me what happened in the cafeteria?”

You hesitated, prepared to brush it all under the rug, but boy’s gaze sharpened and you found yourself taking a seat.

“It was an accident,” you began. “Someone tripped and spilled their food on me at lunch.”

Namjoon hummed. “Who was it?”

“A friend of Aemilia’s. I was sitting with Mana, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook at lunch and we were talking, and then I felt something cold run down my face and back.” You looked down at your lap, folding and unfolding your fingers.

Namjoon rested his chin in his fist as he looked at you. “I take it that it was Constance, as Aemilia said yesterday, correct?” 

You nodded.

“So, Constance managed to trip and splatter her food all over you, and only you, as you sat at your lunch table, which is fairly out of the way of the center of the cafeteria. A table that had plenty of room for people to walk around.”

“How did you know where I was sitting?” You asked.

“Jimin informed me of the basic details, but I wanted to hear the story from your perspective.” He reasoned with a smile. “This...accident...also occurred well into the meal, when everyone else was already seated.”

You frowned. “It doesn’t sound like you think it was an accident.”

“It sounds as though she were targeting you, (Y/N).” Namjoon said, removing some papers and textbooks from his bag. “I’m simply speculating off of what I know. I’d advise you to be careful of Aemilia and her ‘acquaintances’.” He said, smiling a bit worriedly. 

You looked away, thoughts racing rapidly in your head.

You were already wary of the girl because of her status and the things you’d heard from Mana, but you found something incredibly unsettling about being warned about her from Kim Namjoon himself. 

He’s one to talk.

Namjoon asked you to spend the rest of the lunch hour with him, as he felt he needed some company to complete the rest of his documents. 

He offered to purchase snacks for the two of you, and after that you could hardly refuse. You pulled out some assignments of your own and worked in tandem.

Hazel eyes peered through a crack in the doorway of the student council room. They saw you and the student council president, sitting together as though you were the best of friends, discussing certain books or classes with an intermittent joke placed every now and then into the conversation.

Hazel eyes saw nothing but a repulsive wench taking what was supposed to be her place. Speaking to her future husband, her future king. The longer she gazed upon the heinous sight, the angrier it made her. 

She made a move to swing open the door and announce her presence, but dark brown eyes met hers through the crack and Aemilia stilled. 

She was not surprised that he had managed to sense and spot her, as she had been able to tell long ago that the president was a master of perception. Yet the usual polite warmth that she so loved was gone. It was replaced by unyielding anger. 

His eyes were alight with purple fire.

He was angry because she almost interrupted him being with you.

Aemilia let go of the handle to the student council room, letting the door click closed. She shoved past the shoulders of her minions friends, raging down the hallway until she reached an empty classroom. 

Once inside, she locked herself in there and began throwing around the desks, chairs, anything within her arms’ reach.

After she quelled her rage, she pressed her nails into her palm and decided:  no, she would not be going out like this. She would not allow that pretentious shrew to chip away and what she so carefully built, what she strove for.

(Y/N) (L/N) would soon experience hell on earth. Aemilia Augustus would make that happen. She swore it on her family name.

(Y/N) (L/N) would never return to the school in one piece, of body or of mind, as long as she could help it.

-----------------------------------------—————

~taglist~

@melaninkpops​ @loserwithapen​ @hellaspookystudent​ @ecillartto​ @omgsuperstarg​ @ace-angel-judas​ @jjamsbangtan​ @lovinggalaxies​ @lovesick-heart0​ @ksxmpoison​ @girlmeetsliv3​ @thedarkwinterrose​ @purpuravm​ @oneweirdbean​ @hopelessfountainjoonie​ @mazmaz30​ @enigmaticlove-03​ @uppiespuppy​ @queenceline22​ @kokofikats​ @taeyohonic​ @creatorspalace​

[writingmessynaruto]

For the Madara request, could I get some romantic fluff for him?

I'm ace and it's really hard to find things for him that don't get very sexual and I'd love something that does not go beyond pecks you know?

Maybe brushing his hair scene? It's very self indulgence here bc unlike most ppl I headcanon his hair to be very damaged and messy, you don't throw all those fire jutsu with no heat damage you know? Little teasing about that would be nice 💖

No physical preferences, with this you don't need to specifiy gender either, you can keep it as vague as possible so it's more relatable for others too

Thanks so much for the ask! I loved writing something this sweet and affectionate. I hope you enjoy!

{ Curls and Camellia }

Madara x Reader

cw: fluff, hair-combing, romantic affection, pet names, mild cuddling

It was clear Madara didn’t care too much about his appearance around you.

Certainly, he cared enough to impress you, or at least to look presentable. He wouldn’t describe himself as high-maintenance. But you knew better.

Considering he was the clanhead, it sort of baffled you that he didn’t take better care of his hair. His long hair was a symbol of tradition and honor in the clan, and as the clanhead, it was odd that he didn’t seem too interested in upholding that, despite his conviction to his people. After a while, you came to suppose that Madara just had his own way of doing things.

Still, that way had some clumsy side-effects. Fire style jutsus were unforgiving toward everything they touched, and that also sometimes included hair. Madara had no shortage of hair, and because he never took the time to tie it up during combat (something about not “interrupting the flow of chakra”), it could quite easily get fried. On top of that, his hair was wavy, nearly curly, and that made the damage far worse.

You had brought this up before. Even as recently as last week. Though he appreciated your concerns, he didn’t make time to take care of it. So, you had taken the liberty of buying some hair oils.

And, that night, you sprang it upon him.

“I found some rejuvenating oils today.”

He nodded in acknowledgement, not looking up from the scrolls he was studying. You continued.

“If you want, I can work them through your hair while you read.”

He slowly tore his gaze away from the scroll, clearly trying to process two things at once. “My hair?”

You gave him a look. “You’re singed, love.”

“Singed?” He blinked innocently and looked over his shoulder at the ends of his hair. You laughed.

“Yes.”

“Really.” He pulled a handful of hair over his shoulder to inspect closer. You were already approaching with your supplies. As you knelt behind him, he glanced over what all you brought.

“Scissors?” he inquired.

“Some of it can’t be saved.”

Still, he was in disbelief as to how much was damaged. “How much?”

“I’ll see.”

“Not everything, right?”

“No, not everything.”

He nodded as you sorted through the most damaged sections. You snipped off a few chunks and softened the ends. It really was quite a shame he didn’t take better care of this mane. It was the envy of all his clanspeople.

“How bad is it?” He sounded nonchalant. Madara always sounded rather unconcerned about things. It was something he even intended to do. Most of the time, it was convincing. But right now, you could tell he was worrying, even if only a little.

“It’s like the aftermath of a battle.”

You were only teasing. Although he perhaps tried to hide it, you could feel him tense up. You rubbed his back in reassurance, his soft locks bunching effortlessly between your fingers.

“It’s fine,” you whispered, chuckling gently. “It won’t look any different, I promise.” If he didn’t notice the burnt hair, he probably wouldn’t notice the absence of it either.

He sighed with a smile, glancing back at you with that look. He was softer than most people realized. He enjoyed things like this, even though he didn’t take the time to do them himself. And he always had a way of making you feel appreciated. He was so easy to be near. Honestly, it was easy both of you.

You put aside the scissors, exchanging them for the comb. This wasn’t the first time you helped him with his hair, and it wouldn’t be the last. You didn’t mind that one bit. It was clear this felt just as good for him as it did for you.

Once the comb pulled through easily, it was on to the oil. You rubbed some between your hands, inhaling the fragrant smell of camellia.

“Don’t put too much in there,” Madara murmured calmly. “I don’t want to make my hair more flammable than it apparently already is.” Even from this angle, you could see the smile in his cheeks. It was contagious; as you went back to work, a smile adorned your face, too. You almost wanted to hug him. And as you smoothed the oil through his locks, a beautiful sheen began to accent his waves.

“I’ll braid it,” you assured him. “Just to keep the moisture in.” And that would protect the hair from further damage, too, you knew. It was worth another shot to ask him. “If you want, you can keep it in the braid, too. It will help prevent damage.”

“You’ll have to teach me how to do it.” Much more accepting.

“I can braid it before you leave next.” Easy. Your hands started to gather his hair into three thick sections.

“Thank you.” His voice had become even more tender now. Soon, he would likely be getting cuddly, too. He tended to get that way when his voice turned that gentle. For a war-hardened clanhead, he truly was the most gentle person you knew.

Down his back, you continued the braid until the curly ends. Once it was secured, Madara gently pulled the plait it forward to inspect it. It was like draping a thick snake over his shoulder, shiny and black and beautiful. His smile was small, almost bashful. He got like this too whenever you helped him with his hair. He could never quite look you in the eye by the time you finished. It made him go red in the face, and quite speechless.

You didn’t tease him for it. You liked his gentleness. And without a word or a nod, you scooted up next to him and stretched out on the floor. With your head rested on his lap, you could see all his scrolls laid out. Some of them you could faintly read, and others not.

He murmured overhead. “Thank you, my dove.”

When Madara got flustered, he really got flustered. His voice would hardly come out. It only made you smile.

Briefly, you glanced up at him. His hand came down to rest on your shoulder in a gentle caress, but his eyes were still fixated upon his braid. He was perhaps in wonder over how shiny it looked.

You contained a chuckle and relaxed your head again. Closing your eyes, you finally allowed yourself to deeply inhale, filling your nose with the sweet scent of camellia. You wouldn’t mind doing this more often, burnt hair aside. And you had a feeling Madara would make time for this now, even if he didn’t care much about the look of his hair -- perhaps, because, more importantly, it involved you.

Want more personalized (and queer) Madara x Reader?

Read my post and send me an ask!

[sofwrites]

You're Glowing, My Darling

Polin Week Day 4: favorite headcanon and domestic fluff

+ touching prompt: pushing a strand of hair behind their ear for @sofisanchez

Headcanon: Penelope can spot any pregnancy with nearly perfect accuracy

Themes: fluff, married! Polin | Length: 1.5k

ao3 link | masterlist | or read under the cut

Penelope Featherington Bridgerton had a wide array of talents. She was a graceful dancer, knew how to carry a tune, and was fairly adept in arithmetics.

But likely her most impressive talent? Penelope had a remarkable ability of being able to fish out pregnancies, particularly those of her very extended family. And once upon a time, when she called herself Lady Whistledown, she’d practically made spotting pregnancies an art form.

And so it came to be on a December afternoon when, with a small tug on her husband’s hand, Penelope pulled Colin into their bed-chamber at Aubrey Hall. Wearing a proud little smirk, she leaned towards him. “I know a secret.”

Colin bit back an amused smile, running his hands down the lengths of her arms. “And that is...?”

“Lucy’s pregnant again.”

Colin blinked at her, his hands stopping at her elbows. “Excuse me?”

“Lucy, our sister-in-law, is pregnant.”

He paused for a moment before his hands slid down to meet hers, interlacing their fingers. He gave her a look that was part-dubious, part-indulgent. “And what makes you so sure?”

Penelope fought the urge to huff in exasperation, swinging their hands. “Trust me, I know. I was right about Kate with Mary, and Eloise with Frederick, and even Francesca with Janet, and not to mention all the times when I was Lady Whist-”

“Yes, yes, you’re always right,” Colin interrupted, squeezing her fingers. “What makes you so sure though?”

She looked at him carefully for a moment, eyes narrowing as if deciding whether or not she wanted to let him in on a secret. After what felt like an irritatingly long time, Penelope answered in a matter-of-fact tone, “She had kippers with toast and marmalade at breakfast this morning.”

Colin didn’t say anything for about ten seconds, merely stared at her. And then, in a tone that was bland and very clearly effortful, he asked, “Pardon me?”

Penelope gave him a dry look, lips pursed just enough for him to find absolutely adorable. “Trust me. What person in their right mind eats kippers with toast and jam?” And just before Colin opened his mouth, she gave him a pointed look and added, “I said person in their right mind.”

The corner of his lip twitched as he nodded for her to continue.

“I noticed that the last two times Lucy was pregnant, she mixed her breakfast foods in the same way. And she’s more talkative than usual- that’s one of her tells as well.” Penelope had taken back her hands to tap her fingers as she listed off her examples, speaking at an alarmingly fast pace. “There’s also just the probability that in a family as big as ours, someone has to be pregnant, and it’s definitely not Daphne, Sophie, or Francesca. And I don’t think it’s Eloise, Kate, or Hyacinth either. And it’s obviously not me.”

Though Colin had done a fairly admirable job of looking placid as his wife laid out her suspicions, it was when her widened, shrewd eyes moved up to meet his, awaiting a response, that his facade completely fell away and he let out a roar of laughter.

“Is this how you reported on pregnancies as Whistledown? You inspected everyone’s eating patterns? How much they spoke at parties?”

Penelope sent him a scowl. “It was more than that. I looked at who was of proper age, which couples actually appeared enough in love to be producing children, their energy levels, complex-”

“Alright, alright. More science than guesswork, is that a fair assumption?” He was still grinning down at her.

“You may laugh, husband, but I have never been wrong before.”

Colin let out a humored sigh before leaning down to kiss her cheek and wrap both arms around her. “Believe me, I would never doubt the brilliance of my wife.” He flashed her another grin before resting his chin on the top of her head.

He heard Penelope grumble against his chest even as her hands moved to meet on his back.

Two months later, the couple’s illustrious butler, Dunwoody, glided into the drawing room and delivered a letter from Gregory informing them that Lucy was, in fact, expecting once again. As Colin read the missive aloud to his family, he couldn’t help but spot Penelope’s small smirk over the top of her book.

So, naturally, later that evening, Colin paid fortune to his wife’s brilliance in only the best way he knew how.

And, naturally, one additional month later, he came to his very own conclusion as he watched as his wife finger-combed her hair at her vanity.

Penelope smiled at him in the reflection, her hand moving methodically as she swept through the locks. He watched the amber highlights he loved so much get picked up in the candlelight- making them look like little flames themselves. Softly, he returned her smile before stepping around her, leaning against the table to look at her directly.

She blushed slightly, looking back to her own reflection in the mirror as Colin continued to watch her, his mouth tilting upwards. His eyes roamed her face, taking in the rosiness of her cheeks and the steadiness of her focused brow. He noticed the light sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks, which though technically unfashionable for the time, were absolutely beloved by him because they reminded him of the sun- and even more so, of her in the sunshine.

After a few minutes, when Penelope looked as though she might burst with color, she glanced at him with a bashful smile. “What is it?”

“Am I not meant to gaze adoringly at my wife with every passing opportunity?” His grin only grew as her blush deepened and Penelope looked down to smooth the skirts of her nightgown.

Slowly, he stepped closer to her, kneeling down as he cupped the bottom of her chin. When her eyes met his, Colin let out a humored sigh before whispering, “I know a secret.”

Almost instantaneously, Penelope’s shyness melted away, replaced instead by an excited expression. “And that is...?”

Colin grinned, one finger gently reaching up to stroke her warm cheek. “I’m not sure I should tell you.”

And even though her face leaned into his touch, Penelope’s eyes narrowed. “And is it not a wife’s prerogative to know all of her husband’s secrets?”

“Hmm,” he moved his hand to push a lone curl out of her face, gently tucking it behind her ear. And then he whispered, “You’re glowing.”

Penelope flushed once again, her tongue reflexively reaching across her lips. “What?”

He leaned in a bit closer, just enough so that she could feel his breath against her ear. With a slight growl in his voice, Colin repeated, “You’re glowing, my darling.”

And just as Penelope sucked in a breath, he moved back, studying her with a small smile. “You glow when…” He trailed off, gently running a finger along the side of her face.

Her head tilted a bit, staring at him with wide, confused eyes. Colin chuckled under his breath. “You glow like this when you’re pregnant.”

And that was when he lost her.

Penelope’s eyes seemed to grow even as her brow furrowed together, her lips parting in surprise. “Pregnant? ” She let out a small laugh. “Colin, don’t be silly. I’m not pregnant.”

He raised his own brow, still grinning. “Yes, you definitely are.”

She laughed again, giving him a little incredulous shake of the head. “I’m not! Don’t you think I’d know if I were pregnant?”

“And don’t you think I know you better than you know yourself sometimes?”

She smiled at him affectionately, placing her own hand on his cheek. “I do love you, but I know I’m not pregnant.”

And even despite her conviction, Colin smirked, equally convinced in his own. “What makes you so sure?”

Penelope blushed despite herself, despite their literal years of marriage. “I keep a log and…”

And then she trailed off. Because suddenly, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d opened her little book.

And then her wide eyes lifted to meet his. “Oh my-”

“Baby,” Colin cut in, grinning, and Penelope let out a small huff that was part annoyance and part amusement. “I told you that you glow.”

Penelope rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “I appreciate the sentiment, but there is no such thing as a five-week glow.”

He shrugged, beaming at her. “Well you have it, believe me.”

Leaning in, Colin met his nose with hers until all he could see was the beautiful brown of her eyes. “You also have another tell.”

Penelope smiled. “And that is?”

Colin grinned as his eyes trailed downwards. “When you’re pregnant, you develop incredibly voluptuous bre-”

“Colin!”

“Penelope.”

[tigerseye46]

List of Peachpigshipping headcanons

Feel free to send or share with me some of your own!

For some reason, I can rarely see Wukong doing the dishes and Pigsy makes fun of him for it, both out of amusement and annoyance. Examples: “I can’t even convince my boyfriend/husband to do the dishes, what makes you think I can convince him to do [x]?” “Oh my gods you did the dishes, what did you do?” “Wow, you must really love me for once.”

I picture them being that couple that shows each other up, Wukong more than Pigsy because the pig is more easily flustered with public acts of affection. Wukong purposefully does sappy stuff to make him as flustered as possible. Pigsy secretly likes it but will deny it like crazy.

Like most of the fandom, I picture them being on the outs at the beginning but they get really soft around each other when they’re actually a couple. They call the other sweet nicknames since Wukong already has a habit of calling people nicknames in canon.

They give off vibes of a couple that act like they’re better than other couples and get completely smug. They are the best couple and they’ll fight whoever says otherwise.

Wukong insists Pigsy stay in bed with him and will try to convince him in any way possible.

If Pigsy is yelling at Wukong for something in a one-sided argument, Wukong’s reaction is to snark at him and roll his eyes or if Pigsy does something like cup his face during it, the king stares at him with loving eyes and gets lost in those blue orbs which frustrates Pigsy because the king should really be paying attention, he’s also trying not to blush under his gaze.

If they’re both arguing, they can argue for hours since they’re stubborn until they storm off to cool down or the person who’s at fault, if anyone is at fault, apologizes. Or they both realize how stupid they’re being. Once they storm off, they’re tempted to go back to each other which they either do so or hold back and become a little melancholic after that.

Favorite place to kiss besides each other’s lips: For Pigsy, it’s Wukong’s cheek and forehead. For Wukong, it’s Pigsy’s thighs/legs and stomach.

Pigsy likes to comb through the king’s fur, to the monkey, his partner’s hands feel like magic and it takes all his willpower to not fall asleep.

Pigsy constantly makes sure Wukong is eating properly since the king has a habit of eating his own hair along with other things like peaches that Pigsy argues doesn’t count as a full meal.

They have to be touching each other in some way, shape or form. Wukong usually just wraps a tail around Pigsy’s waist if their hands are full or they’re trying to be subtle. I thought about how they wouldn’t do this if Pigsy was cooking, but that’s completely wrong, Wukong would still bother Pigsy. He would plaster himself to Pigsy’s back, despite his partner’s protest. The regulars think it’s cute. “Is that your boyfriend?” “Unfortunately.” “I wish my partner was as affectionate as that.” “No… no, ya don’t.” (Almost forgot to add this one thing. Someone: *gestures to Pigsy who has Wukong’s face buried against his back* What have you got there? Pigsy: *holding a bowl of noodles* Noodles.)

They like to tease and joke with each other, their jabs are always filled with some love behind it.

Wukong is more traditional when it comes to courtship stuff while Pigsy is okay with it and goes with what Wukong wants.

Courtship bracelets:

-Wukong: A circular silver bracelet with a pink heart gem in the middle, it is surrounded by patterns of leaves. engraving on the inside reads “My peach”

-Pigsy: A circular gold bracelet with two gems on it. One is red in an antique cushion shape while the other is orange and circular. It has ovals patterns around it. Engraving on the inside reads “My fellow king (my equal).” I don’t see Pigsy as the type to wear big fancy jewelry, maybe usually just some earrings but he wears the bracelet anyway.

They stay more at Pigsy’s apartment than Wukong’s mountain since it’s a lot of effort for Pigsy to travel back and forth for work even with Wukong’s cloud.

They have moments where they stand there, completely still and Wukong has his arms wrapped around the pig, he rests his chin on top of his head while Pigsy has his face buried in his partner’s chest, and both just breathe in each other’s scent.

Pigsy oinks when he laughs sometimes, he gets embarrassed about it but Wukong thinks it the cutest thing in the world.

The monkeys like Pigsy despite his gruff nature, they really like his cooking and are happy that their king found someone.

Picture Wukong and Pigsy are sitting on the cloud, watching the sunset and Wukong has a tail around Pigsy’s waist while Pigsy clings to Wukong’s sleeves and leans his head on his shoulder (a friend came up with this one!).

When they’re on the couch, Wukong rests his head on his partner’s stomach and will look up with love and adoration present on his face, if Pigsy is checking his phone or reading, he’ll take quick glances at Wukong, only to find the monkey staring at him. “Why are ya starin’?” “You’re gorgeous.” “... Shad-shaddup.”

If Macaque is around, Pigsy sometimes gets jealous because he and the king have history that he feels he’ll never have with Wukong even though Pigsy has history with Wukong that he doesn’t remember *coughs* *coughs*.

I would think that Wukong does have some cooking ability (immortals get bored too, you know) and he’ll cook for Pigsy and the pig adores it, although he will take the time to criticize bits of it while simultaneously loving it.

Wukong absolutely loves when Pigsy rambles on about his family, the way the pig lights up when he rambles makes Wukong’s heart beat wildly against his chest.

In turn, Pigsy loves it when the king goes on about the journey even though he’s heard the stories before. It gets better when the king shares details never mentioned, because it feels like Wukong trusts him enough to share something so important, no matter how small it is and for some reason, it feels familiar to him like he was around for the Journey. *coughs*

“at some point while depowered Pigsy had carried Wukong for miscellaneous 'take care of yourself idiot' reasons, and now nothing makes Wukong flustered quicker than Pigsy princess carrying him. Also there's probably a "my hero~♡" joke in there somewhere” Princess Carry Headcanon from an anon

“Heres another PeachPig headcannon for u soul: that theory/speculation about Wukong shapeshifting himself taller and is in fact still the shortest one here? Well, every so often, if Pigsy's clearly had a rough day, Wukong will just... take on his actual size for cuddling purpouses. Its super embarrassing for wukong bc hes sensitive about his height but Pigsy seems to love both not being the short one and having his partner the size of one of those beeg plushies thats perfect cuddling size. So its whatever” Wukong shapeshifting when Pigsy has a rough day (given by anon + a small fic)

[spilled-some-blood]

How Slashers React To You Crying

Includes: Billy Loomis, Tiffany Valentine, Mark Hoffman, Jason Voorhees, Patrick Bateman, and Freddy Krueger

Billy Loomis

-Whenever you're feeling down, you know you can always turn to the brave Billy! He will face any beast for you, even if the beast is yourself.

-His first instinct is to cuddle you with so much affection you don't know what to do with yourself! He'll hold you close, arms caging you in so all you can do is focus on him.

-He'll pet your hair, combing his fingers through the strands. If you're sitting, he'll move you to his lap and cradle you in his arms.

-You can be sure he will pepper your face with kisses.

-He'll ask what's wrong. If you tell him, he'll listen carefully, comforting you while you do. If you aren't up for talking, he'll try to keep you occupied.

-Billy will sing to you. Just some soft melodies he knows, he'll sing softly in your ear, easing all your troubles. If it's not singing, Billy will talk to you. He'll tell you about his murders, about different ideas for movies, anything. He just wants to take your mind off all of your worries.

-All he wants is the best for you. He wants to make sure you're safe, you're happy and you're comfortable. He hates to see you upset. You're the most important person to him, and the last thing he wants is a frown on your face!

-He has a very hands-on approach, which may not always be effective. If you don't like him, all you have to do is tell him, and he'll back off. The same goes for if you want some alone time. He may not understand why but he'll definitely obey your requests.

-He'll do whatever it takes. No task is too big or small. Not when your happiness hangs in the balance.

Tiffany Valentine

-Tiffany’s a little heart, so she's much better at reading your needs. She can tell you're sad even when you're doing your best to hide it. She may not be great at reading and dealing with her own more unpleasant feelings but she certainly knows how to read you.

-The first thing she does is ask what's wrong. Why are you sad? Did something happen? What would you like?

-She knows that assuming what you want could only lead to more trouble and be counterproductive. So she wants you to be clear with her, even in tears. Do you need anything to drink? Do you want physical affection? Do you want a shoulder to cry on? An ear to listen? Some cookies? Alone time?

-She's the best at doing whatever she can to make you feel better because her instincts are always spot on when it comes to emotions.

-Desperately wants to know you're okay. You are her first priority, and although she wants to curl up to you and tell you everything is okay, she'll wait until you want it.

-If you do give her permission, she will bring you the comfiest spot in her room, with warm blankets, some wine, and just snuggle with you. Whether you only wish to cry, or maybe sit in silence, that's fine. If you want to talk, she'll listen carefully.

-She knows, at this stage, to treat you delicately. Hold you close, press gentle kisses to your face, neck and shoulders. She'll pet your hair, nuzzling her face into you, just to give you some peace.

-Will try to cheer you up with cheesy puns. Even if it makes you crack a smile, she feels satisfied. Your happiness is her priority and everything else will be at a standstill. She also won't let anyone else bother you while you're in the state.

-She might not like to deal with her own sadness but has no problems helping you with yours.

Mark Hoffman

-If you come to Mark when you're down in the dumps he has two immediate thoughts:

-First: Ugh. Emotions.

-Second: Why are you coming to him with help for emotions?

-However, as soon as he gets past those two general thoughts, he's more willing to help you out, even if he had no idea what to do. Poor confused detective.

-He'll ask you a series of questions to try and get a better handle of your situation and what you would like him to do. Things like: do you want to be comforted? Would you like to talk about your problems? If you do, would you simply like him to listen or offer advice? How would you like to be comforted? Would you like physical affection?

-The list could go on. Once he gets a better sense of what's going on, he'll be happy to help in any way possible. You are the person he chose to give his "heart" to. Even if he's not 100% comfortable with the situation, your happiness takes precedence.

-If you want physical comfort, he'll lay with you on the bed, letting you curl up with him however you want. If you don't, he'll let you lay on the bed while he sits on the edge.

-His next objective is to distract you from the unpleasant thoughts that seem to plague you. If he can reach a book, he will open it and start reading to you. Just give you something to focus on, instead of letting your mind get overwhelmed with your own emotions.

-If he can't get to a book, he will simply tell you random bits of knowledge and tell you about some fascinating stuff he learned. It doesn't really concern him whether you're really listening or not, he's just trying to use his voice as something for you to keep your thoughts straight.

-The moment you want affection, he'll give it to you. He's usually not the most affectionate person in the world but that will change the moment he knows you're not in a good place and you need to be comforted.

-He'll kiss your head, running his hands up and down your sides and back. The moment he feels your body stop shaking and the sobs stop coming out, he'll let out a small sigh of relief and let a tiny smile cross his face.

-He'll do whatever you want so long as it makes you happier.

Jason Voorhees

-He's a mix of both Tiffany and Mark. If you come to him while you're in distress or crying, his first reaction is to panic. Why are you crying?! What happened?! Did someone hurt you?! Are you upset with something he did?!

-He's not sure what to do at first. Do you want to be comforted? Or will touching you make you more upset? If he asks you what's wrong, will you be mad at him? Or do you want to talk about it? The last thing he wants is to stress you out more, and the possibility of that makes him itch with anxiety.

-However, once he figures out exactly what you want, he's really good at comforting you. If you want to be held, he'll plop you on his lap and embrace you. He'll tell you everything will be okay and press kisses to your head.

-If you want him to, he'll sing to you. He's not big on it like Billy but if it's for you, he'll have no problem singing even hum to calm you down. He'll sometimes just make cute little figures out of wood with his machete for you to look at to distract you from your sadness.

-The best out of the others in giving advice.

-If you're crying because someone made you cry, he will threaten to kill them. But, that's for another time. His main focus is on you... for now.

-He knows how it feels to be overwhelmed with unpleasant emotions, so he also knows how to handle them. He'll make sure you're comfortable and you feel safe, no matter what. And although he's not super physical, he will hug you and cuddle you and let you use him as a teddy bear.

-If you don't want to talk, and if you're feeling up to it, he'll put on some music or even give you a pair of headphones to block out everything else. Sounds and the outside world can be overwhelming, he knows that all too well, and music is a perfect distraction.

-He will try and make you laugh if you need cheering up. His dry, sarcastic humour will definitely crack you up if you're in the right mood for it. And seeing you laugh will make pride swell in his chest.

-Jason is great at dealing with negative emotions because he has to deal with his own all the time. So, he knows all the tricks.

Patrick Bateman

-When coming to Patrick when you're upset, he'll act calm and collected, but inside, he's freaking out. What if he says something that makes you cry harder? He's not exactly well-known for being comforting.

-But, he'll sit you down, and if you allow it, place an arm over your shoulders, and try and talk to you. His first attempts are to calm you down, speaking softly and clearly to try and get you to stop crying.

-If it doesn't work, he'll begin to silently panic. So, he'll use his skill of being persuasive to his advantage. One way or another, he'll get you to talk or even just listen to his voice and calm down.

-He's less physical in his approach, for your comfort or for his own. He prefers to use words to help people- more specifically, you.

-To make you smile, he will tell you everything that he loves about you. He'll tell you how gorgeous you are, how he loves your voice, how wonderful your company is, how your thoughts mesmerize him. Not a single compliment that he tells you is false. It's genuine.

-If you do need physical affection, there will only be a little bit of hesitance. He'll let you do as you please, he just might not start it. He'll be a shoulder to cry on, a teddy bear to cuddle, a pillow to hug, anything and everything. It may be a little uncomfortable for him since he's not used to it, but he will gladly do it if it makes you feel better.

-He's great at distracting you. He'll tell you a bunch of random things, trying to draw your attention from what's going on inside your head. Things like his day, ranting, the weather, anything. Whatever pops into his mind.

-This man may not be super talented in the comforting department but he cares enough about you to try.

Freddy Krueger

-Absolutely the worst person to help you when you're upset. Not for a lack of trying, believe me, but he just... isn't great at it.

-If you're not in the mood for it, his humour and antics can just make things worse. However, if you are the type of person who appreciates his humour, it can work.

-But if you're sad, you probably don't want to hear about Freddy fucking a tree or taking two dicks at once or something. Even if you find him amusing most of the time, these things generally don't help.

-If they don't work, Freddy is smart enough (shocking, I know) to see that his usual personality isn't helping. So, he'll change things around. His loud gestures and eccentric behaviour quiet down.

-His next instinct is to wrap his arms around you. He always finds physical affection comforting, so wouldn't you? Again, completely depends on the person and the mood. There is a very good chance it could work.

-But if affection isn't what you want, then he's lost. Comforting words and advice isn't really his strong suit. Panic sets in. What should he do?? What should he say?? He silently begs that someone- anyone- shows up to help.

-There is zero chance of him getting any better at words, but he will try. He'll tell you how gorgeous you are with tears and snot on your face, how great you are with dealing with him- just, anything nice he can think about you.

-His compliments are a bit weird, but he means well. And honestly, if he didn't love you, he probably wouldn't try.

[wannabe-fic-writer]

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 12 - Final Chapter

* * * * * *

Natasha’s lithe fingers follow the trail of your spine, her touch on your bare skin gently stirring you from your sleep. 

The touch halts, lingering on a darker spot on your hip. Using the tip of her finger she traces the pattern of the birthmark. 

She hadn’t noticed that before. Just another thing about your body she’d learned in the past few days. 

While you weren’t sex crazed, after your first time together, you and Natasha had become much more sexually active. Almost every available night you spent tangled up in each other. 

That didn’t happen of course until after you’d both had a long and understanding conversation about what had happened. 

Now though, you’re both closer than you had been before, in every way. 

Natasha moves, leaning down to press a soft kiss to the mark on your hip, before curling into your back and kissing your neck. You, basking in her warmth and gentle touch, cuddle back into her and grab her hand, lacing your fingers together and holding it to your chest. 

“Good morning lyubov moya.” She speaks softly, each breath fanning your neck. 

You turn in her embrace, a sleepy smile on your lips,“ morning malyshka.”

A faint blush coats her cheeks as she ducks her head. Making you chuckle and press a kiss to the top of her head, arms tightening around her. 

Looking to the nightstand, your eyes widen when you realize you’d both slept well into the day, the time reading 11:35. No doubt due to the previous nights activities. 

“Tash, we should probably get up.” You tell the woman, just barely upset you’d wasted half the day.

She groans, somehow snuggling into you further.

You didn’t think you’d ever see the day Natasha Romanoff didn’t want to get out of bed. The woman consistently wakes up before the sun rises. 

“Don’t you just want to stay here with me?” Her words are a whisper against your skin and you shiver involuntarily. 

Biting your lip, you try to build a firm resolve in your head, but with the way Natasha’s fingers keeping gently stroking your skin, and the small pout on her lips, you fold.

Playfully groaning, you nod,“ I mean I guess we can stay in bed a little longer.” You look up to the ceiling in fake thought before meeting her gaze again.

"You make it seem as if this isn’t exactly what you want to be doing.” She teases, eyebrow quirked at you challengingly.

Of course she’s right. What right minded person wouldn’t want to stay in the arms of their love. 

Instead of indulging her smug attitude, you lean closer and press a kiss to her lips. She moves to deepen it, her lips adding pressure to yours. And then she pulls away abruptly. 

Eyes wide you back up a little, in case you just did something you shouldn’t have,“ what? What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing I just, I have to pee.” She smacks a quick kiss to your lips and crawls out of bed.

You nod, then watching her sprint to the bathroom. While she’s in the bathroom, you use that time to get up and pull on some clothes, also picking up the clothes you and your girlfriend had discarded last night.

“This does not look like staying in bed.” 

Looking, your eyes move to the bathroom door where Natasha stands, hands on her hips. You can’t stop your gaze from trailing over the woman’s naked body. Every inch of her is beautiful: scars, curves, birthmarks, freckles, everything is breathtaking.

You nod and shake your head at the same time,“ yeah no I- well I was just tidying up is all.”

Green eyes narrow and she points to the bed. With a chuckle you obey, crawling back under the covers, and accepting Natasha into your arms when she crawls in afterwards. 

The both of you sit in the silence, reveling in each other’s embrace. A low hum leaves the ex-assassin’s lips when your fingers graze her scalp as you comb through her hair. The soft affection from you making her smile a little.

“Hey,” she squeezes you gently,“ I love you.”

Smiling brightly, you kiss the top of her head,“ I love you too Tash.”

Just holding her makes you beyond happy and you can’t express how glad you are things worked out. 

Seeing as you hadn’t exactly practiced what you preached, you hadn’t seen the benefits of total honesty with your partner. Now that you’re both on the same page it’s the most incredible feeling.

Natasha’s proven to be the most loving, understanding, and caring woman. Knowing that she can trust you wholly has her acting in a way she didn’t think she ever would. You’d pulled out this childlike happiness that she wasn’t allowed to have in the past. Moments like this: being affectionate and playful, happening more often. 

It’s not until Natasha’s stomach rumbles from hunger that you decide to get up. Leaving her to take a shower, you head out to the kitchen.

“Good morning Buck, Mister Rogers.” You nod to both men. 

They smile back, Bucky good naturedly patting your shoulder as you pass by.

“Looks like you slept well.” Steve notes, earning a scoff and chuckle from Bucky. 

“Or not at all.” 

Wide eyed you look back at the man, who sports a knowing grin. Steve’s cheeks heat up and you refrain from retaliating to Bucky purely for his sake. 

That doesn’t mean a comment isn’t made though.“ Jealous Rogers hasn’t put out yet?” 

All eyes fall to Natasha as she comes in smirking at Bucky and winking at Steve. You sigh, shaking your head at the woman’s antics and focusing on making her something to eat. 

As you cook, you engage in conversation with the three. They make it known that there’s been a spike in missions lately, something to do with some mad scientist over in California. 

Setting a plate down in front of Natasha, you ask,“ so they’re just mass experimenting on people and there hasn’t been any news on it?” 

They all raise their eyebrows at you as you sit to eat as well.“ What kind of news would you expect? It’s not like they’re interviewing the bad guy.”

“Well no, obviously, but if there’s suddenly a bunch of enhanced individuals tearing up the west coast I refuse to believe there are no reports on it. Some kid who saw them and posted about it, a family noticing their relative missing or showing abnormal abilities, hell a news report on some kind of superpowered mugger?” You explain yourself. 

You may not be here as a superhero but you’ve seen the way the public reacts to them. When the Avengers came out there wasn’t a news station that didn’t cover their every move.

“She’s right,” Natasha nods,“ we keep looking at underground channels instead of plain ole media.”

Both men share a glance, Steve then leaning forward and looking at you,“ where would we start?” 

A small chuckle leaves your lips,“ honestly, I’d go straight to social media. I don’t know what kind of programs or whatever you guys use but if you searched a particular word combination,” as you speak you go to wash up the few dishes you and Natasha had used,“ like superhuman + California it’s likely you’ll find something. Everything is always all over social media.” 

“So-”

Natasha quickly cuts Steve off,“ okay okay she’s given us a lead, let’s talk about it with Tony.” 

Both men nod, all of you understanding Natasha’s reasons for stopping it here: she doesn’t want you involved in this part of their work. 

In one of your many moments of honesty she told you that she would rather you not get into that. The team already comes back from missions and lays all that on you and you’re of course in danger enough just living with them, knowing in  depth mission details puts you further in danger and she refuses. 

And you’d also told her you genuinely didn’t want to be that involved anyway. As cool as you’ve seen being an Avenger can be, you have no interest in actually being one. Their therapist is a position you’re more than happy to fill. 

“Fellas, excuse us.” Natasha nods to them, taking your hand and pulling you back to your room. 

You can’t help giggle when she pushes you on to the bed and goes right back to cuddling you like you hadn’t left the bed in the first place. 

That’s where you both stay for the next few hours. Even when you decide to do something else she keeps you in her arms. While you play on your switch she watches over your shoulder, sporadically presses kisses to your neck, and asks what the heck it is you’re doing. 

Until the time approaches for you to get ready for tonight. Pepper had insisted that the couples of your friend group go out for the night. First dinner and then going to a play Tony had scored tickets to.

Wanting to be comfortable and still formal, you decide to wear a black pant suit, the top you choose is a solid black bralette, and you pair it all with a simple pair of black heels. 

“Zip me up?” Natasha steps out of the bathroom and turns her back to you.

As you do so, your eyes roam over her figure in the mirror. How she can make such a simple green dress look so beautifully elegant you don’t know but you love it. 

“You look gorgeous, love.” You tell her, pressing a light kiss to her shoulder. 

She smiles as she looks at you,“ as do you malyshka.” 

Once you both have everything you need, you leave out. Bucky and Steve are waiting for the two of you by the door and together all of you climb into Bucky’s truck.

Everyone meets up at the restaurant and are seated after confirming that they’re a part of Tony’s dinner party.

Admittedly you weren’t too sure about this whole thing for a number of reasons, but your worries fade away throughout dinner. 

There’s an amazing energy flowing through the group. It’s beyond entertaining to see the matching sass between Tony and Maria Rambeau. The woman is just as witty as Carol which makes their interactions with the billionaire very entertaining. 

You find yourself jumping from about three different conversations, one being with Pepper, Laura, and Natasha, the other with Clint, Steve, and Bucky, and of course the one with Tony, Carol, and Maria. 

Funnily enough, the first conversation sounds a lot like what you’d expect to hear from three wives, wine and partner complaints galore, with the guys it’s mainly sports(Bucky and Clint aren’t too happy about the MLB playoffs), and as mentioned, the last conversation is very sassy. 

“-if I can fly my suits I think I can fly a fighter jet.” The man continues is his argument.

With a chuckle, you look at him pointedly,“ Tony, my friend, pick your battles,” then you take a bite of your dessert.

Natasha notices the way your eyes widen and you eagerly take another bite. Her elbow gently nudges you and when she gives the cutest little pout you know what she wants. So you scoop another piece of the food onto your spoon and hold it out to her. 

A hum of approval leaves her and you smile, wiping a spot of chocolate off the corner of her lip, which elicits her to lean in and kiss you. 

The bubble pops when Tony speaks,“ it’s like we aren’t even here.” 

His words make your friends laugh, Pepper reaches over to smack his arm,“ pay him no mind, you two are adorable together.” 

“Natasha and adorable? Never thought I’d see the day.” Tony further teases.

“Hey T, remember when you lost that bet to me and had to wear-”

“Aye aye okay,” he raises his hands in surrender,“ no more teasing I got it.”

Pepper covers her laugh with her hand, knowing exactly what you’re talking about, and everyone else looks at you and Tony expectantly. But you smoothly change the conversation and everyone soon moves past that moment. 

Almost everybody. 

It’s after you’ve sat down at the play venue that Natasha brings it back up. 

The lights dim and she leans into your side, you wrap an arm around her, and the actors walk on to the stage to begin the play.

“Y/n,” she pokes your side making you look over at her, voice a whisper, she asks,“ what did Tony have to wear?” 

Resisting the urge to laugh out loud, you lean over to whisper in her ear,“ assless chaps.” 

Her jaw drops, the corners of her lips lifting in amusement,“ you’re kidding.”

You shake your head,“ it’s a long story but the moral of it is that Tony should not underestimate me.”

Even though your eyes are trained on the play you can feel Natasha still looking at you. 

If you were looking at her though, you’d see stars in those green orbs. Better yet hearts. You would see how absolutely in love with you she is. And she genuinely can’t believe it.

Had anyone told her, when you walked through the compound doors, that she would’ve fallen in love with you she would’ve laughed. And she would’ve been more wrong than she ever had been in her life. Because here she is staring at you like a lovestruck idiot.

You’d managed to come in and completely flip her world upside down. 

“Miss Romanoff, you’re missing the play.” A teasing smile masks your lips as you look down at her. 

Before you can turn away, she’s gently grabbing your chin, and kissing you. 

“Thank you.” Her breath fans your lips. 

“For what?” You frown.

“For proving me wrong. At every turn. You’re the most incredible woman I’ve ever met-”

“Shhhhh.” A voice interrupts from behind you and you turn around to find a frowning, clearly pissed off, older man.

Locking eyes with him you whisper/yell,“ hey buddy my girl’s trying to profess her undying love for me, if you could just not butt in that’d be great.” With a thumbs up you turn back to Natasha,“ as you were saying.”

The woman shakes her head amusedly,“ I love you so fucking much.”

Even though you can tell she has more to say, it’s obviously not the best place for that. Besides you know the two of you have all the time in the world, so you simply kiss her again,“ I love you too.”

* * * * * *

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o  @aaron-despair @natasha-danvers​ @wildhoney32 @criminallyhamilton @fayhar @nat-km-mh @chicken-wang09 @trikruismybitch

[allbrainrot]

Hi! First, i love your writing🥺 Now to the point. How about felix, sylvain and dimitri pinning after the female reader? We are basically yeeting ingrid and placing a fem reader instead😂 Like, they are childhood friends and the three of them have had a lovestruck for her since they were kids? And now they just end up fighting for her love or smth? Either hdcns or an scenario is fine! You can pick whichever you wish! However if you dont want to write this req please dont feel forced to! Love u🥺

Thank you so much!! 🖤 And yes, you got it! Bye Ingrid LMAO 😎😎 I write pre timeskip wayyy better so I’m gonna just say that reader is 18 (i don’t write NSFW or anything but age is still a thing lol) so that they’re in between the ages of Dimi + Felix & Sylvain and it works out, hope you don’t mind! I love you too anon 🥺

- Dimi is probably the first one to catch feels when they’re kids! Felix does too but he’s kinda just like wtf is this??? until someone teases him about it. Sylvain is quite ✨special✨ with romance but I think he’d be inclined to trust you a lot more because you’ve known him since you were teeny tiny before you even knew wtf a crest was! So he probably also catches feels when you’re kids but then he goes through his whole girl phase SIGH

- None of them realize their predicament until they all see you again at the officer’s academy together. I wouldn’t say they’re super obvious about it, but they’re teenagers (well Syl isn’t but shhhhh) who all like the same person so they’re going to pick up on each other’s crushes while reader remains ignorant. It’s not an issue that needs to be addressed immediately, but they’re all watching each other cautiously.

- Syl would have a massive head start on flirting with you, but he’s faced with the big issue that you don’t believe he’s being genuine and brush him off. Felix is constantly challenging you to duels to get close to you and also have alone time with you, although the other 2 will occasionally ruin his plans and insist on joining. Ah man bby Dimitri would probably come across as a little overbearing because he’s very protective of you and is constantly offering to do things for you. He’s just a mother hen that’s whipped for you and doesn’t know any other way to express it!

- When it comes to the 4 of you sitting together at lunch or in class, Sylvain is the worst. He’s very aware that his competition is far less bold than him, and so he’s making sure he’s always closest to you. Will squish as close to you as humanly possible HE WOULD DEADASS PUT YOU IN HIS LAP IF HE COULD 😭 If he puts a hand on your thigh or an arm around you it’s a wholeass declaration of war.

- Felix will likely become much more protective which may cause a lot of yelling at you for being careless or weak, but really he’s just so worried! To ease his mind, he’ll help you correct your mistakes himself (which has the added bonus of getting really close to you and occasionally lowkey holding hands when he adjusts your grip). Around other people, especially Dimitri and Sylvain he’ll be evidently sweeter to you to get the message across. A blended mix of jealousy and concern will make him very protective of you around the other two. Dimitri is not getting within 5 feet of you while guard dog Felix is around.

- In the Blue Lions the tension in the air is so thick you could cut it with a knife everyone is thoroughly confused but frankly just sick of it lol. Felix glaring at Dimitri? That’s totally normal but Dimitri is doing it back AND Sylvain is added to the weird stare off- wtf happened?? Byleth would have to talk to them after class and be like guys what in the goddess’s name happened 😭 They’ll all give a vague answer that doesn’t give away that it’s about you and each one of them has a jab at the others to shift the blame..please find your chill lads !

- At this point everything gets a little bit needier because they’ve all had this pent up yearning but have been blocked by the others. (If you’re ok with it) Sylvain will just randomly peck you on the cheek or your forehead when he sees you and you’re just like LOL ok ✨typical Sylvain✨ But when you sit next to him at lunch or in class he’s started very tenderly holding your hand under the table and you’re like huh ok that’s a little odd. If Dimitri is on the other side of you he will carefully take your other hand in retaliation. Felix will probably give in and do the same but he’ll snatch your hand a lot more aggressively and look away from you with a scowl and a blush.

- Dimi and Felix are both touch starved AF and would very much appreciate cuddles or any physical contact. If you’ve reacted positively to everything thus far, Dimitri will slowly start to bite the bullet and initiate affection because he wants it so bad. Any time you touch Dimitri, he gets sappy and lovey af and will express his adoration in hopes that you’ll keep giving him affection. Felix would never upfront ask for affection but he just kinda sits really close to you and glares at you with a little pout and you will have to realize that this is Felix language for ‘it is a crime that you aren’t cuddling me rn’.

- Obviously Sylvain gets lots of physical contact with women but I don’t ever see it as holding affection yknow?? Like yeah he spends a night or two with chicks after them crest babies™️ (i cannot take myself seriously this sentence is so funny-), but I don’t really think that they’ve done actual cuddling or casual displays of affection like petting someone’s hair because they likely don’t care too much for Sylvain and will just do the bare minimum. So in a way, Sylvain is also starved of affectionate touches and he would very much appreciate the little things that no one else has done for him. It’s new and scary for him to actually seek romantic attention, but he’s still pretty bold, just not very tactful when it comes to you lol. If you’re sitting by yourself on a bench he will not hesitate to sprawl himself out on top of you with his head in your lap and stare up at you with an innocent grin. Is also lowkey not embarrassed to whine or pester you?? His reputation is pretty hopeless at this point so what does he have to lose by sitting behind you in class and poking you while dramatically whining about you not paying attention to him?

- Attention is a huge deal to Sylvain. It’s one of the main things he’s looking for when he randomly flirts with people at the monastery. He can’t handle being ignored and that leads him to often seek many girls at once so that he always has attention when one is busy. But when it comes to you he finds himself in deep shit because once he’s gotten a little bit from you, everyone else seems minuscule and with others he only receives a mere fraction of the satisfaction he gets from being with you. So he’s gradually allotting more and more time to you until he hardly talks to any other girl. But Sylvain is used to being the one that everyone wants more of, so when he finds himself in the shoes of the smitten women that piss him off, he’s plagued by the worry that you’ll think he’s overly needy. So he comes to seek validation from you too. If he can just get you to comb your fingers through his hair or give him a kiss on the cheek then he can renew his confidence in trying to court you.

- Dimi is somewhat similar but for different reasons and in different ways. Dimitri has practically no experience with romance so he’s extremely smitten and has an overwhelming desire for the affection you give him that he’s never had. But he’s painfully aware of how extreme his feelings are in comparison to any other couples he may have seen at the monastery, and he’s terrified that he’ll scare you away if he expresses exactly how much he yearns for you. So Dimitri is always very visibly holding back much like he often holds back his strength. Dimi will do anything for you or with you, but you have to initiate it so he can be certain that he’s not smothering you. On days where he’s extremely lovey and never wants to let go of you (which is kind of often lol) he will constantly ask if you’re sure that he’s not bothering you. He is just so horrified at the thought of messing up whatever it is you have.

- Felix will be very easily overwhelmed by you, so it’s much better if you wait to cuddle up to him until you can both go to one of your rooms. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be touched, he does, but his feelings for you make him way too vulnerable for his liking, so he’s not going to want anyone else around. Felix is still Felix and he goes off to take out his feelings in the training grounds every free day, but has started occasionally coming to your room when he’s done for the day and receiving his required cuddle time away from prying eyes. He may have accidentally fallen asleep with you a couple times..

- You’ve probably snuck in to sleep in Dimi’s room on occasions when he’s dangerously sleep deprived. The man, the myth, the legend Dedue would definitely help sneak you in because he knows it does Dimi a lot of good. Dimitri is able to fall asleep with you practically on top of him in his grasp. Feeling your heartbeat close by and your hair beneath his head and hearing you breath peacefully is enough to ground him from his fear of losing you too. He’ll still have nightmares, trauma is a bitch, but when you’re there you can bring him back down and he’ll eventually be able to fall back to sleep (which he typically can’t do alone). It’s not a perfect night’s sleep, but it’s enough to keep Dimi functional and that’s what you’re there for. He’ll thank you a million times and unnecessarily apologize for the inconvenience, please do what you can to reassure him that he’s not a nuisance to you. 

- SIGH Sylvain, this god damn silly little goose, is extremely distressed by his feelings for you and even moreso by his developed neediness. It honestly kinda scares the shit out of him to realize he’s whipped for someone and at a loss for a way to ask you out. He’s used to having that power, to have someone’s feelings in the palm of his hand where he can do anything he wants. Genuinely trying to figure out how he would court someone is a frightening new thing for him and he’s suddenly on a playing field where he doesn’t have his experience or his power to shield himself with. So he reverts to his old ways to try to get a handle on his fear and have his confidence boosted back up. But of course, Syl still wants all the attention he can get from you so you so he spends all of the day with you, then does his other girl bullshit at night! It doesn’t go as smoothly as planned though..Sylvain is used to being yelled at by crying girls, but it hasn’t gone unnoticed that he ignores them all day and drops by whenever he feels like it, and he ends up getting in some pretty nasty arguments that do not help his already vulnerable state. So it’s like 2 AM and Sylvain’s feeling like a sorry sack of potatoes and just wants to be held by someone and talk until falling asleep in their arms. And there’s only one person who Sylvain wouldn’t mind being open with and who could provide him genuine comfort..and you’re the lucky winner of the ‘Sylvain on your doorstep at 2 AM’ lottery!! Unless your sleep schedule is wack you’re gonna be all groggy like hey uhh wtf Syl??? And that is how the occasional nights that Sylvain falls asleep in your room happen!

- If the 3 of these scenarios interfere with each other ummmmmmmmm no they didn’t 😳

Ok! That’s where I’m leaving off because I don’t want to try to write endings with you picking one of them it just makes me kinda sad LMAO. Bro omg it’s the return of the ridiculously long Allister fics she do be goin a little insane though 😳 But for real I’ve been gradually adding to this for like?? a week? And I just kept picking cute relationship milestones or whatever in my walnut brain and writing a point for each of them so that the 3 of them are equally written. So it might not line up perfectly but I hope you like it!!

[pudding-head-kenma]

You’re My Happiest Place [ Wakatoshi x Reader ]

Request: Can i request ushijima x gf manager reader Karasuno boys had a sleepover and decided to stroll around then saw the reader buying snacks at the convience store with ushijima being clingy to her and cuddles too thanks❤️

A/N: This might be a little all over the place, I was having fun with Karasuno being crackheads but also introducing the relationship between Toshi and his gf, I hope it’s still enjoyable nonetheless!

“I’m telling you, there’s no other rational explanation!” Hinata keeps pressing the subject, and by now nobody’s really paying attention to this argument. They know better than to argue against the boy, especially when he gets silly ideas into his head that prove to be difficult to push away. They just let him have his moment, opting for not agreeing nor disagreeing, safely going through the conversation on neutral grounds. Not Kageyama, though, he’s not buying any of this.

“And I’m telling you, dumbass, a ghost did not make you toast.”

“I didn’t put the bread in, my mom wasn’t home, my sister wouldn’t ever go near the toaster! Who put the bread in, then?!”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?! Do you HONESTLY believe-”

“STOP YELLING!” Daichi, as usual, has had enough of them arguing in the middle of the street and bothering just about everyone that walks by them. Although they don’t say anything, the other third years are thankful for the captain’s yelling, hoping for some peace and quiet now that he has told them off – seriously, they’re five seconds away from Nishinoya joining in the conversation and take neither side, instead making up a story of his own that would surely worsen the situation.

“Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

The next few moments are quiet, before everyone goes back to their conversations; they hadn’t had a sleepover together in a while, so they had wasted a lot of time just catching up in general about things that weren’t related to the team, even Tsukishima had blessed them with a few short sentences, and yet they all still seemed to have a lot to talk about.

Yamaguchi had claimed a spot next to Tsukishima, both of them walking far behind the group in hopes of not having to deal with Hinata. Sugawara and Daichi walked ahead of the group, involved in their own little conversation, while Asahi was borderline bullied by Tanaka and Nishinoya, Ennoshita desperately trying to get them to stop. Kinoshita and Narita walked a bit away from the group as well, mostly laughing at the scene in front of them. The remaining two were still glaring at each other, but they had dropped the ghost talk by now.

“Woah, guys-”

“If you tell us you thought of a reason why we should believe your ghost theory, I’m going to throw you off of that bridge over there.” After a good hour or two of silence from Tsukishima, he had spoken up in a warning tone, glaring daggers at the smaller middle blocker in front of him. Seriously, how long can this conversation go on for?

“I wasn’t going to! I was just gonna ask if that’s Ushiwaka over there.”

There’s a collective ‘huh’ from the group, and soon they’re all turning their heads to the place Hinata is bluntly pointing to. He’s a few feet away and turned around, but they can definitely tell it’s him.

“What is that bastard doing in our territory?!”

“I think we should go over there and teach him a lesson!”

“Our territory... Please be quiet, you’re embarrassing us.” Sugawara sighed, shaking his head at Tanaka and Nishinoya, who looked just about ready to go provoke Ushijima. “Technically, if you want to go all gang talk on us, we’re the ones in his territory. See? We’re close to Shiratorizawa” He nodded up towards a street sign, and that was enough to make the other two calm down – though Tanaka definitely looked disappointed for losing his excuse to pick a fight.

Although they have no intention of speaking to him directly, most of the boys are still looking at him, and the whole group has collectively stopped walking. There’s a certain tension in the air, be it competition or whatever else, and they can’t seem to walk away, even if they weren’t spotted.

In reality, it’s probably because it’s a once in a time chance. They rarely come to this part of town all together, and it’s probably not that easy to spot Ushijima out in public without his team. It’s like a peek into his life, not just as a volleyball player, and it’s somehow intriguing.

It becomes even more intriguing as Ushijima approaches a girl, and wraps his arms around her from behind.

Tanaka seems pretty offended by that. “That bastard! How dare he grab an innocent girl? Noya, let’s go over there-”

“And teach him not to mess with pretty women like that! My thoughts exactly, let’s go!”

They’re both grabbed by the back of their shirts before they can venture any further, Daichi more than annoyed at their reckless behaviour by now.

“Are you stupid? They’re obviously dating.”

Chaos ensues.

You jump a little at the sudden touch, but you’re quick to recognise the gentle hands around your waist. You tilt your head back ever so slightly, comfortably resting against him as you look through a few items on the shelf.

Despite what everyone might think, Wakatoshi is a very affectionate boyfriend. You wouldn’t exactly call him clingy, but he does enjoy physical contact from time to time. You find he likes grabbing your hand in crowds, enjoys wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you close to him, and it’s not rare for him to kiss you before practise, even if his teammates are around. He’s not shy about anything, having always been a blunt person, so he sees no point in being shy about his relationship, either.

“Hey.”

“Hey yourself. I thought I told you to go ahead and go home?”

“Felt like waiting for you.”

One of the best things about being in a relationship with Wakatoshi is that he’s very honest. You never second guess the truth behind his feelings, because he has never been one to sugar coat anything. If he likes you, he says it. If he doesn’t like something, he says it. It’s not hard, and it shouldn’t have to be. You always feel secure in your relationship, because you trust him to always be open with you. That’s why he’s so blunt about his display of affection, too.

His arms tighten around you, nudging his nose against your cheek in hopes of catching your attention, and for a split second you forget what you’re even trying to read on the package, instead glancing at him. He’s quick to act, knowing he only has a few seconds to press his lips against yours, and he does so without even thinking too much about it before giving you a little more space to finish your shopping.

Most people would think he’s rude; that’s one of the downsides of him being so blunt, he always says what goes through his head with little to no filter, which people often associate with not being polite rather than just not being a liar. Coming from that same judgement that he’s rude, people end up assuming he’s not very touchy at all and would rather keep his distance from everyone. That’s just not true, it’s mostly that he’s only affectionate with people he trusts.

You eventually nudge him a little, and he’s quick to catch the hint and let go, following closely behind you as you pick up the rest of the snacks and head to the counter. He’s faster than you, and he’s already offering the little old man working there some money. You know better than to complain, he’d tell you what he always tells you: ‘I wanted to do that for you.’ At first, it bothered you, but you’ve grown used to it. He told you he’s happy when he does things for you, and you’re not exactly angry at the fact he wants to buy you things. You both came to an agreement that he wouldn’t overdo it, though.

As you head out, you both remain quiet when you notice the poorly hidden boys behind a few bushes; You recognise them, of course, they’re from Karasuno. You already know two of them had ran into your boyfriend before, their blunt behaviour having surprised even the bluntest person you know. It’s a little funny, and you’re almost unable to stop yourself from laughing. But as Wakatoshi reaches to hold your hand all those thoughts seem to melt away, and you’re instead focused on him completely.

When you’re both in his room, he’s even more open with his feelings. He doesn’t take long at all to pull you into his arms. His cuddling usually depends on his mood; usually, he likes holding you against his chest, having you on top of him so he can keep his arms tight around you, and so that you can hear his heart. When he’s tired from practise, however, he likes to hold your waist and lie down on your chest, listening to your heart instead. He seems to be tired today, and your arms move on their own, your hands tangling in his hair as you softly comb it, knowing it’s going to relax him.

“I’m happy you decided to be our manager.”

You smile, knowing he’s about to bluntly talk about his feelings again. You hum in response, gently scratching his scalp, to which he responds by tightening his grip around you, bringing you closer. Wakatoshi always likes bringing you as close as possible when the two of you are alone.

“Why?”

He doesn’t hesitate. He never does, doesn’t see why he should.

“I wouldn’t have talked to you otherwise. And you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

He always tell you that. You see the way his eyes shine when he wins a match, you see the way he swells up with pride whenever he delivers the perfect spike, you hear the passion in his words when he talks about volleyball – but they never compare to you. None of that compares to you, it never could. He knew it from the start, and he helped you learn it as well.

You’re both quiet after that. You’re aware that he’s tired and might just need a nap. In his embrace, you always seem to feel sleepy as well. You call it a curse, and yet he calls it a blessing – to be able to hold you close without bothering you, since you’re both feeling exhausted. So you let your eyes close, your hands stopping their movements after a few moments as you both fall into a deep sleep. You can’t tell which one fell asleep first, but neither of you let go.

You almost hear one of the Karasuno boys yell out how unfair it is that Wakatoshi gets everything, even dating his team’s manager.

Almost.

[the-kaedageist]

@thunderpo​ asked for “on a particularly difficult day HC [cause I’m BiasedTM] sneakily seeking cuddles from his fave person?”

I hope this is everything you wanted!!!

banish the lonely echos with your smile (tgcf, hualian, ~1300 words)

Eight hundred years of loneliness and separation hadn’t vanished into the ether the moment Hua Cheng had Xie Lian regularly in his life, as much as he wished it so. There were days when he was fine, when everything was magical and he was filled with so much love and joy that the dark times he’d survived felt so far away that they could barely touch him. Then there were the days when it hung over him like a cloud, just waiting for a chance to bring him back to those long, hollow years of searching.

When he awoke in a cold bed, devoid of Dianxia, and felt emptiness clench around his heart, he knew immediately that it was going to be one of those days.

He remained bed for several minutes, staring up at the ceiling. Xie Lian’s side of the bed was cold; he’d been clearly up for hours. It was almost as though he wasn’t really there, still wandering the world, lost to Hua Cheng.

Ghost kings did not lie around being maudlin. Hua Cheng forced himself out of bed and started his day.

Upon rising, he couldn’t locate Xie Lian anywhere in Paradise Manor, so he sent a quick inquiry through the communications array.

“Oh, San Lang!” Xie Lian replied, sounding distracted. “I had to help Mu Qing and Feng Xin with an issue. I’ll be back by noon!”

“Let me know when you’re back, gege,” Hua Cheng replied; what else could he do? He was hardly about to burden Xie Lian with how empty he felt. He tried to comfort himself with hearing Xie Lian’s voice, but it wasn’t quite the same.

His morning continued along the same vein. He had a tense exchange with Black Water via array about settling a debt between them, trying very hard to save at least some face and not cut the connection in frustration. By noon, two different ghosts had shown up to complain about various conflicts around Ghost City, hoping for his intervention – this hadn’t happened until Xie Lian’s constant presence had made him seem more approachable. (He promised to send Dianxia to mediate in the coming days, even though what he really wanted to do was to tell them all to fuck off).

Midday also brought the promised return of Xie Lian, all the light of heaven accompanying him as he swept into Paradise Manor with his cheeks aglow from the exertion of returning to earth. His hair was a bit windswept, as were his robes, which provided an excellent excuse for Hua Cheng. He put on his sappiest smile and moved close to tidy Xie Lian’s hair, breathing in the scent of him. Dianxia was here. Hua Cheng wasn’t alone anymore.

“San Lang!” Xie Lian exclaimed, laughing. “What’s this about?”

Hua Cheng continued to groom Xie Lian’s hair with his fingers. “You’re windswept, gege. I’m fixing you.” Xie Lian’s hair was silky and smooth, and Hua Cheng loved the texture of it beneath his fingertips. An excuse to do so was worth the price of a horrible day.

He moved on to rearranging Xie Lian’s robes before stepping away and giving him a once over.

“Better?” Xie Lian asked with a smile. His cheeks were still pink, but Hua Cheng hoped his flush was now from their proximity rather than travel.

“Perfect,” Hua Cheng declared.

For a long moment, the two beamed at each other. Hua Cheng’s fragility was still there, lurking beneath his long-dead heart, but it felt lesser with Xie Lian in front of him like the sun.

As the afternoon progressed, Hua Cheng didn’t let Xie Lian out of his sight. The aching loneliness inside of him wouldn’t allow him to pretend that everything was normal. Instead, he gathered a comb after lunch and seated himself behind Xie Lian, combing through the strands of his still-messy hair until he had all but melted against him. Taking care of Xie Lian made him feel more grounded, but it wasn’t enough.

“I think it’s time to practice calligraphy,” he declared as the afternoon shifted into early evening. What a perfect excuse for Xie Lian to curl up behind him, guiding his strokes expertly. They no longer needed such excuses to be close those days, married as they were, but Hua Cheng still liked that he could use calligraphy to get close to Xie Lian without having to express it out loud.

Sure enough, after he seated himself and began his practice, Xie Lian curled up at his side and “helped” him. The feeling of Dianxia’s soft hands around his, the small puffs of breath against the back of his neck, the way Dianxia radiated the warmth of a hearth – Hua Cheng closed his eyes, desperately memorizing the sensations.

“San Lang, how can you write with your eyes closed?” Xie Lian asked with a laugh, letting go of Hua Chang’s hand and leaning over to cup his palms against Hua Cheng’s face. He studied him for a long moment; Hua Cheng stared back at him, trying not to betray the broken pieces of himself, but he sometimes underestimated how startlingly perceptive Xie Lian could be. “What is it?” his husband murmured.

Hua Cheng froze. They’d never talked about it, not really – Xie Lian rarely discussed the years before his third ascension, other than through offhand comments that were always guaranteed to be disturbing. Hua Cheng had a different method of ignoring the pain of those years, putting on a smiling face and pretending they’d never happened. “I wouldn’t want to trouble gege,” he demurred, half hoping Xie Lian would drop the subject and half hoping he’d pry and shine his light so far into the dark places in Hua Cheng’s soul that it would burn all of the pain away.

Xie Lian frowned as he continued to study him. “I could never be troubled by San Lang’s mood,” he insisted, reaching up to run his elegant fingers through Hua Cheng’s hair. Hua Cheng leaned into his comforting touch. “If you want to share, this one will listen.”

Hua Cheng wished he could turn away, feeling desperately seen by Xie Lian’s compassionate gaze. He swallowed, thought about it, put the words together in his head and then discarded them. He tried again. “Sometimes…it is difficult. To remember those years before I found you again.”

Xie Lian made a small sound, turning Hua Cheng’s face towards him so that he could press their foreheads together, still pressed up against his side. “I’m here, San Lang. I’m not going anywhere.”

The feelings that those words brought up in Hua Cheng were so overwhelming, there wasn’t really much to do other than turn sideways to face Xie Lian, hearing him squeak as he was jostled. Hua Cheng pressed their foreheads back together and took the opportunity to stare deep into Xie Lian’s eyes, reveling in the honest, calm love that he radiated, before he pressed their mouths together. Xie Lian returned the kiss, sighing as he pulled Hua Cheng tightly against him. They traded several kisses, sweet and affectionate, before parting.

“Gege,” Hua Cheng murmured.

“Let’s go to bed, San Lang,” Xie Lian whispered, petting his hair so tenderly that Hua Cheng had to deeply suppress the urge to make a completely undignified sound. “You can get some sleep, and I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

Hua Cheng reached out and tangled their fingers together. “Promise?” he said.

“I promise,” Xie Lian said, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead.

For the first time since he’d awoken that morning to an empty bed, Hua Cheng felt at peace.

[sandnin19]

Gaara Week 2021- Day 6 Memories

“Like a scene from the past

Where we look back and laugh

With love, love

A thought like a flash

Black and white hope it lasts

With love, love”

-Love, American Authors

A young boy raised his fist, ready to knock at the door of the Kazekage’s temporary room. He hesitated a but, unsure of how to address the man behind the door. He still found it...odd to call him “father” instead of “Kazekage-sama.” It hadn’t been long since the Kazekage adopted him, but as soon as Gaara-sama’s sister heard her little brother adopted a child, she immediately wanted to meet her new nephew. Hence how Shinki ended up at the Nara estate in Konoha, meeting the rest of his new family.His new aunt was kind enough to give them their own private rooms, but also scary enough to enforce some family bonding at certain times throughout the day. 

Right now was one of those times. He had been in his room reading scrolls about various jutsus when his aunt barged in, muttering, amusedly, something about him being like his father before telling him she had a surprise she wanted to show everyone. Not wanting to seem impolite, Shinki nodded his head and offered to fetch his father much to Temari’s appreciation. 

Taking a deep breath, Shinki finally allowed himself to knock on his father’s door while softly speaking, “Father.”

He heard quiet footsteps approaching before the door opened to reveal the crimson-clad Kazekage who smiled adoringly at his son, “Yes?’

Shinki ducked his head at the look on his father’s face, hiding the blush that was becoming rather apparent on his face. He still wasn’t used to the affection his father gave him, but valued it greatly after being on his own for so long. 

“Aunt Temari said she has a surprise and would like for us to join her in the living room.”

A quick look of suspicion crossed the Kazekage’s face before switching back to the small smile reserved for his family. Shinki was confused as to why his father would be suspicious about his sister having a surprise for them, they were a close-knit family after all, it shouldn’t be that ominous. Shaken from his thoughts as his father began to walk past him, he quickly followed his lead into the living room where his cousin and Uncle Kankuro were sitting on the couch arguing about which village has the best Yakiniku. 

“Listen, brat, before you go off spouting nonsense, you should keep in mind you never had Yakiniku in Suna before,” Kankuro teasingly scolded Shikadai.

Said boy yawned lazily, not at all intimidated by his uncle’s remarks, “I don’t have to go to know the best one is here, my friend Chocho can attest to that, she’s got the ‘most refined pallet ever’ as she says.”

“Has she ever been to Suna? I bet she’d think again once she tri-”

“Still picking fights with children, brother?” Gaara asked with a small smirk as he took a seat on the other end of the couch.

“He doesn’t know what he’s talking about! Tell him, Gaara, tell him we have the best Yakiniku there is! Tell him we’ve spent so much time and money at that one close to that bookstore you always dragged us to!”

Gaara’s smirk faded and turned to a frowned that belonged to an annoyed little brother, “I never dragged you there, you were the ones that followed me after we ate.”

“Whatever! You know what I mean, just tell this brat who has the best Yakiniku,” the hooded man folded his arms out of playful irritation waiting for his younger brother to assist him in this argument.

However, before Gaara could open his mouth to speak, Temari came back into the room with a book in her hands. “Why talk about it when we can show them,” she said, holding the book up for everyone to see it was a photo album.

Groans from her younger brothers were met with her declaration. So this is why Shinki’s father looked so suspicious when he heard Temari had a surprise. 

“C’mon, Tem, don’t make us sit here and look at all those old photos, no one wants that,” Kankuro tried to persuade his sister.

“I do! And I bet Shinki and Shikadai do too! They should learn about their family!”

Shikadai snickered as he took the album from his mom’s hand, “Mom’s right, this is important for us to see, right, Shinki?”

The other boy was still standing in the entryway of the room, not knowing exactly what to do. His cousin waved his hand, signaling him to sit between him and his father. Gaara noticed Shinki’s hesitance and, against his better judgement, nodded and made room for his son to see the photo album. He would regret this, but he thought it would be worth it for Shinki to bond with his aunt and cousin, even if it was at the redhead’s expense. 

Shikadai opened the album to the first page once his cousin seated himself comfortably. On that page were a few pictures of teenaged Sand Siblings. Immediate regret hit Gaara when his nephew laughed, “Uncle Gaara! Your hair! It’s so different!”

“Yeah, your uncle was a real punk back in the day, and his hair reflected it,” Kankuro said, reaching over to mess up Gaara’s now neatly combed hair.

The redhead grabbed his brother’s arm before he could touch his hair, “Yours was styled almost exactly like mine, you just covered it with cat ears!”

This earned another laugh from Shikadai in addition to a red faced Kankuro, “They are not cat ears! Ow!”

Kankuro began to rub his head where his sister had just hit him, “Why are you hitting me?! He’s,” he pointed an accusatory finger toward Gaara, “the one who said I had cat ears!” 

“You both looked ridiculous,” she said with a mischievous smirk. Both brothers were not amused. 

“Says the girl who has had the same hairstyle since she was a child,” Gaara muttered under his breath.

Now it was Temari’s turn to grow red while Kankuro and her son cackled. Unamused herself, she took both her hands and lightly hit the two laughing in front of her.

“Ow! Again, why me? Gaara’s the one who said it! Is it because he’s the youngest? That’s not fair, Tem.”

“How do you think I feel,” Shikadai chimed in, “All I did was laugh, I didn’t say anything!”

“And yet, Gaara sits there, not a scratch on him,” Kankuro whined. 

“I physically cannot hit Gaara, so I gotta hit you hard enough for the both of you!”

“That’s bull and you know it, Gaara can control his sand well enough to not block an attack like that from you!” 

The older siblings continued to bicker as the youngest looked on, fully amused at the scene before him. He glanced at his son who was sitting quietly beside him, watching his aunt and uncle’s antics before his eyes wandered back toward the photo album. 

“May I see this, Shikadai?” 

“Sure, Uncle Gaara,” he began to hand the book to his uncle when Temari stopped fighting with Kankuro to notice the exchange, “No! He’ll put it away!” She made a dive to grab the book before her brother’s hand could touch it.

“I was not going to put it away,” Gaara pouted, “Kankuro wanted to show Shikadai that Yakiniku place, remember?”

“Fine! But I’ll find it! I don’t trust you not to hide it away!” She flipped through the pages until she came across one of the many they had taken at that restaurant. This particular picture included a stoic Gaara sitting next to an equally stoic Baki with Temari and Kankuro on the other side behaving much like they were a few seconds ago. 

“Why are you two always fighting?” Shikadai asked his mother and Uncle Kankuro.

“You live with her, you should know how annoying she can get it...Ow! Again, really?”

“That one seemed to have been on you, Kankuro,” his brother said, a breathy chuckle escaping his lips. 

“He asked…,” the puppeteer mumbled.

“It just so happens, I remember what that fight was about,” Temari said as she handed the book back to her son. “We ran into my friend, remember? Sen? And you were being a total pig!”

“Who? I don’t think I remember her,” Kankuro said honestly.

“She was one of Shira’s teammates, Kankuro,” Gaara added.

The lightbulb went off in the older man’s mind as he exclaimed, “Oh! Sen! I remember her, the one with the nice a-ah personality.”

His nephews looked at him, not totally buying what he said while his siblings both gave him an irritated stare.

“Anyway, next picture!” Kankuro turned the page to reveal another photo at the same restaurant, but this time the two older siblings wearing their jonin jackets while the youngest was in his Kazekage robes. There wasn’t any evidence of fighting going on here, only what seemed to be a celebration.

“Aw, Gaara! This was after you became Kazekage, remember?” Temari said with joyous pride as she recalled the day her little brother was announced the Fifth Kazekage.

Gaara nodded his head as he continued to look at the picture with his son staring intently and his nephew with a confused look on his face, “You went to a Yakiniku restaurant to celebrate that, didn’t you have like, a formal celebration?”

Kankuro laughed, “Yeah, we had some formal dinner with the old geezers from the council, but this was more of a private celebration, family only.” 

“We went straight from that dinner to this one!” Temari chuckled. 

Gaara let out his own small chuckle, remembering how foolish he thought it would be, but in the end was grateful they had their own celebration. He glanced over all the pictures on the two pages in front of him, thinking back to the times they were taken. Like a lot of teenaged boys, he hated having his picture taken, but after looking through this album with his siblings, nephew, and son, he was happy his sister made him take the photos. 

“You know,” he started in his deep, authoritative voice, “pictures of the restaurant aren't exactly the same as eating there.” He looked at his nephew, “You’ll just have to visit and see it for yourself.” 

Shikadai looked at his mom, “Can we?”

Temari smiled affectionately at her son, “Of course, the next time we visit your uncles and cousin we’ll go there instead of eating at the places we usually go to when we visit.”

Shikadai grinned, “Sweet, maybe you can show me more good places too, Shinki.”

Shinki only nodded, trying to wrap his head around them visiting Suna. He was a bit curious and excited for it to happen, leaving a small upward turn of his lips.

Gaara noticed his son’s small smile, making his own grow even bigger. He wanted Shinki to be able to have photos like these with Shikadai for them to look back on when they were older. He wanted them both to look back at their childhood with nothing but love. 

[girlboss-molina]

good luck on finals!! flarrie + fireworks

thank you!!!! (also, she/they flynn supremacy)

send me a ship+prompt and i’ll write you a drabble!

-----

Flynn loved new year’s. They were finally expected to stay up late and drink way too much soda, wear blingy clothes for the hell of it, and blow things up without it being “an unorthodox activity for a teenager” and “reckless endangerment.” 

Every year since Flynn could remember, save the year they had their falling out with Carrie, she and Julie had gone to the Wilson’s new year’s parties. They’d recently made amends with her, though, and Flynn wouldn’t deny she was nervous for this year’s party. 

As she and Julie walked up to the open front door, the sound of pop music and the flashing of colorful lights hit them head on. The sunset across the lawn painted the sky with fiery streaks of pink and gold, casting them in a warm glow. She could already tell the sequins sewn into their golden dress were glittering. A sudden swell of confidence rushing through them, Flynn readjusted her distressed denim jacket, stepping through the doorway with Julie by their side. 

“Julie? Flynn?” A familiar voice appeared next to them, and Flynn would be lying if she said her heart didn’t flutter a little bit at the sight of Carrie Wilson, who was wearing a sparkly pink crop top and black leggings, with a scarlet leather jacket draped over her shoulder. Her hair was tied up into an elaborate knot, fastened with a small comb, and the faint blush she’d dusted over her cheeks made her look like she was wrapped in sunset. 

That was the main reason why Flynn was nervous. Since sixth grade, they’d been harboring some very annoying feelings for a certain Carrie Wilson. She wouldn’t admit it, of course; Julie had pestered her about it, and she’d always insisted that no, I don’t have a crush on Carrie. They would even try to convince themself that she didn’t, though that wasn’t happening. 

So, she stuck with pining endlessly. 

“Hi, Carrie,” Flynn finally said, cursing those bastards - ahem, butterflies - in their stomach. Carrie gave them a nervous smile. 

“I’m glad you could make it,” she said, wrapping Julie in a hug. She did the same to Flynn, who was internally panicking but somehow maintained her composure. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Julie promised, and Flynn nodded. She still held a tiny grudge, but it was all but erased by then. Carrie gave them perfect smile, glancing at Flynn before leading them into the house.

Flynn grabbed a can of soda, letting the bubbles pop on their tongue as she stood on the deck, leaning on the smooth outer wall, tapping her foot to the music as they watched the sun retreat over the horizon, a few stars flickering into view. She glanced inside, seeing Julie dancing enthusiastically with Luke; ever since their performance at the Orpheum, and Julie setting them free, the ghosts had gained the ability to be both visible and physical when they chose to be, meaning they could touch and converse with lifers. 

Flynn smirked to herself, watching their lovestruck best friend twirl around him. 

“You okay?” asked Carrie from behind her. Flynn’s eyes darted to her. She was leaning on the railing of the porch about five feet away, her leather jacket zipped up rather than draped over her shoulder, Flynn nodded.

“Yeah, I’m great! You?”

“Me too,” Carrie said softly. Flynn caught her gaze, and her eyes were a spiraling mess of emotions; happiness, apprehension, pride, excitement, longing, and something else she couldn’t place. Flynn bit her lip and looked back at the sky, taking another sip of their soda. 

At some point, she and Carrie had ended up wandering their backyard and up to the hill behind the house, up a winding trail that had been beaten in from years of exploring the same areas. Flynn distinctly remembered building one of the little rock towers at the top when she was twelve. Their heart fluttered, realizing Carrie hadn’t taken it down. 

For hours, they talked about who knows what, fun memories from elementary school, awkward middle school stories, hopes for the future (both realistic and ambitious), and soon they were both out of breath from laughter, standing at the very top of the hill with a view of the entire house and further down to the beach and city. The lights glowed like stars, and Flynn almost tripped as she stared at them rather than watching where they were walking.

“Whoa-” she started, before realizing that Carrie had grabbed their hand and caught her.

“Sorry,” she finally said when she’d figured out how to speak. She cleared her throat nervously.

“It’s okay,” Carrie said with a small smile, not letting go of Flynn’s hand. Flynn stared at their clasped hands, before meeting Carrie’s eyes, their lips curling into a soft grin. Carrie lifted her arm and twirled her, and Flynn laughed.

“I don’t dance,” she said, ignoring the fact that they had actually twirled.

“I know you can,” Carrie pressed. Flynn shook her head, but the flushed grin on their face probably didn’t make their case very convincing.

“Not a chance.” Carrie snorted, and if Flynn wasn’t already fucked, she most definitely was now. The crinkle around her eyes as she laughed and the way her face lit up made Carrie look like an angel given human form, and Flynn couldn’t help staring. 

They hadn’t realized it, but she’d left behind her denials of dancing, and her hands made their way to Carrie’s waist, and Carrie’s to Flynn’s shoulders, clasping behind her neck. She smiled as they swayed to no music in particular; maybe the crashing waves barely audible from the beach, maybe the bass from the music back at her house, maybe their own heartbeats.

“I thought you didn’t dance,” Carrie teased. 

“Shut,” Flynn retorted, sure her face was on fire. But Carrie laughed again, and all of Flynn’s worries melted away (that, or she’d had too much soda, which was definitely a possibility). 

So, Flynn retaliated.

They smirked and reached up, gently unclipping the comb holding Carrie’s hair up, laughing when she let out an indignant gasp, even though it was backed by a smile. But then, because of course she did, Flynn lost any sort of coherency she might’ve had, because Carrie’s long, reddish hair was framing her face in soft waves, and she couldn’t help but gently tuck one part behind her ear. 

They weren’t sure if Carrie blushed; it was too dark to tell, even with the city lights behind them.

Flynn wasn’t sure how long they danced; she’d lost track of the swaying and however many times they’d twirled each other. But before they knew it, a loud bang from a firework announced midnight, followed by sparkling light in all sorts of colors, fading into the pitch black sky. 

“Happy new year,” Carrie said quietly, her lips in a small smile. Flynn met her eyes, which seemed to glisten with hope. 

She wasn’t sure who made the first move, but soon they were stepping closer, eyes locked until she could feel the warmth of Carrie’s skin against hers.

It was Carrie who closed the gap. 

Flynn kissed back almost immediately, and then they knew what all those cliché romance books meant when they talked about sparks flying; though that might’ve been the fireworks casting them into a merged silhouette atop the hill.

Carrie’s lips tasted like strawberry chapstick; the same kind she’d used since they’d met in second grade. Flynn’s arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her closer, Carrie’s hands on her shoulders. 

The crackle of another firework sounded when the finally pulled apart for air, foreheads together.

“I’ve wanted to do that forever,” Carrie confessed, and Flynn’s heart soared.

“Dork,” they said affectionately, kissing her again. Carrie smiled into it, a giggle tickling Flynn’s cheek.

They took it back; it wasn’t sparks she’d felt with Carrie.

It was fireworks. 

[frenchmemories]

Renaissance (Chapter 1/?)

Series: Axis Powers Hetalia (APH) Ship: FrUk NSFW: Yes

---------

It was late. One-thirty in the morning to be exact.

He didn’t know where he was going at a time like this. All he knew is that he wanted to get away from home right now. He barely got his phone and wallet into his pocket in his desperation to leave his house.

His dreams have become less subtle and more violent. It became harder to ignore. He used to be able to shrug it off after a few minutes and go back to sleep but recently, that had been nearly impossible. He found himself slipping back into his old habit of smoking late at night a couple of times just to stop the pounding on his chest every single time he would dream about it. It was getting worse.

His dreams have consisted of nothing but what happened. That night that he watched him walk away from him and out of the door. It was that night where the alcohol and the sex weren’t enough to pacify the explosion that was waiting to happen. The ticking time-bomb that was their relationship. Jealousy, pride, and lust truly were demons that ate you from the inside. They turn love into a minefield that could be catastrophic with one wrong move.

0--0--0--0--0

“Arthur, I don’t know what you are talking about.” Francis groaned after a sigh. He’s been dealing with this whole on-then-off-again relationship with this man for about four months and it’s been… bittersweet.

Francis loved him. Truly he did. He adored Arthur from the tips of his disheveled, blond hair to the last inch of skin on his body. Every breath out of his lips was a prayer that Francis held on to and revered. There was no denying that Arthur was a beautiful man. His sharp, green eyes and his thick, downturned eyebrows, as well as his skin that put cream and roses to shame. Arthur made every hair on Francis’s body stand with every time he would see him as a whole, sprawled against his velvet blankets.

However, Arthur was an unhappy man. He was jealous, insecure, and easily stressed. He makes small things feel like unsurpassable mountains. A look, a change of tone, a sudden silence, all could mean huge to him. Francis often felt like he was treading on eggshells around Arthur and was often being careful not to upset him. He found this to be absolutely tedious, but he bore it with grace as Arthur was the complete opposite when he was happy. Arthur was affectionate and loving when he was happy. When Arthur was happy, Francis was too.

Today was not one of those days though. Judging from the tight, downward line that his lips had taken shape into and the heavy, deafening silence he’d been emanating, Arthur had a lot to say that he kept inside him. So many unsaid things pounded behind the door of his curt reply as he crossed his arms.

“Don’t play dumb.”

Francis couldn’t help the exasperated scoff that he let out. His hand shakily flew to his head, his fingertips massaging his temples and his eyes closed in strain. Frustrated. Annoyed. He could almost feel how long he would have to work to stabilize his lover.

“Arthur, please-” he began, his voice a little tense and high. “I just want to know what is going on. Don’t make me guess again. How are we supposed to sort things out if you don’t talk to me?”

Arthur’s frown intensified as he heard Francis strain to keep his voice level. Shouldn’t he be the one frustrated and not Francis? He uncrossed his arms and he sat down on the bed, turning to Francis, equally frustrated.

“You have been doing a lot of overtime at work, you’ve been unreachable on your phone, and you’ve been too tired every single time you come home. We barely do anything anymore. Your weekends are always packed with activities with those two lunatics that are your friends-“ he rambled, pausing when he saw Francis’s eyebrows knit as he made that remark about his friends. “I just don’t know where I fit in to all of this. I can’t help but be a little suspicious Francis.”

Francis’s hand ran through his blond locks, and he bit his lips, a habit he’s developed out of stress. Here it is again. The jealousy and suspicion. He has become so adept at dealing with this, but he has become increasingly aggravated the more he had to.

“Arthur, it’s a job. I need to focus. I am working overtime because we are planning that vacation to Santorini in 2 months right? You need money for that-“

“- I KNOW THAT Francis. I am not a child!” Arthur interjected

Francis only gave him a look and a little raise of his eyebrow. “-then stop behaving like one. As for my friends, I have only gone out with them twice last week and none at all the weeks prior. Am I not allowed to spend some time with them?” he asked, his voice increasingly getting more tense and on the verge of breaking. “You got to keep me almost all the other days before that, Arthur. I am allowed to have a life outside this relationship you know?”

Arthur stood up and turned around to face away from him. He struggled to find words for his frustration and was combing his brain for a reply. It seemed that with the way Francis said his piece, it would make anything he said in response sound unreasonable and demanding. He groaned.

“I know that.” Was all he could manage. He frowned heavily and walked towards the cupboard where his liquor was. He heard a small “…of course…” from Francis as he grabbed a bottle and a glass only to start pouring himself a bit of bourbon.

The silence that followed was so heavy that Francis couldn’t help but just sit on the small armchair at the corner of their room. He leaned back heavily and threw his head back against the back of the couch, then sighed and closed his eyes. He could hear the soft sound of liquid pouring into a glass and Arthur setting the bottle down on the wooden desk. He could hear the quiet gulping sounds from Arthur’s drinking. He could even hear the soft whirring noise of the radiator and the faint, muffled noises outside that were leaking through the window. He sighed once more.

“I’m sorry” he whispered. This was routine too. He would apologize. He would always apologize just so they could finally make up. He was the type who couldn’t sleep unless they were on good terms. So, he would apologize. Always.

“I’m sorry Arthur.” He repeated firmly and didn’t open his eyes or made a move to look at him.

He waited.

Soon he heard shuffling and movement towards him. He stayed still. It was coming and he knew it.

Finally, he felt the soft hand on his shoulder and the slow adding of Arthur’s weight on top of him. His legs adjusted so he would catch Arthur slowly latching on to his lap. He waited a bit more and soon felt soft lips on his cheek. His hand naturally moved to pull Arthur closer by the waist. He let off a soft breath and opened his eyes, only to be greeted by those soft green ones, looking at him intently. His hand squeezed Arthur’s waist and he lifted his own chin up, leaning into Arthur’s proximity. Arthur took the cue and leaned down to kiss him.

He kissed back softly but keenly, and softly grunted. His lips moved with a slow need. He deepened the kiss a little more and now held Arthur with both hands on his thighs, gently squeezing. Arthur’s one hand pulled at his hair gently while the other rested casually over his shoulder. He could taste the bourbon on Arthur’s tongue.

This was how it always went. They would fight. They would get frustrated. They would stop, issue still unresolved. Arthur would drink and Francis would apologize. Then this. The heat would come. The touches would come. The passion takes over and he gets reminded on why he stays. He remembers how much he loved and wanted Arthur, and he would succumb. He would always surrender first and pull him closer to him, where he deemed Arthur belonged.

Francis groaned softly as Arthur’s resting hand began to move to unbutton his shirt while they continued kissing. He could already feel his pants tightening a bit and he was absolutely sure Arthur could feel that too. He felt the small smirk on Arthur’s lips in response to it. His face was heating up. His own slender fingers toyed with the button on Arthur’s trousers and popped it open. He was satisfied with the soft gasp he received in response.

“Francis….” Arthur whispered heatedly. Francis shuddered every time that Arthur would call his name that way. The needy, flustered breathlessness of it was like a drug to Francis. He hears it and he gets greedy to hear it more.

He couldn’t help how he squeezed at Arthur’s thighs before he pulled those pants down and exposed the pale, smooth skin of Arthur’s hips and legs. He growled softly. He would get to see it again. Arthur’s dangerous beauty.

“Mon amour….” He hummed softly. He took off those offending trousers and simultaneously, Arthur also slid Francis’s shirt off of him. Arthur’s beautiful fingers were now on Francis’s skin, exploring. Meanwhile, Francis gently moved his lips off of Arthur’s and moved more to his jaw and neck. He softly kissed one after another until he was at his nape. He then sucked softly, his hands now on Arthur’s ass, squeezing. Arthur stretched his neck and leaned his head to the side, letting out a breathy moan. Francis’s blood rushed.

All traces of the fight forgotten; Francis suddenly braces to lift Arthur. The other man must have felt it coming and moved to wrap both legs around him as Francis stood. He gently set the Brit down onto the bed and crawled atop him. His hands slid down to hold on to Arthur’s knees to hold his legs up, his lips still on Arthur’s neck, paying it the attention it deserved. He licked softly and nibbled at his skin. Arthur let out a breathy and flustered chuckle before whispering. “Git… don’t leave too many marks.”

He laughed softly as well before gently starting to rub their members together. He pulled back to look at Arthur’s face and wasn’t disappointed. He was greeted with such a lewd, erotic expression while Arthur panted and bit his lips, eyes closed, a couple soft moans escaping him.

“Mine” Francis mumbled.

That was that. Another cycle continues of them solving their problems through this, yet again. Francis heavily disagreed with this at first but after a few times of their arguments ending this way, his body craved it in a sick, twisted way. Each time they would fight, it would feel like his body anticipated the heat. As if it was automatic. There were times he found himself aroused by their arguments as he knew what came after. He hated it. He loved it.

-END OF CHAPTER 1-