#lithuania x reader

[definitelynotanalien]

As the World Burns

Chapter 1: A whole new world

Masterlist

You were exasperated. Not only because of the certain obnoxious albino in front of you, but because of the time.

No one likes to be late to their job, and you were certainly no exception. Maybe you could’ve left the house a few minutes earlier, but if it weren’t for an accident then you would be right on time.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You uttered to the man in front of you. He was blocking your way, what were you supposed to do. And he wasn’t even blocking it to do something important, he seemed to just stand there for fun. Like actually. Whenever you tried to push through him (and his rather toned body) he blocked you.

The albino giggled, “Then let’s take a selfie.”

At those fairly inconic words, you finally recognised the man. He was the man, the myth, the legend, Prussia (of course you only knew this due to a random thirst trap that appeared on your for you page).

Prussia was more devious then you expected, To tell the truth, he looked like a demon. He had pale skin, hair as white as snow, and blood red eyes. As well as having a rather sharp face.

“What.” You finally said.

“You wanted a picture, ja~”

“That’s not what i meant…”

“i know that!”

Prussia looked rather mischievously at you. He wore a smirk and a weird blue outfit. It was fashionable but rather odd to be wearing day to day.

“As much as i’d love to continue this banter, i have to get to work.”

What a smart response, you applauded yourself and walked off. Of course based off his status as a country, and your status as an intern, you would probably see him again.

✦ ⟵⟶ ✦

“Hold the door.” Someone exhaustively requested, from very far outside the elevator door.

As you could not be bothered to be rude, you held said door.

“Thanks,” an exasperated man walked in, “I hope i wasn’t a bother.”

As yes, others with low self esteem. Not a challenge you haven’t faced before.

“lol it’s fine.”

“Did you just use ‘lol’ in verbal language?”

The brunette asked, his shoulder length locks falling upon his shoulders. The man had dazzling green eyes, ones that could reflect your soul. He had a bit of a crooked back, perhaps from hours of manual labour. He wore a neat suit, not unlike your own. The man was beautiful, to put it short. And probably another country, although you couldn’t put your finger on which one.

He looked european due to his features, perhaps France dyed his hair and got contacts?

You could have probably identified his accent, but one may be lazy every once and a while.

“Yes.”

There was a pregnant pause,

“Okay…”

fknfjsmd

The man stared at you like you were the moon, if the moon was a crazy, well dressed gremlin who didn’t bother to learn proper english.

The rest of the elevator ride was spent in uncomfortable silence.

[milkemim]

Day 14: Outdoor Lights

im late again eee

WC: 842

Link to all chapters

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Today is December 14th. Russia has put four people to work and enslaved them to make his front yard look pretty and festive. These people were Estonia, Lithuania, Latvia and [Name]. Not only did they have to decorate, they also had to shovel the snow and ice off to make it look neater. Thankfully that part was already done, even if it took a while.

Latvia and [Name] had temporarily gone inside to find the lights from the storage. Russia had a lot of stuff and other trinkets, and all the boxes looked pretty much the same, so it was harder than anticipated, but they did eventually find it. They quickly ran back outside to avoid getting a lecture from their mean host.

“We found it, guys!” Latvia says, running over to Estonia and Lithuania, who had been anxiously waiting and planning out where to hang the lights and in what order. He puts the cardboard box down on the ground and quickly starts to put his gloves and hat on to avoid the freezing cold.

“Finally! You were gone for forever, we thought Russia got to you…” Lithuania worries and opens the box, to see a horrifying, but mostly just annoying, truth. “It’s all tangled…” he sighs.

“Best get to work!” [Name] smiles cheerfully and sits down on the snow.

“How can you be so relaxed about this…?” Estonia quietly wonders.

“Because they don’t have to worry about being torn to pieces for taking too long,” Latvia says and glares at [Name], “It’s unfair! Unfair!”

“Don’t be so loud or big, bad Russia will get you, kid~” [Name] ruffles Latvia’s head over the hat, making it go over his eyes.

“Eek!” He quickly adjusts it and pulls a tangled mess of cords.

Lithuania sighs and sits down as well, giving [Name] a look, “Don’t scare him,” He says.

All four begin to try to efficiently untangle all the cords.

“I really hope we get this done before dark…” Estonia whimpers.

“Me too…”

“Me too.”

“Me too.”

It takes a little while, trying not to break the delicate cords from all the pulling. It was also an extremely irritating task to the mitten-wearing half of the group, but eventually they got it all done.

“Me and Estonia will handle making sure the bulbs work as supposed to, so you two can hang them up however you were planning to.” [Name] says to Lithuania and Latvia, standing up and pulling Estonia with them.

“Okay, good luck.” Lithuania smiles at them and starts telling the plan he had made with Estonia to Latvia. “I hope it will be good enough for Mr. Russia…”

Estonia and [Name] walk over to where they had planned to set up all the cables. “So, how old are these lights?” [Name] asks.

“I don’t know… Too old. Every year they’re in worse and worse condition, but Mr. Russia refuses to get new ones as long as they still look fine.” Estonia answers.

“Maybe you just need to persuade him a little more?”

“No thank you.”

The two connect everything and prepare to turn it on. “Now we just have to hope neither Latvia or Lithuania get electrocuted.” [Name] says, ready to switch the power on.

“Maybe we should yell out a warning first?” Estonia looks at them, a little worried.

“Too late!” They press on the switch, watching as it all lights up. Well, most of it lights up. The two walk over to get a better look.

“You guys could’ve given a little warning first! That was scary.” Lithuania complains to the two.

“Estonia’s fault.” [Name] points to Estonia.

“Hey, what??” Estonia looks at them.

“Lithuania! Come help me already!” Latvia cries out, struggling with the cable that he was trying to put in its place.

“Ah! I completely forgot, sorry!” He runs over and helps him set it up.

Estonia and [Name] also help with the rest of the preparations of setting the lights up. It didn’t take long with four people on the case.

“Hmm… All we need to do is replace the lightbulbs that didn’t light up, right? Easy.” [Name] says.

“Yes, but we’ll need to go buy some.”

“Wow! It’s beautiful, I love it!” A new voice makes everyone flinch and turn to it. Russia was here!

“M-Mr. Russia! It’s almost done, we promise!” Lithuania stutters.

“Good job, everyone,” Russia smiles and ignores him, “I think you all deserve a treat for your hard work. Let’s all go inside and eat something good and warm together. Oh, and thank you for helping Lithuania, Latvia and Estonia out, [Name].” He pulls them into a hug, which they reciprocate.

“It was no problem! Thanks for having me. Do I get to join you for dinner as well?” They smile.

“Of course.”

And so, the day came to a close. Russia had insisted on keeping the lights like they were now, since he said he was going to buy new ones for next year and would like to use all the leftover light from the current lights.

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Closer

note: just a random soft little fic on this friday evening. did I proof read? not really.

warnings: 18+ fluff/suggestive.

pairing: Sihtric x fem!reader (no use of Y/N)

summary: Your husband woke from a nightmare.

word count: 700 (she a short bitch, like the author)

Masterlist

Reblogs & comments are immensely appreciated.

Sihtric's hand slowly searched underneath the furs, in need of comfort and a reminder of his safety. The warmth of your body kissed his fingertips before even reaching your bare skin, and he carefully traced your figure once he found you. You, his wife, were peacefully asleep close to him, but not as close as Sihtric wanted and needed you to be. 

Another night terror had awoken him as it had tried to suffocate him in his sleep. His subconscious had brought him back to a past battle, one during which he had nearly lost his life. And he felt relief after waking up with a shock and finding himself in bed, next to you, where he always wanted to be.

You were always next to him, he knew that, ever since you married you were always by his side unless he had to go to war. But the days of fighting were long gone, something Sihtric also knew. But those nightmares always seemed too real, and they always made for a lingering fright that lasted for hours after waking up.

And so Sihtric searched for you with his eyes closed, after he chuckled to himself rather nervously, wanting to shake off the fear his nightmare had caused. You were surrounded by the safety of Dunholm's walls while the sun had still not risen, and despite the knowledge that nothing and no one could hurt him in that very moment, your husband still needed to feel you close in order to be sure he was safe. He needed you closer than you already were. So he gently snuck his arm around your waist and pulled your back against his naked chest, leaving no space at all between your bodies. 

The sudden movement woke you up, causing you to mumble something under your breath as you felt your husband holding you ever so tightly in bed, under the warm and cosy furs.

'Hm?' you hummed, barely awake, 'what is it?'

Sihtric hushed you softly, his warm breath caressing your cheek as his lips brushed lovingly against your ear.

'It's nothing, my love,' he whispered in the quiet darkness, not wanting to concern you.

You woke up a little more from your drowsy state as you felt his arm tighten around your waist. You began to recognize the strength in his grip, and you knew all too well what it meant.

'Another bad dream, darling?' you asked, a little concerned.

'Yes,' Sihtric said softly, 'But it's fine. I'm fine.'

'You might be fine,' you chuckled sleepily, 'but I won't be if you keep squeezing me like this.'

'I'm sorry,' your husband chuckled lightly and loosened his grip, 'I just needed to feel you close. I didn't mean to wake you up.'

'I am always close,' you whispered and took his hand, pressing a gentle kiss on the back of it.

'I know,' Sihtric said and buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent before slowly nuzzling your skin, 'I just needed you a little closer.'

You smiled at that and clasped your hands around his after you kissed the back of his hand once more.

'I can't get any closer than I am now,' you said.

'Is that so?' Sihtric whispered teasingly.

He snuck his hand out between yours and lightly traced his fingertips across your sides and down to your hip.

'I think you are too sleepy for that, darling,' you giggled, your cheeks heating up involuntarily.

'I think I am just awake enough for that, darling,' Sihtric chuckled.

He grabbed your hip to keep you in place while he slowly grinded his groin against your bare buttocks. You let out a soft and pleased gasp upon feeling how needy your husband exactly was, and you turned to face him. It was still dark, but the silver moonlight allowed you to catch glimpses of his face and his loose messy hair while he pulled you on top of him. 

And nothing would ever be sweeter than knowing that the one man who makes you feel safe and protects you at all costs needs you to slowly ride him in the dead of night, to ease his mind after a nightmare.

@mrsarnasdelicious @neonhairspray @sihtricsafin @errruvande @penumbrie @lexeirikrleif @diiickbrainn @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @bubblyabs @dixie-elocin @alexagirlie @stupiddarkkside @urmomsgirlfriend1 @gemini-mama @foxyanon @man-i-be-that-pretty-motherfuckr @thenameswinter99 @m-a-s-h-k-a @superblyzanynight @hernakedmuse @ewanmitchellfanatic @lady-targaryens-world @cosmosnkaz

[soavk]

Always forever

Summary: you and Lukas go out for a walk before a pre party but when you come back one of the band members is going crazy about you two

Warnings: none just fluff

A/N: I think I made the summary corny idk just read

translations: tu toks mielas kai nerviniesi - your so cute when you’re nervous, sékmés - good luck

You didn't expect to get this job really. Being their tour manager felt like a dream, planing their Eurovision parties and concerts with them was amazing, I always try to stay on track.

but one person in the group stood out to me. Lukas. He's always flirty with me and Alanas keeps saying he likes me but I don't believe that, I do like him, I honestly think his whole personality is fascinating to me.

"Hey, you wanna come with me?"

“.. where are you going I thought your show starts in an hour?"

"It does but I wanted to take a walk in the city before the show.. so??"

"oh sorry yeah."

Following Lukas outside you never really noticed how pretty the city of London was. Always thought it had been cold but it was warm with a tiny breeze flowing through the air.

"it's beautiful out here." You said looking at him

He looked over at you staring deep in your eyes like he was looking for something "what??" Playfully trying to hide your nervousness

"tu toks mielas, kai nerviniesi" he laughs off

"I'm not nervous!" you shoot back, trying to sound convincing. But the way his eyebrow raises tells you he doesn't buy it, you feel the breeze shift your weight feeling the tension in the air.

"Sure.. keep telling yourself that."

જ⁀➴

Once you both made it back you and Lukas ran into Alanas but before you could say anything he was making jokes about you both would run off with each other all the time

"No we don't?" "Remember the pre party at Paris? You two ran off an hour before we started" he was dying of laughter, making jokes about you guys secretly dating.

"You guys go on in 3 minutes!" You said walking into the green room where the others were, Lukas just got done tuning his guitar while the others were still tuning theirs.

Sitting down next to him you put a hand on his shoulder, "Aren't you nervous?"

"Kinda.. I don't get anxious much" he states "you guys are at 1 minute now!" you stood up seeing everyone was done with their guitars

"have fun!!"

Before Lukas left you tap him on the shoulder and gave him a kiss looking at him you say "sékmés!Byee"

Turning him around and pushing him out the door. You could tell he was blushing by how he was speechless.

[yawujin]

Ok what about Romano, Prussia & Lithuania being called daddy by their s/o while fucking? I’m so curious about their reaction. Very Gilbert centric on this one cause the thought of him being the whorish&repressed older brother makes me feral.

i was very curious about how they'd react, too, so it took me a bit to think 💭 here you go anon ;p <3

{ request } hetalia men react to being called "daddy" ˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

type • smut , nsfw content , react , headcanons , imagine , they/them pronouns used

romano ♥︎

he likes it. being called such names during sex really turns him on. his tawny skin flushes a deep red as he shuts his eyes tight, focusing on the way his partner says it, how they sound as he fucks them harder, rougher. "say it again." he tells them. he wants to hear it more and more, before it's all over and they both finish.

prussia ♥︎

ohoho, so it's like that, huh? it kind of ignites something in him. that spark that he thought he lost a long time ago. it really reminds him of how tough he used to be before he started masking with his unserious and chaotically charismatic persona. he thinks that if his partner is calling him this, he must be doing something right. his s/o must be careful with how often they call him 'daddy', or that power might get to his head.

lithuania ♥︎

the more his partner calls him this, the more confidence he gains. sometimes he feels like he really doesn't know how to initate, so he always keeps in mind how good he feels when they call him that. it's like a cheat code to get him to pound the shit out of his partner, especially if they use that name when things are getting more heated, and desperate.

[shini--chan]

Yandere Character Sheet I

1p Lithuania: Tolys Laurinaitis

A continuation of the Baltics hcs ask

Trigger warnings: kidnapping, controlling behaviour, poisoning, isolation, neglect, battery, mind games, murder

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

First and foremost, he is possessive. During his whole life, Tolys has had to struggle to hold fast to what he considers his, with circumstances inflicting hardship after hardship on him, he has a vice grip on what he considers his. To him, you would be a person that he would have to keep safe from all the dangers of the world, and in turn, he would be a safe haven to him where he can be rid of his emotional baggage. And like any hot tip, he'll want to ensure that as few people as possible know of your existence, not even mentioning your virtues. Why should he have to share you with other people? After everything that he has endured, doesn't he deserve a person that he can consider wholly his own? 

In total, he is also frugal. Demands for expensive jewellery and exotic holidays will be met with raised eyebrows. Are you a golddigger? That would be the question that would come to mind. To him, life is more than material possessions, and it reflects in his lifestyle. If anything, you'll have to conform to his morals and way of life. Any compromises that you demand he participate in wouldn't be regarded well. Are you trying to manipulate him? Likewise, excessive flattery and unexpected gifts would be seen as you buttering up to him because you want something from him, not because you sincerely like him. Should you give him a present, the gesture would be appreciated more than the actual gift itself. 

This all is conjoined by his controlling tendencies. Tolys is not a controlling or domineering character in total, it isn't in his personality. Rather, the need from control stems from a need to ensure he isn't oppressed or used. By taking the reins in his hands and holding them in vice-grips, he would intend to prevent something like that ever happening again. On top of that, he would be so scared of you leaving. Looking for any warning signs and acting accordingly when they appear would help him in preventing you from leaving. Having you under his total control would give him reason to relax a bit - but even then it would never be fully, since he would constantly suspect that you think ill of him, and want to leave. It would just be a part of him that is never fully able to buy into true happiness. If everything is alright and dandy, then it is either just a facade or trouble is lurking around the corner.

Tolys would also be very connected with nature. Don't worry, it wouldn't be along the veins of the industrialised and overhyped nature fetish, but the sort where he could simply walk into the forest and live a somewhat comfortable life for the next few years. It would be a life he would love to share with you. With the cottage being deep in the woods, you wouldn't really have a chance to escape. Should you nevertheless contemplate running away, then he could scare you with stories of packs of wolves and hungry bears.

You would be dependent on him, since a life off the grid is hard and unfamiliar to modern humans. With all the tasks you would have to complete, you would have enough to distract you. The upkeep of the household would keep you busy, especially with the absence of a lot of electric appliances. It would also teach you that you can't survive without him and that you need each other. Providing acts of service would also be how he would show his "love" for you. You would have to get used to it, because, else he wouldn’t be really forthcoming when it comes to affection. Rarely would he give you heartfelt smiles, or words of affection, in part because he would have become reserved when it comes to such things over the years, and because he wouldn’t want to be viewed as soft or weak by you. In a way, he needs to be needed, because if he is useful to you, if you can’t live without him, then you can’t discard him and you’ll be forced to stay by his side.  

Cornering - How would they get you?

Tolys would know his desires and wants regarding you would be amoral, but he would find a thousand and one ways to justify his own vices to himself. Still, he would do the courting in a traditional way in the hopes of soothing his fears and obsessions. Flowers, dates at cool locations, doing sports together, winning and dining with you - all cutsey couple things meant to advertise his suitability to you and lure you in. The trap would spring when you would be in close enough; or in the case that you would try to leave him prematurely. 

Eitherway, it would be very cliche - drugging you and then bringing you to a secondary location, or breaking and entering and tieing you up. Should you make him angry, then he would stage the whole affair in a way that would make you think he is a serial killer: Ski-mask and daggers and hateful words - he would leave you awake and aware for the whole ride, maybe even dragging you out the car by your hair once you arrive at your new home. 

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

He would want you to idolise him. Above everything else, he would yearn for somebody that would see him as their personal hero, and he would do a lot to create such an image in your mind. This would be part of the courting phase, where he would do his best to show off all his skills, and also have a few third parties brag about his achievements to you. Afterwards, the need for this would grow all the more - he would want you to cling to him at night, to seek his approval in the most minor matter (but still be a person with independence and agency). It would tie in to the fact that he would desire you to be needy. Oh, sometimes he would wish to have alone time, but distance makes the heart grow fonder, and it would stroke his ego immensely to have you throw yourself in his arms when he comes back to you. 

A person with his levels of introvertedness and vulnerability would also be an important requirement. The only person you should confide in, the only person you should trust, should be him. You should be closed off to the rest of the world, and only in him find a person that you can confide in. He, Tolys Laurinaitis, should be the only person around whom you discard all your masks and show your true colours. That should be an honour that is reserved for him and him alone. 

Along the same vein, he would require you to be honest with him. Now, there are people that go through life saying nothing but the truth while still being deceitful. That is something that he would loath - you’re to be open with him, communicative and honest. It would also be in your best interest - without him second guessing all your words, his paranoia would flare up less often. You wouldn’t have to bat away accusation after accusation, and life would generally be easier. Heavens, he would prefer it if you would say you hate him to his face instead of plastering false smiles on your face while holding a knife behind your back. Honesty would make it easier for him to adjust his treatment to you, and he wouldn’t suffer the feeling of walking on eggshells around you. 

Furthermore, he would expect a certain degree of humility from you. This would make living with you a pleasant affair for both of you. The last thing he would want to do would be having to cater to excessive demands - it would make him feel like a butler, or a cash cow. Additionally, it would make guilt-tripping you easier, and result in less fuss once he squirrels you away. It would also lead to you being more open-minded, and more inclined to view him in a sympathetic light once he tells you the tragedy of his life. Though, with all this being said, the humility you present would have to go in the direction of self-sacrificing altruism to be the most attractive. 

Be resourceful, and your esteem would rise in his eyes. Little is more annoying than these modern types that need a special tool for every task. It would certainly be a beneficial trait to have, since you’ll wind up living in the middle of nowhere. This would also be a sign of reliability and agency in his eyes, and an assurance that he wouldn’t be courting a child. 

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

It goes without much elaboration that he would be very unwilling to let you go, and would construct circumstances so that it isn’t really possible for you to leave. That being said, one way that he might be forced to relinquish you would be if he grows too weak to keep you and somebody else swoops in to snatch you away. Tolys would vow to retrieve you, but the question would be if that would be feasible in the first place. Time weakens bonds. Out of sight is out of mind. With enough time, his obsession could fade. 

A similar principal would apply if you’d die or successfully escape and evade him for long enough. Though, you would have to avoid detection for a very long time. To him, you would be a source of happiness and purpose, without which he would teeter close to nihilism. As such, he would invest a lot of time and energy in retrieving you. You’d have to serve up another chew toy to keep him busy and keep his mind off of you. 

On that note, he would also be willing to allow you more freedom and time away from him if it is in the name of duty. Perhaps you’ve devoted your life to educating children, or have found your calling as an author and have to bring your scripts to the publishing house every now and then. Anything that is in service to the community and is important will be embraced by him and he’ll enter comprises for you for that sake. Watch out though - any ego-driven endeavours will never receive his blessing, and he would be quick to remove you from them. I.e - that YouTube channel is quickly going to go on permanent hiatus unless you can argue you’re doing it to educate the masses and not for clicks. 

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

He tries to be mild with you, really he does his best to do that. So, his first punishments would be constructed in ways that wouldn’t even register as punishments to either of you. Guilt tripping, gaslighting and neglect - and it would all be played in ways that would leave room for him to claim that he is innocent as a lamb. He would spill tears and roll out sob stories to make you feel guilty for perfectly normal acts, would give statements that would contradict your memories and make you doubt reality, and would leave you to do the chores around the house. In case you two already live in the woods in an isolated cottage, he would offload all the chores on to you as a punishment, and then watch you struggle. When it is just the two of you, like that, he’ll be more bolder and open about his punishments, since there is nobody you can run to, nobody to reprimand him for his less than ethical actions. 

Punishments can also have much more concrete forms, mind you. Such as him giving you something to eat or drink and then telling you it was poisoned. He’d derive schadenfreude from watching the panic unfold, and from listening to your pleas. He’ll squeeze a few concessions out of you, or turn the whole affair into an interrogation, and when he has what he wants, he will reveal it to be a farce. On the rare occasion it might even really be poison, and he’ll wait until the symptoms set in, and let you suffer a bit and then give you the antidote. 

Or he would dress you in armour, and tie you up, and use you for target practice - bow and arrow, crossbow or spear. That, or he would beat you up a bit with a dulled sword. You’d sport some pretty impressive bruising afterwards. 

Aside from that, you would really be dependent on him, and at times he would make that very clear to you through neglecting you. There would be no running water and he would leave the cottage on a hunting trip, or he would lock the shed containing the firewood and leave. Of course, he could go the traditional route and just subject you to solitary confinement for a week or two. The silent treatment would also be an option here. 

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

He would be more worried about you than angry, at least a first. Fragile, vulnerable you, stumbling through the forest with all those wild creatures. What if you trip and sprain your ankle? What if you fall down a steep slope and break bones? What if… what if? Constant worries and horror scenarios would be circling around in his head. He would resort to pacing, at some point wearing either the carpet or his shoes through. 

However, he wouldn’t go after you unless you’ve been gone for three days already. You see, the aim of this game would be to teach you a lesson, with the lesson in mind being that you can’t survive without him. Only he would know the way back to human civilization, so you would be lost without him, both in a literal and a metaphorical sense. Soon enough, you would come to realise that and return to him, with you fleeing the quaint shared life no longer being an issue. 

Still, the longer you would be absent, the more worry would morph into anger, with his thoughts about you becoming more dark and malicious with each passing hour. God forbid he would have to go out to retrieve you - any ailments causing you misery would be left untreated, provided that they are not fatal, with him even exacerbating them if he would feel especially wicked. 

That is only talking about how things would be if you are in his complete control. Should you elude him during the courting stage, then he would still view it as an escape. The problem here for him would be that he couldn’t make too much of a ruckus, and he would know this. Maybe he would try stalking you over social media, or tracking you through your phone. Perhaps he has people that would willingly come forth with your whereabouts and doings, or spill the beans with a little encouragement. 

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

Not well, not well at all - as mentioned above, he needs to be in control of the relationship for his own personal comfort. You taking the steering wheel in your hands would be a big, fat red line in his books. He would do anything in his power to prevent it, even going as far as to mutilate you and kill people in front of you to get the point across and make you back down. 

Should all that be in vain, then he would resort to malicious disobedience. The tables would also be turned as soon as possible, and he would use every opportunity to make your tenure as his master/mistress as unpleasant as possible. Food would be over-, or undercooked, oversalted or the wrong spices/ingredients would be used. The living quarters would eb half-heartedly cleaned, and any technology that you’d possess would malfunction frequently. To be especially petty, he would take some things you would tell him too literally, and cause problems that way. Perhaps he would be even further, and leave glass shards lying around, or attempt to smother you in your sleep with a pillow. 

Don’t think that removing him from your life would fix this problem, because he would still find ways to harass you. The more you would ignore him, the more extreme his actions would get, ranging from insistent text messages to sending letter bombs and framing you for murder. Tolys would somehow commit all these acts in ways that would ensure that law enforcement wouldn’t convict him, but that you would know it is him. 

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

Lithuania’s solution is either removing you from the scene or the third party. In the case of the former, he would cook up an excuse to take you away. These could range from more innocent ones like saying he was to talk to you in private to sending you away to a different country to straight up threatening you to make you remove yourself from the scene. It would depend on your willingness to be in a relationship with him and at what stage your relationship is. 

In the case of the latter - either one of two extremes: mild reproachments or physical violence. Leaving it at that there. 

Art doesn't belong to me, nor does the character!

[lilac-amethyst-skies]

hey hi! Can you do a match up for me plz? :3

Things about me (⁠✿⁠^⁠‿⁠^⁠)

I am genderfluid, I am very loud, excitable and talkative but get really quiet and stoic when upset, super emotional too -_-,. I'm also scenemo (combo of scene and emo >:3) I spend most of my time online but I love going out places. Very clingy and caring to people I care about and I LOVE soda! Also kinda a hopeless romantic and I draw a lot of doodles :p

Thanks in advance! (⁠≧v⁠≦⁠)

Your match is...Lithuania!

The relationship between you and Toris is wonderfully complimentary and balanced. You add a wonderful spark of excitement, passion, and spontaneity to his world; in return he strives to connect with your enthusiasm, while also grounding you in the moment and providing a gentle stability. Toris is undyingly loyal, reliable, and will always be there to provide support--just say the word and Toris will be there, his answer to any and all your requests being, "As you wish."

Toris loves the emotions that you feel--your enthusiasm and all the things you have to say. To him, you have a charm that has his heart singing. It's all too common to find a blush dusted across his face as he's by your side--no matter how long you've been together, you make him feel delightfully warm and whole. Especially those moments when you whisper sweet little things into his ear and pull him close.

[hetaliaimaginesin2022]

hi atlas, i love ur texts !! <3 could u do some imagines for norway, denmark and lithuania falling asleep while the reader was reading them fairy tales? thank uuu, wishin u an amazing day <3

Thank you so much, you're so sweet, I hope your day is just as lovely as you are

Denmark, Lithuania, and Norway Falling Asleep To Their S/O's Reading To Them

Denmark • Matthias Køhler

When you picked up the book and started reading, you were sitting on the couch, Mathias' head resting on your thighs while his attention was on his phone

As you started reading, he didn't immediately notice, too focused on whatever group chat he was in, but at some point in your reading, it caught his attention and he started listening

He placed his phone on his chest and closed his eyes, just intending on listening for a little while, but quite quickly after he did so, he drifted off to sleep, lulled by your voice

Lithuania • Toris Laurinaitis

He loves the sound of your voice, finding it to be calming and deeply soothing, especially when he's struggling with sleeping, as he's prone to do

While he's embarrassed doing so, he'll actually ask you to read something cute while he tries to drift off, so you choosing fairytales is kind of perfect

He enjoys laying in bed next to you while you softly read the short stories, a small smile on his face

It makes him fall asleep better than anything else

Norway • Lukas Bondevik

He's an unabashed lover of fantasy, mythology, magic and the arcana, so he doesn't mind you reading fairytales aloud (this is probably not an uncommon occurrence and he'll occasionally make requests of stories from his country)

He normally doesn't fall asleep when you read them, however, since he had to sit through a particularly long World Conference meeting earlier in the day, he couldn't help it

With him leaning against you, he slowly fell asleep, relaxing to the sound of your voice

[apple---cider---vinegar]

Toris and Cut up fruit

Toris is a hard worker; dedicated to an ever increasing work load with patience and diligence but that was not a fact that undermined you in any way.

You were just as dedicated, if not more.

He's used to and fond of evenings you would spend together. You'd sit in different parts of the room and work the evening away; only getting up for a refill of your drinks.

Tonight you planned on pulling an all-nighter and Toris was cutting up fruit for just that. It was one of the rare days that his work load was manageable, so he busied himself with fruit.

He would place the bowl in the fridge so you could retrieve it on your midnight run for snacks.

The thought makes him smile.

[hetalia-fannn]

Lithuania x an s/o who he’s been friends with for hundreds of years???

Interesting one anon so there you go!

It's late sorry.

Characters: Aph Lithuania x Gn!s/o

Lithuania and S/o whom he's been friends for many years:

You and Lithuania had been friends for so long, sometimes it was hard to remember which date you both met but it wasn't an excuse for you not remembering it at all.

Wonderful days, and amazing adventures you both have been to, sometimes pranking the other Baltics and sometimes running from Russia.

He was always cheerful, elegant and sweet, it took you so long that you were in love with him.

But you didn't know if he felt the same for you, and you in no way wanted to ruin your friendship with him.

But these feelings eventually grew, you paid more attention to his smile, his jokes, his outfits and... him.

However... weren't you two just friends..?

Just one day, later on, you caught him looking at you with shining eyes.

You blushed, he was so pretty, you couldn't look at his eyes.

He later said, "You are so beautiful" and that made you even blush more.

Then you couldn't believe when he confessed "Actually, I've been in love with you for years now.. but since we were great friends I've always thought you only saw me as one"

You said, "Actually me too and-"

He kissed you, you just couldn't believe it at all, but you loved that feeling.

And you thought, guess we aren't friends anymore..

Well, I tried my best hope u like it ^-^

[cece693]

Devotion in the Ashes

pairing: hannibal lecter x gender neutral reader tags: reader knew hannibal when they were kids, mentions of extreme devotion and love, human hannibal, no specific time line, child-adulthood

You first met Hannibal Lecter on a summer afternoon in 1939, when the world outside the Lecter estate still felt safe. Your families were neighbors—your father had been a friend of Count Lecter, and your mothers often hosted tea in the estate’s sunroom. You were hardly more than a child, but so were Hannibal and his little sister, Mischa. Back then, Hannibal had been a quiet boy with gentle eyes and a clever mind that never stopped whirring behind his stillness. Mischa was the opposite—loud giggles, constant questions, and a warmth that always drew you in.

But war doesn’t spare childhood innocence for long. Lithuania became a battleground, and your carefree days grew scarce. Meals shrank to rationed scraps. The hush of nighttime was shattered by planes overhead, rumors of soldiers roaming the forests. You, Hannibal, and Mischa sought refuge in the corners of the Lecter property, whispering stories to distract yourselves from the thunder of artillery not too far away.

Snow covered the Lithuanian countryside in a harsh white sheet the winter that changed everything. The Lecters’ castle was overrun by desperate, violent men—soldiers or scavengers, it hardly mattered. In those terrifying nights, you recall Hannibal shielding Mischa behind him, urging her to be quiet, his heart pounding against your shoulder as the three of you huddled together in the darkest part of the cellar.

When Mischa was taken, a piece of Hannibal died. You were there, but powerless. The soldiers overpowered you, shoved you aside, and locked you away. You lived, but you’d never forget the gnawing guilt of surviving while Mischa did not. When Hannibal emerged from that carnage, silent and seething, his small body trembling, you tried to hold him. He let you, though you realized later that in those seconds, he had receded into himself, spirit fractured by horror.

In time, you managed to slip away from the carnage. Your family left. He disappeared. Letters undelivered, calls unanswered. You carried the memory of Hannibal Lecter as something half-lost and half-stolen, sure that you would never see him again.

Your parents traveled west, seeking safety. Eventually, with the war’s end in sight, you found a semblance of normalcy, though a heavy grief remained. You couldn’t help but think of Hannibal in quiet moments—his last expression, the heartbreak etched into his features, and how tightly his cold hand had clutched yours in the last moments before you were separated.

But fate is not so easily denied. After years of searching, you discovered that he had been relocated to France, eventually living under the care of a relative. You learned he was studying medicine. The day you knocked on his door in Paris, your heart rattled in your chest, uncertain if he’d welcome you or remain a ghost from a painful past.

He opened the door, and for a long moment, you both simply stared. He was older—taller, leaner, the angles of his face refined into a striking elegance. But in his dark eyes, you saw the same swirling intensity, the same quiet gravity that had once made you feel safe and uneasy all at once.

“Hannibal,” you breathed. His gaze flickered over you—shock, relief, a glimmer of something else you couldn’t yet name. He stepped aside to let you in, and when the door clicked shut behind you, the years between you collapsed.

In the weeks and months that followed, it became clear Hannibal had changed. Shadows lingered in him, always on the edge of his features. His politeness was unwavering, his intellect sharper than ever. But behind the measured courtesy was a sea of obsessions and unspoken longing. You were relieved he trusted you—he wanted your company, perhaps more than he wanted anyone else’s. But you also sensed that he guarded something deep, a coiled darkness born from the tragedy that stole Mischa away.

He hardly spoke of his sister; you knew better than to press. But when nightmares surfaced—ragged breathing in the middle of the night—you were the only one he allowed near. You, the one from his childhood, the only one who knew him before and after.

Still, it was not merely comfort in your presence that Hannibal sought. There was a fervor, a devotion in the way he watched you. If you left his side, even for a moment, you felt his gaze follow you across the room. When you returned, he would exhale, tension evaporating. Like a priest at a forbidden altar, he worshipped you with quiet but fierce concentration. You were his anchor, the only living vestige of innocence and warmth he had left.

On Hannibal’s eighteenth birthday, you found him in an empty lecture hall—classes over, the last echoes of chatter dying out in the corridor. He sat at one of the rows near the front, eyes drifting to a window where sunlight slanted in, dust motes swirling in gold.

You set a small package on the desk in front of him: a fountain pen you had found in an antique shop, the barrel engraved with the Lecter coat of arms. He said nothing, simply clicked it open and tested its weight in his hand. Then, in a voice nearly too soft to hear, he said, “Thank you.”

You couldn’t guess then how your simple gift would stir such fierce emotion in him. But when he looked up, you saw something raw—relief, gratitude, and something else quietly smoldering behind his eyes.

“Hannibal…?”

He rose and stepped closer, so close you felt his breath. He swallowed as though preparing to speak, but no words came. Instead, he reached out, fingertips brushing your chin. You weren’t sure who leaned in first, but in seconds his lips pressed to yours—hesitant, searching. You tasted the trembling in him, felt the suppressed quake of desire. This was not the polite veneer; this was Hannibal stripped bare, desperate, clinging to a person he worshipped as his anchor against the world.

When you broke apart for air, you found your voice, shaky though it was. “Hannibal, I—”

He silenced you with a gentle press of his palm on your shoulder. You felt him exhale against your mouth, tension unwinding from his body. As he inclined his head—cheeks flushed, eyes still cast downward—you saw the vulnerability that had burrowed into him since childhood. In this moment, he didn’t wear the mask of unflappable charm; he gave you his broken pieces, trusting you to hold them gently.

From that day forward, Hannibal’s devotion only grew. It was in the quiet glances he stole when he thought you weren’t looking, the way he would hover close if anyone else tried to pull you into conversation. He wanted you entirely, as if the rest of the world was an unwelcome intrusion upon your shared space. He was fiercely protective, sometimes frightening in his intensity. When you touched him—fingers brushing his hair, your arms encircling his waist—he leaned into your every caress like a worshipper falling to his knees before a beloved deity.

But there was also the side of him that unfurled only in private. His breath catching when you took the lead, when you slipped a hand beneath the collar of his shirt and felt his heart pounding. He yielded to you, that calculating composure dissolving whenever you showed him softness. And the more he surrendered, the more you realized that Hannibal—so guarded, so controlled—desired nothing more than to be laid bare beneath the person who truly saw him.

Moments of intimacy brought him solace unlike any other. He would cling to you, voice trembling as he murmured in your ear: confessions of guilt over Mischa, the horror of what he had endured, the nightmares he couldn’t banish. He carried scars from that winter—the memory of losing her, of seeing something unthinkable. Yet with you, he trusted himself to unravel, giving you the only piece of him that was still genuinely, irrevocably human.

There came a night when you found Hannibal pacing in his room, the shutters drawn. Outside, the Parisian sky was a wash of moonlit blue. Inside, he looked ready to burst from the tension coiling in him. When you called his name, he turned with haunted eyes, as if the ghosts of those days in Lithuania hovered just outside his awareness.

He took a slow, unsteady breath. “I want only you,” he whispered, voice shaky with reverence. “I’ve always wanted only you.”

You stepped forward, cradling his face. “Hannibal, you have me.” He pressed his forehead against yours. A question trembled on his lips, but you understood before he spoke. With careful hands, you guided him to sit, letting him settle into your embrace. He yielded, fragile beneath your touch, eyes shining with unshed tears of relief.

When your mouths met again, there was nothing left of the boy who once hid behind stoicism. Instead, you felt every ounce of his need for you—his body, mind, and spirit clinging to the one person he believed could save him. In that hush of night, you made a silent promise: you would never let him stand alone against the ghosts of his past.

Hannibal kissed you back with a desperation that bordered on reverence. He was lost and found in the same breath, his entire being caught in the space between your heartbeats. As your closeness deepened, he pressed himself to you with complete surrender. This was the Hannibal Lecter no one else would ever see—vulnerable, trusting, and utterly devoted. He would let the whole world burn if it meant keeping you by his side.

In the years to come, Hannibal would chase greatness. Medicine, surgery, the refined arts. He would step into a realm of sophistication and hidden darkness. And yet, there was always you—a single constant in his fractured life. The tenderness he showed you in private belied the mask he wore in public. You were his sole confidant and temptation, the promise of genuine warmth he couldn’t find elsewhere.

At times, you would see flickers of cruelty, or hints of the shadow that lurked behind his calm veneer. You suspected he had become capable of unimaginable acts. But you also felt the ferocity of his attachment. Whenever your eyes met, you witnessed the boy from the war-torn estate, the boy who held your hand through nightmares and pressed trembling kisses to your lips as if you were his salvation.

You were the tether binding Hannibal Lecter to the last scrap of his humanity. And in turn, he was yours—devoted, jealous, and consumed by a love that had been forged in the fires of war and tragedy. No matter how many masks he wore to the outside world, he revealed the real man only to you: the one who knelt at your altar, worshipping you as the lone guiding star in a life overshadowed by darkness.

He would never let you go. And for reasons beyond simple logic or morality, you found yourself choosing to stay, bound to Hannibal Lecter by a love deeper and more consuming than either of you had ever thought possible. Together, you carried the memory of Mischa—the sweetness she represented—and refused to let that memory die. In his arms, you found the broken boy who needed your touch, your warmth. And in your presence, he found something more than hunger or vengeance: he found devotion.

[andy-15-07]

Tommy miller x fem reader they have like patrol and she begs Tommy to sit and watch the sunset with her and they like make out and she rides him❣️

Sunsets and Surrender

PAIRING: Tommy Miller x reader

Word Count:1064| requests are open (send requests, I will gladly answer them all)

The Last Of Us Masterlist

hey, I'm sorry I haven't posted for 2 weeks, as I told you I was away on an Erasmus project in Lithuania, yesterday I got home so I'll start posting today, I had some requests written, but they needed a few touch-ups so today I'll post

The horses trotted quietly through the brush, the late afternoon sun casting golden streaks through the trees. Tommy rode just ahead of you, broad shoulders tense, rifle strapped across his back. You'd been riding patrol with him for hours,no sign of infected, no danger,just the quiet hum of a warm day and the subtle tension that always lingered between the two of you.

You nudged your horse forward until you were riding beside him. “We’ve got time before we head back.”

Tommy glanced at you with a tired smile. “Still gotta sweep that ridge up ahead.”

You followed his gaze, then looked to the horizon. The sun was dipping low, turning the sky into streaks of fire and rose. “Tommy…”

He raised an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah?”

“Let’s just stop for a bit. Please?”

He gave a soft snort. “You beggin’ me to slack off?”

“I’m begging you to sit with me. Five minutes. Look at that sunset.”

He let out a long sigh, but his eyes flicked to the sky again and softened. “You really wanna sit and watch the sun go down?”

“With you? Always.”

That made him pause.

“Alright,” he said eventually, pulling the reins and guiding his horse toward a small clearing. “Five minutes.”

You grinned, heart skipping as you slid off your saddle and tied your horse to a nearby post. Tommy did the same, watching you with that unreadable expression he always wore when you were a little too close for a little too long.

You dropped into the grass with a sigh, brushing your hands back as you stretched your legs out. “God, that feels good.”

Tommy sat beside you, boots planted, arms resting on his knees. He didn’t speak right away, just looked out over the land as the sun sank lower.

After a minute, he said softly, “You always this good at convincing people to disobey orders?”

“I’m not disobeying,” you teased. “I’m just taking advantage of a beautiful moment.”

He shook his head with a smirk. “You always talk like that?”

You glanced at him sideways. “What, like a poet?”

“Like someone who wants somethin’.”

You leaned a little closer, eyes still on the sun. “Maybe I do.”

Tommy swallowed, throat bobbing slightly. “That right?”

You finally looked at him fully. “I like being around you.”

He met your gaze. “Y/N…”

You smiled. “Don’t ‘Y/N’ me like that.”

He sighed. “You know I want you. You gotta know that.”

Your heart thudded. “So what’s stopping you?”

He glanced down. “I ain’t exactly a man with a clean past.”

You leaned in, brushing your hand lightly against his. “Neither am I.”

His fingers curled into yours, and when he looked back at you, something shifted in his eyes. “This ain’t just messin’ around for you?”

You shook your head. “Does it feel like I’m just messing around?”

He didn’t answer. He leaned in and kissed you.

It was soft at first,tentative, testing,but it deepened quickly. You leaned into him, hand rising to cup his jaw, his stubble scraping against your palm. He pulled you into his lap, and your legs straddled his without thinking. You could feel his heart racing under your hands.

When you pulled back, both of you were breathing heavy.

“Jesus,” he muttered, eyes locked on your lips.

You smirked. “Still wanna head back?”

His hand slid up your back, gripping your waist. “You’re gonna be the end of me.”

You rocked your hips just slightly, and he hissed through his teeth.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “Y/N…”

“I’ve thought about this,” you whispered, kissing along his jaw. “So many times.”

He groaned again, pulling you closer. “You’re killin’ me.”

You kissed him hard then, fingers tangling in his hair. He gripped your hips and pulled you down against him, and you could feel how badly he wanted you.

Your lips brushed against his ear. “I wanna ride you.”

He looked up at you, eyes blown wide. “You sure?”

You nodded, and he kissed you again, rougher this time.

Tommy laid back in the grass, dragging you with him, his hands guiding you as you undid his belt, tugged at the buttons of his jeans. He helped you out of your patrol jacket, hands warm and steady even as you trembled.

You straddled him again, slowly sinking down, and both of you moaned at the contact.

“Shit,” he breathed. “You feel so fuckin’ good.”

You moved slow at first, letting the moment linger,watching his eyes close, his jaw tense, his fingers gripping your thighs tight.

“Faster,” he muttered, voice thick with need. “C’mon, baby.”

You did, grinding down on him, your breath catching every time he met your hips. The sun cast everything in gold, your skin glowing, the light painting Tommy’s face in shadows and warmth.

His hands slid under your shirt, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.

“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he groaned.

“Tommy,” you gasped, picking up your pace.

“Right there,” he growled, pushing up into you. “Fuck, I’m close.”

You moaned, nails digging into his chest. “Me too,don’t stop.”

He didn’t.

The world blurred for a moment,sun, heat, his hands on you, your body arching as release hit. Tommy cursed, his hips jerking, arms holding you tight as he finished with a groan.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you panting, tangled in each other.

After a long minute, he stroked your hair gently. “You alright?”

You nodded, cheek pressed to his shirt. “Yeah. That was… incredible.”

He laughed softly. “Didn’t expect that on patrol.”

You smiled against his chest. “Told you the sunset was worth stopping for.”

Tommy pressed a kiss to your hair. “If I’d known what you meant by ‘sunset,’ I would’ve stopped earlier.”

You sat up slowly, brushing your fingers over his cheek. “So… now what?”

He looked up at you with something soft in his eyes. “Now I take you home. And maybe we do this again,somewhere with a real bed.”

You kissed him gently. “It’s a date.”

He helped you up, tucked himself back in, helped you fix your shirt and jacket like a gentleman despite what just happened in the dirt.

You both got back on your horses, the sun finally slipping behind the hills.

As you rode beside him, Tommy reached over and brushed his fingers over yours.

“No more beggin’ to stop next time,” he said, voice low.

You grinned. “Deal.”

[green-swan]

cigarette or zoot? (pt. 1) | joost klein x f1! driver (fem!reader)

in which london and smoking are synonymous with meeting a cute dutch artist

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

when AVROTROS approached her about eurovision, she thought they made a mistake. max was dutch. she wasn't. her lithuanian roots were deeper than any other identity she could've carved for herself. in the end she agreed; going in their cars with max around the city of malmö, visiting a few eurovision parties and most importantly, interact with joost klein (whom she didn't know, mind you) and teach him how to use an F1 simulator. this was going to be a heavy week. thank god it was in a month, right now she had a race to win.

first came the party - london was a welcome destination for the young driver. she thrived under the busy nature of it even in what some would call late, and others early, hours. she couldn't say the same for crowds though, the moving mosh of strangers all too close to each other and trying to show their superiority (the latter was aimed at men to be fair). she did see silvester, and the two had a lengthy conversation that didn't come to a conclusion but rather stayed at "what the fuck, let's make lithuania internationally famous!" she had hoped for a good place in eurovision, if not victory, while silvester (silvestras sounded more like home) had voiced his wish for her to win the upcoming miami grand prix and not only become the first female to do so, but also the first from lithuania. the pressure was on.

unfortunately, she lost silvester after getting a drink, so what really was the point of staying in the now airless room? she grabbed her drink and went to the rooftop that really should've been closed. her short frame slumped against a railing and she lit a cigarette, making it a point to hold it between her thumb and index finger. it was quiet, and london shimmered in different shades of yellow and white. so many people, some praying, some arguing, some alone. it felt peaceful despite the harsh wind that threatened to put out her cigarette.

"cigarette or zoot?" an accented voice sounded out, breaking the howls of wind. she turned around, spotting a man in what would've been a formal outfit had it not been for the pyramid-shaped shoulder pads on his blazer. joost klein, the man she was meant to interact with in front of cameras later that month. "cigarette," she answered, "though they call them something else here," she finished with an unsure smile. "i thought we couldn't bring tobacco in here?" he questioned, with a miscievous undertone in his voice. "they didn't check me, so it's on them," the driver shrugged, "why? you want one?"

"god, yes please!"

she took out another one from her pack, put it in between her glossed lips (joost thought that the gloss suited her) and lit it before giving it to the dutch man. "you know, i once tried eating a cigarette," he started, earning an incredulous look from the shorter girl. "what? did it taste good?" her curiosity was cute, "what do you think?"

"i once nearly swallowed jet fuel," she said with sympathy, "i get it."

joost knew who she was, well vaguely. the only female formula 1 driver and the only lithuanian on the grid. so why did AVROTROS want him to interact with her in addition to her dutch teammate? by that point, the wind had calmed down, an eery silence on brink of errupting had it not been for the music blasting from downstairs. she hummed a few lyrics before he spoke up, startling her heart as if she'd forgotten that he was indeed still there.

"can i take a picture of you right now?"

"why?"

"you're pretty. you look really beautiful in this moment, and i want to capture it."

she thought for a moment. "okay, if you let me take one of you after." he smiled. (he was so going to convince her to be on the cover of his next album)

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

note: jumping on the joost klein bandwagon (hehe been a fan for a while! got tickets for his europapa tour so i've been riding on cloud 9). i also love formula 1 and so thought why not combine them?

as the first paragraph indicates there will be (probably short and sweet) chapters and maybe extra ones after if this goes well <3

[openwiindow]

Hiii. Just wanted to let you know that your writing is beautiful and I simply love it. As for a request, I'm on a roll with Katarsis and I just can't get Lukas out of my head, so I'd like to request one with him like imagine him and reader both contestants in Eurovision and both being done with how much media interviews they gotta do and somehow they bonded over this by making sarcastic remarks and joking around as a way of copping (both being more introverted). So their bond gets stroger by the end of the competition and saying goodbye feels so wrong as both feel like whatever they have going on is worth exploring, so one of them (can be either one), decided to switch their flight and go to the other's country to spend more time together.

Pairing: Lukas x reader

It was over. It was finally Eurovision finale and in less than 24 hours you could go home—at least that’s what you should do, not what you want to do.

On the start of Eurovision journey you, obviously, excepted to meet a lot of people—wich you did—but you bounced with some people more than the other, more than you ever expected you would.

You have meet Lukas on one random interview, on some Eurovision before-party. They interviewed you and Katarsis, in the same time with big coincidence. In that time, you had noticed that their leader singer, Lukas, had some familiarity with you, not by the looks no, but by his introverted-handling-interviews type.

He, that day, took notice of you too. Not just cause you are introvert, but beacuse of your looks too. He tough that you were really pretty—like really pretty, and he wanted to talk to you, he just didn’t know how.

That’s when Katarsis got in the picture obviously!

Emilija was the first to notice how Lukas was trying to get sneaky glances at you when you were in the same room—she noticed you doing that too—so she decided to take things in her own hands, by firstly talking to rest of Katarsis of course.

Emilija went to talk to you, girl to girl, something like “Hey i like your song!” just so she could start the conversation. In the meantime, Katarsis brought Lukas where you two were.

At first, you were too shy to start the conversation, but Emilija managed, thank god, to do that, so Lukas and you started to talk.

You started to talk every day—in real life, on instagram, before you exchanged phone numbers, and almost every night on video call—and fans started to notice yalls closenes.

Now back to present!

Katarsis, at the end of finals, were 16th and you were 18th. It was good for both of you cause it was better place than in the odds.

You wen backstage stage where Lukas bas waiting for you, where you both know are going to have the talk.

You were going back to your country tomorrow, and you told him that. He was going to Lithuania tomorrow too. You just looked each other in the face before he said goodbye bye, hugs you and walks away to his room.

Oh.

You did not expect for this to end just like..this.

Lukas didn’t expect that too, so he decided to cancel his flight and book flight to your country! But there were no tickets for that flight! Oh!

He ran as fast as he could so he could caught you, cause you weren’t answering you phone. He was scared that you were already on the plane, that he would never see you again—but then he saw you.

He ran to you like there’s no tomorrow, and when he finally got to you, he did nit waste his time and kissed you. He had his hands on your waist, and you were little suprised at this, but you liked it, maybe even loved it.

“I don’t want our story to end, i want this to be just start, please.”

[soavk]

MASTERLIST

✧ - fluff

𖦹 - angst

៚ - smut

♡ - author’s favorite

— JOOST KLEIN

gts ✧(Drabble)

Promise 𖦹

Mornings on tour ៚♡

— LUKAS RADZEVIČIUS

Always forever ✧

too much ✧

— OTHERS (feel free to request other people from eurovision!!)

Sweet dreams ✧ Kyle Alessandro x reader

Stress reliever ✧ Danya x reader

[moonlitsmile]

hey, so I have this idea. In season 2 Junho was in coma what if the reader is visiting him, because she is like right hand of frontman but she as well don’t really agree with the games and in the past frontman protected/saved her (can u make her foreigner, like she is from Lithuania. Nobody knows my country😭😭) because of it frontman and her this connection (not romantic) and he says her to visit Junho. So she always brigs roses to him because it’s her favourite flowers and talks to him. And one day when he was patrolling he stopped her, and he kind of remembered her. Thank u!!!

familiar strangers

hwang jun-ho x f! foreign reader

꣑୧ — 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | Working for the Frontman, reader dosent agree with the games but stays loyal because he once saved her. When he asks her to visit his comatose brother, Junho, she brings roses and talks to him, never expecting a response. But one day, Junho wakes up — and he remembers her.

The hospital room was quiet except for the steady rhythm of the heart monitor. The soft beep-beep-beep filled the space like a fragile reminder , he was still here. Still alive. But barely. She stood at the doorway for a moment, the familiar scent of disinfectant mixing with the delicate fragrance of roses, her roses. A fresh bouquet of pink ones was cradled in her arms, petals soft and perfect, untouched by the cruel mess of the world.

With a quiet breath, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. There he was, in the bed. He didn’t stir. He never did.

“hi Junho,” she said softly. Her soft light accent clung to the words, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile room. “It’s me again. You’re probably getting tired of my voice by now.”

She set the roses down on the bedside table, carefully unwrapping the old, wilted ones from the vase. She always replaced them, always kept them fresh. It was a strange kind of dedication for a man who didn’t even know she existed. But it felt right.

It was the least she could do.

As she trimmed the stems and arranged the new bouquet, her mind wandered, as it often did, to the man who’d asked her to be here in the first place.

The front man.

He had been… many things to her. A protector, once. A savior, maybe. Not a friend, they didn’t have the luxury of friendships in this world but an ally. Someone she owed more than she could ever repay. And when he’d asked her to visit his brother, she hadn’t hesitated.

Not because it was an order. But because she saw it in his eyes, that quiet, hidden ache he never spoke of. The same ache she felt when she looked at Junho lying there, unmoving.

“It’s been… a long day,” she murmured, settling into the chair beside the bed. “The games are getting worse. I don’t know how much longer I can keep pretending.”

She reached out, brushing her fingers against his hand, just for a second. His skin was warm, but he didn’t react. He never did.

But she kept coming back.

And she kept bringing roses.

she visited again. she wasn’t sure why it felt so heavy each time she went to see him. She’d seen worse, done worse, and yet the sight of him, pale and still against the hospital sheets, hit her harder than she expected. Maybe it was because she knew who he was. Even if he didn’t some what fully know her.

But he was still alive. And that was something.

The room was dim when she entered, the soft glow of the evening casting long shadows on the walls. She held a bouquet of roses in one hand and the quiet in the other, stepping in like she was intruding on something sacred. The click of the door closing behind her sounded too loud.

“Hi again.” she greeted softly, more out of habit than expectation. Of course.

She moved with practiced care, swapping out the dying roses she’d left last time for the fresh ones she brought today. The scent of them filled the room, sweet and light, and she found comfort in the familiarity of it.

Sitting in the chair beside his bed, she studied his face. She’d never seen him awake.

“I wonder if you’d hate me,” she said one evening, her voice low and thoughtful. “If you knew who I was. What I’ve been part of.”

The monitors answered for him in their steady rhythm.

She didn’t know why she kept talking, but it was easy to speak when no one was listening. It was easier than admitting her doubts to anyone else. She told him things she’d never say out loud, how she hated the games, how the blood was starting to stain more than just her hands. She told him about Lithuania, about the cold winters and the smell of the sea. How roses were her mother’s favorite flower, and how they’d become hers, too.

Sometimes, she’d read to him. Books she borrowed from the compound’s library, whatever she could slip away with unnoticed. And when words felt too heavy, she’d sit in silence, just the two of them and the roses between them.

One night, as she was brushing the petals of a new bouquet, she glanced at him and said, “I wonder what you’re dreaming about.”

She didn’t expect an answer. She never did. But still, she kept asking.

And she kept coming back.

-

The news came quietly. a whisper passed along the right channels. He was awake.

She hadn’t been prepared for how those words would make her feel. Relief? Fear? She wasn’t sure. Maybe both. It had been months, months of one-sided conversations and roses left by his bedside. and now Junho was no longer just a silent presence in a hospital room. He was awake.

She didn’t visit him after that.

It felt… wrong, somehow. When he’d been sleeping, it was easy to pretend she wasn’t part of the world that had put him there. But now that he was awake, everything felt more complicated. So she stayed away.

But the roses didn’t. She still sent them, delivered anonymously to his room. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe part of her hoped he’d know, maybe part of her hoped he wouldn’t.

It was about two weeks later when it happened.

She was walking through the streets of Seoul, the cool evening air brushing against her skin, her mind far away. The city was loud, car horns and chatter. but she’d always been good at tuning it out. That’s why she didn’t notice him at first. Not until he was right in front of her.

“Wait.”

The word was soft but sharp enough to cut through the noise. She froze.

Slowly, she turned toward the voice, and her heart stopped.

He was standing just a few feet away, his eyes locked onto her face. There was no mistaking him. She’d spent too long sitting beside that face, memorizing every line and shadow. But seeing him awake, standing, alive, it was different. It hit harder.

Junho took a step closer, his brow furrowed in confusion. “It’s you,” he said, like he wasn’t quite sure of the words even as he spoke them. “I… I know you.” He stood there. His vest and hat on, in the middle of patrolling.

Her throat went dry. “I—”

“The roses.” His voice softened, his eyes never leaving hers. “You always brought roses.”

She felt her heart stutter, and for a moment, she couldn’t breathe. She should deny it, should turn around and walk away, but something in the way he looked at her kept her frozen.

“How… how do I know you?” Junho asked, his voice quiet and searching.

And just like that, the walls she’d spent so long building started to crack.

She should run.

Every instinct screamed at her to turn around and walk away, no, run. before this got any more dangerous. Before he remembered more. But she didn’t. She stood there, rooted to the spot, caught between his gaze and the quiet desperation in his voice.

“I…” She swallowed hard, her mind scrambling for the right words, any words. “I think you must be mistaken.”

But his eyes didn’t waver. “No. I remember you.” His voice was steady now, more certain. “Not clearly, but… I know your face. And the roses.” He took another step closer, his eyes softening with something like recognition. “Why do I know you?”

Her heart pounded so loudly she was sure he could hear it. She could lie. She should lie. But the truth sat heavy on her tongue, and after all those months of talking to him when he couldn’t answer, it felt impossible to stay silent.

“I…” She exhaled slowly, the weight of the moment pressing down on her. “I visited you. When you were in the hospital.”

Junho’s eyes flickered with something she couldn’t quite name. Surprise? Confusion? Gratitude? “You… visited me?” he repeated, his voice quieter now. “But why? I don’t—” He broke off, his brow furrowing as if the answer was just out of reach. “Who are you?”

She hesitated, the words threatening to spill out , her name, her story, the reasons she never should have been at his bedside. But some secrets were too dangerous, and this was one of them.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said softly.

But Junho didn’t let it go. “It matters to me.”

The way he said it, gentle but determined, made her chest ache. She shouldn’t care. She shouldn’t let this go any further. But the way he looked at her, like she was a missing piece of something broken inside him… it made her want to stay.

“I just… didn’t want you to be alone,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. “And I… I like roses.”

Something shifted in his expression, something quiet and warm. “It was you,” he said again, almost to himself. “I thought… maybe I dreamed you.”

Her heart ached at the words. She wanted to tell him everything. about the roses, the conversations he never answered, the way his presence had become a strange kind of comfort in a life filled with coldness and violence. But she couldn’t.

“I’m glad you’re awake,” she said instead, her voice soft and careful. “That you’re okay.”

Junho studied her for a long moment, his eyes searching her face like the answers might be written there. And maybe they were, but she couldn’t let him find them.

“Will I see you again?” he asked.

The question stole her breath.

She should say no. She had to say no.

But instead, she found herself saying, “Maybe.”

And then, before he could ask anything else, before she could lose whatever caution she had left. she turned and walked away, the scent of roses still clinging to her hands.