#fic: hopelessly devoted

[jeonqkooks]

Hey 🧡

Can I request number 15 (angst) - "I see the way you look at them" with Jimin?

hopelessly devoted | pjm

pairing: jimin x f!reader, side namjoon x f!reader

rating: PG

genre/warnings: angst, unrequited love au, jimin is a sad boi :(, idk i think that's it lol there's not much other than $4D

word count: 1.3k

note: i hope you're still around anon and i hope you like this <3 !! also massive thank you's to @daechwitatamic and @jeonwiixard for beta-ing me and not letting me think it was a flaming pile of garbage lol! i love uuuuuu 💕

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

“You’re a saint.”

Jimin turns to the left to meet the eyes of a man whose name he still hasn’t bothered learning. They’ve met a few times at birthday parties and other group dinners, but not once has Jimin officially spoken to him. He just knows him as one of Namjoon’s friends.

“What was that?” Jimin asks in a low voice, as to not disturb the scene that’s about to unfold in the adjacent room – the room that he, a dozen of his friends and strangers spent the whole day decorating with heart-shaped balloons and rose petals. The door is cracked open just a few inches so he could hear everything that’s going on and know when to burst in when the time is right. 

He sees you with your back turned to him. How fitting; him, always standing behind you, forced to watch you keep your eyes on another man.

“You’re a saint,” the man repeats simply, eyes full of pity, and Jimin realizes then that this stranger knows a secret of his that even you aren’t privy to. “I see the way you look at her.”

Jimin calmly blinks, even though he’s just been caught, bleeding heart and all. A single sentence, cutting him open a few feet away from where love is in full bloom.

He should be scrambling to deny any and all accusations, scoff and pretend that he has no idea what the stranger is insinuating.

Instead, he reminds himself to breathe. He doesn’t have anything to hide, at least not anymore. He’s only a guy, hopelessly in love with a girl who is hopelessly in love with someone else. The excitement radiating off everyone except for him is palpable. Your girlfriends can barely stay quiet and keep from ruining the moment for you and Namjoon. They bounce on their feet in anticipation, unaware that right next to them, Jimin is still wishing on a comet he saw a lifetime ago, that you would turn around. That you would leave everything just to go to him, to finally see him.

“That obvious, huh?” Jimin asks, teasingly self-deprecating even in the face of heartbreak. 

What he gets in return is a shrug. “I don’t understand how you can be so selfless,” the man says. “I could never watch the girl I have feelings for be happy with someone else.”

Jimin hums sagely. It isn’t even the truth. He doesn’t want to be selfless, he wants to be selfish. He wants to storm into the room and shake you by the shoulders until you understand that his affection for you extends far beyond the confines of friendship. 

He would do anything you ask him to. By extension, he supposes what Namjoon wants falls under this category too. If there’s anything that anyone should know about Jimin, it’s that he would go to the ends of the earth to make sure you’re happy, even if it means putting on a smile and telling Namjoon yes when the other man came to him for help on proposing to you.

Love shouldn’t hurt like this, but it does.

Jimin watches the scene unfold through the crack of the door. He hears the deafening beats of his heart in his ears while everybody waits for the crescendo.

Namjoon gets on one knee, and your friends can all see the exact moment your world stops.

Time halts, and Jimin reminisces.

Four hundred and seventy five days.

That’s how long he’s been thinking about the improbability of you and him, and about how things could’ve gone so differently had he been braver just a little sooner.

Four hundred and seventy five nights Jimin has spent, lying in his bed alone and staring at the ceiling. Restless and aching to the bone. Because four hundred and seventy five days ago, he finally managed to gather the courage to tell you how he felt about you after weeks of nerve wracking contemplation and years of unspoken, untested love. He’d rehearsed countless times what he was going to tell you. There had even been a speech planned, for when you rejected him and told him that the pair of you would be better off as friends.

It took him everything just to stand in front of your door that night, with his love so tangible he could hold it in his hands, clumsily prepared to ask you to keep it.

When you opened the door and flashed him that ever glowing sunshine smile of yours, his heart almost gave out. Five minutes later, it did, but for a reason he hadn’t seen coming. With that beautiful grin still plastered on your face, you uttered the words that completely knocked him off his axis.

“Namjoon asked me out today.”

Kim Namjoon, the man you had been crushing on ever since you laid eyes on him two months prior. He was part of the reason why Jimin decided to grow a pair and confess to you, but as it seems, the universe had other intentions.

He was one step behind.

Always just a step behind.

With every milestone that you reached with Namjoon, the part of him that always held out hope that it’d be you and him in the end gradually chipped away. Your anniversaries, the first time you met each other’s parents, and eventually, when you agreed to move in with Namjoon… Every time he listened to you talk about your boyfriend with a twinkle in your eyes, Jimin could only nod along and smile, muttering words of encouragement to you because he was a good friend.

He was a good friend and he was happy that you were happy.

Despite how much he wished it had been him in Namjoon’s place instead.

Despite how much he thought it should’ve been him.

Jimin understands it better than most people: Love is pain.

The irony isn’t lost on him, how the same word means such different things for the both of you.

You say yes, because of course you do. You’re the princess and Namjoon is Prince Charming, destined to come in and sweep you off your feet. This is your fairytale ending and Jimin is standing right here, merely a bystander to your happiness.

As Namjoon slips the diamond ring onto your delicate finger, Jimin has to grasp the fact that no matter how hard he tries, he will never be the main character in the story of your life. Your tears spill over and he watches Namjoon wipe them away. He commits to memory the complete and utter joy you wear when your now fiance gathers you in his arms and gently spins you around, the content smiles on both your faces blurry from a distance.

Or perhaps it’s Jimin’s own vision clouding from the sting he feels piercing through his chest.

His heartbeat is so loud that he can’t even hear Namjoon usher everybody in. He doesn’t really register his surroundings until your friends all rush to your side with delighted squeals of congratulations.

Jimin has never seen you look this happy before. Surrounded by the love of your life and all your closest friends, you radiate a glow that he has only ever witnessed in his dreams. Nobody seems to notice that he’s still standing there, rooted to the ground, while people celebrate what must be one of the most memorable moments of your life.

It’s not until your gaze dances across the room and lands on him in the dark that Jimin remembers how to fake a smile again. He immediately perks up for your sake, though he’s sure that you aren’t even conscious of the brave face he’s putting on.

He walks over to you then, wearing a bright grin and dragging a sunken heart that no one else can see. The hug you share is one he wishes could last for an eternity, before you leave him for someone else forever. The stranger’s eyes burn the side of his face.

Tonight is just another sleepless night.

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 27.02.23]

[royaibrainrot]

I’m reading an awesome eruri fic and found a pleasant surprise in one of the authors notes haha

[hazeism]

Hi!! Since pocketwei just recommended a bunch of your fics, I just wanted to tell you that I think you're the gold standard of dofuwani and mishanks on AO3. Actual inspiration. I need to sit down and devote a day to commenting on your fics because I've read most of them and your writing lives in my head rent free.

AOADFDUKIDUFLJ ??!!!! HOW DO I EVEN RESPOND TO THIS AAAHHA. "the gold standard" aahhadufdgu what the hell, dudedfkdufj. Thank you thank you!!

^^ Live Haze Reaction

Please don't feel like you have to leave any comments or anything, it already means the world to me that you took the time to read my writing, and be so fair and generous with it, (eyes glazing over, maniacal air) bringing it to life inside of you by considering it and letting yourself think about it (normal again), aaaahhaa it makes me so sentimental. We are alive !!!!

That said, of course, I'd be happy to hear anything you want to share in the form of a comment (getting the emaail is like a syringe to the spine for me), but don't overthink it or feel pressured to comment on everything or share in utter Platonic eloquence, blah blah. Just whatever you feel like saying, long or short, critical or flattering, observational or analytical or reactive, or even just an emoticon, it's all good!

(I suppose, too, it doesn't really matter whether you'd like to share them with me in particular--sometimes it's nice to give fixed form to your thoughts, and know they're worth that effort, so there's your explicit permission to simply use my comment sections as a medium to prove you exist, haha.)

but um. tldr. thank you! one million kisses.

[wearingaberetinparis]

@petalstofish I did it. It's here. I'm not sure if it's any good. I'm not sure what it is in general. But it's now seeing the light of day.

Hopelessly Devoted To You(r BDE), read the one where Lily has big dick energy and James Potter is a desperate piner HERE.

[ayatoscupid]

you know there's no turning back when you're giggling just going through your f/o's wiki page

[talktomegooseman]

Hopelessly Devoted to You Sneak Peeks

I’m in the process of writing a fic based on the song Hopelessly Devoted to You from Grease. It’s a Hangman x reader fic. Here’s some texts as a teaser

[roseshirtlouis]

do we think harry has read omam ?

[ao3feed-larry]

hopelessly devoted to you

by depetalrry

the devil works hard but larries work harder

Or the one where they're both dressed as Danny Zuko for Halloween. Or so it seems.

Words: 2231, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: One Direction (Band)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Harry Styles, Louis Tomlinson, Niall Horan, Oli Wright

Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Additional Tags: Harryween 2022, Grease - Freeform, Hopelessly devoted to Lou, it's cute, No Smut, No Beta, Fluff, Alternate Universe - College/University, Harry is Trans, One Shot

via AO3 works tagged 'Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson' https://ift.tt/s61Y5o4

[zhuletta]

This is probably a really weird thing to say, but I have to say something bc not doing so didn't feel right. Tho leaving this as a comment seemed off so I'm dropping it here.

Yesterday was one of the worst mental health days I've had in a very long time and it was a goddamn struggle but you know what got me through till morning? Your fic date me instead. Which I wound up reading twice pretty much instantly back to back. It was love at first chapter. I'm particularly enamored with chapter 3, one of many reasons is it gave me a case of fond nostalgia (something hard to do, tbh). I could list my favorite parts but I'd most likely wind up listing every part of the fic. Tho, I am very much in love with the entirety of them alone in Eddie's room for the first time when blitzed. The scar touching, the tattoo, Eddie covering Steve's eyes, the violent blushing... Yeah, no, the eye covering and violent blushing moment is probably my favorite part in the whole fic. But it was that moment of finding the 'it' fic for yourself with a new pairing. This fic is now the love of my life.

So… long winded way of saying: THANK YOU.

I just needed to say thank you. Because last night was fucking rough, but that was a lifeline that I could hold onto. It helped drown out… everything. So yeah, thank you.

Oh my god, this is absolutely not a weird thing to say, it's actually the opposite. I am so sorry you are going through a hard time, and I absolutely get you, fiction has always been a safe place from the hard times in my life and I am so so so so happy Date me instead was able to cheer you up even if just a little. Comments like this make my heart ache in happiness, so thank you so much for telling me!!

That particular part of chapter three you are talking about is also one of my favorites, I just wanted to convey that cozy feeling you get when you realize you've found your favorite person, and I'm so glad it impacted you, because I sure know I poured my heart on it, specially on the eye covering part, idk I feel like that's a really oh moment, you know? I wanted them to be giddy and happy after talking about what happened in the upside down which would be such a hard thing to go through and I'm glad that cozy feeling i wanted to write came across well.

Thank you so much for reading and telling me this, it's my biggest pleasure to help you through this rough time and just, thank you thank you thank you, this message really meant a lot to me<33

[justlemmeadoreyou]

This is the collection of everything I've ever posted! It's not too good, but I hope you like it anyways!

Please don't interact with my writing if you're not above 18. You can interact with me, talk to me if you want, but you shouldn't be here if you're under 18.

I TAKE REQUESTS! There are a bunch of them in my inbox as well, and I try to write them as soon as I can! But please don't do that thing where you send the same thing to multiple writers--it is kinda off-putting for me.

I would love for anyone to like/comment on/reblog my posts. Everyu interaction is much, much appreciated, and hey, it helps us grow. It's free-supporting people who write here. So please, do what you can!

searchable tags: #harry styles fanfiction for all original posts. (to filter out the reblogs) #ask for all asks in my inbox

Please don't repost or translate any of my works anywhere. Any support in the form of likes and reblogs is truly, madly, deeply appreciated!

Here's my ko-fi for any tips you would like to give me!

Hope you have a great day! 🫶

updated on: 19/5

HOLIDAY FICS 2023 [8]

HEADCANONS

jealous!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons

boyfriend!harry headcanons (another one 🙈)

dad's best friend!harry headcanons

mean!friends with benefits!harry headcanons

harry in love

grumpy!harry headcanons (mechanicrry universe)

husband!harry headcanons (explicit version)

secret relationship with 1D harry (headcanons)

《《 SERIES》》

Secret Little Rendevous | (co-worker!harry x reader) [COMPLETE SERIES]

In which you are in a friends-with-benefits relationship than Harry, and it gets messier as you go forward. (Not your typical enemies to lovers fic)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

Unfulfilled | (nerd!harry x reader)

in which you and harry are (friendly) academic rivals, and things change

part 1

A Chrome Connection | (grumpy!harry x sunshine!reader)

In which you are in desperate need of some car-fixing(and a place to live in) and you find Harry, a grumpy mechanic who supposedly dosen't care about people around him. But, will he melt when he finds a broken girl crying in her car on a cold Thanksgiving night?

a misfortune - part 1

windfall - part 2

melancholia - part 3

Hopelessly Devoted to You | (lawyer!harry x reader)

In which Y/n just wants to leave her abusive husband, and Harry is hopelessly devoted to her

Part-1 Part-2 Part-3 Part-4

Sweet Creature | (restaurant owner!harry x chef!y/n)

you landed your dream job as a line cook at Harry Styles' prestigious haus kitchen restaurant in chicago. the tough chef job demands focus, but it's really hard when your boss looks like harry styles.

part 1 part 2 part 3

《LONG ONE SHOTS》

An Eternal Embarce* (hades!harry x persephone!y/n)

in which persephone is back after 6 months, and the underworld blossoms once again. tensions arise too, but there is nothing that the king of underworld and queen of sspring can't handle together [Word Count: 7k]

Just the two of us -vday check in

Serendipity*

harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. it all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. as panic sets in, harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. from that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both. [Word Count: 5k]

Solace* (famous!harry x masseuse!y/n) part 2

harry is in need of some unwinding and destressing, and he finds the perfect masseuse for that. they end up growing much closer than the relationship they began with, but it's never that easy, is it? [Word Count: 11.6 k]

Rain-Kissed* (footballer!harry x nerd!y/n)

y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining [Word Count: 6.1 k]

Intertwined* (hockey player!harry x figure skater!y/n)

harry practices at the local ice rink every night, but lately, all he can think about is a specific figure skater that he admires from a distance. when she asks him for some "private" lessons on ice, will they give in to the stolen glances and undeniable tension? [Word Count: 6k]

《ONE SHOT/BLURBS》

SMUT

hot n' hard*

you and harry are at the pool for some fun, and you both rile each other up throughout. you both end up fucking at the edge of the pool and your exhibitionism kink has never been fueled so good.

thigh riding*

you playfully tease harry and, let's just say, it does not go well

don't stop

riding harry with your hands tied behind your back

breeding kink-blurb*

harry sees you around kids on a Christmas dinner, and he's obsessed with giving you his own

cupidity*

"don't make me take you home and punish you"

his* (jealousrry blowjob blurb)

harry is jealous, primal and dominant tonight, and you have never been so turned on

temporary fix*

in which a stranger at a bar becomes your good night (inspired by temporary fix by 1D (duh))

three knuckle deep*(aka fingering blurb)

in which you break harry's rule, and there are consequences

curves*

a plus-size!y/n fic

good girl*

straight up filth, sex w/ harry

euphoria*

soft dom!harry while his girl sucks on his cock

near the fireplace*

sex near the fireplace after a christmas dinner

a new year, a new beginning*

new years with harry's family, followed by some love making

FLUFF

drunk harry

in which harry is drunk, and you are trying to take care of the cutie pie

drunk y/n

in which you have a test the next day, and you find refuge in drinking and harry

addicted

about Harry’s addiction of kissing you

vexed

in which you are burnt out, and Harry comes to your rescue, in cute pajamas, with cookies and hot chocolate

tranquility

inspired by harry's pics of him swimming in the ocean

here for you

a fluffy period blurb, ft. pillow fights and kisses!

baby

boyfriend!h takes care of pregnant!reader, with a lot of fluffy cuteness. the baby kicks for the first time, and harry is overjoyed.

cuddles

ft. harry being cuddly and clingy

late-night serenades

you play guitar, but harry dosen’t know that. one night, you can't sleep, and harry's guitar looks quite tempting

breakfast in bed

in which harry wants to bring you breakfast in bed, but you have woken up. thankfully, he is cute and you're smitten

hold on to me

(trumpet player!harry x clarinet player!reader) you're both off to college after a while, and it's your last time playing together. feelings are comnfessed, and promises are made.

a christmas with harry

your first christmas with harry at his home, surrounded by his family and friends

dance with me

in which you and harry are at a friend's wedding, and you really don't know how to dance

thanksgiving

coming from a place where thanksgiving isn't celebrated, harry is more than happy to show you

ANGST

trepidation

in which you are too busy for the relationship, and he feels you slipping away.

insecure * requisite(part 2)*(SMUT)

in which harry feels insecure, because you want to keep your relationship a secret. ft: fluff, angst, dirty talk

waiting * for you(part 2)

a 6 month anniversary date turns into broken promises and doubts over your love

disconnected*

first time sex with harry, which leads to misunderstandings, miscommunication and insecurities

requests are open!!!

(*-> smut)

blurb night concepts

21/4

divider and header by @/saradika

[willownwisp]

love like a love song

a love sung, is a love that is lived.

author's note: hi, i'm opening my requests now so feel free to send asks for me! just peek at my nuh-uh list in my pinned for the things i'm okay with and fandoms that i write. also i still suck at titles, and pardon if my format isn't set yet, and my writing style changes. i'm an indecisive air sign also pls befriend me </3 it's so lonely in tumbles w/o friends the fic isn't dialogue heavy as i want to focus on feelings. <3 cw: nsfw mdni pls, SOFT AND FLUFFY, reader is a hopeless romantic and leon is hopelessly in love, fem!reader x di!leon kennedy, p in v.

What once was a sneaky mission to ease your midnight munchies turns into embarrassment when Leon, ever the alert and seasoned agent, catches you leaving his side, and unfortunately thwarting your plans as he follows the sound of your soft footsteps towards the kitchen. Finding you and wrapping his arms around your waist, the height difference making you nuzzle up into his chest and you smile up at him. Sleepy blue eyes, looking at you like you were his life line, and he's never shy to admit that you are. So you look at him like he's the only man in the world, you hope your memory etches every detail of his face because you are so disgustingly in love with each other, sometimes words fall short, and you want to love him with all that your body can show. You never learned how to dance, skipping prom might have been the best idea you've ever struck in your high school mind occupied with thoughts of wanting to be different, coupled with your averseness to boys. Leon doesn't dance, never learned to, the only dance he knows is a tango with death most of his life. Perhaps dancing in the palms of top brass? You pick. Yet the two of you both find yourselves in the kitchen at midnight, you in one of his old shirts, faded with time, Leon in his sweats swaying with you to the beat of nothing but the thrumming in his chest as he cradles you close to him.

It's laughably corny how the moonlight illuminates your eyes, the argentine glow of that lone moon like a spotlight as it peeks through the opened kitchen window. No words are spoken when he sways your body along with his as you are caged in his arms, you face him, and he stops in his tracks. If you were a cartoon character, you'd have hearts for eyes by now. Tired blue eyes looking back at yours, and you swoon, because you know you're his life line, and you're proud to be his. Leon captures your lips in a sweet kiss, you sigh in his mouth before your hands reach up to cup his cheeks, the feeling of his stubble on your skin is one of your favorite sensations, second only to him kissing you. Leon kisses you like tomorrow doesn't exist for him, he savors the taste of your lips that murmur sweet nothings when you think he's asleep, yet only pretending to, just to hear you. You're the only tender thing in his life, so he worships the softness of your skin, the gentle youth you had in you, because that will never be him. Your soft sighs, pleasant moans, are adorable to him, especially when you try to reach him, standing on the tips of your toes because you're cute like that. "Leon? Lovey?" "Hm?" "I love you so much my heart almost always wants to explode." You confess to him, and he swears he could cry, but not now. Leon scoops you up in his arms and lays you down the kitchen table unceremoniously. He covers your body with his and he kisses you all over, while you're wide-eyed and sighing whenever his lips land on your skin, leaving a trail of heat. Calloused hands slowly pulling up his old shirt to expose your bare breasts as he rains kisses down on you. Worship and devotion, Leon kisses the valley between your breasts, thumbs massaging your nipples while his kisses trail south. His fingers hooked on your panties before he gently takes it off of you. His lips follow south, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs down to your calves. He grins at the glistening wetness on your pussy before he presses a chaste kiss on your clit, another one, and another one before lapping at your wetness like you're a goddess feeding him ambrosia. Because Leon is a starved man, but with your appearance in his life, his hankering for love, affection, company is quenched and more. So he loves you with his mouth until you cum on his tongue. Your fluids coating his stubble but he doesn't care. When his cock slips inside you, he doesn't move, not yet. He puts his weight on you, lacing his fingers with yours because he doesn't just have sex with you. He makes love, because you are the embodiment of love for him. You savor his fullness, and he delights in the way you clench around him. Sometimes he wonders if there is another way to be even closer to you, to be one with your very soul. His thrusts are slow, he doesn't focus on roughness. That was for when he's stressed, or when he has gotten home after an op and wants to feel you, to anchor himself in your warmth. You lazily wrap your legs around his waist and sigh, your hands bringing him down as you cup his cheeks to let his forehead rest on yours. Deep blue eyes that hold the deepest depths of his love for you, and you stare into that ocean and dive with him. When you cum, you cum together. Basking in that love with the beating of both your hearts and the syncing of both your breaths. After a moment of silence, Leon smiles and whispers: "I love you so much that my heart wants to explode."

[graveyardcuddles]

Rhapsody - Astarion x GN!Reader one-shot

You and Astarion are ready to embark on a new journey together. You begin by shedding a painful piece of his past.

A/N: I'm brand new to hobby writing, and this is my first ever fic! This was based on something I actually did with my Tav and Astarion in-game.

tags/warnings: sfw, established relationship, gender neutral!reader, nondescript reader, tavstarion (reader is tav), kissing, in-game spoilers, angst, hurt/comfort, brief mentions of Cazador-related trauma, feelings, fluff.

Word count: ~2000

It's a quiet early evening in the Elfsong tavern. The private room you share with your lover is warm, windows shuttered and curtains drawn. As you entered the room, you froze, stopping to admire the sight before you. Astarion was resting in the comfort of your shared bed. Trancing, to be precise. He hadn't been trancing these past few days, and the sight of your silver-haired love resting peacefully filled you with relief. Slowly, you peel off your boots and make your way over to your resting vampire. Your hands and knees sank into the plush of the bed cautiously in an attempt to avoid disturbing his trance. He was roused from it easily. Eventually, you managed to settle your head on the pillow, simply observing him in a rare moment of peace. He lay unnaturally still, chest unmoving, eyelashes resting delicately where his lovely dark circles ran under his eyes. Hair tousled, collar bones just peaking out of where the top buttons of his shirt clasped together. His face was calm, with no trace of tension he usually had during his night terrors. You smiled. Eventually, your lids grew heavy.

It had been only a week since you and your companions had destroyed the world-ending threat of the mindflayer Grand Design. Your little group of unlikely friends were declared Heroes of the Gate. You should be feeling triumphant, but your victory had been bittersweet. Despite taking pride in the fact he had been one of its saviors, Baulder's Gate would always remain host to Astarion's worst memories. Just returning to the city alone was overwhelming for him: facing his old stalking grounds, his siblings, Cazador. Your relationship had only recently evolved into something more after his confession in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. You knew this would be difficult and messy for him, but you were already hopelessly devoted to this beautiful broken man who was finally trusting you with his heart, wholly and freely.

So you took his heart in your hands and held it gently through all his anxieties and fears. Through the sleepless nights, the sobbing, the flashbacks, and phantom pains. All of which only increased as his confrontation with Cazador drew closer, and the promise of power and security that came with ritual became more and more tempting to him. You feared dearly that you were losing him and that your love and pleas for him to see reason wouldn't be enough to stop him. The fear wound itself around you like a bramble, the heartache gnawing away at you daily.

In the end, your worst fears did not come to pass. He rejected the profane power of the ritual in return for freedom with you. In that bloody moment when Astarion finally ended Cazador, you were in awe of him. His glorious spirit and strength. You allowed him to let out over 200 years of grief and rage. Watched closely as he came back to himself. Helped him back to the Elfsong to clean him up and tend to his wounds. Later on that night, after things had settle and he was in the aftermath of his victory, you had asked him what he wanted now that he was free. "You," he had answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. It was you that he wanted.

He had taken you to the very soil where his two hundred years of torment had begun and made love to you in that very place as a declaration of his new life and freedom. He cleared away every painful thorn of doubt and fear covering your heart, much like he had cleared the vines growing over his tombstone with his own two hands. The beginning of a new life with you. Sadly, the two of you hardly had time to properly celebrate Cazador's death before returning immediately to securing new allies and calculating battle strategies against Orin, Gortash and finally the Netherbrain's forces themselves. It had all been a whirlwind in which neither you hardly had any time to truly relish in Astarion's new liberation.

You would never forget that horrifying moment the sun had turned on him. It's once gentle warmth that had given him so much comfort on your journey now becoming a burning, searing light. When you found him shortly after, hidden behind some crates, he was still scarred from the light. His face and hands were ashened, pieces of what were once his flesh practically flaking off in cinders. He was panicking, and you tried your best to stay calm for him. You offered him your wrist, reminding him he needed blood to heal. It only seemed to further distraught him. He was just as furious as you expected him to be and more so. Furious that after everything he went through, he was being forced back into the shadows again. Furious at you for pitying him. Furious at Cazador. But most of all, he was furious at himself for having dared to have hoped again. For thinking that just because he had been a very good boy and helped to save the world that the gods or fate or anyone would take pity on him and grant him this one thing. But no.

He sat there on the ground, knees drawn up to his chest. He had yelled so much about how foolish he had been to expect any outcome other than this, you half-expected his voice to give out. Eventually, he went quiet for a few long minutes before looking up at you, his beautiful red eyes full of sorrow. He tried to smile at you, but it broke off into a scoff.

"I'm never going to see you in the sunlight again."

He let out a long laugh full of bitterness before pressing his face back into his knees and breaking into a sob. It was then that you closed the gap between you two, holding him as wept. In that moment, you wanted nothing more than to take him by the shoulders and swear a paladin's oath to him personally that he WOULD walk in the sun again. That you were making it your life's mission. But you knew that wouldn't help him now. It wouldn't lessen the sting. It wouldn't soften the blow. Right now, he needed to mourn, and so mourn you let him.

You held him there and let him weep in your arms. When you offered him your blood again, he finally accepted, drinking in your healing essence and regenerating the scorched skin and flesh. You caressed the newly healed skin softly, kissing it with tenderness and reassuring him that he looked good as new. Later on that same evening, after you managed to make it back to Elfsong with him and were together in bed, he took your hand in his.

"I want to apologize, darling," You were confused, but he continued. "I acted abhorrent to you in a moment of weakness. I was so... angry about what I had lost. I was blind to what I still had in front of me."

He cupped your face, stroking the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Your sweet vampire. You took his hand and kissed his knuckles one by one. You reassured him that he had nothing to apologize for. The sun was one of the few pleasantries from his mortality that he could relish in again while tadpoled. The caress of its rays had become synonymous with freedom itself for him. And with the new love between you two. To have that ripped away would make anyone angry.

It was then that you told him that you WOULD help him find a way to walk in sunlight again. He had been surprised to hear you say so, as if he had expected you to write it off entirely as an impossibility, as he already had. But your words seemed to spark a new sense of hope in him. It was what he said next that took you off guard.

"That is...if this is what you want?" Your heart dropped. Surely he didn't still doubt how you felt about him? "I can understand if you would want to part ways..." Even as he says it, his eyes momentarily drop to the floor, and he sways a bit uneasily.

He is still always expecting the worst. Anticipating more grief. You took his hands gently into yours, telling him that if you thinks you're seriously going to break up with him now after everything you two have been through together, then he's going to have to start being a LOT more annoying. Because he isn't getting rid of you any time soon.

The next several days would be spent together, processing everything you had gone through. Your companions had all gone their seperate ways fairly quickly after a hasty celebration: Wyll and Karlach to Avernus, Lae'zel to war against Vlaakith, Gale to return the Crown to Mystra, Shadowheart with her parents and Halsin with his foundlings. After only a few days, it just you and Astarion left in the city. You had stayed by his side throughout this time, only ever leaving to get food or check on the acquaintances you had made in the city. But you were both growing restless. He appreciated your presence, but you could tell the time was coming for the both of you to move on from this place and make a new adventure for yourselves together.

You hadn't even realized you had fallen asleep until a few hours had passed. As you open your eyes, you see your pale elf has moved from the bed. He's seated on the floor, in front of the chest full of the shared things the two of you have gathered along your journey. You slide off the bed, and he turns his head to smile at you. "There you are," his eyes were a soft shade of carnelian in the warm lamp light. You came to sit by him. He seems concentrated on whatever he's holding. You touch his shoulder and look to see what he's examining. A dagger. Not just any dagger but one that made your blood run nearly as cold as Astarion's. Rhapsody. The dagger Cazador had used to scar his back, and the one which would ultimately end his wretched existence. Nineteen times. Astarion had stabbed Cazador nineteen times. You had counted each stab. Presently, he was turning the blade in his hand with a contemplative expression.

"Hideous, isn't it?" He scoffs. You noted he was taking care to only touch the dagger's ornate hilt and pommel, avoiding touching the actual blade at all.

"Is it..?" You stared at the twin design of the twisting gnarled metal.

"Silver? Naturally. How else is one supposed to permanently scar a vampire?"

You bit back the sympathetic words that were lingering on your tongue, knowing he wouldn't want to hear them now.

"Pretty effective at killing vampires as well, I'd say." You quipped gently. Astarion hummed in response, but his expression remained contemplative.

"Yes. I suppose it might be somewhat useful if we ever get on the wrong side of another vampire," he mused. You lean in closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder as you pondered the dagger. "True. Could also be useful if Petras ever decides to come around and bother us."

You're almost startled as he throws his head back and barks out a loud laugh. He sets the dagger down as it's obviously lost his attention for the moment. "Darling!" He exclaims. "You were the one who convinced me to save the poor wretch! Twice, in fact! Only to want him dead now? I mean, it's understandable, but clearly, I'm having a bad influence on you."

You couldn't help but smile back. This was the most you had seen him smile or laugh since losing the sun. His laughter was so light and airy it made your heart burst. "Yes, you are such a very bad influence on me, Astarion."

You crawled over to him, eyes locked. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders, and his gaze softens as you asked permission to go further. He answers by giving you a series of playful kisses leading along your jaw from your earlob to your lips. He locks on those lips and deepens his kiss, going slow and taking his time. A deep, passionate kiss. Your hands find their way into his curls, and they twine their way around your fingers loosely. He sighs into the kiss, whole body relaxing into you. When you pull apart, he's smiling, a touch of melancholy still lingering on his features.

"I saw you in my reverie," he says unexpectedly. You listen to him intently as he continues. "We were leaving the Shadow-Cursed Lands after Shar's curse had been lifted. I hadn't seen the sun in weeks, and then there you were, bathed in its light. I hadn't realized until that moment how beautiful you were in sunlight." He smiles sadly and kisses your hand.

You give his hand a gentle squeeze and look him in the eye. "And it's a sight you will see again one day, my love. I promise you." Your arms come around him and hold him close, stroking his hair and simply letting him feel. After a few minutes, he seems to come back to you. "I want to leave this stupid city already," he says plainly. You chuckle and pull away from him. "Me too, my love. We can leave as soon as tomorrow if you'd like."

Astarion's gazes at your travel chest again. He takes out the dagger again, looking at this time with disgust. "And I want to get rid of... this thing," he says with bile in his voice. "It's hideous, just like everything else Cazador ever commissioned. All that damn wealth, and I swear it's like he challenged himself to own the ugliest pieces of art he could." He huffed and shook his head. "I want to throw this damn thing away." An idea came to you. Looking towards the clock, you note there's still a few hours left before sunrise. "Would you like to get rid of it now?" You ask him, careful to only present it as an option. He's still getting used to making big decisions, and you don't want to pressure him. He looks at you. "Gods, yes."

The two of you head out into the warm night air of the city, and Astarion's nose almost immediately wrinkles in offense. "Gods, how have they still not managed to fully get rid of that rotting squid smell? I thought there were clean-up and recovery efforts underway." You roll your eyes. "There have been clean-up and recovery efforts underway, silly. They've gotten rid of all the Mindflayer corpses already. Your nose is just sensitive." Cloaked in night, the many little homes making up the vast reaches of the Outter City light up on the horizon before you. You walk together and tell him all about the acquaintances you've made in the city and how they had been faring after the chaos of the battle.

Eventually, you make your way to your destination: the docks of Baulder's Gate where you had all pulled yourselves ashore after crash-landing the Netherbrain into the sea. Astarion slows down as you walk along the dock. The last time he was running for his life, burning up in the sun. You hoped returning here with him to do this will make for a proper end to your illithid odyssey. At you stop at the dock's end, you take Astarion's hand in yours. You say nothing, waiting on him to make the next move.

He sighs and takes out Rhapsody, giving it a final look. For a moment, you wonder if he might hesitate. He stares at the blade intensely, holding it as if its weight were far greater than it physically was. Two centuries of terror. Without any further warning or fanfare, the dagger is airborne. For a split second, you can just barely make out a tiny glint of moonlight reflecting off the blade as it flew through the air. With a small splash, it's gone forever. Astarion lets out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding in. "You monster!" You exclaimed with mock horror. "You just murdered some poor innocent fish!"

Astarion rolls his eyes. "Maybe the Hero of the Gate should go and rescue the poor thing." He grabs you around your waist, his newfound vampiric strength catching you off-guard. He spins you around as if he means to literally throw you off the dock, and while you're fairly certain he's joking, you panic nonetheless. You let out a high-pitched "ASTARION!" that practically comes out as a shriek.

He's giggling like a madman as he sets you down, holding your shoulders for a moment to steady you. "You're lucky I love you as much as I do, you know," you mutter as he continues to laugh at how easily he can tease you. "You're adorable when you pretend to be annoyed with me," he says. The two of you sit on the dock together for a long while, holding hands and simply taking in the starlight dancing on the water. "There's something else I wanted to discard as well, actually." He reaches into his pocket and produces two rings that you recognize as the twin Szarr family rings you had used to unlock your way through Cazador's mansion.

Astarion contenplates the rings in his palm. "You know I..." the words catch in his throat, seemingly paralyzed. You wait for him to continue, and after a few moments, he shakes his head, a smile barely perceptible.

"It's nothing, my dear. You know Cazador really did have the most hideous taste in things, including jewelry. Can you imagine wearing these? Ugh." You take one of the rings and examine it. "Hmm. Not my style, I'll be honest."

"That's because you're not blind, darling." He stands up and prepares to throw it.

"Together?"

"Together."

[ayatoscupid]

even if the world is ending, i wanna stay with you.

wedding moodboard! featuring our signature colours, blue and pink. it’s pretty obvious here that we had our wedding outside, surrounded by flowers—hydrangeas, to be exact! since it’s their blooming season, and i like to think that it’s our flower. yk? even though our favourite flowers are different. ;p

wedding playlist is linked below, and the theme song for this special occasion is rock with you by seventeen! i’ve always found comfort in this song, and now with this wedding, i associate it with even more happy memories! <3 enjoy!

playlist (spotify). playlist (youtube).

[cillianhead]

Hey hey, I just found your blog and I really like your writing - especially Sitting Pretty since I'm a sucker for those Crane fics. :3

Would you maybe be up for some kind of comfort/fluff fic with Crane?

I am always up for some comfort/fluff when it comes to Dr Jonathan Crane. He's so babygirl <3

Anyway, I hope you enjoy.... thank you so much for your request!

Nothing's Gonna Hurt You Baby || Jonathan Crane x Reader

warnings: none really, some brief mentions of violence, crying, angsty but also fluffy and comforting at the end, not really anything that bad to be honest, sort of non-canonical to anything that actually happened in the films.

It had been around a week since you had seen your boyfriend of three years. This was the longest you had gone without seeing Jonathan, without even hearing a peep from him. You even went to his work, he hadn't been there either. You knew what sort of dangerous work he did outside of Arkham and also within it, you knew the dangers and the risks he faced every time he left your apartment. You were still hopelessly devoted to him, despite the bad things that he has done and continues to do. You knew he would never hurt you. Him being gone felt like someone had ripped your heart out... like your soul was slowly being eaten away. Where was he? Was he even still alive? No. You mustn't think like that.

It was only a week, maybe he just needed some time away. Though he would've at least taken time off work, surely? His work told you he hadn't called in sick but he was supposed to be there. But he wasn't.

You hadn't cried. You found yourself growing more and more numb to the absence of Jonathan. It was like your body trying to reject a foreign object, trying to spit him out of your heart. It was painful and agonizingly slow, you knew you could never get over him, especially if you never got to say goodbye. His things lying around your apartment were a painful reminder of the fact he was gone. And he probably was never coming back.

You hadn't slept, at least not very well, in four days. You'd barely been eating either, maybe a stale cracker or two every now and then but you couldn't bring yourself to eat any proper meals. The best you could do was stare at the tiled wall as you stood in the scalding hot shower, trying to burn away the grief.

With the growing hunger and the fact you barely slept, paranoia was also sprouting within you, like some sort of sickly weed. You were worried that if Jonathan had been captured, whatever got him, was coming for you next. Every tiny little noise, every rumble, or car horn outside sent you running to the comfort of your shared bed. The one that smelt like him. You really couldn't sleep. Every shadow looked like some sort of evil horned figure ready to devour you whole, your eyes wide and frozen, helplessly full of fear. You thought about how Jonathan would assess this situation, how nerdy he got when you were afraid, in its own way you found it comforting the way he explained the body's reaction to fear and the way he explained the mind's power over the body.

The sleep you did get would be full of nightmares or vividly heartbreaking dreams. There was one you couldn't get over, a dream so sweet, more like a memory than anything else. Jonathan coming home from work, taking off his clothes and crawling into bed with you. His hands caressed your back softly, arms cradling you like you could shatter at any moment if he held you too tight. It felt so painfully real, that even when you began to wake up you could still feel him there. Still feeling his arms around you.

"Jonathan..." You whispered a sigh of relief, his arms pulled away from you as your heart raced with joy. Sitting up and looking around to find yourself just as alone as you had been for the past week. That's when you began to cry. "Jonathan..." You sobbed into your hands, you couldn't fall asleep after that. It was four in the morning, and the room was pretty much pitch black as you cried to yourself like a baby needing its mother.

Even more time passed. You were hysterical, you didn't pick up your phone when your friends called, you didn't leave the house, you didn't eat, and you most definitely didn't sleep. You were in bad shape, to say the least. It was that time of the year when the rain began to pour, your glass walls showed the bruised sky and the lightning it unleashed upon Gotham. You didn't work, Jonathan insisted on you staying at home, for him to provide for you. You were pretty happy staying at home and doing as you pleased. But now... it felt so different, there was no one to come home to you. You were pretty certain that the love of your life had died and you were going to spend the rest of your time alone. You knew you could never love again.

As if the sky knew how you felt, it only rained harder, it rained for days and it never stopped. You sat on the couch with a blanket draped over you as you lifelessly stared out at the dark sky. It was the middle of the night, and you thought about sweet nothings you and Jonathan shared. You thought about how lucky you were to see that side of him, so lucky you weren't on the other end, seeing the scarecrow, full of fear toxin. You thought about Jonathan humming while he made you pancakes, thought about the way he wrote you love letters almost every morning before he left for work, thought about the way you both were ready to get married soon. You remembered him holding your stomach while you brushed your teeth before bed and saying in that beautiful voice of his; "One day, you and I, are gonna have a bunch of beautiful babies and we'll live far far away from here. Everything will be perfect."

You sobbed and nothing brought you out of it. The pain in your chest was unbearable, no stupid fucking sad song or badly written poem could ever express it. There was no comprehensible word in any language that could truly explain away the agony you were in. You were no longer paranoid that something was going to come and hurt you, in fact, if there was someone or something out there coming to get you, you'd happily let it come in and put you out of your goddamn misery.

It was two soft raps on your bedroom window from the fire escape that caught your attention. You froze and stopped your crying, listening for it again, wondering if maybe you were just hearing things.

It's when you hear them again that you manage to stand up on shaky legs and wander into your bedroom that you see a shadow, leaning its weight against the window tiredly. It was him. With all the energy you could muster up, you ran to the window and slid it open before grabbing ahold of him and pulling him into your bedroom. You felt like you were going to have a heart attack.

"Y/N," Jonathan whispered. You didn't say a word, just turned on the lamp to light up the room. If this was a dream, you were going to try and enjoy every second of it. If this was the only way you could see your Jonny then you would take in every moment. "I... I missed you." And when you turned around, ready to scold him, ready to scream your lungs out at him for being gone, your heart broke all over again. His clothes were torn and covered in dried-up blood. Jonathan's neck was covered in bruises in the shape of handprints and his eyes were tired and void of any life. "Jonathan..." You whimpered, approaching him, he winced a bit as you placed your hands softly on his face. "Where have you been? What happened to you?" You were going to be angry at him before but now you understood... it wasn't his fault. He was soaking wet and you could see he had been crying too.

"I... I can't... really remember... I was drugged..." He mumbled, Jonathan's fingers curled around your waist and pulled you into a bone-crunching hug. He breathed you in, embracing you again was the only medicine he needed. Holding you was the only thing that could tell him was truly okay. "The Batman got me... I don't know how I managed to escape... just ended up here... I've been walking for days."

"Jonny..." You were crying as you sat him gently down on the bed. "I thought you..." You whispered. The strength was not in you to say it. "I thought you were..."

"Dead?" Jonathan croaked out, his voice was hoarse in a way that told you he had spent days on end screaming, from the torture he had been put through. "Yeah, me too." He said dryly.

You helped him undress. The clothes were pretty much useless so you tossed them on the floor in a pile to throw away later. "Let me clean you up..."

"No." He said. "Not right now..." Jonathan shook his head as he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest as you laid down in the bed with him again. "I just need to feel you..." His voice broke and in the process, your heart broke too. You could hear how defeated he was. "Need to feel you there." You understood, not saying another word as you clung to him. You listened to the sound of his heart, ear pressed right against his bare and bruised chest. You heard him sniffle, immediately causing you to pull away. "Oh, baby..." You cooed sadly, brushing a tear off his wounded cheek. The dam gates were open now as he began to cry, wincing at the salty tears mixing in with his busted face. "I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry that happened to you... I was so worried... you're here now... you're here with me... my baby."

"I thought about you every second," He sobbed. Jonathan looked like a helpless little child at that moment, his blue eyes were pitiful. "I thought I was going to die... thought I was never gonna get the chance to say goodbye to you..."

Together you sat crying, both with relief and sorrow as the rain poured outside, the heaven's crying with you. Everything felt okay again, for the both of you, now that you were with one another. "It's okay, Jonny." You tried to console him. Things had happened to him before, he'd been beaten up or caught in dangerous situations but he usually came home shrugging it off, this time you could tell he was severely traumatized, you could tell this was going to take a while for him to get over. Jonathan had that thousand-yard stare, that mischievous fire that usually lit up his eyes had been extinguished and now reflected the dreary weather outside. "I love you, baby, it's okay... nothing's ever going to hurt you again." You whispered, he leaned in, pressing a kiss to your lips. You kissed him as gently as you could, knowing his lip was swollen and split open, you could taste the metallic blood from his mouth and the saltiness of his tears.

"Y/N..." Jonathan wept, his face now buried in between your neck and your jaw. "It hurts." The tone of his voice was the most heart-shattering thing you'd ever heard.

"I know, my baby," You hushed as you laid back down again, caressing his hair that was still wet from the rain. "Nothing will ever hurt you again." You reassured once again. "Nothing's going to take you from my side."

You cried your own tears of sadness, relieved he was back in your arms, relieved that you were there to take care of him and nurse him back to health. The morning sun had begun to rise by the time you two had properly nestled into your bed, skin pressed together, legs intertwined. Jonathan slept in your arms, you held him like a baby, you couldn't sleep, too happy to have him in your arms again.

"As long as you're with me, you'll be just fine..." You whispered softly into his hair.

-

[vampiretendencies]

went out searching for an angel, then you came to me my darling ✩

request; hi love!! i had an idea of what jj would be like on a first date with his crush of all time!! maybe he’s been chasing her for ages and now the day is finally here where he gets to take her out! maybe he picked up extra shifts in preparation so he can pay for dinner and he’s all shy and nervous because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing and even bought a new shirt so he looks all pretty for her? i love your fics so much, i hope you like this idea, can’t wait to see what you do with it pairing; jj maybank x fem!reader (reader is kind of a badass) warnings; fluff, i decided to set this while they are in high school still cause it just seemed right, BUT they are seniors here, making them 18. my characters are always aged up, keep that in mind. mentions of jj’s dad, luke, bullying, suggestive. proofread, but may find mistakes authors note; i knew the second i got this request i had to do it immediately. this is so cute, thank you for requesting.

JJ has devoted his time to leaving love letters in your locker.

Sliding the thin colored paper into the slit with definition. No, they weren't your typical secret admirer notes, JJ made it clearly evident that it was him. Always adamant in writing 'from JJ' in big capital letters, maybe even a small heart by it. Though, he just recently begun to add the heart, debating as to whether or not it was too much. Doesn't matter if it's lunch or a five-minute locker break, he's leaving a damn note in your locker, usually at the end of the day papers are flying to the mucky tiled school floors after opening the pliable metal door to the locker. And still you collect them all from the hopelessly swooning boy.

Some were insanely dumb, catching glance of one that said something along this lines of, 'my lips wanna' touch yours so bad, let's make it happen?'.

One may say that this is quite desperate of JJ.

But, this is the sight he's been fervent for, for years.

He’s sure his fascination started mid freshmen year. He remembers it like yesterday, vividly. There was a group of much older bullies encircling him in the school courtyard. Taunting him for his appearance, as if he were a freak show. His dad had gotten fired from yet another job, failing drug tests, never sober. JJ was sure Luke didn’t even know that the school year had begun. His shoes that year were so busted up, holes in the heal with the soles nearly falling apart; the same shoes he'd worn the past few years. Today, that is why he wears the irreplaceable combat boot, takes a lot to damage a thick black combat boot. His clothes that year, he'd outgrown them in more ways than one making them not up to par with the apparent bullies' standards. Scarring him to the point of no return, especially since you were there. You happened to be the reason he was fleeing that situation, not that JJ couldn't fight his own battles or that he was frightened. But it was that you noticed him. And, that you noticed him enough to not just walk by and act like you didn't see it happening. Oh, and it was that you ran the ignorant bullies away with a pocketknife you had tucked into your ankle length socks. Now that was what truly had JJ alarmed that day, a dainty, captivating girl waving a sharp knife around and looking mighty seductive doing so. What's not to like? You yanked him by the arm that day, and he's felt that pull since.

"Never tell anyone you saw that shit," you'd been referring to the knife and all JJ did was keep his mouth agape, astounded by the clutch your power had on him. He didn't, no one knows about that day except you, him, and the threatened classmates that did the bullying. Not even the Pogues knew.

He's been hooked since then, fastidious at best— enthralled that you existed at the same time as him. And he wasn't going to just not do anything about it.

Being a pest is what you'd known him best for. Proving your point as he'd leaned strikingly so on the lockers next to yours, blue irises tracing the outline of your figure. He can't fathom that you'd get more enchanting with every glance he steals.

The school day is ending, and rewiring of brains are beginning for the weekend. Hundreds of worn out bodies flood through the school doors, and you are trying to be one of them but someone’s mouth keeps moving.

JJ clears his throat before he speaks, about to aim toward the question he’s asked multiple times over the span of three years and each time it’s just as nerve wracking.

“Hi, pretty girl,” his voice chirped, cheery in a way. You became fond of the plentiful pet name, and it drew your attention as it always did.

You haven’t made it obvious to JJ as why you’ve been turning him down repeatedly, constantly sending him off with his head hanging low in defeat. It was ego shattering, he’d admit, it wasn’t something detrimental though. He was committed to persuading you into giving him a chance. Just one, and even if you absolutely despised him after, at least he’d be able to say he got to go on a date with an everlasting presence such as yours.

Your permanent ‘no’s’ have been due to you desiring to keep your independence. Especially with this being senior year, and it coming to a close soon. It’s a known fact that typically everyone goes their separate ways after high school, so where would going on a date fit in that picture? A relationship to you had always been viewed as a parasite interaction, was it actually real? Leading the poor boy on just wasn’t something you could fathom doing— sure, he was more than easy on the eyes, with his sun kissed blonde tresses and his fully plastered tempting smirk … and, that’s not the point … the point is you couldn’t give pieces of yourself away for it to be of no meaning in a month when this is all over.

It would’ve been demeaning.

Astronomically stupid.

His jawline.

Each time he tried the more you fought it, though the way he appears today is just of sheer attraction.

Christ, he's fucking hot.

Thank fuck he's not an inch closer or you swore you might've jumped his bones. You couldn't have given him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Hi JJ."

The way his name leaves off of your tongue he wishes it were possible to frame a voice, engrave it, keep it forever. Yesterday he was almost on the verge of stealing your strawberry flavored chapstick, thinking that if he would've put it on his lips that you would've 'kissed' him. Yeah, he's got it real bad.

"I like those pants, really accentuates what you've got goin' on back there," JJ didn't intend on saying that. He's letting his mouth overload his ass, earning a sheepish gaze from you whilst you dump this week's JJ themed notes into the front compartment of your book bag. Holding contact with your eyes, still makes him feel like today might be the day.

"You like my ass Maybank, should've just said that."

Your voice is monotone, slamming the locker and throwing the bag over your shoulder. You lean mirroring him, engaging in the conversation as of now. Knowing what he's going to ask, as this is an everyday thing. Perhaps, going as friends would be something of consideration, just try it out.

What’s the worst?

Having a extremely stunning boy as a friend?

Just say yes, don’t think twice. Hate yourself for it later— your thoughts consumed you.

He blows air into his cheeks, anxiousness has overcome him tenfold. Hand raking over the tufts of hair at the back his neck, displaying it in obviousness. “Yes I do like your ass, and I have liked that same ass for three years.”

You urge a slight giggle, and he thinks he’s going to melt into nothing on the spot.

“Do something about it then.”

You taunt, aware he’s done everything about it. It’s just quite funny to see the stressed out stare turn into furrowed eyebrows with a slack mouth. Stunned at the sudden aggression, maybe things would be on his side this time. He refuses to question it, thinking he was playing coy alike with you.

“Depends, are you gonna’ break my little heart this time?”

He fakes fainting, whilst grasping at the cotton material of his shirt that covered his heart. Causing a scene as per usual, despite most of the school population gone by now. His brain has turned to mush, the way you’re on your tippy toes for a better look.

“Ask me,” you tilt your head a bit, encouraging him to do so. A smooth movement of your thumb and it’s grazing the skin of his lips, outlining them in perfect harmony. You’d never been this straightforward before, and he can’t fucking get enough of it.

“Let me take you out for dinner tonight, pretty girl. Y’know I’m not givin’ up … so me, you, a Kooky restaurant tonight at seven, yeah? How’s that sound?”

You heart flutters insatiably— you had to hand it to him though, his effort was impeccable and a night with JJ Maybank sounds a bit promising in its own meticulous way.

Let him have it, just this once.

It probably won’t lead to anything, so then looking back on it when the school year is over it will be just another memory, right? You thought, sticking to original reason that nothing out of high school becomes something worthy and then some.

“You’re gonna spend your life savings on one Kook meal?”

“For you, anything.”

Just say yes.

“One date okay?” you shove at his chest playfully, making an b-line toward the large steel doors. Watching you walk away, was sensational he might add. “One date Maybank!”

You reminded again, and still he wants to collapse on the middle of this dirty, shoe printed school floor. He was so giddy, jumping in elation.

“M’goin’ on a date!”

He relishes loudly, echoing through the halls of the school and you shake you head in disbelief as it rings in your ears the second your palm meets with the handle of the exit. JJ’s history teacher is peering around the corner, Mr. Sunn is somewhat proud of the boy he’s taught over his course of high school. Overhearing conversations between him in class, John B, and Pope in class, all they were ever about was you.

“You need to get going JJ,” Mr. Sunn pronounced, as JJ is standing in a now completely empty school. Twirling around on his feet, resembling a child that just got the toy they been begging for.

“She’s goin’ on a date with me Mr. Sunn!”

There’s a jar in JJ’s room at the chateau that’s labeled ‘when she says yes.’ It’s a mason jar, with money stuffed to the brim. Landing his job back at the country club as a waiter months ago, he took twenty dollars out of every check and put it in that sacred jar. And, then he mentally noted that he’d need more than just that if he wanted the night to really be worth while. He needed elegant clothes, and to get the biggest bouquet of roses he could possibly find.

He had plans for the roses— intending on wrapping every last layer in a love confessing sticky note. Because he’d like to think that that’s how this fresh romance is coming to be. He yearned ardently for you to know each and every reason as to why you were the only girl that walked planet earth in his eyes.

He wanted to discover your sweet spots, he craved to know how his lips molded with yours, he desired to know how your small hand would fit in his, and he was ravenously hoping to see your exemplary, pure body pressed against his.

JJ’s fingertips are colliding with an iron and an ironing board. Stood in the middle of John B’s living room, steadily removing every crease from his new, costly shirt— it was simple but effective; an angelic white short sleeve corduroy button up. Not too out of his comfort zone, but different enough for you to be able to tell he tried. Along with black pants that hugged his thighs and let loose around his ankles, and his combat boots— something he couldn’t switch up on.

It’s not JJ if he isn’t wearing those damn boots.

Kie and Pope are grimmacing on the dusty couch, surrounded by opened snacks and different assortments. They tended to pick fun at JJ, for chasing after something that’s wasn’t. But tonight it was.

For, he’s going to have his heavenly vision— that is you, before him and that’s making his body malfunction. To him, it was a privilege, to be breathing the same air as you. You could probably punch him in the gut, and he’d say thank you.

"Do you think she'll like this?" JJ shyly questions, so out of character holding up the freshly ironed shirt that is wrinkle free and now on a hanger. It caught Sarahs eye, who is cuddled into John B's side by the kitchen island. JJ knew it would've been much easier to just take it the dry cleaners, but it simply wasn't in his price range. And he relished in the fact that he earned such clothing, taking every great length to show his everchanging infatuation with you

"I definitely think she will," Sarah sends a reassuring smile his way, and he lowers the shirt to his side, counting down the last few remnants until he has to get ready, following through to pick you up.

"He's so fuckin' pussy-whipped over her, she's ruined him man," John B's sarcastic tone is not going to interrupt JJ's overwhelming exhilaration for tonight.

"Pussy-whipped and proud, she's gonna' be my girl, you'll see."

"You've been saying that for the past three years," Pope chuckles somewhat nudging Kie to laugh at the joke, but it wasn't of humor to her.

"M'taking the twinkie tonight."

With that JJ turns the iron off, shooting all of the Pogues his long middle finger, stepping slyly off into his bedroom, closing the door swiftly behind him. He had previously showered, smelling of saccharine musk but despite that he's having doubts peering into the full-length mirror; unsure of the reflection.

He's pulled away upon hearing the buzzing of his phone; it was you. Even seeing your name in the grey notification bubble sent slight relief to his chest.

Was his hair parted right?

Did he miss a spot shaving?

Was he even worthy of going on a date with you?

Jesus Christ.

He merely hopes to be as presentable as could be, and have you find him simply the slightest bit inviting.

Y/N

I should overdress right, since this is a Kook thing

At least you, weren't backing out at the last second.

JJ

Wear as little as possible :)

Y/N

Don't make me change my mind about this, Maybank.

A miniature film camera is stuffed in JJ's tinted black pants. It's digging into his skin deliciously, taking the pain as he knows the payoff will be wondrous. If he'd be lucky enough to get a picture of you or with you tonight.

Parked in the driveway of your home, from the Cut along with the rest of them. Your home is small and cozy and still JJ admires the way your mother hugs you goodbye, something he hadn't gotten to experience growing up.

However, he gets to experience this tonight.

The Twinkie's cracked windshield wasn't exactly the perfect view, but he is still enamored by the hypnotizing way your lacy dress flows from direct wind. It revealed parts of you he had yet to see, as this wasn't your typical wardrobe; more like a disguise to seem Kook like and fit in at the eatery. He pondered on the idea of you going out and buying it, only to go on a date with him.

Just for him.

The feeling had him scatterbrained.

He really can't comprehend your heaven-sent beauty.

Hair pinned back delicately, still as cutthroat as a double-edged sword. And when the door goes flying open, so does his soul from his body. Hell, he might not even be able to drive to the restaurant he's so fucking weak in the knees.

You must've mistaken JJ for some else, the person before you in the driver's seat is so clean cut. Locks brushed to the side, aligning his part. Chest poking through his button up just a breathtaking view in itself. His bright cheeks are painted an astonishing cherry red, as the pastel shaded sky is just about to set it enhances it even more. His achievement of wanting to look pretty for you has more than worked.

It's cynical to the pair that this agonizingly moderate occasion is here.

Long awaited, and worth every minute,

Just to be here, in this captured moment, together.

Fuck.Fuck.Fuck. This is happening. JJ thought, though similar thoughts are rummaging through your mind right now.

You shrugged him off for three years, witnessing this burning lovelorn grin on his face makes you regret wasting so much time. All that time, this beautiful creature could've been yours. Perhaps the odds in that percentage of people that go there seperate ways after high school won't be you and JJ. And maybe, your own independence was overrated.

You were wrong.

Oh so, mistakenly wrong.

"Bab- shit ... can I call you baby ... if that's okay?"

This differentiating pet name was of utter importance to JJ because it's so needy, and it encompasses all of his likened emotions for you in one little word.

"Course, baby."

JJ's shitting himself internally, he didn't know he needed to hear that leave your mouth until now, and he really wishes for you to say it an infinite amount more. All he can do is bore into your gloss lips, wishing to taste them desperately.

Aching for the sensation.

"You look really pretty tonight ... not just tonight though you look pretty all the time. Which explains why m'fuckin' obsessed with you and you're always on my mind. Swear, you're like ... tattooed in my brain and it's-"

You capture his lips with yours, a notion of telling him to shut the hell up, and just be. He was right, they mold together like they were created to enact a sweltering kiss such as this. It's magical to JJ, that he's lingering against your skin, touching your hair, kissing you long enough that he counted it perfectly in his head. A timely kiss, a tradional one, to leave him wanting more.

And he wants more. He wants so much more.

It's all true, if he's doing something as simple as listening to music, he thought about your opinion. If you disliked it, he'd find a way to. Paying attention to details over the years, he's practiced your hobbies, telling himself that he 'felt closer to you'.

He worshiped the fucking ground you walked on.

"You gonna' take me to dinner or what, Maybank?"

"Dinner's cancelled, I need you now, pretty girl."

Guess the food can wait.

[eiightysixbaby]

as you've probably seen in your notifs, i'm a bit obsessed with your writing 😩 it's so good, i'm utterly obsessed

i was wondering if you could write something where steve is manhandling or rough housing with his gf and it takes a ✨️spicy✨️ turn?? i feel like there aren't enough fics with playful!steve tbh

anyway i'm gonna go back to reading everything you've ever posted now because i'm obsessed 😂

- @hornyhornyhimbos 🖤✨️

hiiiii omg I’m so sorry this request truly got lost in the abyss of my inbox, but I hope you enjoy this regardless. I needed something for reader and steve to be debating about and then… this goofiness was born. 🫶🏻 and thank you for the kind words, it means a lot that you like my writing :’)

18+ only

“There is no fucking way you haven’t seen Grease,” Steve says, sitting up from where he’d been laying on the sofa to look at you properly.

“Never seen it, I swear. I just don’t know if musicals are my thing,” you say, laughing lightly at his dumbfounded expression.

“How did I not know this about you?” he wonders aloud, pressing his palms to his forehead as if he’s deeply stressed.

“If you’d known would you not be dating me right now?” you tease, laughing harder when he rolls his eyes. You know there isn’t a universe where he wouldn’t want to date you, and he knows you know.

“I just can’t believe you’re just going to write it off as ‘oh, musicals aren’t my thing’” he says, his voice pitching higher when he mocks you. “Like, it’s a masterpiece. I’m hurt, babe,” he says, and you’re not quite sure how much of this is real anymore and how much is him teasing.

You only laugh more, shaking your head at his antics. “It can’t be that good. It’s a bunch of grown adults playing high schoolers, running around and singing.”

“Oh, honey, but you haven’t heard Hopelessly Devoted To You. Or Beauty School Dropout… or… or You’re The One That I Want!” he shouts exasperatedly, hands flying all over the place.

“Boooringgggg,” you drawl, really only saying it to get a rise out of him. You’d watch the movie if he asked you to, honestly you’d probably like it, and you both know it.

“Anything but. You haven’t heard Greased Lightning,” he continues, immediately jumping from his spot on the couch. He grabs the television remote, holding it up in front of him.

“Steve, what-”

“I’m about to show you how not boring it is.”

He waggles his eyebrows at you, shaking his hips as he brings the remote to his mouth like a microphone. He dives into a terrible rendition of Greased Lightning, not breaking eye contact with you.

“This car is automatic…” he cries out.

“Babe,” you say, looking at him questioningly.

“It’s systematic…”

“Steven, I swear to god,” you say as he hops up onto the coffee table, socked feet allowing him to slide on the surface.

“It’s hydromatic!”

He’s fully into it now, giving you a complete show as he sings. You’re in a fit of giggles, watching him in awe as he struts around. He’s trying and only somewhat succeeding in mimicking John Travolta’s dance moves, his arm outstretched as he points at you. His hips gyrate, he turns and shakes his ass exaggeratedly as he continues singing. You have to admit he looks damn good in those too-tight jeans.

He takes off his jacket, throwing it out to you as if he’s a real performer. He’s pitched his voice lower while he sings, really trying to sell his impersonation. You snort, rolling your eyes as you start to get up from your seat, attempting to head towards the kitchen to grab a drink.

He stops you, though, jumping down from the table to grab your arm, pulling you into him, chest to chest.

“Steve!” you gasp, palms pressing to his chest as he wraps a strong arm around you. Your heart flutters at the sudden closeness, heat creeping up your neck.

“You’re gonna miss the best part if you walk away now,” he says, trying so hard not to laugh.

“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough,” you tease, trying to break free from his grip.

You think he’s about to let you go when you’re scooped up by his muscular arms, thrown over his shoulder as he discards his ‘microphone’ onto the coffee table. You flail your limbs, struggling to catch your breath between laughs as he sets you down on the large sofa. He positions himself over you, knees digging into the cushion on either side of your stretched legs, caging you in. He pins your wrists above your head, hazel eyes wild as he laughs with you. His strength makes you dizzy, the way he manhandles you with ease sends you reeling.

“Now that I’ve got you right where I want you…” he says maniacally, dramatically. “I’m going to sing every single song from Grease in order of appearance in the film,” he finishes, adding a wicked cackle to the end of his sentence.

“No, no! Please! Please spare me!” you cry, playing right along with his act.

You try to free your wrists as your legs thrash underneath your boyfriend, but Steve’s grip tightens. His free hand grips the flesh of your hip, pinning you harder to the couch. He’s smiling, practically glowing with how much he likes you, but the mood suddenly shifts when you let out a soft, pleased little noise at the way he squeezes your skin. Your hips inadvertently roll a little, seeking him out.

Your arms no longer struggle against his grip, instead simply going limp beneath the expanse of his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, lips parting slightly as you really take in all of Steve. His cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink from exertion, his hair slightly out of place from all of his dancing. He’s beautiful, so gorgeous, and right now he’s looking at you like you’re his favorite sight in the world. Really, it’s because you are.

“Steve…” you breathe out, chest rising and falling as you catch your breath from your previous heavy fits of laughter.

He closes the distance between the two of you, pressing his lips to yours so softly yet so passionately. It says a million things, it expresses all of his adoration for you. Your tongue swipes gently into his mouth, tasting him just a little. His tongue meets yours then, sending chills through your body.

He pulls away eventually, looking at you like he’s lovestruck.

“You’re such a dork, Steve Harrington,” you murmur, but really it says ‘I love you’, ‘thank you for sharing your interests with me’, ‘you’re my favorite person’. And he knows.

“And you’re the girl that’s dating me,” he replies, smiling cutely down at you.

You tug the collar of his shirt, bringing him back down to your lips. Teeth and tongues clash once more as his hips roll into yours, making you whimper. He pushes the fabric of your skirt up your leg, higher higher higher until the pad of his thumb is teasing your cotton panties. Your wrists are freed from his grip, his hand pressing into the cushion to hold himself up. His thumb swipes over your needy core, teasing, but he’s met with a pool of warm wetness that sticks to his fingers. You flush as he gasps into your kiss, knowing he’s figured you out. He pulls his lips from yours and you pout, wiggling your hips slightly beneath him.

“What, honey? Did my imitation of Danny Zuko really do it for ya? Got you that wet?” he teases, smirking so adorably at you you want to smack him.

“Oh fuck off, I can’t stand you,” you reply. “But maybe.”

“Hey, you know what they say. ‘The chicks’ll cream for greased lightnin’” he quotes.

It earns him a well deserved eye-roll, but he makes up for all of his antics with how well he devours you afterwards.