#gesturing hopelessly. i love him

[ardenigh]

he’s always tongue-tied, ain’t he

[sovonight]

books & flowers

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Sacrifical Bride.

Commissioned by the very lovely @yanmaresu.

Pairing: Yandere!Hades x Reader (Record of Ragnarök).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Forced Marriage, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Emotional Manipulation, Rough Sex, Unprotected Sex, and Mentions of Kidnapping/Prolonged Captivity. Not Canon Complacent. I Have Never Met Canon But I Hear She's Very Nice.

The wedding was a solemn affair.

Not dull, because nothing that had your heart beating so violently could ever be considered ‘dull’, and not dreary, because despite the many, many things you could say about your kidnapper-turned-husband, he wasn’t one for bland affairs. No, your dress was of the finest and most vibrant silks, your veil lined with pearls and rubies and the gown’s train long enough to swell and ebb behind you as you walked down the seemingly never-ending aisle, unaccompanied by any escort. Wreaths of shining ivory lilies and blooming chrysanthemums encircled marble pillars, low-burning lanterns casting the chapel in long, wavering shadows. The pews were empty. The only guests were his ghastly servants, and they’d never once said a word to you.

There was no officiant. Hades waited for you at the brimstone altar alone, a gentle simper playing over his lips as he watched you drag your feet and fight the urge to bolt, to run, to do the very thing that’d left you trapped in his arm in the first place. It was tempting, albeit pointless. You’d always been swift footed, but there was nowhere to escape to in Helheim. At best, you’d spend a few days hiding and struggling to survive in the empty plains that surrounded his looming fortress of a home. At worst, you’d find yourself without direction and beyond the reach of his control, hopelessly lost and stumbling through fields of fading dead and gnarled beasts and things that would make the man in front of you look hospitable, in comparison. You tried to remind yourself of that as your body begged you to flee.

As you reached the altar, his smile grew into something that could’ve been convincingly genuine, had it been able to reach the pits of lifeless ice that were his eyes. Rather, the gesture only seemed to add to the coil of dread growing tighter in the pit of your stomach as you stepped beside him, clutching your bouquet to your chest in a white-knuckled grip. He’d let you pick that out yourself, at least, and you’d taken a truly irrational amount of joy in picking wildflowers and trimming roses and breaking every rule of decorum your mother had ever taught you. Now, though, the shadows of his hall seemed to dull your vision-searing colors, and it was difficult to take joy in such a simple pleasure knowing the man in front of you sought to ensure you’d never braid daisies or sleep beneath open skies again, when he was staring you down like yet another precious gem he planned to add to his ever-growing collection. It was a cruel comparison, but not quite as hyperbolic as you would’ve liked.

There was a shallow sigh, a hand brought to the edge of your veil. He toyed with the fabric for a long moment before taking the hem in both hands and pulling it away from your face. If he recognized the terror stitched into your expression, he only deemed it worth a slight shake of his head. “Oh, beloved.” His hand fell to your cheek. “You’re as radiant as the day we met.”

The day he plucked you from your mortal life and dragged you into the depths of the earth, the day he’d forced the awful seeds of that terrible fruit down your throat and promised you would never see another living soul again. You swallowed back your nerves. “Please, don’t draw this out.”

You were lucky you’d fallen into the hands of such a mild-tempered captor. He let out an airy chuckle, turning back to the altar. It was decorated sparsely; an overflowing cornucopia posed in one corner, a standing thurible slowly releasing nauseatingly sweet incense into the stagnant air sitting in the other. Between them was only a bottle of dark wine and two twin chalices, crafted of only the finest bronze and polished until they shined in the low lighting. He filled both to the brim before looking towards you, a glint in his remaining eye as he took a chalice in either hand.

You’d been wrong when you assumed they were identical. Where one had a line of aimless, curling thorns following the rim and plunging down the length of the handle, the other was embellished with roses, abstract and nearly shapeless, forming neat columns across the body of the cup. He extended the latter to you, its contents threatening to spill as you took it in your trembling hands. You’d managed to talk him out of the more elaborate ceremonies he’d suggested, but it was difficult to remember that this was a preferable alternative now that could feel the chill of his wine seeping into your palms.

You brought it to your lips, held it there for a moment, then pulled back at the hint of a more familiar scent than that of his dizzying incense. “Pomegranates?”

“I thought it would be a nice touch.” For him, maybe. He’d always struggled to see things from your perspective. “Forgive my sentimentality.”

You wouldn’t, but you were smart enough to keep that to yourself. When he raised his chalice, you did the same, mirroring him when your own will failed you. “To us, darling.”

You nodded. “To us.”

He took a long sip from his chalice, seeming to savor the rich wine, while you drained yours in a single breath. Try as you might to enjoy it, you could only seem to taste ash.

~

A few vows were exchanged, a kiss pressed into the back of your hand when you flinched away from his attempt to communicate his affection more directly. Finally, he took your arm and guided you back to your shared chambers, lingering in the doorway while you collapsed onto his bed – your marital bed, now, you supposed. You buried your face in the silken sheets, letting out a soft groan. There would be a celebration later on, a feast with all of his many gloating brothers and prying sisters in attendance, but the worst of it was over. You were bound to him, for better or for worse. All you could do was weather the consequences.

You’d hoped he would be kind enough to leave you alone while you consoled yourself, while you took all that you knew and all that you didn’t and recontextualized it with yourself as the mortal bride to the God of Death, but a hand on your shoulder dispelled that fleeting fantasy. With no small amount of reluctance, you pushed yourself upward and turned your attention back to Hades. This time, without the pretense of custom, he didn’t settle for your hand. His mouth found its way to the dip of your shoulder, then the crook of your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as he pressed wet, open-mouthed kisses into his chosen targets.

When he started to move towards the curve of your throat, you moved on instinct – your hands finding their way to his hair as you dragged him away from you before he could do anything you wouldn’t be able to forget as soon as he left the room. “Please,” you said, not for the first time that day. “I… I’d rather be alone, right now. If it’s all the same to you.”

His smile didn’t waver. “You know that, if it were up to me, I would bend to your every whim,” he spaced the words out generously, as if worried your feeble human mind might not be able to understand. “But we aren’t done.”

Your expression fell. “I’ve done everything you’ve asked of me. I wore the dress, and—and I took your vows, and—”

“My love,” he cut you off swiftly, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek. “Our union will have to be consummated, eventually.”

You felt your throat begin to swell shut.

“I know that, but—” You laid your hand over his, trying to call upon whatever pale imitation of sympathy might’ve existed in his heart. “—does it have to be consummated now?”

You watched as his gaze softened, as his head lulled to the side in that endeared-yet-condescending manner he seemed so fond of. Slowly, with a painstaking gentleness, he brought you closer to him, ghosting over the top of your head and lingering there, even as he started to speak. “I think,” he started, his voice muffled by proximity. “that it would be in your best interest not to keep me waiting any longer.”

It wasn’t a threat, but it was posed like one, dredged up from somewhere deep in his chest and accompanied by his hand on your waist, nimble fingers slipping underneath the sash binding your gown together. When you jerked back, reflexively trying to escape his advances, he was quick to chase you, to let his softened smile spread into an amused grin as an arm wrapped around your midriff and dragged you, willingly or otherwise, into his lap. “I don’t want to hurt you.” And yet, your safety didn’t seem to cross his mind as his blunt nails bit into your waist, as he dragged you close enough to feel his chest press into yours, to become uncomfortably aware of the stiff outline against the loose fabric of his pants. “If I rely on my own self-restraint for another day—” Another kiss, this one to the tender patch of skin above your jugular vein. “I’m afraid I might end up doing something we both regret, when the time comes.”

“Less than a day,” you pleaded as he buried his face in your neck. There was a blur of movement, the ghost of his touch along the curve of your spine, and your bodice fell away in tatters, the ruined fabric collapsing to your waist. When you moved to cover yourself, Hades clicked his tongue and you froze, letting your arms fall back to your sides. Begging him to change his mind was one thing. Going against him so transparently would only make things more difficult. “Half a day. An hour. I just— Hades, I can’t do this right now—”

“My love.” Swift, blunt, merciless. You’d been a fool to ever think he was one of the kinder gods. “I think I’ve waited long enough to claim what belongs to me.”

Any protest you might’ve had died in your throat.

You’d been a fool to ever think he was anything less than the cruelest of his kin.

You wanted to scream. If you couldn’t run, then you would yell, raise your voice and tell him that he already had you, that he’d gotten everything he could’ve possibly wanted, but anything you might’ve said was torn away and ripped to shreds as his head dipped low, his teeth latching onto the vulnerable skin of you collar bone and sinking in. He didn’t draw blood, but he didn’t have to. A bolt of pure, stinging agony shot from your chest to your core, only dulling as he pulled away with a low groan. “Have I ever told you how much I adore the sound of my name on your tongue?” You felt his hand on your hip, then your thigh, the remains of your dress cut through and disposed of with little fanfare. He gave your bridal lingerie (pure white and so obnoxiously lacy, you’d had to wonder if this was all some sadistic joke as you slipped it on) more attention, his thumb running along the delicate trim before his fingers slipped underneath it, tracing the length of your slit before doing away with the barrier altogether.

Dread and panic dulled your reactions, but it would’ve been a lie to say the feeling of his mouth on your skin had left you completely unaffected. He chuckled as he gathered your slick on his fingertips, two of which were soon pressed into your clit with a brutal sort of precision. “And you tried to play coy.” He teased the sensitive bundle of nerves mercilessly, the patterns he traced into your clit too slow and too fleeting all at once. You wished he wouldn’t touch you at all, but if he was going to, it was the least he could’ve done not to draw it out. “That must’ve been why you seemed so rushed during our ceremony. If you’d asked me to make love to you on that altar, I happily would have.”

Hot, humiliated tears welled up in the corners of your eyes. You attempted to deny it, but a cracked moan slipped past your lips instead as two of his fingers were forced into your cunt and spread, splitting you apart. Your hands shot to his shoulders, trying to stabilize yourself, but he only saw your desperation as an invitation – bowing his head and pumping his fingers into you at the kind of languid pace that left you fighting not to rock against him, not to make up for the urgency immortal creatures so often lacked. “You’re a vice,” he muttered, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear, his tone low and lecherous. You wondered, briefly, if words that fell from the lips of a god could be considered sinful. “To think my own wife would’ve had me neglect her so severely for so long.”

You shook your head. You were married to him, sure, bound to him. But you couldn’t afford to think of yourself as his wife. You couldn’t afford to think of yourself as something so limited, something so purely an extension of him. “I’m not—”

“Don’t try to spare my feelings. I can see that I underestimated just how much attention my little mortal would need.” His wrist quirked, another digit pushing past your entrance and stuffing your pussy full as his fingers curled and ground inside of you. Against your will, you felt a tight heat begin to twist and writhe in the pit of your stomach, pangs of burning pleasure coursing from your cunt to your core. Now, you cried unabashedly, embarrassment and shame burning in your cheeks and fueling the unsteady stream of tears that Hades was so agonizingly quick to coo over, to kiss away as your hips bucked unsteadily against his hand. “What a sensitive wife I have.” That word – that awful word – was enough to earn a ragged sob, but if he recognized the connection, he didn’t deem it worth his concern. “I promise, you’ll never feel so unloved in my care again.”

You would’ve given anything to be able to pull away from him, to be able to shove at his chest and swear to all the gods you’d once worshiped that there was no part of you that could ever feel loved with him, but in the end, he was the one to let you go, to throw you onto the center of his great bed and leave you whining involuntarily at the sudden loss of stimulation. He’d never been one to deprive you, though; in a moment, he was in between your open legs, one hand wrapped loosely around your thigh while the other pulled feverishly at his own clothes. His coat fell away first, then his shirt. You heard fabric shift and metal clink and, in a daze, saw him wrap his fist around something he could not have possibly planned to fit inside of you. Half out of terror and half out of instinct, your gaze flickered from his cock to his face – to the wide, fanged grin he’d been wearing for as long as you could remember.

He moved to kiss you, and you drove your heel into his stomach.

The blow would’ve been weak by human standards, but it caught him off-guard. Out of reflex, he reeled back, and you took the opportunity to scramble off his bed and towards the door, to any part of this forsaken place where Hades wasn’t. You made it a step, maybe two before something caught your shoulder, before your body buckled under a weight greater than your own. You were dragged onto your knees before you could so much as think to slip away from him, your cheek forced against the cool marble of the floor before you could hope to make your descent more dignified. You felt his broad chest press into your back, his snarling lips against the curve of your throat. You wondered if the insult would be great enough to warrant taking your life, but the thought was dismissed quickly.

Hades had never been the kind of god capable of showing such mercy.

“I would’ve made love to you like a queen,” he spat, his tone all manic venom and overdue obsession. “But, if you’d rather be fucked on the ground like a whore, I’m more than happy to oblige.”

You weren’t allowed the luxury of bracing yourself, this time. In one brutal movement, he thrust into you, splitting you open on his cock with the kind of harsh, unforgiving force better suited to a wild animal.  There was no time to adjust, no time to sob, only Hades groaning against your neck as he bucked against you, never daring to pull out completely. Whatever agony his fingers had sparked was now ten-fold. Your legs shook, your body threatening to collapse entirely, but Hades kept your ass raised and your thighs spread, his focus entirely on bucking into you as deeply and as roughly as he could.

It almost surprised you when one of his hands shot to your head, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair as he forced his mouth against yours. You tried not to cooperate, but two fingers pressed into your clit and your mouth fell open in a guttural cry, providing an opening he seemed content to take advantage of. It was a deep, lingering, messything – all tongue and teeth – but his cock ground against something soft and vulnerable and you failed to suppress the wave of pure heat that flooded through your battered body as you clenched around him, as you came undone around the cock of your kidnapper, your captor, your husband. Hades wasn’t far behind, his composure shattering no more than a second after the walls of your cunt clenched down around him. You could only choke on your misery-tinged pleasure as his hips pressed into your ass and he came inside of you – his awful warmth soon tainting every fiber of your being.

You tried to tell yourself that, at the very least, it was over - that he’d had his fill of you and now, you’d be free to console yourself elsewhere, but your hopes were once again dashed when Hades failed to release you, failed to pull out of you, failed to do anything but press himself into your back and trail his lips idly down to the nape of your neck. “Once is a pitiful amount for a king. Don’t you agree?”

You felt his hips move back, then rock against you just as quickly.

“You can forgive me when we’re done, love.”

[velvetti]

Summary: How you met your sugar daddy :3

Warnings: Drunk sex ; degradation ; blowjob ; fingering ; creampie ; slut shaming ; obsession(?) ; male x male relationship.

In this relationship, he's the only one losing.

He's hopelessly in love with you, and you know it. For your happiness, he's willing to give everything to you. If it has to be expensive tours, designer outfits, buildings just for your pets to live in, then so be it.

He loved how you hugged him arm as he took you shopping, how you would give him a kiss whenever you're pleased, your small little gestures, everything.

How did he meet you? Well, it was simple. You met him while drinking at the bar, inhaling a couple of cocktails after a long day of work. You let yourself relieve some stress by drinking as much alcohol as you wanted and ramble about random topics with him. The conversation took a dramatic twist when you joked about him being your type and being willing to sleep with him for a price, and he gave you exactly that.

In a blink of an eye, he was fucking you deep into the mattress of the love hotel. To say this was mindless fucking was wrong, but this was nowhere gentle on your asshole. He bit down on your bite-marks-filled shoulder, and kissed your hickey-filled neck. His fingers twist your nipple, watching you whine like a woman having her boobs toyed with.

His mouth came to intertwine with yours, his tongue invaded your mouth and groaned into your throat, his hands moved to grip tightly onto your lips as he increased his speed, making sure to slap his hip against your ass as fast as possible.

With a smug smirk, he pulled away and moved back slightly to watch you lose your mind while he continued to fuck your ass nice and deep.

"Fuck... Is this your attempt to make me pay more, slut? With this cute little hole sucking me in, I think I won't be able to leave."

To be honest, the one that wouldn't be able to leave would be you. Being fucked by a man was so much better than you thought, the way his dick brushed against your abused prostate with each thrust was making you sob with pleasure. You don't mind being a slut if it feels this good being fucked by him.

His movement became sloppy the closer he was, his hands gripped your inner thighs for better access as he huffed out.

"In, or out?"

Your voice was already sore from the amount of moaning you've done, so you just nodded while sobbing and whimpering to the movement. The moment you gave him permission, he emptied himself deep inside your hole, his movement stopping entirely.

While both of you were regaining your breath and you sobering up, he pulled out and sat down next to you, his hand stroking your head while his other hand lit a cigarette, making sure to breathe it away from you.

His peace was disturbed when he pulled up the blanket to catch you toying with his soft dick. You simply lazily sucked him off, despite him groaning about already emptying his balls. You know that was a lie though, you can still taste the saltiness of his cum and some pre falling onto your tongue.

Seeing that he wasn't able to stop you, he just sighed and decided to help you out too. His fingers make their way over your arched back and insert a finger inside your ass, then two fingers and start pumping them in and out lazily.

He chuckled when you whined about him to slow his fingers down, instead, he just fastened the speed up out of spite, teasing your prostate any chance he gets even when you've already come.

His hips bucking slightly into your throat, ignoring the fact that you almost gagged from the sudden movement and closed his eyes to focus on the pleasure of your warm mouth. It didn't take him long to cum due to his dick still being fairly sensitive after the previous session, you savoured the salty taste of it in your throat and swallowed everything, even opening your mouth to show it to him.

He pulled you up to sit on his lap and face him, and buried his face into your crook while his hand patted your back affectionately. With a satisfied smirk, he whispered.

"Is this a bad time to ask for a date?"

To be continued (?)

A/N: I'm back and not better than ever! Just finished my mid-terms, so I'm back to pumping out fics for y'all gays again :3

[reidmotif]

Behind Closed Doors

Summary: Reader and Spencer are known to be a "tame" couple at work. They get fed up and decide to change how people see them.

Request: Reader and Spencer (in an established public relationship) where they don't do any PDA and you can hardly tell they're a couple. Reader and Spencer get offended, and decide to fool around to get caught.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: Reader POV, established relationship, semi-rough sex, dirty talk, heavy making-out, unprotected sex, semi-public sex

Word Count: 4.8k

Dating Spencer Reid, in a word, could honestly be described as a dream. 

When I’d started a career at the BAU, the last thing on my mind was dating, let alone dating my coworker, but Spencer Reid had subtly woven himself into the corners of my heart with his idiosyncrasies and musings, all without my awareness- and when he'd asked me out? Saying ‘yes’ was the easiest thing I’d ever done my entire life. 

He was ridiculously old-fashioned, and I loved it. He insisted on dinner dates and opening doors for me at any possible opportunity, and I was happy to let it happen. He was a gentleman at every turn, and made me feel special in ways no one had before. If I wasn’t already hopelessly infatuated with the man prior to our relationship, I certainly was now.

A year of dating, a year of loving Spencer Reid, and I honestly couldn’t see my life without him. We’d grown our lives around each other in little ways at first, and it resulted in us being tangled up in the sweetest way imaginable. 

And while my memory isn’t as capable as my boyfriend’s, I can recall in perfect clarity about how fucking good he is in bed. It shouldn’t have surprised me like it had the first time we had sex, but when he had me pinned down to his mattress, pounding into me unlike anyone before him, touching me whilst whispering dirty nothings in my ear, I knew I was a goner. It was simply another facet of Spencer Reid that further cemented my enduring captivation to the man. 

Of course, there were rules when it came to our relationship, considering that even for a blissfully happy couple, we still worked together. Spencer loved having his hands on me, whether it was innocent or not, but when it came to the BAU and public displays of affection, there was a mutual understanding between the two of us that some things were simply kept private. 

Which is why as we stood in the bullpen, side-by-side, we exchanged horrified looks when the surprise seminar that morning was about “inappropriate workplace relationships”. To our knowledge, we’d always kept the romance to a minimum in the office, stealing a kiss here and there when no one was around, or a squeeze of the hand, but nothing beyond that. However, as the moderator for the training began, we both sighed a breath of collective relief as she brought up some suspiciously specific scenarios, realizing today’s seminar was not in fact about us, but rather our coworkers, known for their raunchy telephone escapades, two of our coworkers who were most definitely not in a relationship. 

As we trickled out of the room, exchanging giggles about the very awkward display we were made to watch just now, a very mortified Penelope Garcia approached us.

“Who blabbed?” She asked, adorably frantic as Spencer and I simply smiled and shrugged. 

“Wasn’t us.” Spencer said, a bit and gesturing to me and him. He put his hand on my shoulder and I instantly felt relaxed with the comforting weight of him on me. I gave my own chuckle, naturally bringing my hand up to touch Spencer’s as I responded to Penelope. 

“I mean, you and Derek aren’t exactly quiet about what you do over the phone.” I said, a little mischievously. “I mean remember when Strauss picked up and-”  I started, only to be met with Penelope placing a distressed finger over my lips, hurrying to silence me before I finished my sentence. 

“Shh! I thought we promised to never speak of that godforsaken incident ever again!” Penelope whisper-shrieked, only to be met with my grin. 

“My bad.” I say, while trying to soothe Penelope. I then got a little serious, moving from Spencer’s subtle touch to get closer to her.  “It’s not that bad, Pen. I’m sure everyone will forget in due time.” I said, in my most assuring tone. Unfortunately, Penelope didn’t seem very swayed. 

Derek walked to where we were standing and chatting,  coming to protectively wrap his arm around a very miserable looking Penelope. 

“Did I just hear you say ‘it isn’t that bad’?” Derek said, using air quotes for his imitation of me, laughing as he pulled Penelope closer to him. He continued, “Because from where I was, you and boy genius looked pretty worried for a second.” 

Spencer answered a little defensively, “I mean, obviously.” He replied. “We’re the only ones in the BAU in a public relationship and it’s a surprise seminar on inappropriate relationships, why wouldn’t we think it’s about us?” He explained, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head a little. 

“Because you two don’t even look like a couple!” Penelope said, still sorrowful from her unexpected callout. “Of course it’d never be about you two!” 

“What?” I say, now matching Spencer’s defensive tone from before. “It totally could be about us! And we do look like a couple.” I say, crossing my arms and standing beside him now. 

“Sorry pretty girl.” Derek speaks up, “But Penelope is right. I don’t even think I’ve seen the two of you hold hands or kiss around any of us.” 

Spencer sputtered a little at that, “Obviously! We’re at the workplace!” He says, in a higher pitched tone, fortifying his stance against Derek’s allegations. "It's common to not show PDA in professional settings."

“True love waits for nothing, Einstein.” Derek teases, and then he laughs again. “Pipe down, Reid. I’m only joking.” Spencer seemed  to retract his opposing stance reluctantly, but then Derek added, “You and (Y/N) shouldn’t worry about being appropriate in the workplace, you know? You’re both more than proper when you're in or out of here.” He said, winking, speaking with a knowing tone. 

Spencer groaned at that, but before he could retort and deny Derek’s assessment of our relationship, Derek whisked Penelope away, presumably to console her further over today’s events, leaving me and Spencer just standing there. He looked a little on edge, and I placed a hand over his shoulder, squeezing it softly. I could instantly sense the words, on some level, had gotten to him, and wanted to nip his self-doubt and nervous spiral in the bud before it could even begin. 

“You know he was just joking, right?” I say, speaking gently. 

“I know.” Spencer responded, a little bitterly. “I just.” He stopped, taking a breath before continuing. “I just hate that’s how they see us, you know?” He says, frowning. 

“Well, trust me, Spence.” I say, in an attempt to cheer him up. “This relationship has been anything but proper from the moment we’ve been together.” I say this with a small smirk, hoping he’d catch onto the scandalous undertones of my words, which he did. 

He smiled a little, before murmuring, “Thanks.” I smiled back, and let my hand drop from his shoulder again. 

“C’mon, we got a case.” I say, and he dutifully followed me into the round-table room, the previous interaction with Derek seemingly wiped away from his mind for the rest of the day. 

It wasn’t until a few days later, in the comfort of Spencer’s apartment, (which was honestly ours, at this point) where he spoke up about the incident again. He was lazily playing with my hair as I was sprawled on his couch, my eyes closed with my head in his lap, a documentary of Spencer’s choosing playing in the background. Truthfully, I was more focused on his fingers lightly trailing over my scalp, the sensation lulling me into a state of deep relaxation and serenity, rather than the droning voice of the narrator, until his voice broke my thoughts. 

“I just don’t know why Derek would say that.” He remarked, out of nowhere. 

“Say what, baby?” I say, opening my eyes slightly. I tried to remember if we’d mentioned Derek at all tonight, and when my memory came up short, I squinted, trying to think, “What are we talking about, again?” I attempted to actually look at him from my lower angle, reading his expression for any clues. 

“You know.” He says, continuing to play with the silky strands of my loose hair, “The thing about us being a boring couple.” 

Memories of the interaction came to mind, and I nodded and let out a noise of realization. “Ah, yeah. From the sexual harassment seminar.” I closed my eyes again, and laid back in his lap. “What about it, love?” 

“It didn’t bother you?” Spencer commented, and I opened my eyes yet again, to see the face of a man who clearly hadn’t brushed off the comment like I thought he had, days ago. 

“I mean, not really, baby.” I say, carefully, trying to not offend him. “But it’s okay if you felt bothered- but I really do think Derek didn’t mean anything by it.” I say, moving out of his lap so I could better see his face. 

“Yeah, I guess.” He says, quirking his mouth to the side.  “I just hate that they think we’re boring or-” 

“Even though we both know we definitely aren’t?” I say, laughing a bit. 

“Exactly.” He responds, with a little bit of a smile. “I just wish we could somehow, I don’t know. Stick it to them? Does that sound petty?” He says, chuckling now, and rubbing the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. 

“Not at all.” I say, quickly. “But it’s not like we can just, you know, start sucking face in the bullpen.” I joke, with a giggle. 

“That we cannot.” He replies, his mood seemingly a little more uplifted from when we began our conversation. “Still.” He says, pursing his lips. 

An idea came to my mind, and I grinned a little at the thought of it. I wanted to make my boyfriend feel better, to let him know at the very least nothing about him bored me in the slightest. 

“Spence.. what if we did anyway?” I say, coming closer to him with an excited lilt in my words. 

“Make out in front of all of our colleagues?” Spencer replies, with a chuckle. “(Y/N), I love you, but no way.”  He says, immediately shutting me down, but I shook my head. 

“No, like more than that.” I respond, quickly, as the gears in my head begin to turn. “What if we like.. pretend to have sex in a closet, let them think they know what’s going on in there, and walk out, totally unscathed.” I continue, a playful glint in my eyes.

It sounded absolutely crazy, but I could tell he was definitely considering it, especially susceptible to an idea like this one after what had happened a few days ago. 

“But we wouldn’t actually be having sex- right?” Spencer says, cautiously. “Just… pretending?” He adds, adorably, biting his lip. 

“Yeah.” I respond, instantly, soothing his worries. “Trust me, having sex in a closet in a federal building seems like a pretty solid fantasy, but I’m okay with leaving that to our imaginations for now.” I say, smiling a little wildly. “So is that you agreeing to it?” I question, looking at him eagerly. 

“I guess it is.” He says, the look on his face now matching the enthusiasm on my own, and he leaned over to plant a soft kiss on my lips. I immediately melted into him, moving to straddle his lap, smiling into each press of his lips against mine. His hands went to my hips, a broken moan escaping him as I felt myself move against a fast-forming bulge underneath me. He breathlessly pulled back, licking his lips. 

“Mm." He said, breathing a little heavier now. "What would you say to a practice round for our pretend session tomorrow- you know, just to get it right?” He murmurs, feeling his cocky grin against my lips. 

“Do you even have to ask?” I retort, smirking. 

My words barely left my mouth before he flipped me onto the couch, leaving me giggling delightfully and sighing with pleasure, as I felt him start a trail of wet, hot kisses down my neck, eliciting soft moans and whimpers that only spurred him on to do more to me. 

I closed my eyes with a dazed grin on my face as he continued his actions, knowing he’d take care of me tonight.  Spencer Reid, without a doubt,  was definitely the best boyfriend I’d ever had. 

That morning in his apartment, Spencer was all smiles, even more touchy than he was normally if that was possible. He languidly wrapped his arms around my waist as I brushed my teeth, placing little kisses on the back of my neck as I tried not to laugh with toothpaste in my mouth.  

“Someone’s happy today.” I spoke, or at least attempted to speak, whilst he  attacked any exposed skin of mine with his soft lips. 

“Mm.” He grumbled deeply behind me, never once letting up on the task he’d delegated to himself: to somehow kiss every inch of my body before we even left the apartment.

“Maybe I’m excited about what we’ll be doing today.” He replies, clearly very satisfied with what we’d decided the previous night. 

There was a closet in Quantico, just off the hallways. It wasn’t an active hallway bustling with people, but oftentimes agents would come and go through there, and we both decided it provided just enough privacy so that people wouldn’t actually try to come into the closet- but open enough that at least one or two people were bound to hear us, and hopefully ease any concerns anyone had about Spencer and I being a “proper” couple. 

I giggled. “You know Spence.” I move away a little to spit my toothpaste out and rinse my mouth. “You’re a bit more of an exhibitionist than I pegged you for.” I said, a giggle in my voice. 

He wrapped me up in his arms, bringing me as close as he possibly could. “Sure I am.” He mumbled in a sarcastic tone, kissing the top of my head. 

I smile, speaking into his chest, trying to hold back my laughter.  “I don’t hear you denying it.”

“Shhh.” He said, before letting me go with a smile on his face. “We’re not even actually having sex in the closet. It doesn’t count.” He called out, biting his lip with a boyish smile, the type that made me want to jump his bones here and now.

“Whatever you say!” I respond, with a sing-song voice, flashing him a grin before going to get changed for work. 

Throughout the day, I could see Spencer just itching to carry out our plan. He kept making those eyes at me and I’d shake my head, silently communicating that now wasn’t the time. I could see him grumble and lean back in his desk chair, barely able to focus on his work. I giggled at the thought. My genius boyfriend, unable to do simple tasks because the idea of faking sex to get back at our coworkers rendered him stupid. 

As Emily would say, “An IQ of 187 slashed to 60.” 

Finally, after lunch, and less eyes were on either of us, I subtly caught his gaze, tilting my head in the general direction of the closet, and he nearly leapt from his seat. I silently thanked the Gods above that he didn’t draw anyone’s attention, what with how eager he was acting, as we quietly made our way towards the closet. As soon as we were out of the bullpen, and the long, empty hallways of the BAU, he laughed as he unexpectedly stole a long, passionate kiss from me, his lips pressing against mine insistently. I pulled away after a few seconds, thrilled. 

“What was that for?” I ask, with a dazed grin on my face as he continues to walk me to the place of our imminent rendezvous, nearly dragging me there by a firm grip of his hand in mine. 

“I can’t kiss my girlfriend?” Spencer retorts, smugly. 

“Oh, you can kiss her.” I responded eagerly. “I am not complaining whatsoever. Just curious." I said, squeezing his hand lovingly.

He quickly pressed his lips against mine one more, so quickly I wasn’t sure if I’d imagined it. "I'm just excited, I think." He responded. There was a puerile smile on his face, as he led me further and further away from any of our colleagues and towards our final destination. 

As he opened the closet door, he shot me one final look.

“You’re actually okay with this, right?” He asks, surprisingly soft, a stark contrast to his previously excited nature. 

“Second thoughts?” I respond, raising an eyebrow.

“No, no.” He said, laughing. “I just want to be certain that you’re good with this.” He implores, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles absentmindedly. He gave a sigh, biting his lip.  “I know you’re doing this for me and I-” 

I immediately silence him through interruption. “Spencer. I want to do this.” I said, softly. “Please.” I add, conveying that while, yes, this was for him in some roundabout way, pretending like I wasn’t absolutely exhilarated at what we were about to do would be a gross misrepresentation of the situation. 

He seemed to relax at that, grinning a little bit. He let out a little breath of air. 

“Come on.” I urged. “Don’t you wanna make sure the team never calls us dull again?” I said, smirking and egging him on the best I could. 

He nearly shoved me into the closet as he opened the door, with a laugh. “Okay. Let’s do this.”

He placed me in front of him, and we stood face to face in the cramped space. I could feel his breath on me, hear the beat of his heart and I knew that there was no part of me that was hesitant about this. On the other hand, Spencer seemed a bit.. confused. His smile faded, before he knit his eyebrows together. I watched him bite his lip, before pressing them together in a straight line. 

“How do you fake sex in a closet?” He paused. “Do we just.. moan?” He said, tentatively, looking to me for direction.

I decided to just go for it, giving an almost pornographic moan. “Oh, yeah! Right there, oh!-” 

He quickly clamped a hand over my mouth. “(Y/N), what the-” 

I removed his hand with a giggle. “Come on." I urged. "Be loud, it’s what’ll work.” I say, grinning, before letting out a higher pitched moan, attempting to recreate what I normally sounded like during sex. “Yes, Spencer! Please! Please!” I moaned, closing my eyes and really getting into what we were attempting to recreate. 

I could feel Spencer watching me, and heard him breathe before moaning out himself. “Yeah, you like that, you whore?” He groaned out, a little flatly, but groaned out convincingly, nonetheless and I could tell he was enjoying himself. 

“Yes! Yes!” I nearly screamed out. “Fuck, you feel so good.” I moaned, in an exaggerated manner. “More, please!” I said, trying to beg just as much as I did when Spencer was actually fucking me. 

We continued this back and forth for a minute or two, and I grinned internally. Anyone who happened to walk past the closet would’ve definitely heard our faked passion, and to be honest, I was into it. Having people know how well Spencer treated me, it made my heart jump, and I could feel myself clenching around nothing at the thought. My eyes were shut, as to immerse myself in the fantasy more, and my moans only got louder, pitchier, more desperate with every passing second. 

It wasn’t a few moments later that I realized that I was the only one making noise, Spencer going quiet, and I noticed the absence of his soft breathing that was there previously. I opened my eyes, to find an incredibly wide-eyed, embarrassed Spencer, looking right at me. 

“Shit, I’m sorry (Y/N).” He said, awkwardly shuffling. “I didn’t think- it’s just- your moans sound so good and-” 

I knit my brows in confusion at his words before my eyes trailed down, revealing the strained fabric of his slacks, his cock tenting inside them at an alarming rate. His eyes met mine as I scanned them back up to look at him, and he stifled a groan. “Fuck.” He murmured. 

“Look, you can just leave.” He said, a little defeated. “It’s fine. I’ll figure it out. I can't go out like this." He said this while already moving away from the door, motioning for me to leave. 

My lips parted as I shook my head. “No.” I whispered, stepping even closer. “Fuck me. Let me help you." I murmur, placing both my hands on his shoulders and rubbing them soothingly, before starting to kiss his neck sweetly, with feather-light touches.  

Spencer rolled his eyes. “(Y/N). Don’t tease me right now. Especially right now.” He whined out, craning his neck as I planted soft kisses on the skin. The rest of his body leaned into me, desperately seeking the relief my touch brought him. 

When I began sucking at a particularly sensitive spot of his, I earned a throaty moan from him, his head thrown back, and his hands grabbing my waist and pressing our bodies flush together. 

"I'm not teasing." I mumble against him. "I want you."

“Fuck. I’m serious. I’m this close to just-” He spoke, his voice low, but I didn’t want him to be logical about this. I wanted this now. I  interrupted his words with a deep, long kiss.

It seemed to work, his lips crashing into mine, over and over again, like this would be the last time we could ever savor the taste of the other again. As grabbed my face, lips moving ferociously over mine, his grip shifted so he could pin me up against the wall. I moaned into his mouth as his hands trailed down, squeezing the fat of my hip unexpectedly, and he used it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, lazily exploring my mouth with his own. When we finally pulled back for air, I whispered against his lips. 

“Do it. Please.” I croaked, already grabbing the fabric of his shirt. “Please, fuck me Spencer. Use me. I need you right now.” I wanted to sound as desperate as I felt, the heat between my legs growing unbearable at this point, my clit already wildly throbbing with need. 

“We’re in a closet. Someone could catch us." He quietly groaned out, but I could see the restraint leaving his body with every moment he looked at me. He looked wrecked already, hair strown about messily, his lips red and swollen, chest moving up and down. The only sounds in the closet at this point were my pants and his heavy breathing to accompany it. He took another look at me, my eyes blown out and pleading for him, and it seemed like every barrier in his body suddenly broke.

With no warning,  he spun me around so my back would be towards him, pushing me up against the wall as he hurriedly worked away the button of my jeans.  I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter with anticipation, and when he worked my underwear down my legs, I could sense that I was already dripping, even though he'd barely touched me.  

He seemed to be doing the same undressing to himself, working at his slacks with his deft fingers, and I whimpered when I felt his heavy cock slot between me, the head of his tip running through my folds. I could feel how needy I was for him in this moment, and he seemed to enjoy the sight of my legs spreading just for him. He leaned over to let his finger trail over my slit, collecting some of my arousal on my finger. My thighs immediately quivered at the sensation, a loud moan escaping my lips. 

I felt him grab the back of my skull, forcing me to bare my face to hip. 

“Open.” He commanded, and my mouth hung open, almost as if I was under a spill. He roughly shoved his finger into my mouth, and I understood, closing my lips around them, swirling my tongue around his digits, praying that he’d fuck me soon. 

“Good girl.” He said, smoothly, and I nearly fell over from how weak he was rendering me, but a steady grip on my hair kept me upright. When his finger was sufficiently cleaned, he removed it and kissed me once more, smashing his lips aggresively into mine. I kissed him back, but in that moment, there was really only one thing I wanted. 

“Spencer, please.” I panted in between his never ending kisses. “I need you inside me.” I moaned, trying to convey the enormity of my desire for him. He chuckled at my pleads, pulling my hair so I’d be forced to look ahead of me instead. The anticipation absolutely killed me, and I brokenly moaned again, about to beg once more before he suddenly thrust into me, eliciting a yelp from my lips, which I immediately swallowed down as he began to jut his hips against mine. 

“That’s it. Go on, take it.” He whispered, roughly. “You were made for this, weren’t you?” He questioned, cruelly. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He goaded, going harder and harder with every word he uttered to me in the closet, my desperate attempts to stop my whimpers not being received well by him. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” He sneered, continuing to buck against me. “Didn’t you want the whole team to know what a whore you are for me?” 

I tried to keep my restraint, a low mewl escaping my lips, but that seemed to incentivize him to go even faster, the sounds of our skin slapping against each other filling the room, the smell of sex overtaking every one of my senses. 

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear you.” He then groaned once more, and I could feel how bad he wanted this, how badly he wanted me. The thought made me clench around him, which elicited another moan from his mouth. “I want everyone to hear you.” 

It was like a dam broke through me, and in an instant I was moaning, louder than I had that whole time in the closet, my noises marked by a carnal desire for this, for him. 

“Please, oh god. Spencer- I need to cum, please.” I begged, my mouth hanging open as he fucked me dumb. 

He chuckled at my loss of prudence, rewarding me accordingly. He moved his fingers down to where we were joined, beginning to rub fast, tight circles around my clit. 

“Go on, then.” He murmured. His hips never once wavered, and I could feel his grip on my hips, so tight I was sure there'd be bruises tomorrow. “Come for me.” 

I did, nearly toppling down as waves of my orgasm hit me, convulsing in his arms as I registered the feeling of him continuing to slam against me. I braced myself on the wall, letting him take me the way he wanted, and I could hear his broken moans and whimpers echo throughout the closet.

"Fuck. You're so good." He groaned out, and I let out a low whine at that, which transformed into a sob as he bottomed out in me, making me feel so full. In an instant, I could feel warmth flooding my deepest point, his hips beginning to slow down and still entirely. He pulled out of me, still panting. 

“Holy shit.” He murmured, still panting, watching as the evidence of what we’d just done dripped down my thigh. He helped me out of my bent over position as I smiled at him, dazed. 

“Holy shit, indeed.” My voice came out hoarse, scratched up from how loud I’d been screaming for him. 

“Remind me why we don’t do this again?” He said, grinning and breathless. 

“Something about professionalism?” I offered, still absolutely fucked out as I tried to regain some semblance in my appearance. One look at Spencer and I, and it wouldn’t take long to figure out exactly what we’d been doing. 

“Yeah, somehow after that, I don’t really care about professionalism.” He said, before pulling me into one last, idle kiss. He felt safe, and it felt so good to be with him like this. 

“Good.” I murmured, when our lips finally separated. “Because I don’t think I’d be able to survive if we only did this once.” I said, giggling. 

“Wanna go again?” He offered, raising an eyebrow and running a hand through his hair. 

Let’s just say that the closet became a frequent spot of ours after that. And with how loud I was screaming his name every single time? It’s safe to assume everyone else knew about it too. 

EDIT: read part 2 (where they get caught!) here!

sorry about the wait this time around! i try to keep my fics within a week of each other, but i've got some life commitments to attend to now. (unfortunate). i hope you guys enjoyed this though!! <3 likes, reblogs, comments, are all greatly appreciated. thank you for all your support<3

[teamatsumu]

where we left off. (hinata shoyo x reader)

summary: “you confess because you think you will never see him again, so it doesn’t matter ” - for my valentine’s day event - theme: confessions

word count: 1981

tags: @nishayuro @kitas-tapioca @kakashineedstotouchgrass s @amisuh @avis-writeshq @samanthaa-leanne @akaashi-todorki @sp1ng @kur0obaby @bleach-your-panties

event masterlist

There is a light in Shoyo that just won’t dim. Not that you want it to. It’s your favorite thing about him.

There are ten million reasons to like Shoyo (though Tsukishima would disagree and say he can barely find one. He’s lying. No one can dislike Shoyo. It’s not possible). But you like him for the simple reason that he is the best person you have ever met. He is dedicated and kind, loyal and friendly. You have known him since your first year in high school, and you have seen him face every adversity that comes his way with full confidence and optimism.

It’s no wonder you’re hopelessly in love with him. How could you not be? Shoyo entered your life and made everything ten times brighter and easier to deal with. From day one, he was your confidant and your cheerleader. In all those three years, Shoyo stood by you like you stood by him. You had grown by leaps and bounds with him as your friend.

Friend.

The sun was low in the sky, spreading a warm orange light over the clouds as it set. The color reminds you of Shoyo’s hair, and you have to curse yourself. It seems you can never stop thinking about him, and the world is adamant on making sure you didn’t even try to. You sigh and lean back on the bench you were seated on, closing your eyes and mentally preparing yourself for what was coming.

High school graduation had come and gone. Tomorrow, Shoyo will leave for Brazil. For two years minimum. And who knows? He says he will return, but there is a very real chance he won’t. An up-and-coming volleyball player like him, he could be snatched up by a local club. Or he could fall in love with beach volleyball and continue living there so he could keep playing it.

Two years is a long time for a person to change. You can change. He can change. You can’t trust yourself to leave this until then. Now, before Shoyo leaves, you will confess to him all of your closely guarded feelings. Before he potentially leaves your life for good, he has to know that he is the reason you are where you have gotten.

Heavy footsteps slowly fade in, making you turn your head to follow the sound. You spot Shoyo barreling down the sidewalk towards you, skidding to an abrupt halt when he reaches your bench. He takes a few deep breaths before grinning wide, and just the sight of his million watt smile has your own lips tugging up to return the gesture.

“Ready for dinner?”

Homey, comforting ramen is Shoyo’s choice of last meal in Japan. You both trudge into his usual ramen place, one that he loved to frequent often after practice. He talks your ear off all the way there, telling you about his day. He had been getting his affairs in order, saying goodbye to all the important people and packing up some last minute stuff. You let him catch you up to every tiny detail, (He is like that. He doesn’t like leaving anything out) and you hum along to his stories.

When steaming bowls of ramen are set down before you is when Shoyo finally shuts up, instead choosing to immediately wolf it down. You watch him with blatant adoration in your eyes. You know you do, and you don’t bother to hide it. Sharing this one last moment with him, you don’t want to hold back. This might be the last time you can look at him in leisure. So you drink him in the best you can, trying to seal this moment in your memory forever.

“Are you excited for beach volleyball?”

He nods around a mouthful of noodles. “I have just two years to learn it, so I’m a bit nervous. But I can’t wait to start!”

You smile at his usual unending enthusiasm. “You’ll be great, Shoyo. I have never met someone as hardworking as you.”

And there is that smile again, so bright you almost have to squint to withstand it. He was so different from how he was in first year. He had come such a long way in just three years. Imagine how much he would change after two years in a completely foreign country, on the other side of the world.

You can feel your shoulders drop.

After dinner, Shoyo insists on dessert and you both end up getting ice pops. He finishes his before you can even take one bite of your own, and then ends up finishing half of yours as well when you tell him you are full and he can have it. No wonder he has unending stamina. He eats the food of three people. You smile at the thought.

As per routine, Shoyo walks you home afterward. The sun has fully set by this time, and the streetlights periodically illuminate the two of you as you walk along the sidewalk. Your figures cast long, moving shadows on the concrete, and you keep your eyes on them as you walk. Shoyo is humming something under his breath, occasionally breaking the silence to comment on something. You bask in the moment.

When you slow to a stop at your front door, you realise it is finally time to do what you had been psyching yourself up for all this time.

“I have something to say.” You comment. Shoyo blinks and nods, encouraging you to continue. You take a deep breath.

“For the last three years, you’ve been the best person in my life. By a long shot. I can’t believe I met someone like you. You’re always so supportive, Shoyo, and you’ve really helped me be the best version of myself.”

You cringe at your corny statements, but Shoyo’s face has softened. He stays silent. You muscle on.

“I like you. A lot. A lot. And before you leave, I just wanted you to know this.”

Because I may never see you again. You let the last sentence die in your throat.

Shoyo looks down at the ground, fiddling with his hands a bit. You realize you have made him nervous. And no wonder. You just dumped a huge revelation on him the day before he leaves the country.

“You don’t have to say anything!” You add on, as soon as Shoyo opens his mouth to speak, trying to soothe his nerves. “I don’t want you to reciprocate. I just wanted to tell you all this before you left.”

You step forward to wrap him into a hug, feeling him freeze at the gesture. You don’t let yourself linger, pulling away mere seconds later. Shoyo opens and closes his mouth like a fish. You giggle.

“Do your best in Brazil, Shoyo. I’m counting on you.”

And then you pull open the door, shutting it behind yourself with one last smile at his surprised face.

……………………

Tokyo is a big city, and you lose yourself in the hustle and bustle of it.

Miyagi was quiet, peaceful, and you knew more or less everyone there. In contrast, Tokyo is continuously moving, and you have to run to keep up with it. It’s a big change, going from Tokyo to Miyagi, but it is a welcome one. You can feel how you change and blossom along with the city.

Your apartment is small. One bedroom, open kitchen, tiny bathroom. It’s a starter apartment and you are still a student, so it doesn’t matter. Every night, you cook yourself a modest meal and plop yourself down in front of the television, continuing some show you have been watching for the last few days. Afterwards, you have a warm cup of tea and then begin your nightly routine, ready for classes the next day.

Today that routine is disrupted by loud knocking on the door.

You pause your chewing, reaching for the remote to mute the TV. You don’t hear any sound, not even shuffling, but ten seconds later you hear another, longer knock. Sighing, you set your bowl down on the coffee table and throw your blanket off, trudging to the door. When you look through the peephole, all you see is one shoulder. You roll your eyes at the person who chose to not stand in your view.

You undo the lock and pull the door open, immediately freezing on the spot.

He has grown so much taller, and broader. His skin holds a wonderful bronze tan, and his hair is shorter than the last time you saw him. But his smile is the same. Bright and blinding, endlessly welcoming. Your heart skips.

“Hi.” He breathes. His voice is deeper too. A little scratchier. You continue to stare, mouth agape. You cannot believe it, and your brain cannot process it.

“Shoyo…” Your grip on the doorframe tightens. A small silence extends between you two. Shoto shifts a bit.

“Can I come in?” He asks sheepishly.

You abruptly jerk back, nodding vigorously. “Of course! Sorry, sorry. Come in.”

You allow Shoyo to pass through the threshold, toeing his shoes off and stacking them next to your own before looking back at you expectantly. You lead him into the living room, mind racing with a thousand thoughts.

He was back. From Brazil. Taller and tanned and just as bright. And he’s back. You reel with the revelation.

“How have you been?” He asks, seating himself on the couch and looking up at you with a small smile. He seems…. calmer somehow. More present instead of how flighty he used to be. More grounded. You nod a bit.

“I’m- I’ve been good. You?”

“Me too.”

“Okay good.”

Awkward silence stretches between you two. You feel your face heat up.

“I’m going to make tea!” You announce, bustling towards the kitchen before Shoyo can protest, trying not to think about the last conversation you had with him right before he left, over two years ago.

Once you settle before him with two steaming hot cups, the awkward air disperses a bit. You aren’t surprised. It always did with Shoyo. He had a talent like this. You ask him about Brazil and he goes on a whole storytime for it, telling you about the vast beaches and the burning sun. How much he learned and how much he changed.

That part is true, you can tell. Shoyo has changed. But despite all that, you can feel the way your heart skips, the way your palms get clammy. All those old feelings are coming back, and you cannot stop them. As you watch the way Shoyo laughs and reminisces with you, you’re not sure you want to.

A lull hits after Shoyo stops talking, and you watch as he fiddles with his hands a bit before speaking again, his voice lower this time, more serious.

“Can we….. pick up where we left off?” He doesn’t glance up at you, playing with his hands.

You blink at his words, trying to process them. He gives you a crooked smile that lights your nerves on fire.

“You never let me reply that day. And…. I didn’t think I should either, because I was leaving. But now…”

He trails off, you feel your breath catch. Is he implying what you think he is? You try not to get your hopes up, but Shoyo’s next words seal the deal.

“I like you tons.”

You can’t help your breathless laugh at his choice of words. Your skin buzzes. Shoyo scoots closer to you. You let him. His leg brushes against yours and you can feel the way electricity zips through you at the feeling.

“I like you tons too.”

Ten minutes later, when Shoyo drags huge suitcases into your lobby from outside your front door, you realize he came here straight from the airport. And it only makes you love him more.

[mochinomnoms]

“Will you marry me—” “We can sue them for this!”

Based on a tiktok of a guy proposing by hiding the ring in an orange.

He was so in love with you. Utterly, hopelessly, and blissfully in love with you. If he didn't do this now, he wasn't sure he'd be able to.

He sat next to you on the checkered blanket, one you insisted you get for your picnic date. As luck would have it, there was a local farmer's market happening in the park, just across from where you two had settled.

It was the perfect excuse for him to slip you a fresh orange in the middle of your lunch. He'd grabbed the biggest, brightest orange that he was sure would be as sweet as you. He wanted to surprise you, and you've always loved jokes and harmless pranks. Even when (especially when) his fell flat with others, you always gave him a laugh and pretty smile. So he just knew that you'd love this.

As he finally managed to make a small enough tear in the skin to not completely make the orange fall apart, but big enough to slip in the ring. It's sparkling gem just poking out for your view, he gently elbowed you for your attention.

“Here honey.”

You'd been distractedly people watching the folks at the farmer's market, jumping slightly to look at the orange in his hand.

“Oh, thank you! Where'd you get an orange?” You asked, smiling at him as you looked at the orange.

He gestured for you to take it, which you did without question.

“I got it from the farmer's market just a bit ago, but I think there's something in it.”

“Whaaaat?” You gasped, immediately turning the orange over and peeling it. “What do you mean there's something in it?”

He couldn't help but smile as you excitedly dug your nails into the skin, though you were peeling at the wrong spot.

“Just look, right there!” He exclaimed in faux surprise, moving your hand to turn the orange. Your fingers brushed over the stone, making you gasp.

“Oh my gosh!” A giddy grin grew across your face as you carefully picked around the ring until you were able to dig it out.

“Oh. Oooooh!”

Surprise covered your face, mouth dropped as you help the ring up, it shone in juice and from the sunlight. It was one of his favorite sights, though all of them included you.

Sudden realization crossed your face as you turned to face him, holding the ring between you two. You were still smiling with a sparkle in your eye, and he knew that this the best idea he'd ever had.

“Baby-gasp-baby.” You grabbed his hand, and exclaimed. “We can sue them for this!”

Wait, what!

“No! Will you marry me?!” He half-laughed, half-cried.

“Oh!” You hummed in understanding, before realization crossed your face, and you threw yourself at him. “Oh my god, yes!!!”

He loved you, and your antics. He's glad he can be with them for the rest of his life.

Trey Clover, Cater Diamond, Ace Trappola, Ruggie Bucchi, Jade Leech, Floyd Leech, Kalm Al-Asim, Epel Felmier, Lilia Vanrouge

comments and reblogs appreciated 🩷

[lovelyjj]

Hopelessly Devoted

jj maybank x reader

wc: 2.7k

(not my gif)

a/n: the first time I posted this it didn’t show up in the tags so i’m posting it again!

JJ has never experienced this before. His whole life he has never felt this way before. The only word that he could describe it is lovesick.

JJ was absolutely totally undeniably completely hopelessly in love with you. and you had no idea. It wasn't like it wasn't obvious. The way he looked at you with hearts in his eyes.

Other people noticed it too the way JJ looked at you like you hung the stars in the sky. John B, Pope and Kie could tell their friend was in love.

"Does she ever talk about me?" JJ asked Kiara as they were out on the boat.

You were working and missed out on the boat day but you didn't mind you were gonna catch up with them later.

"I mean she doesn't not talk about you." Kiara replied.

"Come on Kie, I know you guys have your girls night. She has to say something" JJ begged.

"I think she loves you as a friend" Kie offered.

"You don't ask her about me?" JJ frowned.

"Not really slipped my mind."

"Well next time you see her will you." JJ asked.

"oh no i'm not getting in the middle of it." Kiara reasoned.

"You already are in the middle of it."

Kiara turned away from JJ shaking her head and looking out at the ocean. John B was driving the boat back to the château after a day of swimming and fishing.

Later that day when it started to turn into the evening you came over bringing snacks with you for a movie night.

You knocked on the door and then entered the château.

"Hey I brought snacks," you shouted hoping they could hear you.

"thank you y/n" John B acknowledged.

You walked into the living room ready for a chill night with your friends.

JJ patted the seat next to him on the couch gesturing for you to come sit next to him.

"Sit with me" JJ spoke.

You climbed over Pope and Kiara who were on the floor cozied with blankets and a air mattress.

John B and Sarah were on the couch too. The space JJ pointed to was small and so you sat down a little squished.

The movie started and everyone settled down. However, you seemed to inch closer to JJ progressively throughout the movie.

It got to the point where half your body was on top of him. Then JJ took it upon himself to haul you onto his lap.

"There. That's better huh," JJ whispered in your ear.

You simply nodded focusing your attention on the TV.

Near the end of the movie you started to grow restless. You shifted around and ended up straddling JJ's lap. Now you were facing him.

"Hi there princess."

"Hi"

"Shhh" Sarah hissed.

You then proceeded to lay your head on his shoulder, nose nudging at his neck. Eventually you fell asleep.

There wasn't that much left of the movie. JJ was shocked you felt comfortable enough to fall asleep on him. He felt like he was in heaven. He couldn't believe it, your soft breaths hitting his neck. Occasionally, JJ would rub your back, soothing his hand up and down. When the movie was over and the snacks have been eaten JJ got up.

"Alright guys Im gonna hit the hay, and get this one to bed."

Your legs unconsciously wrapped around JJ's waist. JJ carried you by the back of your thighs.

When JJ made it to his room he laid you down on his bed. He brought the covers up to your neck and kissed your forehead.

"Good night angel."

JJ went to the hall closet for some blankets. Then he made himself comfortable on the floor.

—————

You woke up from one of the best sleeps you've ever had. Maybe it was JJ's scent in the sheets or being in his bed but you were unbelievably comfortable.

You started to sit up when you did you noticed a mop of blonde hair peaking out from a blanket on the floor.

He slept on the floor? You were shocked. What a gentleman. You would have been fine sharing with him though.

"JJ," you called to him.

"JJ."

When you got no response you threw a pillow at him.

JJ propped himself up on one arm and threw you a nasty glare.

"Seriously" JJ asked.

You scrunched up your nose, "You weren't waking up."

"So you through a pillow at me?"

"Yes." you laughed.

And JJ who loved the sound of your laughter grinned.

"Why'd you sleep on the floor?" You asked curiously.

"I wanted you to have the bed," JJ spoke sincerely.

"You could have shared with me," you reasoned.

JJ hitched his throat. The thought of you sharing a bed with him had his heart hammering in his chest. He wondered if you would have cuddled with him. No that he couldn't handle. He was practically blushing.

"No baby girl you just seemed so tired I didn't want to disturb you." JJ responded. He didn't even notice the pet name. It just flowed out of his mouth so naturally he didn't even notice how flustered it made you.

You buried your face in your hands hiding your flushed cheeks and smile.

When you uncovered your face and looked at him JJ was already looking at you. To him, you looked breathtaking. Your hair was messy and your lips looked plump. Your face looked ethereal. JJ could feel his blood rushing through his body. Then he got himself thinking, if he could wake up to this beautiful sight, to her, every morning he would die a happy man.

————————

The next day you all went over to Sarah's house to go swimming.

The boys came to pick you up at your house since yours was closest to Sarah's. You were the last stop.

You were wearing a purple bikini and some jean shorts over it. When you entered the twinkie JJ took notice to your lack of clothes and exposed skin. You looked hot and JJ was practically drooling.

Your legs were pressed together in the back of the twinkie as John B drove. Pope was in the front seat leaving Kie, JJ, and you in the back.

JJ reached over and put a hand on your thigh. This causing you to blush furiously. This action unnoticed by kie.

"Hi pretty girl," JJ whispered.

"Hi," you whispered back.

The rest of the drive over to Sarah's house was quick and you all casually conversed.

"Alright ladies, here we are," John B shared.

JJ was first to hop out of the van. The rest of you quickly followed.

After entering Tanny hill you all headed to the pool area. Sarah was happy to host everyone over.

The pool was huge and you forgot how well off kooks are.

"Here are some towels," Sarah commented.

"Thank you."

The pogues were lounging around the pool no one was going on just yet.

You stripped down into your bikini. Not even 10 seconds after you did so JJ was picking you up bridal style.

"JJ don't you dare."

JJ swung you over the edge of the pool and acted like he was going to drop you by releasing you from his grip over the ledge. Each time he would fake drop you you would cling onto him a little tighter. He would fake drop you three times and on the fourth he actually threw you in.

When you surfaced you gave JJ the stink eye.

"Your welcome," JJ offered.

John B got up and made his way to sneak up behind JJ. It only took one shove for JJ to end up in the water.

"Hey!" JJ said as he surfaced wiping his face.

"Thank you John B," you voiced.

"Anytime."

In no time the rest of the pogues joined you and JJ in the water. Pretty soon everyone was splashing each other.

You all had a good time swimming and splashing.

About an hour or two later you sat in a lounge chair working on your tan.

Kiara came and sat by you.

"So tell me what's going on between you and JJ," she spoke resting her chin in her hand and her elbows on her knees.

"What do you mean? There is nothing going on between us," you stated shocked.

"Just admit you like him already would you," Kiara put out.

"I don't know what your talking about," you smiled smugly.

Your smile did not go unnoticed by Kiara who just shook her head and looked the other way.

JJ walked over to you and sat at the end of your lounge chair.

"What are you guys talking about?" JJ says nonchalantly.

"Nothing," you and Kiara say at the same time.

"Right we'll I was wondering if y/n wanted to come surfing with me tomorrow morning?" JJ placed his hand on your knee and uses his thumb to stroke the area.

His actions don't go unnoticed by you but you let him touch you as you found it sweet and endearing.

"Yeah i'd love to go surfing with you J," you added.

"Great. It's a date."

———————

You woke up on the pull out couch in John Bs den. It was all a haze waking up to hushed voices in the living room. The sun peaking through the window.

"Hey sleepy head." JJ's voice rang through your ears. You let out a groan and covered your head with a pillow.

JJ grabbed the pillow and threw it on the other side of the bed. "Ready to go surfing?"

JJ's eyes were bright and he had a faint smile on his lips. Truth be told he was excited to spend some alone time with you. He was deeply in love with you and you were absolutely clueless.

"Yeah give me a minute."

——————

You and JJ sat on the sand after crushing the waves. JJ had his arm around you.

"Thank you for coming out with me." JJ spoke softly, digging his hands into the sand at his place next to you.

"Yeah no problem, the waves were great," you smiled.

JJ was at war with himself. He desperately wanted to tell you how he feels about you. How he loves you so much. He wanted to shout it from the roof tops. He just didn't know how you felt and it was torture. He didn't think you liked him back but then again he didn't know for sure. Should he risk everything including you friendship and tell you.

JJ was conflicted. Right now was the perfect opportunity. You were alone overlooking the beach. And here you are sat next to him without a clue that his heart is beating faster with you next to him. JJ finally decided to do the next best thing: ask you out.

"Hey, So I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me?"

"With the other pogues?" you questioned.

"No it would be just us." JJ answered.

"Like a date?"

JJ panicked. "No not a date. Just two friends hanging out."

"Oh okay. Yeah I'd love to."

__________

You and JJ had your dinner and it was lovely. You guys talked and laughed like there was no tomorrow. Your legs touched under the table and you felt like you were floating.

It was three days after the dinner when you were walking to the château.

It was a 5 minute walk but you decided to stop at the store to get some beer, making your walk a little longer.

You were almost to the store when a truck pulled up right next to you. To your horror it was Rafe and Topper.

"Hey there girlie," Rafe commented stepping out of the truck.

"Rafe." You gave him a mean look.

As he got closer to you, you could see his face more clearly. He had a black eye and a busted lip.

"What happened to you?" You asked, not that you really cared.

"Your little boyfriend is what happened. But you should see him." He whistled, "Not pretty."

"I swear if you hurt him-"

"What? What can you possibly do to me." Rafe spoke.

Without thinking you threw a punch at Rafe hitting him in the nose.

"You little shit!" Rafe snarled.

"Topper grab her!" Rafe shouted.

Topper took your hands and held them behind your back holding you in place.

"That pogue really got me. Now it's time for some payback."

Topper held you down while Rafe hit you. You were able to kick him in the balls but he was beating you pretty badly.

All of a sudden the three of you herd a siren. Topper let you go immediately and tried to act natural.

Sheriff Peterkin stepped out of the car.

"What's going on here?" she questioned.

"Nothing sheriff." Rafe yelled.

"Why don't you run along and get out of here," sheriff peterkin announced.

Rafe and Topper were quick to move. They quickly drove off not wanting to get in trouble.

"You okay miss."

"I'm fine," you whispered.

Then you fell to the ground and everything went dark.

—————

When you first woke up you were confused as to where you were. Slowly becoming conscious, you realized you were at the police station.

"Oh good your awake. I'd like to see you in here please." Sheriff peterkin ordered.

You slowly got up and made your way to her office.

"Have a seat."

You sat down quickly realizing that everything in your body ached.

"Now who did this to you?"

"I think you know," you replied weakly.

"damn it!" she cursed.

"Would you like to press charges?"

"No. I just want to go home," you spoke truthfully.

"I highly advise-"

You cut her off, "I just want to leave please."

"Ok." She motioned for you to exit the room. You breathed a breath of relief.

On your way out you looked at the time. It was almost 3pm. You were supposed to be a John Bs an hour ago.

You slowly but surely made your way over to the château.

When you arrived the pogues were all out in the porch. You were anxious to face JJ because you don't know how he's going to react.

You walked up to the lawn and the pogues could see a shadowy figure. When you stepped into the light on the porch all the pogues gasped.

Your face was badly bruised.

JJ stood up. "What the fuck!"

"JJ-"

"No stop. Who did this to you?"

"Rafe."

JJ started walking. "I'll kill him."

"No JJ. Please don't," you pleaded.

JJ was fuming. How dare someone hurt his girl. JJ felt a little bit guilty because he fought Rafe a couple days ago.

"It's all my fault I shouldn't of provoked him. I'm so sorry."

"You didn't know he would come after me. it's ok."

"It's not ok," JJ expressed.

JJ took your hand and led you to the bathroom. He had you hop up on the sink. He began cleaning your wounds.

"I can't believe he laid his hands on you." JJ spoke.

"I'm fine JJ."

"Look at you. No your not."

JJ dabbed at your eye and you winced.

"Sorry," JJ apologized.

When JJ was just about finished assessing your injuries he began to speak. "I can't do this. This is breaking my heart."

"JJ wha-"

"No let me finish."

"I can't stand seeing you hurt like this. My chest physically hurts and I feel like i'm going crazy because Im crazy about you. I can't pretend like i'm not in love with you when I am."

JJ's chest was rising up and down. He was breaking down over his love for you. He was ripped to shreds at the sight of you hurt. It tore him apart.

"JJ I have always loved you," you confessed.

As if he was holding his breath he let out all the air in his lungs. He gave you a bright smile.

JJ wasted no time as he leaned forward in his spot between his legs. He cradled your face in his hands and placed his lips on yours. The kiss was quick and frantic.

You were surprised at the passionate nature of the kiss. Your stomach was tingly. Your mouths explored each other's. When the need for air became too strong you pulled away.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." JJ expressed.

[etheries1015]

Lilia unable to fall in love again after what he's been through is a gold star S+ tier, but I raise you:

Canon Lilia realizing he's falling in love again and being terrified by it

Oh my gosh this HURTS!! worse than him not being able to fall in love again!! Anon, my love, why must you break my heart!

They are referring to this <-

The moment Lilia realizes he's falling in love with you, he almost mistakes it for chest pains of an aging man. He grasps at his shirt in which his heart lay beneath pounding erratically, his stomach a war of sharp-winged butterflies.

Fate is truly a mysterious thing, for as time went on with you often providing company to the elderly fae, he noticed the small things that began to change.

The way your smile made his heart skip a beat at times, and your laugh becoming for more sweeter than he remembered, He found himself going out of his way to make you laugh. That mellifluous laugh left his heart racing at the simple thought that it elicited your beautiful lips because of him. He noticed the changes in the way he found himself wanting to tell you important things first- how you were the first person he would text after receiving an amazing bonus in his video game or a rare item, or simply to rant about some drama happening around him.

He wasn't sure when exactly he decided to choose you as his go-to, when he cooks it's no longer Silver as his testing dummy, but you. Whenever he found an old history book from his past he felt compelled to open up to you, taking note of how cute you were as you stared so attentively at his rambling and gestures. It soon came to the point where he thought that if you were to go home, he would be...

heartbroken.

He realized this change all at once when he leaned against his desk and gazed at you with eyes lidded and a satisfying smile as you flashed your signature smile. It wasn't a particular thought, per se, but an instantaneous feeling of absolute dread. His hand fell from holding his head up and red eyes widened, now staring at you no longer with the gaze of a smitten man, but the pale and dreadful expression of someone who was utterly terrified. His hands began to tremble as he flashed a smile that was so obviously painted and excused himself, crashing into his room hyperventilating.

With tears streaming down his cheeks and hands pulling at his hair, Lilia stared in the mirror watching himself pathetically come undone as he fell to his knees and began to hold his burning chest.

"Not again," He choked out

"I can't do this again."

He tried to convince himself of every possible path that would allow him an out to this feeling, describing you as someone he simply doted on, or perhaps his age getting to him. However, fate is as cruel as it is beautiful, and eventually, he had to accept the fact that he had fallen hopelessly in love.

And he hadn't felt more hopelessly petrified at the notion.

[iutdwae]

— toned.

pairing. bangchan x (afab)reader

cw. thigh / ab riding, size kink and mutual pining if you squint, hints of sub!chan, chan is so desperate when it comes to your pleasure </3 poor baby comes in his pants ><  friends to… something..? kinda pwop because i'm sleepy and i just really love the idea of grinding on chan's abs :<

word count. 1.5k

[ i had to come out of my 3 year tumblr writing hiatus because this has been on my mind for so long, and that picture that changbin had posted of his back did not help at all… ] 

chan's rapid change of physique came to no one's surprise. given his role as an idol, you knew how much he valued being "presentable," to be the visually strong leader of a group of equally strong men. he'd started to spend more time at the gym, and in return, his build had more of an effect on you than you liked to admit: competent abs, the firm muscle lining his torso. the way his skin dips and curves, begging to be seen whenever he lifts his shirt up "innocently," but you swear it's an invitation every time.

suggestive complaints spilled from his plump lips about how sore his body is from his training earlier, the sweat still drying on him as the musk lingers. he's tempting and he knows he is, sleeves rolled up to accentuate his broad shoulders. his arms bulged as they cross over his body. "it's still hot," he excuses, but you know he wants you to take note of the way his veins texture his skin.

yet chan has the audacity to act flustered when you compliment the muscle he's worked so hard for. it's his routine, even in front of the camera: show off just to hide behind his fingers, that familiar red tint flushing his cheeks. but it's obvious he's putting on a front this time. he wants you to need him, too prideful to take you for himself. he's purposely stretching his body upwards, skillful in how he lets a sultry groan fall from his tongue while the hem of his black shirt rides up his waist to expose his defined v line, tantalizingly disappearing into the fabric of his sweatpants. 

he has the audacity to act smug when you find yourself hopelessly rubbing against his clothed thigh, perched on top of him while your fingers ghost the lines of his abs. one of your hands grasps at his shoulders, nails digging into his delicate skin as one of his own rests gently on your hips, feeling the way you roll against him. his shirt had long been discarded, courtesy of your desperation as well as his discreet eagerness. 

"you're so beautiful, princess," he coos lowly, brows furrowed and eyes hazy as he watches your expression. his cock is straining against his pants, just as sore as he claimed his body was, and you can physically feel how wet your pussy is each time you rock your hips forward. "y'like getting off knowing i'm all yours, don't you?" 

you'd never had a preference for body type, but chan's build seemed to break you as you watched it develop; squirming at the mentions of his measurements, wide shoulders with a pretty waist, perfectly sectioned abs adorning his stomach. it was something about him in particular that had you craving him. he was nothing short of a gentleman, respectful and ideal. the type of man you knew your parents would approve of immediately. chris is careful with his words, knows exactly what to say and when to assure everyone he's acquainted with knows that he is no hassle.

perhaps, in some sinister, perverted fashion, it's his pleasantries that had you thinking of your best friend in ways that were animalistic in more ways than one. you caught onto every single one of his innuendos, all of the subtle gestures that you interpreted as bait, that made you wonder how tainted his mind was behind his polite and polished demeanor. watching him carry the weight of his members around on stage with nothing more than a soft breath, you couldn't help but let your mind wander, would he be able to manhandle you with that same ease?

soon enough, he'd slipped your pants off, though instead of settling back onto his thigh, you were straddling his torso, sore cunt draped right on top of his abs. chan let out a guttural whimper at the feeling of wet heat sliding across his stomach, clit catching along the dips of his muscle that sent static down your spine; both of you are sensitive, him in ways he couldn't really explain. "fucking love your pussy, baby," he gasped, dark eyes peering up longingly through long lashes. although there’s no pressure against his waist, he bucks up anyway, rutting his hips into thin air to counteract your own motions. large hands grasp your hips, thighs, ass, anything chan can reach from where he’s leaning back against the couch. “you’re so pretty getting off on me.” he’s desperate to feel more of you, latching onto any skin he can grope, his palms roaming aimlessly around your frame as they dip in and out from underneath your shirt. 

meanwhile, you’re just as lost in the moment as the male is: hips stuttering as you grind down on his stomach, his hardened abs providing the perfect amount of pressure and rigidness that your cunt practically cried for. the soft pants that escaped your mouth matched chan’s rhythmically, whines coated with lust and neediness. you hadn’t been far from the truth, at least it didn’t feel like it when your best friend was just as turned on, grunting as he tried to nudge his clothed erection against you. 

chan still upheld his chivalrous personality, even when his dick was painfully straining on his pants; he didn’t dare disrupt your chase towards your orgasm, moaning lowly as he watched your brows cinch, eyes clamped shut with your mouth gaped open. “gonna come all over me, huh?” he breathed out, sweat beading at his temple. the way your pussy slipped so easily along his abs made him dizzy, sopping wet and sticky against his skin. it was so much more than what he always imagined when he fucked himself into his hand, drunk on the way you used his body like this was what he’d worked so hard for—for you to come all over the muscle he trained for months to develop, leaving red streaks under your nails along his defined back and grasping onto him as roughly as he was groping you. 

you could feel his abdomen tensing between your legs, laying more of your weight onto the male as your thrusts became more fervid and sloppy. your clit was caught right between the ridges of his abs, rocking back and forth as wanton cries fell from your lips to echo his own. with the way you were fucking yourself onto him, he would’ve assumed you were just making up for a lack of proper pleasure; though in reality, you’d just been thinking about how he’d fuck you since the very beginning of your friendship. 

“channie, i’m so close,” you barely manage in the midst of your cries, the sound of your pussy lathering his skin in wetness loud enough for the both of you to hear. what you can’t see behind you is the obvious tent in chan’s pants, going unnoticed for the time being. it’s carnal and shameful the way you’re getting off on each other, his desperate attempts to fuck against you leaving him looking like a dog in heat all while your hips move rapidly on his torso. 

his grasp tightened on your hips, guiding you as he pushes your weight further down onto him, and he’s rewarded by the loud gasp you let out as your body shudders. “come on me, princess. show me how good i make you feel.” chan’s sitting upwards now, his touch trailing up your sides as his eyes never leave you for a second. one hand, thankfully, makes its way between your thighs, his finger rubbing at your clit and he almost moans out loud at how wet you feel under his touch. “c’mon, i’m all yours, baby. let it out.” 

what chan doesn’t expect is for himself to come too, immediately after watching your orgasm seep into the lines of his muscles, pussy fluttering and red at the sudden stimulation. he can feel his own cum pressed against the tip of his cock, staining the front of his pants with a relieved groan. and he can feel the slight burn of the scratches you left on his back while you’re coming down from your high in the security of his large arms. you can only mumble sniffled thank you’s to him while he holds you right against his chest, though he can’t help but rut up against you while you’re properly situated on his lap now. “you did so well for me, pretty,” he reassured you right into your ear, hoping you were too distracted to notice the way he was still trying to grind his cock against you. but the feeling of his wet sweatpants was unmistakable against your bare cunt. you’d speculated that chan had pretty good stamina, and it seemed to prove right when he’s eagerly sliding his sweats off to properly show you just how good he can make you feel.

[megumishotgf]

pov: megumi has a crush on you

summary: more megumi headcanons i fear… ya’ll like my texts way more so this is definitely written for me.

warnings: reference to catcalling? other than that sfw + gender non-specified!!

masterlist

reserved! megumi who takes his time getting to know you. he studies all your qualities and aspects personality as if one day he’ll be quizzed on your features. megumi admires your ambition and drive but most of all your tenderness and selflessness. he’s drawn to people with good and expressive hearts. people who like to help others and perform nice gestures just because they can.

attentive! megumi who focuses diligently when you’re speaking, concentrating on every single trivial detail, even those that slip absent-mindedly past your lips without much thought. he listens to you ramble on and on about your interests yet it never bores him (and he gets bored of people alright). speaks so softly with you in a tone that surprises everyone around you (mainly nobara and yuji who have never seen him so interested in another human before… he’s always this soft to animals, though).

nerdy! megumi who prefers reading non-fiction but will pick up your favourite fantasy novels just because he wants to feel close to you. seeing your eyes light up when he mentions the titles to you makes his heart swell. highlights his favourite quotes and annotates in between pages. he’ll share them with you, gaze fixated on you as your eyes scan over all of this thoughtful comments. you feel such genuine happiness knowing he has gone so far to do this for you.

sappy! megumi who picks up one of your romance suggestions next, finding himself relating to the hopelessly enamoured protagonist. again, he annotates his copies and scribbles exclamation marks when he comes across passages that resonate with his growing feelings for you. doesn’t show you these ones, of course. at least not yet.

shy! gumi who admires your kindness from afar. all the little things you go out of your way to do just to help someone else. when you assist yuuji in the kitchen with his high-protein meals or paint nobara’s nails with great precision. when you’re the first to offer your seat up for an elderly woman on the metro or when you bounce out of your seat to help your teachers carrying piles of school documents.

observant! megumi who notices all of your little habits. the kind of things that make you feel so loved and cared for when he mentions them back to you. those things that no one else really noticed even if you badly wanted it to be seen.

love-sick! megumi would configures multiple playlists about you. one playlist containing all your favourite tracks and another with all those that you recommended to him directly. the type to listen to ‘i wanna be yours’ and fall asleep to thoughts of being with you. so many random romantic playlists often come up on his spotify profile. one time he made you a physical mixtape. yes, it was mostly just love songs… you swore it was just a coincidence. mostly.

insecure! megumi who constantly thinks he could never be good enough for you. dismisses your concern when you notice him distancing himself (because somehow you can distinguish between this and his usual quietness) but can never fully push you away. feels his heartbeat accelerate when you offer him physical comfort (with less reluctance than with anyone else). hugs from you are so comforting.

touch-starved! megumi who craves your physical affection all the time and it gets very noticeable. his arms instinctively circle around your waist whenever you greet him, rushing over for a hug. at first it was always you initiating the affection, but it’s starting to feel so natural reciprocating it. your hand will subtly slip into his when you are walking around central tokyo together or you’ll cling onto his side for comfort and warmth. he worries that you’ll be able to hear his obnoxiously loud heartbeat when you do so, but nothing could make him pull away.

annoyed! megumi who glares at his friends when they tease him about your physical affection (or when they hear your nicknames for him). but at least they have the decency to wait until you’ve left, he thinks. i give them one more week, yuuji says to nobara as megumi walks away in the same direction you just went.

if looks could kill… nobody would want to experience angry! megumi. even yuuji and nobara started to feel unsettled seeing him like that after some old loser started to catcall you. you had barely registered what was called out to you before he fearfully disappeared around the corner.

kind! megumi who opens his arms for you when he sees you’re upset. sometimes struggles with verbal comfort, but he remembers how nice it is to be hugged by you, so surely this should help. it does help - and he feels his heart swell when you thank him for being there for you.

even more nervous! megumi who finally musters the courage to confess his feelings for you. rehearses the speech in his head (and surprisingly to yuuji) tens of times only to be left astounded after you make the confession first. finally kissing you felt like the sun rising after months of darkness.

megumi who has infinite amounts of layers!! getting to know him is truly a magical experience. ultimate green flag he is perfect end of discussion!!

haven’t published anything in so long… hey ya’ll. how is everyone doing. pls send requests i am out of ideas!!

[forlix]

"i did a thing." or, hyunjin needs an expert opinion about his newest piercing.

words・1.4k / pairing・idol!hyunjin x gn!makeup artist!reader / genres・fluff, established relationship / author's note・takes place in the same universe as places, places! and crying lightning but can be read on its own. @astraystayyh your children are back :’)

The parlor door jingles. Hyunjin emerges onto the chilled pavement with his phone pressed to his ear, and you pick up on the fourth ring.

“What is it? I’m busy.” The way your voice shrinks substantiates this claim, like you’ve darted to the other end of the room promptly after accepting his call. “And you’re on speaker.”

Hyunjin ducks into his car and sits back against the nylon with a grateful sigh. He finds himself constantly ill-prepared for Seoul’s Januarys. “Busy with who? Remind me.”

“You wanna say hi?” You ask the person in your company. Who is it? He hears them ask, to which you answer: Hyunjin. You say it softly, in the sense that you’re far away and speaking under your breath, but softly, in the sense that your tongue caresses every syllable of his name with that tacit fondness he’ll never tire of.

He notices the ditzy smile on his face only when he glances into his rear-view. He’s long given up on wiping it off.

A familiar voice drifts into your receiver. “Mr. Hwang!”

Ah, that’s right—you’re working on Aespa’s new music video for the next two weeks. Today must be the first day of filming.

“Hey, Ningning! How are you?”

“In a predicament, honestly. I have the biggest crush on my stylist, but so does this other guy…”

“Damn, sounds tough. Best of luck.”

“Oh, I won’t need luck. I said predicament, not competition.” 

His jaw hits his wheel. “Okay, we’re boxing. Let’s go. Earrings off.”

“Say less!"

You’ve withstood enough. “Alright, nobody is boxing anyone—do not touch your earrings, Ning, what’s wrong with you? God, Hyunjin!”

Now you say his name sternly, hopelessly, like he’s just knocked ten years off your lifespan. He almost likes this version more. He fell in love with you listening to it, after all.

“Did you call for any reason aside from threatening my clients?”

Oh, right. He did.

Hyunjin glances into the rear-view again, intentionally this time. He moves aside a lock of maroon hair to review the silver studs glinting off his right eyebrow.

He smirks.

“Am I allowed on set?”

Half an hour later, Hyunjin reaches the filming site and runs into a few staff members who are so surprised to see him they nearly forget to question what he’s doing there.

But they do their job, and he humors them, utters your name and the word “boyfriend” back to back. Then he watches their eyebrows disappear into their hairlines and basically prances into the dressing rooms.

He loves that everyone knows you. He loves that everyone knows that he loves you.

You were out of bed before he opened his eyes this morning, and he blooms at his first sight of you today, alone in the lounge, curled up on the couch and browsing through your phone. Eyeshadow stains your fingers and a pen sits behind the cuff of your ear. Your figure is framed in a (his) white cardigan with a red heart stitched over its left lapel. So professional, so pretty, that he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he uses his words instead.

“I did a thing,” he says, plopping onto the cushion next to you.

You look at him, shut off your phone. “I figured.”

“Promise me you won’t get mad.”

“No.”

It was worth a shot. “Can you blink, at least? You’re scaring me.��

In turn, you stretch open your eyes and hold them there. “A blink would be more than you deserve right now.”

Insufferable. He unleashes a bashful laugh and singular clap and looks back at you just in time to see a matching smile on your cordate lips. And to see you blink.

“Seriously, though, no more suspense,” you plead. “What on earth did you do? Should I be worried?” 

You tuck your hand around his bicep and tug lightly at his arm, and his insides pirouette at the gesture.

“No, no,” he answers, letting you pull him close, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I was being dramatic. It’s nothing, really.”

You catch him as he’s trying to leave. A light finger hooks beneath his chin, an anchor to keep his face a mere few inches away from yours.

You look him in the right eye, then in the left, your expression stoic, scrutinizing. He doesn’t remember where he looks, in the meantime. He’s slipping and sliding out of his right mind, drinking in your long lashes and curved cheeks, wondering what heroic deed he performed in his last life to be able to study beauty in such proximity in this one.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” You query, tracing the tip of your pointer finger over Hyunjin’s cupid’s bow.

“No,” he exhales. “It’s not nothing.”

“Did you get it on your face?”

Of course you already know.

He nods, and the finger moves to his lower lip, gently indenting the glossy plush. 

“Hot or cold?” 

“Cold.”

The finger runs over the bridge of his nose, then the perimeter of its prominence, like the drag of a feather. 

“Warmer.”

You lift a brow, give the side of his face a small nudge, and say, turn. The word comes out in a very stylist-esque manner, and you and Hyunjin realize this at the same time, judging by the synchrony of your quiet chuckles.

“Force of habit,” you murmur, and move his hair out of the way and lean in to examine his ear. Nothing new there. He turns his face the other way before you have to ask. Nothing new there, either.

When he looks at you again, your gaze has locked onto his eyebrows. You cock your head slightly to one side as it dawns on you what he’s done.

“Warmer,” he offers anyways, his smile small, his pulse rapid.

With a flourish of movement, you push his purple locks all the way off his forehead. Hyunjin holds his breath. Your expression goes blank. 

But it’s not blank, not really. One just has to know where to look. (He does.)

Your eyes darken fast as if caught in a solar eclipse, your pupils doubling in size, your irises quivering slightly. Your mouth opens, then closes, then purses into a thin line as if suppressing something explosive. Your cheeks blush at their very outskirts, along the edges of your face and the slants of your cheekbones, like how the first rays of sunlight always skim the mountaintops first.

He hardly notices the finger you bring to brush over the studs, so carefully he doesn’t feel the contact.

He’s too busy basking in his victory.

Neither of you say anything for a long while. You lean back, then right, then left, your hand pinned to his hairline, your gaze superglued to his brow. He simply sits still, feeling like one of your French girls, simpering, simping.

“You really did it,” you finally say.

“I did,” he chirps. “Any notes?”

At the next part of your lips, your waiting smile overtakes them at long last. You duck your head to conceal it like he hasn’t already melted at its mere image. You deliver your answer to your knees.

“No?” He repeats incredulously, teasingly. “That’s a shame. I really could’ve used an expert opinion.”

You roll your eyes hard enough for them to tug at your sockets. His boyish grin wipes away your feigned irritation like warm cotton.

“Fine,” you grouse. “Look at me.”

He does. You look back.

“It's nice," you deadpan.

Your resolve wobbles.

"Complements your face…shape.”

The ‘p’ sound pops, and you lose your shit.

The sun fully risen now, you bury your burning face into your hands, your shoulders shaking with silent laughter. Meanwhile, the raucous cackle that leaves Hyunjin’s lips causes the intern hurrying past the lounge outside to jump so high he actually lets go of his coffee cups before snatching them back out of the air with a relieved groan. He doesn’t get paid enough. 

You think you’re getting paid too much. 

“I love it, Hyun,” you whisper. “You’re beautiful. I don’t tell you that enough."

His heart beats so rapidly he thinks it might take off into a sprint; his laugh dwindles into a ditzy smile, one he’s long given up on wiping off.

“You know nothing about that word,” he replies, softly.

You bring your lips to his. His fingers wrap around the crook of your elbow. Yours begin curled in the silken hair at the back of his head. The pen behind your ear falls into the cracks of the couch.

“I’m still mad at you,” you sigh against his mouth, your own statement debunked by the inevitable drift of your touch back to the metal lodged in his face.

He doesn’t need to call you out. You do it yourself: “Ugh. I’ll be mad at you later.”

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PREVIOUS PART

Hopelessly Devoted (PART TWO)

Summary: After spending the whole night finishing the documents Tommy had asked for the previous day, you woke up confronted by his cold demeanour once against. Your heart only breaking further when you had to sit through his birthday celebration at the Garrison opposite the new barmaid he was now seeing. If that wasn't enough, you watched on as the one thing you never thought would get replaced did, when Tommy was given a birthday gift in a small box.

Warnings: Language, angst, fluff, mutual pining

"Wakey wakey, rise and shine" Arthur said as he stood in front of your desk with a huge grin on his face. " You're a bloody snorer" he chuckled as he dropped the accounts book that was sitting amongst the various documents on your desk right next to your head in attempts to wake you again.

" Fuck sake" you mumbled, your whole body jolting at the loud noise as you reached your hand out pushing the book away from you. " I don't snore" you said with a grunt as you slowly lifted your head from the papers beneath you, one of them awkwardly stuck to the side of your cheek which Arthur took no time in ripping from your face, leaving you with a lingering sting. With a cheeky smirk playing on the corner of his lips he looked back at you and the glare you was sending his way, knowing how much you desperately wanted to return the favor, but thankful that you hadn't enough energy to do so in your sleep deprived state.

" Late night?" he asked picking up your half empty glass of whisky, swirling it around before downing the rest. " Brrr fuck! That'll put hair on your balls" he said grimacing at the sharpness from the bitter liquor. "Not that you would know, since you know, you don't have..."

" Ok Arthur shut up, I get it " you interrupted as you rubbed the side of your neck feeling the soreness of the uncomfortable position you had slept in all night start to set in.

" You gonna tell me what you were doing here all night then?" he asked as he perched himself on the edge of your desk looking to you then back to all the workers now making their way through the betting shop.

" Tommy wanted me to finish these" you said as you collected the documents in front of you, your eyes quickly darting to his face knowing what his reaction would be. " Deadlines today Arthur..." you said as he slowly nodded his head, rubbing the side of his nose with his thumb. " He asked me because I'm the only one that will finish it on time" you added trying to convince him and yourself you hadn't become a complete push over. " Please, just don't. Don't say it" you said before he had a chance to reply, turning your head away as you tried to fight back the tears now welling in your eyes, knowing full well how pathetic you had become in your desperate attempts to please his brother.

" Come on love" Arthur said as he placed his hand firmly on your shoulder trying to comfort you in his own way. "Where's that girl I used to know ay? She would've kicked him in the balls already, or at least told him to fuck off if he asked her to stay an extra five minutes let alone a whole night" he chuckled trying to make you laugh as a small smile broke free from your lips.

" There you go" he said giving your shoulder a small squeeze as Tommy walked in, quickly turning the mood sour again. Bringing your head down in embarrassment at your show of emotions you frantically brushed away your tears, hiding yourself from his piercing glare.

" Those papers done?" Tommy said walking through the betting shop as Polly followed behind. No greeting, no smile, cold as ever. This was the Tommy you had now become accustomed to since his return from France, since your break up.

" Hello would be nice " Arthur replied for you. " You know, good morning, how are you? Oh I'm fine Tommy, bloody fantastic!" Arthur said as he stood up gesturing with his hands whilst his brother ignored his theatrics.

" Have them on my desk in ten minutes" Tommy replied slamming his office door, pulling the blind down.

" Birthday boys in a mood" Arthur said turning back to you as you sent him a small nod, the smile he had managed to coax from you having left the moment Tommy walked through the door. " Coming for a drink tonight?" Arthur asked as he walked back in front of your desk, forgetting or purposely leaving out the fact those drinks would be for Tommy's birthday. " Me and you Y/N we'll have a little dance, that'll cheer you up" he said mimicking a waltz all by himself as Polly turned around from the pot of boiling water she was pouring, her eyes widening in horror at Arthur's dangerously swaying hips.

" Jesus Christ, you're putting me of my tea" she chuckled as she walked over with a cup for you. "You'll end up in hospital dancing with him, he's all legs and arms " Polly said as Arthur stopped to look at the blank expression on your face, unresponsive to any attempts he desperately made to get you to laugh.

" Would you lot stop fucking around and get to work!" Tommy yelled from his office as he slammed his newspaper on the desk in front of him.

" Bloody party pooper, ay Y/N? " Arthur laughed trying to cheer you up once more as a smile finally reappeared on your lips lighting his eyes up in accomplishment. You could always count on Arthur to try and cheer you up. You and everyone else in the betting office were convinced he had made it his life mission to get at least one smile or laugh from you a day, even if it meant ridiculing himself at your expense. " Yes Sergeant Major" Arthur saluted as he opened Tommy's office door, the huff of a response from his brother loud enough to remind everyone just how much of a mood he was in or more specifically, the year long mood he had been in with you.

Sitting in front of your desk you collected all the papers in your hand placing them neatly together in a file, nervously biting your bottom lip as you glanced up to Tommy's door. Quickly looking around the room you turned away from everyone as you pulled out a small mirror and lipstick from within your handbag. Dabbing a small amount onto your fingers you brushed the cherry red gloss onto your lips, rubbing the rest into your cheeks to give your self a rosy glow. God you was pathetic you thought to yourself as you closed your compact mirror, the loud snap of it shutting inadvertently snapping you out of your pitiful attempts to look nice for him. But yet you continued in your endeavour to make yourself look more presentable as you pushed your fingers through your hair, taming your rebellious locks into something more orderly than the birds nest currently framing your face. Placing the folder under you arm you stood up heading for his office, head held high, summoning as much confidence as you could.

" I know you're up to something Thomas. Billy Kimber..." Polly was saying when you opened the door and she and Tommy turned to look at you.

" Sorry, I know you wanted these since the deadlines today" you said as you looked down at the documents in your hand stood between the door frame.

" Twenty minutes " Tommy replied taking out his watch as your shoulders dropped, his cold manner never ceasing to crush the small amounts of courage you could muster up nowadays. Rolling her eyes Polly walked over to you, pulling you in as she shut the door.

" Come on love, come in" she said with a smile as she took the file from you looking through it briefly when her eyes snapped up to Tommy. Clearing his throat Tommy fidgeted in his chair his eyes darting to his Aunt then back to the cigarette between his fingers.

" Pass me the diary Y/N" Tommy said shifting away from the formidable stare his Aunt was sending him. Was he seconds away from feeling the back of her hand like he did on a daily occurrence when he was a child? He thought to himself as her eyes pierced into him. Nodding you walked over to the shelves behind him as the fabric of your dress brushed against his leg, your perfume filled with notes of vanilla and jasmine quickly engulfing his senses, transporting him back to happier times. Leaning over you placed the large book in front of him as your hair slowly cascaded down to his face, swaying gently across his cheek, sending a shiver of goosebumps throughout his body. A sudden surge of emotions rushed towards him, catching him off guard as he briefly lost himself in the memories your presence conjured up.

" You can go" he said coldly, recomposing himself as he stubbed his cigarette out into the ash tray on his desk, his whole body stiffening at the intrusion of misplaced hurt now quickly filling his chest.

Turning around you walked to the door stopping momentarily as Polly curiously raised her brow, watching you as if she was anticipating a response. But no response came. Arthur was right, where was the girl you once was? That girl would have launched something at him, that or given him a kick in the balls. Instead you quietly closed the door behind you as you walked to your desk, deflated by his constant hostility towards you.

" You little shit!" Polly said throwing the documents she had been clutching tightly in her hand at Tommy the moment you shut the door. " These don't need filling out for another week. You had her stay all night!" she said placing both her hands on the table looming over her nephew" You can add scorned to your new founded personality Tommy" she hissed as she shook her head at him. "Not only do you remind her everyday of how wronged you feel, you won't let her move on. Keeping her here all hours, making her come in on the weekends, stopping all attempts of her ever being able to move on. You were so young, all you had to do was wait. But no, your stubbornness prevented that. And she waited for you Tommy oh did she wait, feeling guilty everyday for being mature on the matter, guilt forced upon her by you" she finished catching her breath, fed up with the way he had been acting. Standing up Tommy walked over to the window lighting a cigarette as he cleared his throat, the scolding he had just got from his Aunt unexpectedly unnerving him.

" You can go too" Tommy said dismissively as he looked out the window watching the busy streets below him while rubbing his brow with his thumb, feeling just as deflated as you.

" You're your own worse enemy" she said as she turned to face the door. "Oh and Tommy" she added as she looked over her shoulder at him. "That new barmaid you're seeing, I wouldn't count on her to piss on me if I was on fire" she said folding her arms as she left the office, leaving Tommy to wallow in his own self-pity.

Kicking the chair In front of him Tommy leaned back against the wall turning his head to look at you sitting at the desk just outside his office. Ten years ago today, did you think he'd forget. The promises he made the hopes and dreams you shared for the future. Polly's words had unsettled him, not because she was forcing him to remember but because it made him face the uncomfortable truth of how unfair he had been with you. You were too young, it was bad timing. That's what everyone said when Tommy asked you to marry him five days before leaving for France, a proposal you was sure he made on a complete whim. He had brought the ring, asked the priest, fuck he had even managed to scramble enough money together for a new suit. But you said no. Not because you didn't want to or because you didn't love him, but because his timing was bloody awful. He was days away from leaving to fight in a war that was claiming young men's lives every minute of every hour. Sure it was romantic, young couples were doing the very same thing up and down the country. But you wanted to wait, wanted to celebrate his return with something everyone could look forward to, something to hold onto as the lonely nights without him passed by. The last thing you wanted was to be left a newlywed and a widow, your nuptials stained by the possible outcome of him never returning. But Tommy being the stubborn man he was wouldn't accept your reasoning. He had quickly convinced himself you had been influenced by your family, by your friends, heck the whole of Small Heath for all he knew when you made him wait for your answer until the next day, popping the happy bubble you had both been living in for the past five years. Darting his eyes away from you Tommy clenched his jaw, leaning forward to grab his coat and diary on his desk as he stormed out his office. His bitterness was justified, you didn't love him the way he loved you, he was sure of it.

Five minutes until the end of the day and all you wanted to do was go home and sleep but being the good ol' sport you was you had agreed to go for drinks to celebrate Tommy's birthday.

As you all made your way to the door, Polly stood beside you casually speaking about her plans for the weekend you turned your head to the side to see Tommy stood right behind you, so close you could feel the heat of his breath on the back of your neck. Was this a new way he had chosen to make you feel uncomfortable? If it was it was certainly working you thought as you impatiently waited to leave. God what was taking John so long to open the door?

"It's bloody stuck again. It's this fucking weather it's freezing up the handle" John said as he rattled the doorknob trying to loosen it.

" Come on John give it a good push or are your hands too dainty?" Arthur shouted stood right behind Polly as she grimaced at his bellowing voice. A small traffic jam of people started to accumulate as everyone waited for John to get the door open, your bodies getting pushed closer together. With Tommy's firm statue now firmly pushed up against your back his eyes wandered down to your reddened cheeks, flushed from the contact of feeling him so close to you again. For just as much as your heart was rapidly beating so was Tommy's, the warmth of your body comforting in the only way that could.

" Bloody hell Curly" Uncle Charlie shouted as he stumbled into everyone pushing you all forward once more. Falling into you, Tommy quickly grabbed hold of your waist stopping you from stumbling over. His touch now so unfamiliar, your eyes darted down to his hand still resting on your hip as you watched his thumb instinctively brush over the curve of your body like he had done hundreds of times before. Suddenly realising, Tommy quickly moved his hand away as he cleared his throat.

" You was gonna fall" he said as you turned your head to the side in response to his sharp movements.

" Don't worry Tommy I wouldn't dare to think otherwise. We're done" you said surprised at how confidently the words had left your lips. Although not being completely honest with yourself, you had begun to realise you needed to stop, stop your constant lamenting over the past, stop your persistence in holding onto the faintest of hopes. Looking straight ahead you pushed your shoulder back, in turn pushing his body away from yours as you crossed your arms. You was getting tired of his shit. The remarks, the looks, his constant mood swings, enough was enough. Scoffing Tommy stepped back, giving you the space you clearly wanted as a small wave of self-doubt crept up on him in response. Had you moved on, met someone knew? Or had he taken things too far thinking you'd always be there waiting for him? The thought of either being true made him feel uncomfortably sick.

Now sat in the Garrison snug surrounded by Tommy's family and friends you looked up to see him sat directly in front of you, his arm draped over the back of the chair next to him, a scowl spread across his face. Trying to focus your attention elsewhere you ignored the constant glares he was sending your way, the words you had left him with clearly bothering his thoughts. He was getting impatient he wanted you to give him attention, wanted you to look his way. But every remark he made you would dismiss, unapologetically enjoying the growing confidence in you as you started playing the push and pull he had playing with you for the past year. That was until Grace walked in and sat next to him, snuggling into his side as Tommy fidgeted in his seat removing his arm from behind the chair as his whole body stiffened and he sat up straight. Feeling a sudden wave of nerves wash over you at the sight of them together your eyes quickly darted around the room when Arthur caught your line of sight sending you a wink and a smile, the self-doubt that was bubbling in your stomach quickly simmering down at the sight of his reassurance.

" Right a toast!" John said standing up as Arthur jumped up pushing him down by the shoulder.

" I'm the oldest, I do the toasting" he said lifting his glass as a sense of superiority rose within him. He may not be the boss but he was still the big brother and there were some things only big brothers did.

" Yeh whatever, just don't ramble on" John said as he rolled his eyes taking a sip of whisky.

" This time ten years ago on the eve of Tom's birthday..."

" Jesus Christ..." Polly mumbled under her breath as Arthur started his speech.

" I had just scored the biggest loot of of my life and Tommy the biggest win of his. A night never to be forgotten. To whisky, sprouts and cramped storage rooms. Happy Birthday baby brother!" Arthur finished, downing his drink then slamming it on the table as everyone looked at eachother mumbling happy birthdays whilst they raised their glasses in complete confusion at the meaning behind Arthur's toast. Looking up through hooded eyes Tommy caught your eye as you both sent eachother smile, the memories of that night flooding back to you both. Watching the moment between you Grace gripped harder onto Tommy's arm, uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you, the way she often caught him looking at you.

" What in the bloody hell was that toast?" John said as he looked up to Arthur, his whole face scrunched up, completely bewildered by his older brothers speech.

"Those that needed to hear it, heard it" Arthur said trying to sound poetic.

" Sit down Arthur" Polly said shaking her head as she poured herself a third glass of whisky.

" Anyway..." Grace said raising her brow turning to Tommy as she pulled out a small box from her bag. " Happy Birthday" she said kissing his cheek as she handed the gift to him. Putting his drink down Tommy cleared his throat as he sent her a faint smile, opening the present she had offered him. Looking down into the box Tommy's eyes quickly darted up to your face as he pinched his bottom lip. Furrowing your brow at his sudden change in expression, you quickly understood as to why he reacted the way he did when he pulled out a brand-new gold pocket watch from within the small box.

" Tom's already got a pocket watch, he's had it for ten years" Uncle Charlie was the first to say as he leant against the wall whilst the rest of the room suddenly went quiet.

" Exactly, ten years. I got him a new one, a nicer one" Grace said as you felt your heart suddenly drop into your stomach. " You not going to put it on?" She asked turning to Tommy as he nodded reaching into his waistcoat unclasping the watch you had scrimped and saved for a decade ago. Brushing his thumb over the front of it, you and everyone else watched as Tommy placed it on the table, glancing up to you and the tears now welling in your eyes.

" Thanks love" Tommy said attaching his new watch to the chain on his waistcoat, giving her a small peck to the lips as she smiled into the kiss.

" What are you doing?" She said as she watched Tommy turn the dials on his new watch back an extra five minutes, a habit ten years in the making first started by you. " It's five minutes too late" she laughed as she took it from him turning it to the correct time as Polly rested her hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze in reassurance as everyone else's eyes looked back at you knowingly. Picking up his old pocket watch Tommy was about to put it in his suit pocket when Grace quickly took it from him.

" I'll get rid of it, it's not like it's worth anything" she said whilst Tommy brushed his hand down his mouth as a heavy expression washed over his face. For ten years he had carried that watch against his body, ten years he had carried what felt like a piece of you with him. Its sentimental value was unmatched and Tommy did not want to be parted from it.

" I'll melt it down get some money from it" Arthur said reaching over the table grabbing it from her.

" You won't get much" she laughed as she looked around the room at everyone and the unamused expressions on their face, making it clear they did not share the same opinion. " It's scrap metal" she said as she shrugged her shoulders sipping on her whisky. Turning to Polly a tear fell down your cheek as you quickly collected you coat and bag into your lap.

" I need to leave" you said quietly as she nodded her head sympathetically, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Standing up you pulled your chair back when Tommy abruptly stood up at the same time taking everyone by surprise. Your eyes now locked onto eachother you momentarily stared at one another whilst he watched the cascade of tears fall down your cheeks.

" You bastard" you mouthed as Tommy swallowed harshly watching you storm out the room.

" Y/N wait up love, I'll walk you home" Arthur said climbing over the table not bothering to walk past everyone as glasses and bottles scattered all over the room. " Oops, sorry Grace" Arthur sniggered, clumsily treading on the end of her shoe as she yelped in pain.

" Arthur..." Tommy said as he watched his brother walk out the snug putting his old pocket watch in his coat, feeling like a part of his already broken heart had left.

" Y/N!" Arthur said running up to you. " Bloody hell when did you get so fast?" he joked as he spun you around.

" I can't... I can't do this any more" you said sobbing as you fell into his chest holding on tightly to the front of his coat as he wrapped his arms around you.

" Go on love let it out, have a good cry" he said sighing as he looked back to the Garrison. "You know it's my brotherly duty to give him a good punch in the balls now and then, he's long due one" he informed you as a small laugh escaped your sobbing cries.

" When you do, make sure you don't hold back" you said pulling away as he held onto your shoulders.

" You look like a snotty kid again" be said handing you a rag from his pocket which you furrowed your brow at.

" God knows where that's been" you sniffed throwing it on the ground beside you.

" Charming " he laughed as he pulled out Tommy's pocket watch. "Ere, this belongs to you" he said as he placed it in your hand.

" Melt it down Arthur, he doesn't want it. He has something new and shiny" you said bitterly, no longer reffering to watch but rather the barmaid constantly clinging onto him.

" Nah, don't believe it. He'll want it back, all of it." he said closing your fingers around it as you looked over his shoulder to see Tommy standing outside the Garrison watching you.

" Bye Arthur" you said as he turned to see his brother looking at you both, exhaling a cloud of smoke out into the bitter January air " Go, he's your brother, it's his birthday go celebrate with him" you said as you gave him a hug before you turned and headed for home.

"My watch?" Tommy asked as Arthur approached him, stopping to face his younger brother in the door way.

" You're breaking her heart you stubborn prick" Arthur said as he pushed past him ignoring his question as Tommy squinted into the distance, a frustrated sigh leaving his lips as he watched you turn the corner.

" She broke my heart first" Tommy muttered quietly under his breath as he threw his cigarette into the dirt heading back into the warmth of the Garrison.

Turning the corner onto the back alley of your bedsit you headed for home wiping your tears with the sleeve of your coat when you looked up to see two men blocking your way.

" Alright sweetheart?" One of them said as he turned to face you opening his coat to show you the gun he had sitting in his holster.

" I don't want any trouble let me pass" you said trying to move around him when he grabbed you, slamming you up against the brick wall.

" Tommy's girl right? He said, now holding tightly onto your arm as he looked to his friend for confirmation.

" No you've got the wrong girl" you said looking between them, shuffling in place as you tried to loosen yourself out of his grip.

" No, it's you alright. Said he had a girl waiting for him back in this shit hole of a town and that the barmaids Kimber's for the taking when he asked if he could dance with her at the races. Good thing he didn't bring you, 'cause I reckon Kimber would have rather had a dance with you instead" he said as he glared down at your body, brushing his tongue across his bottom lip. " Y/N right? Tommy's childhood sweetheart. No point in denying it love, everyone as far Kings Norton to Old Oscott have told us so" he said as you furrowed your brow in confusion. You hadn't been Tommy's girl since the war.

" I'm not his girl" you said stomping on his foot as you pushed past him.

" Jesus fucking christ! She's broken my toe, she bloody broke my toe! " he said as stumbled back onto the ground.

" It's definitely you, feisty little thing aren't you?" the other man said as he approached you leaving his friend to attend to himself. " We've heard whispers your boyfriend might be up to something. Tell him we're keeping our eye on him and if he doesn't play by the rules the boss will put a bullet through his head, but not before your gypsy lover watches you do the rounds with every single one of Kimber's men" he said as he opened his pocket knife in one swift movement, pointing it inches away from your throat. "Understood?" he said as you slowly nodded your head your eyes focused down at the blade now pressing against your skin and the burn of it slowly cutting into your flesh.

"Good" he said putting his knife back into his pocket as he turned to his friend leaning against the wall opposite you.

"She broke my fucking toe I'm sure of it"

" Would you quit your whining" his friend answered as he put his arm around his shoulder and they both turned the corner back onto the main street.

Leaning up against the cold brick wall you opened your coat as your chest heaved up and down your whole body trembling in fear. Turning your head you saw Isaiah one of Tommy's men at the end of the alley way watching you, his brow scrunched up in confusion at seeing Kimber's men leaving the same area where you was currently standing. Tipping the end of his cap to you, he glanced back at you a second time as he scratched the back of his head quickly walking off in the direction of the Garrison. Pulling your coat back around your body you stumbled along the cobbled path, your hand out against the brick wall beside you, keeping you up from your legs buckling beneath you as fear and adrenaline continued to course through your body. Fumbling in your bag you pulled out your keys as you watched your desperate attempts to open your front door, your shaking hands preventing you from even holding the key straight. Giving up you slid down the door collapsing onto the floor as a stream of tears fell down your cheeks, your mind replaying what had just happened. You knew of Tommy's dealing with Kimber, dealings you oversaw when Tommy got his own betting licence. That was supposed to be the end of it, but after what just happened you quickly realised Tommy had another plan, one that was not only putting his own life in danger again but yours too. Is that why he mentioned you to Kimber's men, not wanting to get his new fling in harm's way, his bitterness and hate towards you so strong he diverted their attention to you, diverted everyone's attention to you? Y/N Y/L/N Tommy Shelby's childhood sweetheart. Apparently he had the whole of Birmingham still thinking it, now a pawn in his never ending game for more power, more success. As you battled with all the questions running through your head you ended up at the same conclusion that not only did Tommy hate you he had let harm to come to you by putting you in the firing lane. Or had he? It had been a year since the command went out on the streets of Birmingham an order intended for your own protection decided long before any dealings with Kimber, a command that clearly hadn't gone unforgotten. You was not to be bothered not to be approached. No one was to lay a hand on you by order of the Peaky Blinders by order of Thomas Shelby, because you was still his girl, always.

NEXT PART

Tag list: @cosniffee @jonsncws @powellssaturn @jessimay89 @bruher @riseandreigns4u @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @chimchimjiminie16 @gaslysainz @calicoootalks (unable to tag) @weaponizedvirtue @vlryexsworld (unable to tag) @shittyprofilebutfuckit @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @peakyswritings

[sixosix]

hello!! this is my first time asking so forgive me if i do anything wrong.

so i just saw your event anddddd first of all, i just want to say congrats on 5k!!! and also happy birthdayy!! if its not a bother, can i participate in the event?? if so heres the prompt,

[lyney, earphones(the wired ones), fluff]

your thawed series really made me fall in love with the way you write lyney😭 and because of that, i want to read more of him from you!!

once again, congrats on 5k!!

a/n HELLO ANON!!! thank you so much + dont worry u sent an ask right! im so happy u like my characterization of lyney hehe hes just a silly guy…

info 500 words, short and sweet, modern college au

5K EVENT SPECIAL | EVENT MASTERLIST

Lynette texted you this morning saying that she had a fever.

Usually, this wouldn’t have been a problem. Get well soon! or an I’ll send you the notes later would be the end of the conversation. Then you’d go on with your day and miss her, but that would be it. That was supposed to be it.

But it was Lynette. And if she was involved—

“Hey.” Lilac eyes overtook your vision, shockingly close. You jumped back, and Lyney grinned. “Are you still texting my sister? I’m right here, you know.”

Lynette You’ll be fine

You LYHBEDTTE

Lynette He’s just Lyney

You EXACTLY WHY

This was a problem because you had been nursing the biggest crush on Lynette’s brother since you met her—and it’s been years. The color of his eyes, the softness of his hair, the crinkle of his eyes as he smiles—

“I’m telling her I wish she were here instead,” you said, hiding your screen from his sharp eyes.

Lyney wasn’t fazed at all. He matched your steps and easily walked alongside you, his lips stretched into a wide grin. He was so suspiciously happy today.

“Are we going to take the bus there?” Lyney asked, his arms still brushing against yours. His chin was tucked in his windbreaker, muffling his words a little. He looked a little red—did he have a fever as well?

“I guess so,” you said, dragging your gaze away from the sight. You could hear your heartbeat racing.

Lyney’s smile softened, then gestured at the bus stop bench. “It’s still early. Let’s sit over there.”

It was empty, yet when you sat at the far edge, Lyney still cozied up beside you. Seeking refuge, you hid your face further in the safety of your hoodie. This was bad. Lynette rarely got sick; this was your first time alone with Lyney, and you didn’t know how to act.

When you glanced at him, Lyney seemed content with the silence. You weren’t—you could hear the loud thumps of your chest, and soon enough, Lyney would notice it, too.

You pulled out your earphones and swiped to the highest volume possible, ear damage be damned. You were not going to survive today. You’re going to embarrass yourself and make a fool of your impressions, and Lyney would get weirded out and avoid you for the rest of his life.

Your throat made some sort of warbling deflated noise as music drowned out your heartbeat, but not your thoughts. Why was Lyney so warm? Even with layers of clothing, you could feel the heat of his skin, and it was driving you mad. You wanted nothing but to curl into it like a cat with sunlight. Why did Lynette have to get sick while you were still hopelessly infatuated with her brother?

Abruptly, Lyney’s head found its way to your shoulder. Stunned, you sucked in a breath, overwhelmed with all the sensations. Your five senses were being violated left and right—all you could see, hear, and touch was Lyney.

He reached his hand out expectantly. You made a noise of confusion, then belatedly realized what he was pointing at. Careful not to jostle him, you plucked an earphone and gently placed it in his ear. Lyney flinched.

“This is loud,” Lyney chuckled, but he didn’t ask you to mess with the volume. He laid back down with his weight and stayed there, unaware of how your face was a flaming mess.

Your eyes slipped to your lap, feeling shy. From this angle, it was hard to tell what Lyney was looking at, but you could feel his smile. It could be Lyney’s unnaturally warm body heat or your burning embarrassment, but— maybe you were starting to feel feverish as well.

Lyney snuggled closer. You sighed and resigned yourself to a long day.

[1k1ga1]

Hello hope you are doing well, I am not quite sure if you are taking requests but if you are could you please write Yandere Deon hart i'm not that kind of talent

❝𝑇𝑂𝐺𝐸𝑇𝐻𝐸𝑅 , 𝐴𝑇 𝑆𝐾𝑌𝐹𝐴𝐿𝐿…❞

━━ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 💭 𝐈’𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓

━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 💭 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐗 𝐆𝐍 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 💭 18+ , 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 , 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 , 𝐓𝐎𝐗𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐏 , 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 never had the time to truly give the idea of a romantic relationship any thought. he’s a busy man, having grew up in a disorganized family and forced into the army at a young age, all that he had ever known was the cruelty of others and the rustic scent of blood. even when he crawled his way into the hero’s group, there was only ever more bloodshed and sacrifices. he’s only ever been exposed to war, not the affection which one shares with their lover.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 honestly expected his life to stay that way. what he doesn’t know can’t hurt him, and having never experienced the gentleness of a lover, he never cared much to yearn for one. he already has his hands full enough with playing spy for both the lunatic emperor and the clingy demon king, all whilst trying to survive. it’s not like he’d ever have time to fall in love with anyone, right? well, that’s what he thought, until you came along.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 singled you out from the rest of his subordinates immediately. you had been assigned as his assistant. you, a demon that could easily overpower a weak human like him. you, a demon that was supposed to be bloodthirsty and cruel. and yet despite being a demon, he’s never met anyone as perfectly human as you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 thinks you’re more human than demon when you smile at him so sweetly, exchanging kind gestures every now and then as an appreciation to your commander. you’re always going out of your way to take care of those around you, always smiling and complimenting and humming with that ridiculously melodious voice, the same voice that would call out his name so excitedly. you were never like the other demons who were constantly seeking to test their powers against him or were blindly subservient to him, although you didn’t quite see him as an equal either. you simply saw him as someone who “works hard and has a respectable work ethic. someone admirable.”

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 fell hopelessly in love with you right then and there, a metaphorical pink cupid’s arrow shooting through his heart at just how absolutely precious you are. it truly baffles the commander just how you could manage to be so wholesome despite hailing of the demon race.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 finds himself quietly pining for you after that moment. he’s not very experienced with the concept of crushing on someone or falling in love, therefore he’s absolutely clueless on what to do with his feelings or how to act on it. he doesn’t know what course of action he should take, and it’s not as if he could just ask one of the demons for advice. he’s left completely in the dark, yet there was still an instinctual human need to be closer to the object of his affection, and so the commander finds himself loitering around where he would usually spot you, hoping to catch a glimpse of your sparkling smile within the nest of havoc.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is satisfied with just catching glimpses of you for a while. it’s enough for him that he could see your smile almost everyday, that is until you pick up on his regular appearances around the places you often visit and instead of calling him out on it or attempting to murder him, you instead invited him to chat with you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 slowly but surely grew on you, and your little chats with your commander here and there gradually grew into longer conversations with topics focusing more on yourselves than the fleeting events around you. on some days, you even find yourself loitering in your commander’s room late into the night to continue whatever deep conversation the two of you were having. occasionally, you’d fall asleep and spend your night in his room, and deon never had the heart to disturb you, so he just let you be. although more often than not, the moment you’re asleep, deon finds himself quietly admiring you. he doesn’t do anything more than that at first, merely noting the way you breath and the murmurs you would say sleepily. it was honestly just heartwarming to him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 considers you his close friend after all that time the two of you spent conversing and learning more about each other. you’re his friend, so he wants you to stay closer to him and spend more time with him. you’re his friend, so he wants you to move your room closer to his’. you’re his friend, so he wants you to always stay by his side every minute of the day. you’re his friend, so it’s fine if he gets a little possessive, right?

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is an over thinker. who could blame him after all the horror he’s had to witness in his youth? he’s always been surrounded by people with ill intentions, those seeking to use him and those seeking to ruin him, yet in the midst of the chaos, there was you; a shining beacon of benevolence, practically heaven-sent with your generosity and beaming smile. yes, that’s right, you really must be an angel. an angel sent just for him, your touch just for him, your voice just for him, your smile just for him — it’s not as though anyone else in this world could be deserving of you.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 develops some odd habits after that realization. sure, he might’ve grown closer to you, but he never found the chance to express his feelings, and they’ve only grown deeper after the two of you became friends. his heart is untamed and clumsy, like a toddler handed destructive power when it barely knew how to walk. he doesn’t see the wrong in manipulating you to constantly stay by his side because “his body is still weak from the battle with the hero.�� you’re his angelic friend, so there’s no way you could leave him be when he’s unhealthy, right? you’re always so generous too, so you won’t mind if he snag some trinkets from your room for safe keeping either, right?

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 develops these habits unconsciously, half the time not even realizing what he’s doing before it’s already done. perhaps it’s a true testament to how deep his feelings run for you to the point that he doesn’t even realize that he’s acting on it.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is still inexperienced, but if by chance he somehow confesses to you about his true feelings, and if you were to accept, than expect his behavior to grow tenfold. deon will get more protective of you. he completely disregards wether you can protect yourself or not, it’s better if he is the one to protect you. oh, and those demon friends of yours, it’s better if you distance yourself from them too, they’re no good influences on your mind. if you don’t listen to his advice the first time, deon has no qualms using his title as the commander to seal those demons manipulating you behind a cell.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 usually doesn’t act on a whim with violent tendencies, but doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty if it’s for his beloved’s benefit. you’ve become the center of his world the moment you accepted his affection, so there’s no way he’d allow anything or anyone to ever lay a hand on you with ill intent.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 is exceptionally needy. he’s constantly clinging to you, seeking for affection like a touch-starved puppy. it’s almost as if he’s seeking out the affection that he couldn’t receive during his childhood, and just who are you to reject his advances when he sadly tells you the story of his past? deon has no problems guilt-tripping you into accepting his affectionate hold, and you’re just too kind for your own good.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐓 believes you can do no wrong. it’s not as if you’re a troublemaker like the other demons he’s been forced to meet in the first place, but deon’s so convinced that you must be some perfect saint that he practically worships you. in his eyes, you can do no wrong, but anyone who does you wrong can expect to have a glinting blade swiping at their neck when they least expect it. whatever you say or do is law, and deon will be the faithful servant who carries out your will

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓, his other personality that was crafted upon his insatiable bloodlust and ruthlessness, needs some time to adjust to your presence, however he’s more or less the same as the usual deon when he’s not faced with an enemy. demon arut is definitely more protective and controlling of you, always making you the first priority whenever a battle arises. he needs to keep you in his range of sight or else the he goes absolutely mad trying to find you, destroying anything that hinders his path.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓 is more sadistic than your usual commander. unlike deon who cares about your image of him and therefore has placed some restraints on himself, demon arut has no such concerns. he openly likes to tease you, almost going overboard with it because he likes getting any kind of reaction from you. he won’t intentionally be malicious towards you, he still loves you after all. however, if you receive a few cuts and bruises from battle or the likes, he will mock your competence and press on a few bruises, only after he’s made a bloody mess of the perpetrator who dared to touch an inch of your body.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓 will insist that you train with him so you can polish your skills. as a demon, you’re not lacking by any means, probably even better than the strength of five soldiers combined, however that doesn’t mean that you stand a chance against him. demon arut has beaten entire armies by his lonesome, so don’t be too disappointed when you fail for the nth time. he won’t praise you often, however, he will go easier on you compared to his unrelenting nature on the battlefield. although, it’s not as if you would ever need to put these skills to use and lift even a finger, he’ll always have you as his first priority to protect and get to safety.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐔𝐓 is, like his name suggests, a demon. a demon who’s cruel and bloodthirsty and a hundred times more possessive and easily jealous. he won’t hesitate to make an example out of one of your comrades by gutting them in front of you if you get to chummy with them. well, he won’t hesitate to make an example out of anyone really, even his fellow commanders as long as he gets it through that cute head of your’s what lengths you’re capable of pushing him to.

━━ ✧ 𝐈𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍, you’re basically holding onto the reins of a catastrophe that could take empires by storm, just be careful not to take your eyes off him for too long or that storm might just ruin you… although, it’s not as if he’d particularly care for your opinion on this matter. the two of you are lovers now, so it’s only right that you never part. even if the sky falls and the world is coming to and end, even in life and in death, the two of you will always be together, deon hart will make sure of it.

[xnchxntmxnt]

hurt comfort with the astarion guy pls I don't don't know anything about the game I've just seen clips of him on youtube and I love him

you aSK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE i love him

Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine

Character: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)

Warnings: reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol (reader doesn’t drink), general astarion backstory information but it’s nothing super specific. not proofread

Notes: almost cried writing this. im sorry. anyway I'm a hozier lover what else is new.

gn reader

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Astarion stared at the fire, leaning back against one of the boxes under his tent. There was something serene about this area—they’d never been attacked at camp, and it comforted him to know he could let his guard down somewhere. If only slightly. 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you walking up to him until you spoke. 

“Astarion?” you asked, voice softer than he expected. “Are you alright?”

He must have looked upset—he didn’t need your pity, though, so he tried to shake himself back to reality. “What can I do for you, my dear?” he asked, sitting up a bit straighter and taking a sip of the ale next to him. 

You paused, looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed slightly, then finally decided to sit next to him. He offered the ale but you declined. Instead, you turned your body to face him and slowly, gently, brushed a bit of hair out of his face. 

And he flinched. 

You quickly pulled your hand away from him and rested it in your lap. He stared, wide-eyed, terrified of his own actions. He’d inflicted pain on countless others and never felt guilt for it, but such a simple gesture broke him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice small and quiet. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Astarion was always so eccentric, so proud, so…unafraid. This was an entirely new side to him, and he was even more embarrassed to show it to you. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide, but he didn’t have the energy to make his feet move. To make anything move. 

There was a beat of silence, where the two of you only listened to the crackling fire a few feet away. Then, you spoke. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

He didn’t understand how you could be so kind to him. There were so many things wrong with him as a person, or things from his past—he’d hurt people, tricked them, found ways for dear Cazador to turn them into mindless little puppets. Like he was, before all this mindflayer business. 

There was so much wrong in the world, and there you sat. His ray of sunshine—his hope. Somehow with you, things seemed a little less dreary. True, there was some mystical dream-being that followed you around keeping everyone from sprouting tentacles, so that was something positive. But your general disposition, the way you smiled at him when you caught him staring at you, the way you snuck away from the rest of camp with him to watch the stars…all these things made him fall so hopelessly in love. 

He couldn’t be that person for you, though. He never learned how to make big, romantic gestures or show his affection in a way that made sense. A way that made sure you knew he adored you in your best and worst moments. Cazador had ruined him—he’d ruined any semblance of having a normal life. On top of being a vampire spawn and ripped away from his life before, he was stuck in an endless loop of servitude and puppetry or constantly fearing for his life. He never learned or could afford, to just relax. You deserved someone who could love you whole-heartedly, not the monster he’d become. 

“I care for you so, so deeply, my dear,” he all but whispered, voice tight with emotion. 

“I know.”

“I cannot, for the life of me…” he trailed off, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I cannot understand why you care for me.”

His head hung low; you stared at him, shocked and unsure how to react to his words. He felt embarrassed, he felt small—there was nothing he could do, it seemed, to pull himself out of this rut he had himself stuck in lately. 

Then he heard your words. 

“Can I hug you, Astarion?”

He glanced over to you, seeing teh pleading look in your eyes. You’d asked. Maybe that made him feel a little more normal, a little less messed up. Hesitantly, he leaned into your embrace. The moment he felt the warmth of your arms around him, though, he melted. He laid his head on your chest, his full weight falling into you exponentially by the second. And with it, he began to cry. 

It was heart-wrenching sobs that felt like someone stabbing him through the heart every time, but he couldn’t mistake the comfort of your hands running through his hair. The soothing, repetitive motion calmed his nerves more than he thought possible. After what felt like ages, he began to sit up, trying to put himself back together like that hadn’t just happened. His eyes looked slightly irritated, but he tried desperately to wipe any evidence of his outburst from his face—

Suddenly, he felt your hands around his face, thumbs running over his cheeks. He stopped—his hands slowly fell, and he relaxed into your embrace once again. 

“You do not have to apologize for feeling things, Astarion,” you said softly. “And you certainly don’t have to hide from me. Not your thoughts, not your emotions.”

He nodded, turning his head slightly to the side to kiss the palm of your hand. His voice was hoarse but surprisingly gentle. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the thing. You do.”

He smiled softly—it had been a long time since he felt like he could do so freely. 

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