#perhaps I will wear it tomorrow instead

[treffyfrinn-art]

Yesterday’s outfit of the day (if I had crutches and hadn’t been in too much pain to leave the house)

[reidmotif]

For the Love of Lace

Summary: Reader decides she doesn't want to pine for her best friend, Spencer, anymore, but still needs his help deciding what lingerie to wear for her upcoming date.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: breast and nipple play, fingering (r!receiving), lingerie talk, unprotected penetrative sex, no implied breast size, couch sex, best friends to lovers, possessive Spencer

Word Count: 3.7k

Masterlist

Pining for your best friend definitely has its lows. There’s a certain sense of pathetic-ness that comes about when your friend is simply speaking, and your mind is occupied with the yearning to bridge the gap of distance between you two, and kiss them senseless. I think perhaps the biggest low that I’d hit, however, in the two years I’d been pining for Spencer Reid was the sexual frustration that came with being unable to see myself with anyone else. 

I’d never meant for it to play out like this. I thought it was an innocent crush, a byproduct of all the time we’d managed to spend with each other divulging into our personal lives and sharing the ordinary comings of the day together. However, there came a point where I looked at him and could see my future laid out so perfectly with him. A future of love, and laughter, and God, so much sex.  And no matter what I’d tried, the thought was too good to let go. 

It didn’t help that not only was he oblivious, he clearly didn’t return my affections. There were no signs of longing that I could deduce from his actions, and I’d decided to be reasonable about this. His actions were always remnant of a good friend, but a lover? No. There were no longing stares. No stolen brushes of fingers, or hushed whispers. It seemed that anything romantic about our relationship only emanated from my fantasies of what I wish we could be. 

And so here I was, unable to get past the mental block of wanting anyone as much, and it’d resulting in a long, exasperating two-year stint of celibacy. And Jesus, did it show. The tiniest thing Spencer did would set me off in a frenzy, and it left me feeling nearly perverted at a certain point. There’d been a day that he ran his finger down a page, attempting to locate a passage to display to me and all I could think about was how badly I wanted that finger in me. My mouth. Me. Anything. And then I realized I was lusting over my best friend’s hand, and considered the possibility of this being a serious problem on my end. 

My only block to getting laid was my own self.  And I certainly didn’t relish in the debauchery I’d clearly stooped low enough to indulge in, and so it was decided. This Valentine’s Day? I wasn’t going to watch rom-coms and wonder if Spencer and I could ever have a happy ending like them.

 I was going to man up, and go on a date. Easier said than done. 

I’d found the date, that bit was easy enough. Trying to find someone to hook-up with on Valentine’s Day is like trying to find sand on a beach. Plentiful and simple. 

What wasn’t easy? Feeling ready for it. I hadn’t been like that with anyone for nearly two years, and found myself worrying that my sexual skills had deteriorated with lack of practice, even though the thought was rooted in some ridiculous notions about myself. I knew that logically the sex would be fine, and hopefully, exactly what I needed to get over Spencer, but still. I wanted to ensure the best possible experience. 

I found myself going through the motions of date preparation. A manicure and pedicure. A facial. I even bought a fancier perfume to wear the night of. And of course, a trip to procure some new lingerie for the night. 

I’d always been indecisive, and with the choices presented in the shop, I found myself overwhelmed. I’d decided and picked up 3 possible pieces, and instead of determining between them whilst buying, I bought all of them, with the intention that I’d be able to make a choice in the comfort of my own home. 

Except now, it’d been a week, my date was tomorrow, and I still couldn’t figure out what would work for me. All three were equally as appealing, but which one was the best? The question haunted me, and continued to  haunt me as Spencer and I hung out. Despite my date tomorrow, I’d promised to keep up our tradition of binging episodes of Star Trek on Friday night together, except my head was clearly elsewhere, which he quickly noticed. 

Damn profiler best friend. 

“Alright, what’s up with you?” Spencer asks, reaching for the remote and pausing on some random frame of Spock’s face, the show taking less precedence than my lack of attention. 

I sigh apologetically, quirking my mouth to the side. “I’m sorry, Spence.” I say, taking a deep breath. “Just a lot on my mind.” 

Spencer tilts his head, his expression a little more worried. “Something important?” 

I shake my head quickly, not wanting to disclose the reasoning for my distraction tonight. Especially to him, considering my date tonight had the sole purpose of me getting over the man currently sat to my right. 

“No, no.” I say, softly. “Just.. stuff.” I voiced, quickly.

“Stuff?” Spencer inquires. 

“Stuff.” I affirm. 

Now it’s his turn to sigh, making a slight groaning noise whilst he did so. “Come on. I’ve known you for years. I know there’s something on your mind, and it’s clearly distracting you, so.. Please? Tell me?” He asks, giving me those eyes. A look that would make anyone weak in the knees. 

I find myself hesitating, and bite my lip, and in the end, it’s the way he’s looking at me that does me in. I opt to stay vague, but give him a bit more insight into my wandering thoughts. 

“My date tomorrow? I don’t know what to wear.” I say, shrugging. “It’s not very important, but I want to make it work, you know?” I continue. 

“Why don’t you just show me your dress then?” Spencer inquires. “I’m not a fashion expert, but it’s not like I’m unable to have taste.” 

I laugh a little self consciously, shaking my head quickly. “Oh no, no. It’s not a dress. It’s okay, Spencer. I couldn’t ask you to do that for me.” 

“Shoes? C’mon! I’m your best friend. I’d do anything for you.” He protests, coming closer to me now. 

“Not shoes.” I say, still shaking my head. “And no! I mean, seriously. There are some things you can’t do for me, and it’s fine. I’m fine.” 

“Jewelry? Hair? Makeup?” He implores continuously. “I’m all ears.” 

I realize there’s no way in hell he’s ever going to let this go, so I blurt out with little thought, “It’s lingerie!” 

He goes a bit quiet in thought, and then raises an eyebrow. “And that poses a problem?” He asks, softly. 

I blink a little. Yes. Of course that’s  a problem. I love you so much that it makes me feel weak, and I can’t be even more vulnerable in front of you. Not like that. 

But instead I shrug, running my hands through my hair. 

“I just.. Wouldn’t that be weird?” I say, hesitantly. 

“Not really.” Spencer replies, nonchalantly. “You’re my best friend. And I want to help you in any way I can. Nakedness doesn’t really bother me, and if it doesn’t bother you, I’d love to help you decide.” 

“Spencer..” I mumbled, still incredibly hesitant. 

“I’m your best friend!” Spencer articulates. “And logically, I can provide you with insight that only another guy could give.” He points out. “In a purely platonic, and logical sense.” 

I had to give him credit for that. It’s true. Spencer did have insight that none of my friends could provide, and I’d always entrusted him in helping me make decisions for myself and my life. And honestly, it was starting to get suspicious with how much I’d been objecting to this. The man had helped me decide bikinis, clubbing dresses- this couldn’t be any more different, could it? 

“Okay. Okay. Fine.” I give him a resigned nod, getting off the couch. “Alright. Wait here.”

He plants himself more firmly on the couch, his eyes trained on where I’d disappeared into my room, rummaging through the shopping bag until I’d found the first lingerie piece. 

It was a simple black lace bra and matching panties. The bottoms were a bit cheekier than a normal pair of underwear, and my legs were on display in full. My hair framed my pushed-up breasts, and I looked at myself in the mirror, slightly self-conscious at the fact that I was about to present myself this way to Spencer. 

How did I get into this mess? 

I slowly twist the doorknob, calling out to him. “Spencer! I’m coming out with the first one.” 

“I’m here.” is his reply, and I know he’s waiting, and so I slowly push open the door and come out in the light, a little more in his view. I give a half-hearted 360 degree turn, and look at him. 

“So?” I ask, my eyes finally meeting his, but the sight I’m met with is a lot different than the one I’m expecting. He’s slightly red in the face, his hands fidgeting in his lap- quite different from the more composed version I’d seen of him. 

“Is there something wrong?” I ask, quickly, feeling even more vulnerable as I stood there, half naked in front of a blushing man. 

“No, no!” He sputters. “I’m sorry. This is normal.” He gulps a bit and gives me a quick once over. “Sorry, I’ll be normal.” He clears his throat again and nods more definitively. “This one is nice. It’s simple.” He replies, as diplomatically as I’ve heard him. “Black works well with your skin and hair, and I feel like it brings out your eyes.” 

I nod, biting my lip. “Anything I could do to make it.. more than nice?” I queried. 

He narrows his eyes in thought.  “It’s already really, really nice, but I feel like stockings, or even a garter would even the attention from your breasts, more to your legs- which already look really nice, by the way.” 

It's my turn to blush and I nod quickly. “Stockings, got it.” I say. I blow out a breath of air. “One down, two to go.” I say, absentmindedly. 

“Better go back and try the other two, then.” Spencer says, with a smile. 

I attempt to return his smile and disappear back into my room, putting on the next piece. It was red, and a bit more showy than my previous piece. It was a criss-cross, cut-out lingerie. Lines of maroon fabric danced around my skin in a way that exposed the curve of my breasts, and connected to a simple, red thong. I walked out quicker than last time, a little less nervous now that the initial nervousness of appearing naked in front of him had faded. 

Despite my nervousness fading, it seemed like his had only increased. I’d only caught a glimpse of it in my hurried departure from my room to his line of sight, but had he.. been adjusting his crotch area?

 No. No. I mean, maybe he was turned on, but that was a completely normal reaction to a half-naked girl in front of a man. To my knowledge, Spencer hadn’t dated anyone in 2 years either, so it was completely possible he also had pent-up desires. This was normal. Spencer Reid did not feel the same way for me, not in the same way as I did for him. 

He quickly looks up and his hands are by his side in record speed. “This one is.. Wow.” He marvels, his eyes boring into my body. “Your breasts. They look great.” 

I can’t help the giggle that escapes me, a part of me secretly delighted that even if this was friendly, Spencer was enamored with my body in the way I’d always wished he would be. 

“Was that too much?” Spencer questions, upon hearing my laugh. “I’m only being honest. Your breasts look nice in this one. My eyes immediately went there with this piece.” 

I smile. “No, no. That’s what I need from you, anyway. That’s what I want my date to do too, anyway.” I say, dismissing his worries. 

“Right. Your date.” He says, curtly. 

I raise an eyebrow at the snippy reply, but don’t think much of it. “So.. the last one then?” 

“Yep. The last one.” 

“Right..” I mumble, going back to my room, slightly confused by the sudden change in demeanor, but ready to get this over with nonetheless. 

The last piece was a lot more revealing, in the sense that my nipples were exposed from the get-go with this one. A lavender slip, with transparent lace covering the breasts, and the silky fabric stopping right below my crotch. It was a bit more daring, but I still enjoyed the way it framed my curves, my hips, and my breasts. I wondered what Spencer would think, and out of modesty, I placed both my hands over my nipples, wanting to show the lingerie without fully exposing myself to him. 

I walk out, and this time, his gaze is intense. More so than I’d ever seen him in our years of friendship. 

“Spence..?” I ask, when he’s silent for a beat too long.

“Turn around.” He says, firmly, and I find myself listening instantly, baring my back to him, and no doubt he’s focusing on the way the fabric wrapped around my ass, leaving me slightly flustered and more on display than I’d ever felt tonight. 

“Spencer? Come on. Say something. Feeling a bit like cattle right now.” I voice, laughing a little nervously.

When I hear his voice again, I nearly jump out of my skin because he’s right behind me, his hands ghosting across my bare shoulders. 

“Don’t go.” He whispers, his hot breath fanning around my neck, sending shivers up my spine. 

I’m too nervous to turn around, so I keep my hands planted firmly on my breasts and murmur out my confusion. 

“What?” 

“Don’t go.” He repeats, more firmly this time, and I can feel his hand moving to grip my hip, orienting me to face him. “Please.” 

“Why not?” I ask, softly, my eyes wide as I try to read his expression. His pupils were dilated to the size of saucers, and I could feel his hands moving to cup my face, bringing us even closer. 

“I’d be an idiot to have not at least tried.” He whispers. “I’m sorry for doing this now. I’m sorry if this ruins everything. But I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t try.” 

I feel my confusion bubbling up, my eyebrows furrowing a little bit. “Why.. what is this? Is this because of the lingerie?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. 

“No. God no.” I can see him emphatically shaking his head at my rumination. “This has been coming for a long time.” He murmurs. “I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t. I can’t physically stand the thought of someone worshiping you the way I’d like to.” He rasps out, and I feel my heart jump, my breath coming out faster. 

When I’m silent, unable to respond,  his fingers run across my lips. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers. 

I nod, and it’s like he’s been waiting all night, and then some. His grip on my face tightens and he brings me in for a searing, earth-shattering kiss. His lips move over mine desperately, and I feel his grip shifting to bring my hands off my breasts, and to replace them with his own, his hands now pawing and squeezing at the flesh, which draws a soft moan from me. 

He throws his head back at the noise, leaning to kiss my neck. “Fuck yes.” He mumbles, seemingly goaded on by the noises slipping through my lips. “I’ve wanted this for so long.” He groans out, to no one in particular, just wanting to get the words out there somehow. 

I nod rapidly, and his hands are on my hips again, guiding me to the couch and laying me down. I move easily in his grasp,  a slight gasp escaping me as he climbs on top. His thumb goes to graze my jaw, leaning in for another kiss. It’s less rushed this time, slow and passionate. His tongue darts out to swipe over my bottom lip, and I open my mouth easily for him, reveling in the sweetness of how he tasted. 

He breaks off the kiss and moves down, kissing my breast between the lace. His tongue goes out to wet the fabric, and I’m arching my back at the sensation of the rough lace and the warm wetness now rubbing against the sensitive skin.

“You taste so good.” He mumbles. “God. Why did I wait so long?” 

“No clue.” I whimper out, desperately. “But don’t stop.” 

“I’m not stopping.” He says, gruffly, moving to bunch up the fabric of the slip until it pooled around my waist, exposing my dripping cunt to him. 

“I can’t stand the thought of another man touching you like this.” He whispers, his finger running up and down my wet folds, causing me to moan out needily. 

“Shh, shh, baby.” He murmurs. “You’ll get what you want soon enough.” 

Without warning, he easily slides two fingers inside me, and I can’t help but wonder if he was made for me. Given the way he effortlessly reached that spongy spot so deep inside me, I was compelled to say yes. The action prompted me to release a string of desperate moans and whimpers, increasing in octave with every second he pumped the digits in and out of me. 

“Yeah, you like that?” He mumbles, almost entranced with the way my cunt was sucking him in, tightening around his finger with each second he continued. 

“Yes. Yes, oh God.” I moan out, my eyes squeezing shut. 

“Open your eyes.” he demands, his thumb now darting out to rub harsh, tight circles on my clit. “I want to see your face when you come on my fingers.” 

My eyes snap open, and I can’t help it when I release another moan and feel my orgasm absolutely shred through me. My hips raise in an attempt to move off Spencer’s fingers, but he manages to follow my movement, nursing me through my orgasm, and watching every second of it. 

When it's over, he removes his finger and brings it up to his lips, sensually tasting my release right in front of me, never breaking eye contact- and the sight itself makes me need him all over again. 

I pull him in by the collar of his shirt, and my hands move to remove his buttons, wanting to feel his skin on mine. He laughs a bit and admonishes me, removing my shaky fingers. 

“Let me.” He mumbles, leaning back between my spread legs, and removing the clothing, before moving to his belt. 

I bite my lip as he hovers over me, and kiss him again. I can’t get enough of him. He’s all I wanted for so long, and here he is- mirroring my desire in the way I’d always hoped he would. 

“No man-” He breathes out, in between kisses, “could do this for you.” 

I nod in affirmation, continuing to kiss him. No argument there. 

“No man deserves to.” He adds, possessively, and it’s enough to make me clench around nothing, and I know at that point I’m more desperate for him than I had been the whole night. 

“Spence, please.” I groan out. “Need you.” 

He understands immediately and wastes no time, pulling himself out from his boxers, giving himself a few tugs before pushing inside of me, groaning as he feels my warm, wet walls grasp onto his cock. 

He remains there for a second, allowing me to adjust to his size. When he looks at my face again, and I nod, he starts to move, pulling out until only his tip remains inside of me, before slamming in. My jaw drops in a silent scream, and my hands go to grip his shoulders, and with the confirmation I was enjoying myself, he set on a ruthless pace, snapping his hips over, and over again, until I was reduced to a babbling mess in front of the man. 

He’s all I can feel at this point. His hands on my breasts, my hips, before he eventually rests both hands on either side of me and envelops me in his being. I can smell him, and the familiar scent only serves to tighten the coil in my stomach, reminding me that this was someone I’d loved so deeply for so long. Someone who was interwoven into the fiber of my being, and I know this is all I want, and all I’ll ever want. 

As we both feel our releases coming on at an alarming pace, he leans up to kiss me one more time, moaning against my mouth. I feel myself whimper before I feel my walls contract around his cock, my orgasm causing my back to arch even closer to him. The clamping of my cunt seems to drive him to finish too, and a warmth fills my deepest point as he groans into my ear, pulling out and lying against me. The two of us are panting, sweat sticking to both of our bodies and hair, lost in the post-sex haze and enjoying the proximity. 

He kisses my jaw and I giggle out and give a soft moan. “God.” I whisper. 

“Yeah.” He murmurs against my skin, and I can feel his smile. “Are you canceling your date then?” He says, a slight bit of glee in his voice. 

I giggle a little, finding his delight adorable and endearing. “Yes, Spencer. Obviously.” I murmur. 

“Good.” He whispers, laying his head on my chest. There’s a lull of quiet as my hands stroke through his hair, smoothing it out from our illicit activities just a moment ago. I can hear his grin as he breaks the silence. 

“Guess you could say I liked this piece the best.” 

hiii!! omg. this took a while. yes this is more of a valentines day fic and its a bit late but hey!! got it out in february. this was actually written for @imagining-in-the-margins new beginnings challenge, so go ahead and check that out when you can. i hope you guys like this one. as usual, please reblog, like, comment, and show your support any way you can. thank you for reading, and i hope it was enjoyable <333 ty ty ty!!

[random-thot-generator]

Try a Little Tenderness

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Fem Reader

Summary: Simon has just returned home in the middle of the night from a mission in less than stellar condition. Understanding that he was in desperate need of some TLC, you put aside the ‘frenemy’ dynamic the two of you usually operate within to take care of him, instead. Your gentle ministrations elicit a reaction that neither of you expect, but perhaps have been yearning for all along.

Warnings: Language, explicit sexual content, touching of naughty bits - Simon gets a helping hand in the bath, fluff and feelings, no Y/N

(A/N: This is a thot connected to an idea I had for a series. Still not sure about the series, but what ev. 

This is just me exploring the intimate relationship between the characters. It is minor smut compared to what I usually write, meant to be a vulnerable moment for Simon, and for reader as well. I dunno, I feel like a certain amount of trust needs to be established before Simon allows himself to be with someone in an intimate way. 

For a little backstory, Reader is Simon’s housekeeper/roommate/frenemy. It’s been platonic up to this point, but there have been some charged moments leading up to this. This is the turning point in the relationship, the first time Simon allows himself to really indulge in reader’s attention and care. Reader and Simon have been living together for about a year by this point but have known each other for almost two. Simon’s pet name for reader is ‘Doll’; reader’s pet name for Simon is ‘Grumpy’.)

Word Count: 2777

It was almost midnight by the time Simon shuffled through his front door. He was dead on his feet, still wearing the same clothes he put on three days ago, covered in filth and stinking to high hell. He would normally have stayed on base, cleaned up, ate and retired to his quarters to rest, but for some reason, he’d texted you mid-flight to tell you he was on his way back. He hadn’t been expecting an immediate answer, but he got one.

[DOLL]: What’s ur ETA? I’ll wait up 4 u. Have u eaten? 

Simon had hovered over his phone, glancing about the plane, not sure how to respond. He supposed he didn’t have to stay on base. He’d just never had a reason to return home before. He knew he should tell you not to wait up, to go to bed, that he would see you tomorrow, but instead he found himself tapping out a different message.

[GRUMPY]: Landing in twenty. Be home approx 2hrs.

[DOLL]: I’ll be waiting. C u soon.

He re-read the message several times. ‘I’ll be waiting.’ This was new for him, having someone to go home to, having someone there expecting him, waiting up to see him. Sure, he had come home to you before, but not like this. This was... premeditated.

As he closed the door behind him and locked it, he heard your feet padding through the sitting room and turned. He couldn’t help the smile that spread under the balaclava when he saw you. You were dressed in one of his old T-shirts, a pair of flannel sleep shorts peeking out beneath the hem, and a pair of those ugly fuzzy socks on your feet. Your hair was loose and hanging down your back, not quite dry yet from an earlier shower, and your face was free of makeup. He liked seeing you like this better than any other way.

You were looking at him in that direct way that always got to him, assessing him, checking him over. He waited for one of your customary snarky greetings, but instead your brows furrowed.

“You look exhausted, Si. C’mere. Sit down,” you instructed, pointing at the entryway bench. Simon didn’t even hesitate, just did as he was told. He watched you kneel before him and start unlacing his boots.

“Ya don’t got t’do that, Doll. I can―“

“Si, hush,” you murmured, your voice soft and gentle. “I got this, okay? You’re home. Relax.”

He didn’t have it in him to argue, so let you have your way. You removed his boots and stuck them under the bench by his trainers, then stood and held your hand out. “C’mon. You need a bath.”

He let you lead him up the stairs, but instead of taking him to his ensuite bathroom, you led him down the hallway to the bathroom that you used. You motioned for him to sit down on the toilet while you stoppered the tub and turned on the taps. He watched with curiosity as you opened the cabinet below the sink, taking out a glass jar filled with some sort of pinkish granules, sprinkling a generous portion of it into the filling tub.

“Wha’s that?”

“Epsom salts with lavender and eucalyptus. It’ll help ease your sore muscles,” you told him, replacing the jar in the cabinet. You turned to look him over again. “Let’s get you out of those dirty clothes. I’ll get you some clean ones once you’re in the bath. C’mon. Arms up.”

Simon thought about objecting. He was a grown man, he could undress himself, but as soon as he felt your hands on him, all complaints went right out the window. He held his arms out so you could pull the tail of his shirt out of the waistband of his jeans, shivering when he felt your fingers graze his lats as you peeled it up and over his head.

“I smell like shite,” he grumbled, embarrassed for you to be this close to him when he was in such a disgusting state.

You huffed, the sound low and amused. “You smell like a soldier who just got back from deployment. Believe me, I’ve smelled worse.” You motioned for him to stand again. Once he regained his feet, your hands went to his waist, undoing the belt and pulling it free, then you undid the button and fly of his jeans. You pushed them down until they bunched around his knees, then instructed him to lean on you while you tugged them off his legs.

And he just... let you. He had not had anyone care for him like this since his last stint in the medical bay, and that had been a male nurse with hands rougher than his own. He’d not had a woman care for him like this since he was a small boy, when his mother would get him ready for his bath. He felt his chest constrict, almost told you to stop, but your hand on the back of his calf silenced him.

“Foot up,” you said, letting him lean on you again as you stripped off first one sock and then the other. Once you straightened, you placed a hand at the small of his back and gave him a gentle push towards the tub. “I’ll go get you some clean clothes while you get in,” you said, then stooped to gather up his dirty things. “Be back in a minute.”

You left him staring after you, disappearing down the hallway. He turned back to the tub, eyeing the hot water lapping at the sides. Aromatic steam rose from its surface, too tempting to ignore. Pushing his underwear off his hips, he let them drop on the floor and stepped out of them, then climbed into the tub.

He groaned long and low as the hot water enveloped him, certain he had never felt anything better in his whole life. Closing his eyes, he dropped his head back on the edge, only then realizing that he still had on his balaclava. He hesitated for a moment, then reached up and pulled it off as well, dropping the dirty hood on top of his underwear. Fuck it. You’d seen his face before and hadn’t made a big deal out of it, didn’t even comment on it, really, just took it in stride like you did everything else.

He cracked an eye open when you re-entered the room, watching as you placed his clean clothes on the counter next to the sink. You opened another cabinet and removed some towels and a washcloth, glanced over at him, then opened a drawer and took out what looked like a pack of wipes and a squat, plastic jar with a pink lid. You brought it all to the tub with you and knelt by the side, near his head. You held up the pack of wipes and pointed at the black paint around his eyes.

“Figured these would help take that gunk off. I’ve got some cold cream, too. Can I...”

You wanted to touch his face. His mouth dropped open to say no, but then he closed it and swallowed. You were looking right at him, a normal expression on your face, not flinching away or averting your eyes. If it didn’t bother you, then he would allow it. For now. He gave a slow nod of assent.

You opened the pack of wipes and set them beside you, then opened the cold cream. “Lean your head back and close your eyes for me.”

Simon did as he was told, though his brain was sounding a klaxon alarm in his head. He was exposing his throat to someone, was closing his eyes and leaving himself vulnerable to your mercy. Did you see how tense he was? Could you see the muscles spasming as he fought not to move, to push you away, to fend you off like an enemy? Did you understand what this was doing to him right now?

Apparently, you did, at least to some extent. 

“Okay, Si. I’m going to put this cream around your eyes. It will feel cold, so don’t freak out. If you need to stop, just say the word. Alright?”

“Yeah,” he croaked out, waiting, steeling himself for the contact.

The first touch had him flinching, but he forced himself to remain still as you spread the cream around his eyes, working it in with your fingers in small circular motions. When you finished, you set the jar down and picked up the wipes. “I’m gonna clean all this off with these wipes. They’ll feel cold, too.”

This time, he only nodded, more relaxed now. Your touch had been soothing once he’d gotten used to it. It was... nice. He didn’t even twitch an eyelash when he felt the cool pressure of your fingers against his jaw, letting you tilt his head towards you. Your other hand began wiping gently at his face with one of the wipes. They smelled slightly floral, similar to the cold cream; he liked it.

It took several minutes to clean his face, neither of you saying anything. You were patient and methodical, cleaning away all the paint until none of it remained.

“Okay. Done with that,” you murmured, fingers moving from his face to his hair. “I’m going to wash your hair next, okay?”

“Hm,” he hummed in consent, not even bothering to open his eyes.

You wet his hair and then poured shampoo into your palm, working your hands together before placing them on his head. As your fingers curled and began to work his hair into a lather, Simon couldn’t help the low groan that rumbled out. It felt like heaven, the way your fingers massaged his scalp and neck. He could have whined when you stopped, but his breath hitched when he felt your fingertips under his chin, tilting his head back.

“Just need to rinse your hair, Grumpy. Keep your eyes closed.”

Again, he did as you instructed, not offering so much as a grunt of complaint when you rinsed his hair and then used the washcloth to dry his face. You raked your fingers through his hair, noting how choppy and uneven it was. Maybe he’d let you cut it some time, but for now, you would stick to what you knew he would allow.

“How ‘bout I wash your back for you and then I’ll go downstairs and make you something to eat while you finish your bath?”

He blinked his eyes open and stared at you. The steam and trapped heat from the bath were making you sweat, a light sheen making your skin gleam in the warm light. He had the sudden urge to run his thumb up your throat, collect the moisture beading there and taste it. He felt his cock give a twitch of interest below the water and brought his bent knees closer together. Grasping the edges of the tub, he pulled himself in to a sitting position, back bowed towards you.

Pleased to see him so cooperative, you dunked the washcloth in the water and grabbed your body wash, squirting out a couple of dollops. Working the cloth in your hands until you had a good lather, you rested one hand on his shoulder and used the other to slowly scrub the cloth over his back in large circles. You could feel the tension easing out of his shoulders, watched his head tip forward until he finally crossed his forearms on his knees and rested his forehead against them.

When you were done with his back, you didn’t stop, moving up to his shoulders and then down his arm. He leaned back, studying the way you washed each finger, working the cloth between them. You glanced up at him. “Other arm?”

He twisted around and held his arm out to you, resting his wrist on the edge of the tub. You washed it with as much care as you had the other, leaning over the tub to reach his underarm. When you went to slide the cloth away, he caught your wrist and pulled it to the center of his chest. He then closed his eyes and leaned back, letting his head rest against the edge again.

Slow circles worked the lathered cloth over his broad chest and collarbones, and you smiled when he tipped his chin up to let you wash his neck. A soft breath hissed between his lips as your hand dipped below the water’s surface to wash his sides and stomach, his brows ticking together when you brought the cloth back up. He shifted, his knees going wide to lean against the sides of the tub.

You were beginning to feel heat simmering in your lower belly that sent a blush creeping up your neck. “Do, uh... I can wash your legs next. If you like.”

He caught your hand in his, eyes still closed, and pushed it beneath the water again. “Wash here,” he replied, his voice like gravel in his throat.

You held your breath as he guided your hand down to his cock, let him wrap your fingers around its swollen girth and hold them there. His chest was rising and falling, chin tipping forward to rest on it when he felt you grip him tighter. Your lips parted as you gave him a tentative stroke, your breath puffing out in little pants as you watched him let out a shuddering breath, his eyes rolling open to reveal a lust-dazed expression before sliding closed again.

Your hand slid up and down his shaft in slow, even strokes, working him gradually, wanting him to enjoy what you were doing to him. His pleasure incited your own, and you could feel your panties grow damp with your arousal as you watched him slowly fall apart. He was panting now, head lolling back once more, hooded, hazy eyes staring up at the ceiling, his knuckles going white as they gripped the edge of the tub.

Your thighs squeezed together when a wrecked moan tore from his lips as you worked at him beneath the cloudy water, wishing it was clear enough for you to see him as well as feel him. Your tongue darted out to wet your lips, the feel of his hot length pulsing in your hand almost too much to bear.

“Ah, fuck...” he huffed out, his back beginning to curl forward. He lifted his eyes to yours, mouth open and panting, a look of near desperation on his face. His hand came up to grip the nape of your neck, drawing you close until his forehead rested against yours, holding your gaze. His nose brushed against yours in an intimate caress, lips almost touching, the two of you sharing the same air. “Don’t stop,” he husked out.

The speed of your strokes increased, your hand slipping up to focus on the head, making his knees draw up as he tensed. You could feel him swelling in your hand, growing bigger and harder as he neared his release. His eyes grew wide, mouth falling open as his jaw went slack.

“It’s okay, Simon,” you whispered to him, “I got you,” and that was all the prompting he needed.

His grip turned into a vice on the nape of your neck as he erupted beneath the surface of the water, and he growled against your mouth, teeth gritting into a snarl as he pulsed in your hand. You didn’t stop stroking him until his eyes closed and grip loosened on your neck, his breaths puffing out in exerted gasps over your lips.

You let him rest against you, not bothering to move or say anything, wanting him to have this quiet moment, to just relax in the knowledge that he was home and safe, that you were here for him. You closed your eyes and let yourself enjoy the moment as well, relishing the quiet, the peace.

Simon’s eyes flickered open, not sure what to expect, only to find your eyes closed, lashes shadowing your cheeks, a gentle smile on your face. You looked so calm, so at peace. You looked... content.

You blinked your eyes open, startled, when you felt the hesitant press of his lips against yours, but you didn’t shy away, instead letting him feel you smile against his lips before you tenderly kissed him back.

[thatfreshi]

Can I request Astarion x reader and he drinks from u when your standing and your legs buckle and you start to collapse from the blood loss but he catches you and Carries you to your bedroll and takes care of you?

Forgive me if it's rough, still trying to figure out the speech patterns!

Recommended Song: Ivy - SALES

It usually wasn’t often that Astarion asked to feed on you. Sadly, resources have been scarce, wild animals included. Anytime Lae’zel is out scouting she tries to bring something back for him, but to no avail. Recently, he had been asking quite often, and there is always an air of guilt in his question. 

“I’m sorry to ask my love, I just worry the others will see me differently, if I were to feed on one of them.”

It’s not as if your other companions aren’t aware of his situation, or the fact that you have to satiate him every once in a while. You think he simply feels like a burden, having to ask people for the very thing that sustains him. He just feels a little less like a burden when he asks you.

“Of course dear, no need to be sorry.”

You’ve gotten used to how this goes, as you’ve been travelling together for quite some time, and you and Astarion got smitten rather quickly. He’s always quite gentle, even if it does hurt at first. Instead of sitting down however, you continue working on stitching up a piece of your sleep-wear. With powerful magic from the likes of Gale and Shadowheart, you think such minute things could be fixed easily, but alas, they still require a realistic solution.

While you’re busy putting to work the simple stitch he taught you, Astarion moves to drink, wrapping you in a warm embrace. Many would think that the act of being drained of your own blood would be, well, terrifying, but something about it is quite intimate, heartwarming even. You don’t even really think about how your veins start running cold, how you start to feel much worse than normal. Then, you’re on the ground, needle and thread along with you. 

“Darling! I apologize, I should’ve had you lie down first, I should’ve-” 

He cuts off his own words as he scrambles to think. You’re still not fully there, but you want to tell him you’re fine. Sadly, eyes can’t always tell all. Even your parasite seems too drained to connect with him. When you regain some of your senses, you see that Astarion has brought you back to your bedroll, muttering something to himself, pacing the tent.

“I could’ve waited, I would’ve been fine. I-”

He pauses, realizing you’ve started to stir.

“Tav, darling, are you alright?”

You try sitting up, and he quickly moves to support your back, wrapping his arm around you waist.

“Yeah… yeah I’m okay.”

“I apologize, I knew it was a risk to feed on you again so soon. I put you in a terrible position, asking you like that.”

You reach to put your hand over his.

“No, it’s alright. I’ve become so nonchalant about it, I should’ve been much more considerate of the circumstances.”

He’s silent, trying to find another way to blame himself. The truth is, both of you were quite tired from the recent adventuring, and weren’t thinking straight. 

“I’ll tell them all we should stay at camp for another day. Or perhaps they can journey back to the Grove and we can stay for another evening.”

You tighten your grasp on his hand until he finally make eye contact with you.

“Astarion, it’s fine, truly. I’ll be fine tomorrow, come morning.”

You smile at him, despite the nausea caught in your throat. He feels bad enough, no use in making it worse. 

“Here, come lie with me.”

You meet the ground once again, and he joins you shortly after. He still has that look, that dreary mist across his eyes. Instead of trying to tell him in words, you nestle into his side, wrapping yourself around him, a way of saying ‘I still love you, no matter what.’ He leaves a kiss on your forehead, and finally lets the tension go. You close your eyes soon after, exhausted. Astarion never tells you, but he stayed awake and by your side the entire night, unmoving, just in case.

[macsimagines]

Izana, Kisaki + Mikey finding their girlfriend sleeping in one of their shirts, like willingly? 🧡

TW: YANDERE BEHAVIOR, ABUSIVE BEHAVIOR, NEGLECT, MENTION OF KIDNAPPING

Yandere!Izana Kurokawa

It started off with him kind of... not letting you leave his place. You came over for a late night booty call, and instead of demanding you get out of his face he wouldn't let you go that night.

Come the next morning and you wake up before him and you decide to dip before he can wake up and tell you to fuck off. Izana has never been overtly affectionate with you and you don't want to push him too far afterall.

But then you get a call later that day and he sounds...off.

"Hello-," "Just where the fuck are you, Y/N?" "O-oh? I woke up and left?" You tell him and you're so caught off guard by the slight annoyance in his voice what could you have done wrong?

"Why?"

And that throws you completely off. "Wasn't I supposed to?"

He doesn't answer. Just hangs up and you're left wondering what the hell happened, but you just shrug it off as maybe him not liking that one of his possessions left without permission...

The next time you two hookup, its the same thing. He's not trying to let you leave, and so you sleep over naked and just plan on wearing the same clothes you came in tomorrow. Except...

"I want you here when I get back, Y/N." He tells you before he leaves the next morning. And for whatever reason that look in his eyes means not to test him so you just sit around and wait for him all day.

But your clothes are kind of uncomfortable and its getting so laaaate. Izana wouldn't mind you borrowing one of his shirts right?

He really doesn't come back until 1am, and he's very happy you listened like a good girl, and even happier to see you dressed in one of his shirts while you sleep.

Izana thinks that he probably won't have to get your clothes from your old place. You could just use his. Ya. That'll be fine. Its his gift to you, for finally moving in with him where you belong.

Yandere!Kisaki Tetta

You're a true fucking brat. No really, you've somehow become the single biggest pain in the ass he's ever had to deal with. You throw out everything he buys you, you scream and demand your freedom at every turn, you're constantly trying to escape him...

But he loves you, really and truly adores you, and you're not going anywhere now that he's got you locked in his penthouse. He won't make the same mistake, he's going to keep this one alive. You'll just have to learn to love him.

Oh but your latest tantrum has him rethinking it all. You set fire to the apartment, burning all the clothes he bought you in the bathtub and almost getting the cops called.

But he was smart, smoothed over the situation and had you sedated before you could throw an even bigger fit. Honestly, some small part of him doesn't think you're worth the trouble but he comes home the next day and those thoughts are all dashed.

You're laying in one of his silk shirts, bundled into the sheets so sweetly he thinks he can feel his heart actually ache at the sight of you.

You're so precious, and perfect to him. "That was expensive," he'll try to say dismissively, he doesn't want you to think he's forgiven you for your little fit just yet, "I burned all the other ugly stuff you got me. At least your clothes are comfortable." "..."

He won't say anything after that, but he does make a mental note that perhaps the Gucci and the Balenciaga are probably not to your tastes. He should just get you things in the same style as him. Couples matching outfits could be nice.

Yandere!Manjiro Sano

Douchebag does not let you wear clothes he does not approve of. You belong to him and every aspect of your life belongs to him too, even what you wear.

And sometimes it's fine. Sometimes he's not around and you don't have to wear the skimpy dresses and designer shoes that hurt, sometimes you get to be comfortable and just chill out in your pajamas.

But you got too comfortable. He'd been gone for weeks again, because Micky comes and goes as he pleases, so you thought your usual fits would be fine.

Then he returns and for some reason he's pissed. It could be because the cops are on his ass, something didn't go his way or maybe his underlings were pissing him off, but for whatever reason for his rage he's decided he's going to take it out on you.

"What, Y/N? All the money I spend on nice clothes not good enough? You don't like the pretty thing I buy you?" "M-Mikey please-," "Too fuckin' good for the shit I give you?"

You're stripped bare and naked. For days. If you won't wear what he so graciously and lovingly gives you then you don't get to wear anything. And you're just shivering cold for a week straight trying to curl in yourself for any kind of warmth and comfort.

But after seven days of this hell you can't take it anymore. He doesn't even let you have sheets or blankets in your room anymore how the hell are you supposed to survive.

Thankfully, you find one of his discarded sweaters near the bed you two share and through it on without a second thought. You're nauseated because it still smells like him, but you can't bring yourself to take it off and be cold again.

You just snuggle into the fabric and finally find enough warmth and comfort to sleep that night. When Mikey comes home and sees you he realizes he's no longer angry. In fact, he's more than pleased.

"You just wanted to wear my clothes this whole time? That's fine. We'll share a wardrobe."

[kislnd]

something more - arthurtv~

synopsis: y/n comes back from a party leaving arthur jealous and a disagreement between them leads them to question where they really stand.

notes: ahhh this has been marinating in the drafts for way too long, i haven't written fics in such a long time, please forgive the quality & lmk if you liked it and want to see more!

warnings: slight angst, mentions of alcohol & hickeys

word count: 1.6k+

masterlist

y/n unlocked the door as quietly as she could manage, bracing herself for the loud click as she turned the key. slowly, she opened the door, again trying to avoid any noise. it was two in the morning, of course, and she didn't particularly want to wake up any of her housemates, especially with how busy they had been recently. she had been at a party, had some fun dancing, a couple of drinks but now she was tired, with the onset of a headache, and already regretting staying up this late.

"where have you been, y/n?" the familiar voice said in a low raspy mumble, causing y/n to nearly jump out of her skin.

"i was at that party i told you about before, and shush, you're shit at whispering" she shoots him a small smile, not that he could even see it due to the darkness engulfing the room, and turns to shut the door again trying to make minimal noise.

"oh right.." he trails off in thought, "don't you think you should have come home a bit earlier? we have to film early-ish tomorrow." usually y/n was so organised and rarely forgot anything but her appearance on arthur's channel (as per request by the viewers) had completely slipped her mind. a sober y/n would feel guilty and instantly apologise but with the alcohol coursing through her veins and clouding her mind, she began to laugh a little, "jeez alright mum, let me have a bit of fun", she grins, setting her bag down on the sofa and reaching over to turn on a lamp.

the soft orange glow illuminated the living room, allowing her to fully see arthur standing in the doorway wearing baggy trousers and a t-shirt with majorly messy hair. her heart jumped a little bit when she saw him, to say they were completely nothing would be a lie, she could swear they shamelessly flirted with each other, but it also hurt y/n a little to think that they weren't something either. a painful silence clung to the air, she could tell arthur wasn't best pleased with her. by now he would've already cracked a joke, an unfunny one, but one that would make them double over in laughter nevertheless.

"wow, you look a mess," y/n chuckles, taking in the sight and hoping to alleviate the awkwardness hanging over them.

"no shit sherlock," he folds his arms and raises his eyebrow, "you were the genius that woke me up," he adds, "and i could say the same for you,"

"shit." she curses under her breath, jogging towards the mirror above the fireplace.

"fair play," she continues after having seen the state she was in. an unfamiliar tinge of purple on her neck catches her eye, she brings her fingers up to it as a million questions circulate in her mind. when did i get this? what is it? is it even a hickey? did arthur notice?

"what are you doing?" arthur peeks his head further out of the doorway to inspect what y/n was doing. he spots the hickey and his mouth falls open, "or should i say who have you been doing?" y/n almost expected him to laugh at his own joke as he usually would but instead his expression remained unmoving. she swore she could see a glint of anger in his eyes but she couldn't be too sure. "i.." y/n starts, "i don't even remember," - to tell the truth, y/n had never been good at tolerating alcohol, it only took a few drinks to render the memories of the night hazy.

"whatever," arthur shot back, she could tell he was trying not to be too aggressive but there was still a hint of ice in his voice, perhaps even jealousy. "you don't have to believe me, i know i'm telling the truth and that's what counts," y/n immediately regrets saying that and winces, hoping she hadn't made him more angry. it was definitely a bad idea to be having a serious kind of talk after drinking, y/n wasn't sure she would be able to filter herself.

"y/n. i'm not dumb, i can see what that looks like and you're not good at lying,"

she sighs in defeat, it was so early in the morning and there was no need for an argument, she had already woken him up and this was sure to wake the rest of their housemates up, "okay...so let's say i do remember? what's it to you anyway?"

painstaking silence clung to the air as arthur tried to find his words. "i didn't-" she starts, trying to salvage what little words she could muster. "do you even like me?" is all he managed to say, genuine pain was laced in his tone. it's safe to say that y/n much preferred the silence.

"arthur-" she felt like crying, no, she was on the verge of crying, but she didn't dare show that. she knew that she was in the wrong, with forgetting about the shoot and now her stupid drunk words adding insult to injury, she had no right to cry. her mind raced with ways to fix it, she didn't want to cause another argument but equally, there was no reason to be arguing about such trivial things - she was not even his girlfriend.

"of course i like you but i thought we weren't anything." she starts, "we have been exclusively friends this entire time, you said that yourself."

"y/n. you know full well that isn't the case," his tone tainted with frustration. now y/n stood there, stunned. how could he mean one thing and say another? "listen to me, if that wasn't what you meant then why say it?" she folds her arms, "because i have never had any reason to believe we were more than friends."

"fine. i did say that, and i did mean it at a certain point," arthur pauses, carefully choosing his next words, "but now it's different."

"are you serious?" were the only words y/n found herself capable of saying.

"god y/n," arthur brings his hands to his eyes and rubs the sleep out of them in frustration, he begins to walk forward towards y/n, "can you really not tell?"

"tell what?" a small smile forms on her face, it was honestly comical that they were somehow having a deep conversation without her even understanding half of what arthur was saying. "remember, i'm drunk," she giggles.

"ah, i had forgotten how much of a lightweight you were," arthur chuckles, any awkwardness in the air had since gone and the original cosy atmosphere of their shared house returned, "i'll put it simply for you, drunk one-" he smiles and leads y/n over to the sofa, sitting her down and taking a seat by her side. "what i have been trying to say this whole time is that i want us to be more," y/n could feel arthur physically bracing himself for her reaction. "i see how it is," y/n's previously confused expressed had been replaced by a smug one, "you're jealous." she pokes her finger into his chest, "you're jealous because i might have a hickey from someone i don't even remember~" she smirks, putting on a singsong voice to emphasise her sheer enjoyment at this.

"yeah yeah, whatever helps you sleep at night." arthur rolls his eyes playfully, trying his hardest to push down any worries about it, and both of them laugh "but can you put me out of my misery here? do you feel the same?" y/n could tell that was a difficult question for arthur to ask but she didn't feel the answer was difficult at all, she knew it would be the one he wanted to hear. "of course silly," now she was sobering up she could be sure, sure about her feelings for arthur and sure about the 'hickey' on her neck. "and for the record, this hickey is just lipstick i think. i was dancing pretty closely with my friends before so," she brings her fingers up to her neck and swipes the area, sure enough, a purple-reddish residue remained stuck to her fingers.

arthur groaned, "oh my god." he sunk down into the sofa, praying it would swallow him up, "i can't believe i just confessed my love over that, god you must think i am such a loser." y/n giggled, "don't be embarrassed," she rested her back on the sofa to lie aligned with him, "you're cute when you're jealous." arthur was grateful for the dim lighting in the room, it helped mask the dusting of pink that was beginning to show on his cheeks. he swallowed thickly, "right. bed time i think," he stands abruptly, dragging y/n up with him, "we are filming tomorrow, remember?" now it was y/n's turn to groan, "i am so sorry about that," she said, referencing her earlier mistake.

instead of replying, arthur envelopes her in a warm hug, his entire body engulfing hers, like he had been waiting for this moment, for this different kind of intimacy knowing she was willing to be with him. "i can't believe you couldn't tell i liked you," she says smiling, her words muffled by his chest. "yeah well i was scared," arthur admits, "but i do promise to ask you out properly, like with flowers and stuff because this seems pretty pathetic." y/n hugs him tighter, "thank you," was the only thing she could say in the moment, she was feeling emotional but then again, everything was amplified by the remaining alcohol her body hadn't managed to process yet.

"let's get you watered, medicated and put to bed,"

"i feel fine now, like i could take on the world,"

"i do tend to have that effect on people," arthur grins, steering y/n in the direction of her bedroom.

[mondaymelon]

— 𝘆𝗼𝘂, 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿𝘀. ♥

:feat~ albedo, kaeya, zhongli, childe, ayato, thoma, alhaitham, kaveh x gn!reader:

⤷ sometimes, warm moments like these is what truly makes their love apparent.

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (open!) : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @achlysis, @swivy123, @solxima, @poweredbyghostadventures, @haliyamori

"May I... sketch you?"

ALBEDO's request is quiet - well-mannered as he's caught gazing at you with those deep turquoise eyes of his, holding a pencil aloft in one gloved hand.

"Go ahead." You let a smile cross your expression briefly, glancing up at him and letting your eyes meet. His stare is warm, contrasting to his usual blank expression that he wears so frequently. Your cheeks warm as his lips curve upwards into a gentle smile, and the quietest laugh escapes from his lips.

"Hm, if you keep looking at me with those eyes, I'm not sure if I'll be able to focus at all." His voice is playful, almost, before he flips to a new page in his sketchbook, which is set against his usual easel, and begins to draw.

And although only silence surrounds the two of you, occasionally accompanied by the gentle scratching of Albedo's sketching pencil moving across the paper, everything feels perfectly familiar.

Sunlight filters through the large windows, bathing the entire room in a cordial glow. From where you silently sit, you can feel your heart quicken at the sight of Albedo quietly standing, occasionally glancing at you with a diligent gaze.

It's clear that no words need to be shared between the two of you. The soft smile set on the male's face unmistakably says enough.

It's an expression that reads, "I love you." ♥

"Here, shall I order you another drink?"

KAEYA's voice seems to waltz in the thick air. Amongst the mixed chatter and low tones of the bar, his smooth one is something that stands out. His eye twinkles as he glances at you, slowly swirling the contents of his own glass with a distant amusement. "The night's just begun, after all."

"Ah, no thanks... I have work tomorrow." You sheepishly decline his offer, not wanting to wake up to a vicious hangover the next morning... which had happened the last time the two of you went out for drinks. It seemed that that was Kaeya's idea of "entertainment".

"Mm, very well. It's a pity, but I suppose I can't ignore your reasoning." With a short sigh and a loose shrug of his shoulders, he lets out a small laugh. "Ah, but since you won't be drinking any more, perhaps I'll make up for it?"

You don't understand his words... not until he takes the wine bottle off the table and downs it all with startling quickness.

"Kaeya!?"

"Ahaha... oh, maybe that wasn't such a great idea..." His body tips, his head lolling onto your shoulder with a drunken stupor. Kaeya holds his drink well, so it's certainly not everyday where you'll see the cavalry captain in such an intoxicated state. You can sense that something has changed in his gaze, from the way his interested gaze flicks up to your face from where he leans against your shoulder.

"Hm..." He mumbles it to himself, mostly, and it's something you're sure you weren't meant to hear, but you do.

"Haha... How could I be so lucky as to have you as my lover...?" ♥

"Love, are you tired? Come here."

ZHONGLI's expression is gentle, amber eyes warm as he lightly gestures to the space beside him. The evening air is cool, so his touch is inviting more than anything.

His gaze seems to melt as you sit beside him, body leaning against his. He's quick to move his arms, wrapping one around you, pulling you into the frame while the other stays by his side.

If you had glanced up at him then, you would've seen the gentle smile that spread across his features. Yet you didn't, and instead leaned into his warmth with a smile of your own.

Perhaps you're imagining it, but in the quiet of the night, you can almost hear Zhongli's heart beating alongside yours. Steadfast, strong. An unbreakable will.

And while you held such admiration for the male, he, in return, held such affection for you. You, the beacon of his attention and you, who had captured his heart obliviously.

Every second he spends with you is bliss - moments he will never take for granted.

Above you, Zhongli lets out a satisfied breath, running his fingers through your hair with an unimaginable delicateness. He stays there for a moment, musing to himself with twinkling golden eyes as he plays with your locks absentmindedly... although anyone who knows Zhongli is well aware that he is not one to be absent minded in any matter.

Ah, is he saying something? His words are quiet, so much so you can't hear them, but his lips move accordingly with every word.

"The day will come where we are not together, but until then, please, let me hold you for as long as it may last." ♥

"You can open your eyes now!"

CHILDE's game had been rather suspicious from the start - yet, the first thing you notice when you open your eyes is the glimmering excitement that seems to dance across his features. And while his amusement always had been somewhat plastic, some part of you knew that this enthusiasm was genuine. He takes your hands, his touch warm, and spins you around in a half-hug that seems to make you fly.

"Hey, do you like it?" His voice is higher-pitched - airy and hopeful.

Huh? Oh... he means-

You had meant to look at his surprise, but found yourself gazing distractedly at him instead. In his arms, he holds a bouquet of your favorite flowers, each and every bud fully in bloom, every petal pristine. How he got them to be so perfect, you might never know, but you can already feel a smile forming on your face.

A laugh escapes your lips as you throw your arms around the male, pulling yourself into his embrace. There's a moment of shock before he returns it, and you can see the way his own lips curve upwards.

His eyes are the same deep azure, void of light... and it'd likely be too much to hope that any sort of brightness would return to such, yet sometimes, in the late hours where you would be cuddled up beside him, there was no mistaking how his expression seemed to lighten at the sight of you.

"I love it." The words come out almost like a whisper, but the male hears it.

"And I love you." ♥

"Oh, were you waiting for me?"

AYATO's violet eyes seem to sparkle as he rounds the corner and spots you leaning against the wall, heedlessly standing there with a tentative air. "If you wanted to see me, you could've told one of my retainers... or, perhaps the thought hadn't crossed your mind in such haste?" There's a smirk on his face as he chuckles lightly.

"I just thought waiting for you would be faster." You pout, cheeks slightly flushed at his jesting.

Ah, there it was. The expression that had made him fall for you. The male can only laugh further. "Very well, then I suppose I'll have to indulge you then, correct?" He begins to walk down the hallway and gestures for you to follow suit. At the end of the corridor stands two armored guards, attentively glancing across the courtyard with weapon in hand. As the two of you cross them, they respectfully bow their heads.

"Commissioner Kamisato and esteemed guest, we greet you."

"Thank you." Ayato smiles, but it's one without warmth. "You are dismissed."

"...Pardon?" The first one seems dumbfounded, but the second seems to get the hint and tugs on the other's shoulder, leading them out of the area.

"Hm... now there are no prying eyes, let's talk, shall we?" He sits and you mimic his actions, watching with a flitting gaze as the Ayato himself stares at you, seemingly transfixed. "How have you been, love?" There's already two cups of hot tea set at the table, but somehow, he pulls a cup of boba from his sleeve instead.

And while you're telling him all about the day's occurrences, waving your hands about as you elaborate, you pause as you hear a quiet laugh emit from the male.

"Oh sorry, go on."

"You just look so beautiful right now... that I couldn't help but laugh at my good fortune." ♥

"Here, I made you this!"

THOMA beams warmly as he sets something on your head, a something that smells rather fragrant, like fresh vanilla. The blonde's smile is contagious, lethally so... from the way his spring eyes are glimmering excitedly, to the manner on how his expression brightened as soon as he had spotted you - everything about it, about him seemed to make your heart feel warm.

You glance up. Wind... Windwheel Asters? Weren't those the flowers from Mondstadt? Low and behold, there they were, stems intricately intertwined together, occasional leaves flourishing outwards as the heads delicately spin in the gentle breeze.

"A... A merchant came by and was selling some flowers from my hometown, so I thought..." Thoma's voice trails off as his face slowly grows redder. In a way, he's slightly ashamed. Perhaps he shouldn't have indulged in such a childish hobby, gifting you a flower crown? With the way your eyes have widened... do you dislike it-?

All those thoughts cease instantaneously as he feels something warm - your lips, pressed against his cheek as you give him a quick kiss. When you pull away, your happy expression is something that makes his eyes widen in surprise as he feels his heart soar.

"Ah, but now I feel bad..." You put a finger to your chin, pondering a thought. "You've given me such a priceless gift, yet I don't have a thing in return..." Instantly, Thoma is all over your slumped figure.

"Nono, please don't say that! You being here is the best gift I could wish for." ♥

"Are you done with this page yet?"

ALHAITHAM glances down at you. Your back is pressed against his chest, sitting in between his splayed legs comfortably as the male holds out his book for the both of you to read. As he breathes steadily, his chest rises and falls in a constant rhythm.

When you nod your head in approval, he flips the page, revealing the next. He's a fast reader, that much is apparent. You can't keep up with him, but he waits for you at the end of each and every one... and if he gets bored, he'll rest his chin on your head - or maybe even play with your hair, the slightest bit.

Sometimes, a distant part of you thought he reminded you of a cat.

But that was besides the point. The book isn't anything special - just more ancient Sumeru history, but the way Al Haitham is staring at every page so diligently would make one think that he's reading something incredibly riveting. You've seen that look before, now that you think about it. It's the certain type of gaze that you've caught Al Haitham using out of the corner of your eye. The type of stare that just spells out his infatuation.

You haven't even noticed that your eyelids have begun to flutter shut until the male's deep voice emits once more: "Are you tired?"

There's a faint smile on his face, an expression that one could easily miss. In your drowsiness, however, you still manage to catch it. "Mhm."

Silently he sets down his book, before placing a hand behind your head and pushing you closer. He closes his eyes, his breathing composed.

"If you're drowsy, get some rest... But stay here, would you?" ♥

"Darling, what... what are you doing here?"

KAVEH stands in the doorway, ruby eyes wide. His stance is stiff as he somewhat comes to his senses, whipping his head about in an almost comical manner. "Why are you here? Is he home??"

He sounds so anxious it's hard not to laugh. "I just wanted to see you, so..." Your words come out as more sheepish as intended, and you can see his harried expression lighten.

"You didn't talk to Al Haitham, did you?" There's a new edge in his voice, although his jitteriness has significantly eased since the start of the conversation. "And he didn't say anything weird to you, did he??"

Oh. The realization finally hits you. He's jealous, isn't he?

"No, not at all. I haven't even seen him, actually." A giggle manages to escape your lips, and Kaveh visibly brightens at your mood.

"Good. Then, should we get out of here before he decides to show up?" Kaveh opts to place his work things aside, leaving Murak on the table to fend for himself as he quickly piles his blueprints onto the coffee table, emptying the bundles in his arms. He takes your hand as soon as possible, his grip tight but comfortable.

As he tugs you along and out the door into the warm evening air, glancing back at you, his crimson eyes seem to shimmer.

"You're mine, and I won't ever let you forget that." ♥

(a/n) oops this took me much longer than it shouldve

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

43 / 800 words / Nikto and honeypot reader (or a double agent a la red sparrow)

...

When Nikto comes home--appears in the kitchen doorway, duffel bag pitched over one shoulder and boots dripping mud--you’re not ready. You’re certain he can sense it with the way his eyes cut into you.

You straighten up and pull a grocery list nearby across the counter to cover your notebook without breaking eye contact. “You’re home early.”

“Short deployment.” His bag thuds to the floor. He walks to you with heavy footsteps. When he reaches you, he towers over you, cold eyes looking you up and down. Examining the state of his woman. “Perhaps you were hoping for a few more days away from me.”

You look up at him, plastering an overly saccharine, obviously fake smile on your face. "Perhaps I was."

Nikto chuckles. “A mouth like that will get you in trouble.” He grabs your face in one of his large hands as he looks you in the eye, forcing you to keep that fake smile trained on him. “You ought to close your mouth and keep that pretty smile on your face. It’s your best feature.” He's in a good mood, but that won't stop him from reminding you of your place.

Your fake smile turns sharp. "Anything for my darling husband."

He pulls you in by his grip on your jaw, bringing you close enough to smell the lingering gunpowder on his skin--the smell of blunt death that hangs on the edges of his clothes.

“Your attitude is making me want to do things to you that would be too rough for you to handle, doll,” he purrs, his large fingers digging into the flesh of your cheeks.

"It'll have to wait if you want dinner."

“I can think of several other things you can do to prove your usefulness besides making my dinner.”

"After," you reply. You need to hear the details of his assignment, but he's always more pliant when he's spent. And it's easier to get him spent when he's full. Makes him docile.

Nikto can't help the grin that stretches across his scarred face at your words. His cold eyes smolder and he releases your face, his hands moving to your hips. “You are learning to be a good little wife for me. I’m impressed.” He leans in to kiss you. His hand slips down to your thigh and caresses the flesh underneath your skirt. “And how do I know you're not planning to ply me with food and liquor so I fall asleep before I have my way with you again?"

"Mm." You loosen the first button on your neckline, then the next, gratified when his eyes snap down to watch. You make sure he can see the lingerie you're wearing under your perfect housewife’s dress. "You’re never so early that I’m not ready to welcome you home, darling."

Nikto's eyes burn as he watches you pop open another button, drinking in the sight of you. A low groan rises in his chest at the barest, most teasing glimpse of the lacy number underneath. His fingers flex around your thigh. “You expect me to wait until bedtime before having you?”

"Of course. What kind of wife would I be to serve you dessert before dinner?"

“Make me wait too long and you’ll be sorry,” he says. “I haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. I expect you to spoil me rotten.”

"I intend to. Now, out of my kitchen." You smack his hand off you with your wooden spoon the way a teacher might smack a grabby student's hand with a ruler. "Out."

Nikto scoffs. He hates being teased and he hates being denied, but he likes your fire. And he can do as you ask if it means getting what he wants.

He grabs one of the cookies in the glass display dome on the counter and takes a bite. “Temper, doll,” he rumbles as he leaves the kitchen. “Don’t make me put you over my knee."

You watch him leave and return to your work, sliding the grocery list off your mission notebook along with the ingredients you need for dinner. You'll get the details you need for the dead drop tomorrow by giving your darling husband a full belly and as much sex as he needs to loosen his lips. As long as you pretend to be uninterested in his work and interested in his advances instead, you get what you need.

Still, you can't deny the way your heart beats faster in your chest when you remember the way he drank you in.

...

more kortac / masterlist

[xoxochb]

can i ask for a percy x daughter of zeus and it’s soulmate!au but only jason knows at first so he tries to get them together with the help of others and it’s really just cute and fluffy and reader and percy aren’t close at all

⋆·˚ ༘ * this love left a permanent mark

warnings: none

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of zeus

you spoke to percy jackson twice, both having awful timings. perhaps he could be considered a friend, you were unsure of the classification of your relationship with him

however when it came to you and a handful of other demigods practically living on a ship together you would speak to them more often, even if it was only something simple

when you met eyes with percy the first day on the ship you were unaware of another pair focused on the two of you- belonging to your roman brother. jason grace knew there was undeniable and insane tension between you and percy, and not the kind where you were aware of it, that was the worst part, you had been incredibly oblivious to notice the invisible string tying you to each other

and who better to get you and percy to speak other than the only daughter of aphrodite on the ship? jason went to piper the next morning and told her about the situation and a plan was made that day. from that day on they always made sure that percy would run into you or the other way around, always watching to see if you spoke. over time the more you began to see the son of poseidon the more you spoke to him. from then on you became friends, speaking as much as possible, sneaking in each others rooms (??) at night, sitting side by side at the table, normal friend things

today was a special day for you- except you were unaware of how special it would be. today a note would be slipped under your door signed by percy, asking you to meet him on the deck after everyone had gone to bed for the night. little did percy know, he would be receiving the same note, except signed by you

you invited annabeth to your room to help you get ready, she sits on your bed criticizing every piece of clothing you own

“how about this sweater and these jeans withhh…” you throw the clothing on your bed and reach underneath to grab your shoes “these docs?”

“are you going to take a walk around stars hollow?” she remarks

“okay” you cross your arms “then you find something”

she gets up happily and walks to your dresser, searching through your tops until she pulls out a simple floral shirt

“wear this instead of the sweater” she throws it on your bed with the rest of the clothes

“it’s freezing outside”

“exactly! you’ll get cold and he’ll give you his sweatshirt, how romantic!”

she takes the previous clothes sitting on your bed and organizes them back in your drawers. once she finishes she gives you a pat on the shoulder with encouraging words of comfort

“I’ll see you tomorrow. I want details”

and with that she walks out and you begin to dress. once finished you take a deep breath and make your way to the deck where you find percy already waiting

“hey stranger”

he turns around with a wide smile “I thought you’d never come”

you shake your head before placing your arms on the cold railing, staring out at the midnight sea

“so why’d-” - “why did you-”

you both break into a fit of giggles

“you go first” percy says

“why’d you invite me out here? not that I mind it, it’s beautiful but it’s freezing”

“you’re cold?”

you nod and percy wastes no time taking his sweatshirt off, handing it to you

damn annabeth! why must she always be right?

you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ before sliding the clothing piece over your head. It smells just like percy- the ocean and a hint of his cologne- and you never want to take it off

“uhm, anyways, I thought you invited me?” percy speaks

“no, you invited me”

you both pull out the notes you and revived, similarly showing it to the other

“this is the same handwriting” percy points out

you laugh “we’re totally being set up right now”

percy takes both your notes, throwing them in the water “I would’ve loved to be here with you regardless if we were set up or not”

a blush makes its way to your cheeks and you’re thankful for the dark of the night. you take notice in percy’s shivering state and hesitantly take his hand in yours

unbeknownst to the both of you, a golden string wraps around your intertwined hands. a golden string symbolizing soulmates, entwined souls meant to be for eternity. the moment is quiet, serene, however percy was sure his heart would combust any second when you move closer. he runs his thumb over your knuckles, a comforting action in most situations, but it encourages the butterflies to use their wings and fly through his insides. would it be too soon to kiss you?

he leans in, just about, but before he takes another step he searches your eyes for any signs showing you don’t want this, but your encouraging gaze tells him otherwise, so he takes the chance to connect his lips with yours in a passion-filled kiss. he hopes this moment never ends

little did he know you thought the same, in the same way you didn’t expect to have many moments like these in the future, and for eternity

[jasmineoolongtea]

Okay I have a weird request but since you're so good at writing I'm gonna shoot my shot lol. No pressure though! How about a huge misunderstanding between reader and jjk men (and boys), where one is somehow convinced the other is cheating (tho they're not and are totally loyal!) and it causes a big argument with one of them walking out and saying "I'm done." But then when they realise there was no cheating going on it's soft and sweet and full of apology? You can add whoever you'd like, though would love to see Gojo, Geto and Nanami!

a/n: hii anon thank you for your compliments <333 honestly when i saw the words 'weird request' i was thinking in a completely different direction from this but this request is totally normal so do not worry about it at all !!! also so sorry this took a while to get out back to you anon i had to study for and take my driver's licence test ;-; hope i can do your request justice and hope you enjoy it !!!

if anyone had asked gojo satoru what he thought of his relationship, his answer would undoubtedly be that it was rock solid, that nothing could ever phase the two of you, not even the end of the world, and he would probably take off with a skip in his step as he makes his way to go shower you in affection.

so then, if that was true, why was there a pang of an ugly and uncomfortable feeling making its way up his throat at the sight of someone else's jacket wrapped around your figure.

"i'm home, toru!" you cheerily announce, as usual, exhaustion from the day melting off your body as you shed your belongings at the entryway to your apartment. it's been a long day and there's nothing more that you would like to do than to slink back into bed and into your lover's forever warm embrace.

however, unlike usual, satoru does not greet you with a bright grin to sweep you up in his arms and pepper your face with kisses. instead, he stands motionless in the hallway, his face a mixture of emotions. he doesn't meet your eyes, choosing to glare at the new unfamiliar article of clothing with a sense of contempt.

eerily, satoru is silent. you can't help but attempt to shake off the feeling that something's wrong.

"what's that?" he asks, monotone, his voice is devoid of its typical energy and affection like you're nothing more than a stranger, or perhaps something even worse.

"oh, this?" you look down at yourself and suddenly remember that you were still wearing your co-worker's jacket. "ah right, i forgot a co-worker gave this to me earlier when i was complaining that the ac was too cold." you remark, brushing past him as you move to hang up the jacket on the apartment's coat rack.

you hum absent-mindedly to yourself as you do, thinking to yourself that satoru just probably had a rough day, no thanks to the higher-ups of course, and that was the reason for his strange demeanour today. your back is facing towards him as you pipe up, "remind me tomorrow to return this to him when i head for work."

'him', a bitter taste fills his mouth. there's a heaviness at the bottom of his gut, one that threatens to pull him down with it the more he thinks about it. he soon realises what this feeling is; it's jealousy, an emotion that he thought he was better than, that is gnawing its way into his mind and his vision becomes clouded. he grits his teeth, his jaw tense up.

"right, of course, you're in such a hurry to see him again." he scoffs off-handily to himself. there's a bitter edge to his words and this doesn't go by unnoticed by you.

you turn to face him fully, your lips drawn into a tight line. there's a hidden insinuation lying behind his words, one that you don't necessarily appreciate. "what are you trying to imply here, satoru?"

he decides it would be better to spit it out than to let it fester there on the tip of his tongue. "are you seeing someone else?"

your jaw drops at his accusation. "are you serious? is this really how you see me satoru?" you question, your beautiful face twisting into an expression of deep pain.

a wave of regret instantly washes over him.

satoru doesn't respond and you take his silence as his answer. your throat suddenly feels tight as you choke out, "look, if you're really going to be like this. i-i don't think i can do this anymore." you turn away from him, making your way towards the entrance as you hurriedly scoop up your belongs in a half hazard manner.

you're unsure on whether or not it's sadness or anger that's tugging at your heart right now but what you do know is that there's a sense of betrayal that lingers in the air.

"wait." he pleads, the previous stupid jealousy he might have felt before is long gone by now and all he's left with is the burning pain of regret. if there was an option to undo everything he just said he would take it in a heartbeat.

he reaches out to you and makes a desperate last attempt to stop you from leaving by holding onto your wrist. "please, wait can we talk this out?"

his much larger hand engulfs your wrist and you can't deny how pained his voice sounds and how it tugs at your heart, begging you to stay, but then you remember how fresh the pain was of being accused by someone you thought would be able to trust you wholeheartedly and so, you shrug him off.

"i'm done. goodbye, satoru." you walk out as the door slams closed behind you, leaving him alone to stew in regret.

it's been 10 hours since you left, rightfully so with how he was behaving like an insecure ass to you, and it's been 4 hours of failed attempts to sleep off the ache he feels growing in his chest. he doesn't know why he had acted like that, accusing you of such things completely unwarranted and maybe if he was going to be more purposefully obtuse, he might blame it on the green-eyed monster but even he knows that it would just be a poor deflection of blame.

exhausted from hours of self-inflicted insomnia, he rolls out of bed and stares at the mess of white sheets left in your wake. satoru always slept better when he was with you and now he's just gone and ruined one of the best things he's ever had.

would it be so terrible if he put aside his pride to go begging for your forgiveness for his stupidness? he sure as hell doesn't deserve it right now but he knows that he'll hate himself forever if he never tries. and so, that's how satoru finds himself at your doorstep, soaking wet from the rain and knocking on your door.

against all odds, you answer, though obviously just barely having escaped the clutches of sleep as you rub your eyes tiredly. you're greeted with the sight of him standing at your door and all the conflicting feelings that you tried to bury away previously come crawling back up.

"...what are you doing here, satoru? it's like 2am." you're completely drained and not in the mood for a screaming match if that is what he's here for.

he looks haggard in all senses of the word. his hair is tousled in a sweaty mess from tossing and turning around a bed that feels way too empty with wisps of white hair clinging to his forehead. his clothes are dishevelled in a way which tells you he just threw on the first thing he found in his haste to make it to your apartment and the skin under his eyes is hollowed out as he stares at you with red-rimmed eyes.

gojo satoru looks defeated, to say the least.

"i'm sorry, for everything," he starts off, his chest heaves up and down with shaky breaths. you're not sure if it's him shivering from the rain or just his nerves. "truly deeply sorry." his voice is totally devoid of malice and instead it's more like the satoru you know and love but with a new found rawness and vulnerability to it.

you're not sure what to say, avoiding his gaze as best as you can as you fidget with the sleeves of your hoodie, the one that you stole from him ages ago. he notices that and there's a flutter of hope in his heart, but he pushes on with his apology, choosing to not let himself get carried away with that.

"i'm stupid, okay? i'm a monumental idiot." you laugh slightly at that. he takes that as a good sign and that ball of hope within him grows a little stronger. satoru takes a deep sigh, as if to steady himself before continuing.

"i don't know why i said that and you don't deserve any of those thoughts or accusations okay? hell, i'm pretty sure i don't deserve you with how i've been acting today. you don't need to forgive me or anything but i just want you to know i'm sorry."

"satoru-"

"-and i know that and if you want to punch me or kick me to the curb that's also completely fine. i won't blame you i pro-" he's suddenly cut off by the tug of his t-shirt and the feeling of soft, warm lips, your lips, against his as he falls into an awe-struck silence. your lips part from his and he already feels that he's gone on for too long without them.

you smile at him, the corners of your eyes crinkling slightly and he can feel all of the regret that was eating him alive before melting away, like fallen snow when the spring sun makes its glorious return back to earth. "yes, i forgive you, you massive fool. you're definitely an idiot but you're my idiot."

he takes your hands in his and brings them up to his lips, whispering into them,

"that's right, i'm yours."

you know the phrase 'seeing is believing'? yeah, geto suguru thinks that's probably one of the dumbest phrases he's ever had the pleasure, or displeasure in this case, of hearing. there's a lot of things that you can't see but you can still believe in; an example would be gravity. you don't need to see it to know that it exists and believe in it so why is visual confirmation the default that people go to?

that is until he saw you in the arms of someone else and maybe, in that moment, he realised that the phrase might have more merit to it than he had originally placed on it.

honestly, you were already having an awful day. you had just barely the train to your work by the millisecond so you were left waiting around for 5 minutes before the next train came and much to your chagrin, you were left standing for the entirety of the 20-minute journey and had officially arrived at your workplace late.

to pile on to that, you remembered that you had very conveniently forgotten all of the things you needed to bring in for that very specific day and had to do the whole journey again to avoid incurring the wrath of your boss.

and the cherry on top? it was running into that co-worker that you hated with all your guts and getting their coffee spilt on your very nice white shirt, whether intentionally or unintentionally you'll deal with that issue later.

however, this left you with an embarrassing large stain right front and centre for the rest of the day until the universe decided to grant you a small mercy by having your other co-worker offer you a spare change of clothes which you gratefully accepted. as you did, you could feel the pointed stares of the other members of your workplace burning angry holes through your back which only left you with an unsettling feeling in your gut. albeit, you brushed it off quickly as you couldn't really linger on the issue.

it was always like this when you two interacted in both a friendly and professional capacity. the occasion or even context of the interaction didn't matter to the rest of them when all they saw was the office crush acting nice with you and you reciprocating this niceness to an extent that made them seethe with jealousy over the fact that it wasn't them.

maybe they should learn that they could get his respect by treating him as a person rather than an object to fawn over but again, that was a conversation for another day and they should have known that you only had eyes for one man, in the form of your boyfriend suguru, anyways.

suguru wasn't someone who was super public about his affection for you with grand displays of PDA, but what mattered to you and him was that he showed in ways that were important to both of you and that was enough.

that was why he found himself standing at the door of your workplace, a small bouquet of your favourite flowers in hand, waiting to surprise you and pick you up the moment you were done with your shift. he leans against the cool surface of the cement wall behind him and imagines the delighted look on your face when you see him there. his lips curve into a slight smile at that mental image.

he glances at the watch on his wrist, a present from you from a previous anniversary and one he treasured deeply as evidenced by the fact that there was barely a scratch on its glass shell, and silently counts down the minutes in his head. while lost in his own thoughts, he fails to notice a group of employees passing by him though he does manage to pick up bits and pieces of their fleeting conversation.

"can you believe them? throwing themself all over him like that?" one voice chides.

"i know right? it's like they have no shame at all." another adds bitterly.

"you know, it makes me think that there's something going on between them." and that earns them a chorus of agreement from their little group.

suguru pays them little mind though, believing it to be just simple office gossip that he could care less about unless it was coming from you, then he would be hooked on every single detail you fed him like his life depended on it. he hears footsteps from around the corner and notes an all-too-familiar giggle as the people emerge. it's you and he walks forward a bit more to see if he can spot you.

however, he's greeted with an awful sight. the source of your melodic laughter appears to be the man standing next to you and before you two part, he leans down to give you a hug, one that you seemingly receive with open arms. there's a sinking sensation at the bottom of his stomach when he watches the both of you linger for a second.

when you part, not before thanking your co-worker again for his kindness, you turn around and notice suguru standing a few metres in front of you. "sugu? what are you doing here?" you ask, pleasantly surprised by his sudden appearance and you light up with happiness at the sight of him. you stop in your tracks when you realise he hasn't made a single move to greet you.

the smile on your face drops slightly as your eyebrows furrow in concern for his strange stillness. you take a step closer towards him but he remains still as a statue. there's the sound of crumpled paper as his grip tightens around the bouquet that he's still holding.

you're both silent for a second before he speaks up.

"are you cheating on me?" though his question is straightforward, his tone is unsure.

he doesn't want to believe that you could be doing that but he can't help but draw his own conclusions about what he just saw, especially in light of the comments he overheard which now suddenly make sense if he looks at them from this newfound angle.

a look of betrayal flickers through your eyes at his words. there's an undeniable bitter aftertaste in his mouth that he can't swallow down.

"is that you really think this is?" there's a pained edge to your voice and you can feel an uncomfortable tightness around your throat as you try to fight back the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes.

"suguru, i would never do that! we're just co-workers, don't you believe me?" he doesn't look at you, choosing to actively avoid your gaze instead and you can feel yourself faltering as the grim reality of the situation dawns on you with solemn resignation.

"you know, suguru, i've had a really awful day today and this is not helping at all. i'm done with this. goodbye, suguru." and before he can say anything, you brush past him as you make your way to god knows where. as you walk off, he finally realises that the sinking feeling in his stomach is regret.

after you dissapear into the twisting streets, suguru is overwhelmed with this awful feeling of regret as he realises how rash he was in jumping to a conclusion that had no basis aside from some stupid off-handed comments he overheard and a hug that could very well just be only friendly and nothing more. all he can think about is apologising to you and hopefully finding a way back into your good graces again.

unfortunately for him, you've turned off your phone so he can't even call you to find out where you are but even if it was on, he doubts that you would even pick up and that is definitely deserved on his behalf. he stops and thinks to himself for a moment and decides to take a chance on the first place he can come up with.

thankfully, his gut is right and he finds you sitting on a grassy hill, your grassy hill with him, absent-mindedly plucking up strands of grass before discarding them. there's the sound of grass crunching underneath shoe soles as suguru takes his place next to you.

"what are you doing here, suguru?" you're not looking at him and he can feel a pang of pain in his chest.

"had a feeling you would be here."

you scoff half-heartedly. a shaky breath escapes your lips as you turn to him, your eyes are slightly red-rimmed and there's an unmistakable shimmery glean to your cheeks from your tears. another tug of his heart. "what do you want? because it seemed like you were pretty much done with me at that point."

"i want to apologise." there's a look of surprise on your face as you turn to him and he continues, his voice raw and vulnerable as he continues, "i want to say sorry for taking and not even listening to the most important side of the story, you. so please, and spare no details, tell me what happened today."

you pause for a second as if to consider his words and examine his sincerity, and then you nod and he can feel a sigh of relief leave him. as you relay to him the true details of your day, you notice how his expression becomes more and more apologetic as the facts of the story finally come to light.

he leans against your shoulders and envelops you in his arms. you reciprocate his touch, snaking your own arms around his waist and he sinks his head into the crook of your neck.

"i can't stress how sorry i am." his voice is muffled against your collarbone as you rest your chin upon his head. his hand finds yours and squeezes your hand reassuringly.

"you know you have a lot to make up for right?" he looks up at you, violet eyes gazing into your own, and hums in agreement as he places a soft kiss against your hand.

"anything for you, angel."

nanami kento was a man who believed that it was his duty to silently bear all of the things that came his way, no matter the cost, and this made him someone that many people could always rely on which has earned him a similar reputation in many facets of his life. unfortunately, this benefit did not extend to his relationship.

you knew all this when you got into a relationship with him including his workaholic tendencies and so you were never too disappointed when a dinner for two would turn into a dinner for one.

even if they became more frequent, you would always be able to go to sleep with the knowledge that you would wake up next to a head of blonde hair and a pair of strong arms wrapped around your waist as the steady beat of your two hearts in sync filled the relative silence of your shared bedroom.

until, one day, you began to wake up cold and alone, lost within the expanses of the sheets without his arms there to tether you to a world with him by your side. the only shreds of evidence that he was actually there and not just a figment of your touch-starved imagination was the slight indent of the mattress left in his wake and a messily scribbled note which read 'woke up early for work, breakfast is in the fridge.' which felt just as cold and devoid of affection as the room you currently were in.

phone calls became less frequent as well and seeing kento in the flesh was more like trying to find a four-leafed clover in a field full of clovers. explanations were short and choppy and to you, they felt like simply a courtesy on his part rather than genuine truths.

with his presence fading even more and more from the apartment and your life, you couldn't help but start to wonder if there was more behind these excuses and perhaps, he had decided to move on from you and onto someone else. these worries even followed you from your waking hours into your dreams and so you made your mind up to stay up and wait for his return to finally confront him about his behaviour.

now sitting there at your kitchen table, fingers absent-mindedly drumming against the wood surface as you anxiously watch the seconds tick down on the clock and await his arrival. tick tock, tick tock. the sound of the clock echoes off the walls of the apartment.

there's an uncomfortable ball of anxiety gnawing at the insides of your stomach. if the truth didn't kill you, the waiting was definitely going to be the one to put the final nail in your coffin at this point.

much to your relief, or worst fears, there's a jangle of keys coming from outside the door and it soon cracks open to reveal a very tired and worn down kento as he makes his way into the apartment and begins to unload his belongings in the entryway. he's halfway through with removing his suit jacket when he finally notices you sitting there, stone-faced aside from your lips which you nervously bite at, and a worried sigh escapes him.

he makes his way towards you and takes a seat opposite from you. under the fluorescent lights of the kitchen, you're able to get a much better look at him and while his hair is perfectly styled back as usual, there's an air of exhaustion radiating from him as you take note of the darkness of his eyebags and the seemingly permanent grimace that he sports, a far cry from the looks of domestic bliss that you would always be greeted with previously.

"what are you doing up so late, my love? you should be asleep by now or else you'll be tired tomorrow for work." his voice is full of concern for your well-being when it should be the least of his worries at this point with how burnt out he was. you're pretty sure that his cheekbones are more pronounced from the lack of full meals rather than simply his genetics.

a pang of guilt hits you in your gut, of course, he's still so fixated on you taking care of yourself when he clearly is the one who needs the advice even more, but you know that this needs to come out sooner or later. you steel yourself with a shaky breath.

"where have you been?" you ask, uncharacteristically cold. he can tell that there's something off with you but he chooses not to comment or push on it.

"i've been at work, trying to finish something for the higher-ups before tomorrow." his tone is straightforward and blunt and you can't tell if he's giving you a rehearsed answer or a truthful one.

you look down at your hands. "is that really all it is?"

"what do you mean?" his eyebrows furrow in confusion. you're not sure if this is genuine confusion or if he's just playing you for a fool.

you sigh, exhausted. you can feel the corners of your eyes start to burn with tears but you attempt to blink them away to the best of your ability. "i can't take these late nights and weak excuses anymore, kento. if there's someone else, i would rather you just say it."

he doesn't say anything and you grit your teeth as you solemnly accept that as his answer. you quickly stand up from your seat but before you can go anywhere, you're stopped in your tracks by the feeling of his calloused hands on your forearm.

"wait, please, dear-" he pleads softly.

"i'm done, kento." you cut him off before he can say anything else but he strides over to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

"love, please." he implores, his brown eyes full of sincerity as he tries his best to convince you to hear him out. "please, stay and let me explain, just for a minute and that's all." you don't pull away from his touch and he offers you a grateful smile.

"the late nights and overtime are to save some time off for a vacation. a vacation with you." before you could even open your mouth to speak, he silently stops you with a gentle caress to the cheek and manages to render you both speechless and breathless in a single move. "i know you're worried about me overworking myself so i wanted to surprise you and finally make my promises to you come true."

you're instantly hit with a sense of regret as you realise that your overthinking and fear might have cost you something so precious and at the thought of potentially having lost him, you can't help but throw yourself into his open embrace and bury your face into the rumpled fabric of his button up.

a soothing hand finds its way to your back as he attempts to comfort you. he's so good to you and sometimes you wonder if you really deserve it. "i'm sorry, ken. i shouldn't be jumping to conclusions and accusing you of such things." you confess, your voice slightly muffled against his chest. "you've been nothing but kind and loving to me and all i can say is that i'm sorry."

"it's alright, my dear. i should be sorry as well. i shouldn't have been so guarded when you're asking even if it's for a surprise." he adds himself and then there's the fleeting warmth of his lips against your forehead before his arms tighten their grip around you as if to reassure you that he wasn't going anywhere.

"so you're not mad at me, kento?" you ask gingerly, glancing at his face to find a fond expression looking back down at you, not a single bit of anger or annoyance to be detected on any of his features.

"you, dear? i could never be angry at you."

[themultifandomgal]

Can I get a little something with either Kelly Severide or Matt Casey please where he sees the readers baby bump for the first time? Perhaps it becomes really prominent and he soon becomes obsessed with it

Kelly Severide- Little Baby Bump

YN and Severide wanted to have a baby for a while. They knew that as soon as they got married they would try for a baby, but unfortunately for them it took a lot longer than they thought for them to conceive. A year later after trying YN started to have pregnancy symptoms like morning sickness, swollen breasts, tiredness.. etc. Of course Kelly was immediately at the nearest shop to get some pregnancy tests and got home in record time. Within a few minutes they were celebrating the fact that they were going to be parents.

That was 5 months ago and while YN has been looking a little bloated there wasn't a prominent baby bump until today. The weather in Chicago has been rather nice recently, so YN gets dressed into a maxi dress. What she doesn't realise is that the dress being tight fitting shows off her small baby bump. YN leaves her shared bedroom with Kelly and heads downstairs into the living room where Kelly is sat watching the TV

"Is it just me or is it really warm?" YN asks

"Just you babe. Well it's warm, but not..." Kelly stops when he sees his wife. Kelly looks at her little bump

"What? Is their a stain on my dress" YN goes to look down

"No it's just, your bump is showing"

"What?" Kelly takes YN's hand and guides her back upstairs to their bedroom where there is a full length mirror "Kel what are you..."

"Look" Kelly stands behind YN rubbing her little bump "our little baby is in there"

"We've waited a long time for this" a tear falls from YNs eyes.

That night YN and Kelly lay in bed together, Kelly rubbing her bump ever so slightly before sitting up and little and then leaning down

"Hey little one. Mummy and daddy can't wait to meet you. Tomorrow we're going to paint your bedroom, well I am. Mummy is going to keep out of the room because of the fumes instead she's going to sort out the millions of clothes she's bought" Kelly laughs making YN chuckles. Kelly lays back down on his back, YN turns over so that she can lay on Kelly's chest

"I love you Kel"

"I love you too" Kelly replies before they both fall asleep.

The following day Kelly, Matt and Jay go upstairs to build the baby furniture and paint the walls while YN and Gabby sort through the already washed baby clothes and the ones that need to be washed. Again the weather is warm so YN is wearing another maxi dress with the air con on. She notices Gabby shiver a little

"Sorry if it's to cold, I've just been so hot"

"No it's ok don't worry"

"I'll grab you a jacket" YN gets up smoothing down her dress

"I bet Severide is excited about being a dad"

"Very. Last night he spoke to the bump, then all night he would either be holding my bump or stroking it a little" YN grabs a jacket off the back of the dinning room chair and hands it to Gabby

"You guys are so sweet. Your going to be amazing parents. Just remember I am godmother" Gabby jokes

"Of course. You want a drink? Bet the boys will want a beer"

"I'll just have a soda"

"Ok" YN goes into her kitchen and opens up the fridge grabbing 2 sodas, one for her and one for Gabby. She then grabs 3 beers for the boys upstairs. YN takes the beers let's Gabby know her soda is in the kitchen while YN takes up 3 beers.

YN opens up the nursery room looking at the sweaty men in front of her

"Beer anyone? It's cold"

"Thank you YN" Matt walks over to her smiling

"What are you doing in here? The fumes..."

"Won't hurt for a couple of minutes. The rooms looking good" Kelly wraps his arm around YN's waist rubbing his thumb up and down against her bump slightly

"How's the clothes folding coming along?" Jay asks taking his own beer

"Ok rather be in here helping you guys, but I'm way too hot" YN chuckles "I better get back downstairs, left Gabby folding"

"We'll be down in a bit" Kelly presses his lips to YN's forehead before kneeling down to place a kiss on her bump.

Since YN started showing, Kelly has been constantly touching and kissing the bump. Basically he's obsessed. Kelly is going to be one of the most amazing dads ever.

[cloudluvrrr]

give some fluffy sephiroth headcanons and my life is yours (i’m not sure where to put requests so i’ll just do it through inbox)

notes - YAYAYAY ofcc mathing userrs 😍 💗💗

-- ♡

sweet- lana del rey

-- crisis core

- He’d be very gentle, since he has a lot of strength and is fucking huge

- He’d be very gentle hugging and cuddling you (he thinks he’ll crush you like a bug)

- From all his missions he’d bring you a small souvenir

- I also feel like he wouldn’t be much for pda, but he does lead you places. and sometimes holds your hand and kisses the back of it.

- On his days off he’d spent the entire day with you. Either shopping or in your shared apartment.

- He’s very cuddly

- He’s a little dumb about simple things since he spent a lot of his childhood in a lab so it’s bound to happen

-he'll read lifestyle books with reading glasses

- Whenever he has the chance he talks about retiring, living in a small town and living a domestic life (and potentially finding his mother)

- He’ll get into whatever your interests are even teach you new things about them

- He lets you play with his hair while he looks through paper work or if he’s in a really good mood do his makeup

-he'll let you brush it, braid it, put it into bows.

- I also feel like he’d fall in love with Someone from a small town rather than someone from midgar

-potentially bringing them from there to midgar.

- He likes animals, I feel like he’d be very happy if his s/o had a cat (bonus if it looks like him 🤓☝️)

- I feel like he lives in a big fucking apartment with no furniture cause he sees no point, but eventually when he started to court you he’ll slowly add more furniture. (His hearts flutters when you compliment it)

- I feel like he can cook nibelheim doesn’t count) he’ll often cook, it’s simple but they’re yummy (like him)

-He'll do most of the chores, since he's always does them anyways.

-He wears a pink cat apron

-hes so cute i wish he wasn't fucking insane

-

he sat in bed reading one of his cook books, as the bathroom light was on. Meaning you were of course getting ready for bed, eventually getting into bed with him. You read along with him making a few comments at the dishes that were pictured

Till he put it away and got comfortable with you.

"I think I'll retire after this mission" he began burying his nose into your freshly washed hair.

"oh? so soon" you asked playing with a few strands of his hair

"yes.. perhaps it can help me find my mother.. nibelheim has intersting history i hear"

"oh.. when do you leave?"

"ah, tomorrow afternoon, this will be our last night together for now"

he adds with a small chuckle. and a sigh.

"goodnight my love" he said softly kissing your hair and turning off the lamp

---

this was short but hopeu liked 💞

im tryingto be serious but i fear im too funny

NY STUPUD ASS SAVED AS A DRAFT INSTEAD LF POSTD IT 😭😭

Also when u make first class u can choose ur uniform WHO MADE HIS SLUTTY OIFIT

im so nor mal about this game

feel free to request more for ff7 😈😈😈

[multific]

The Ink Under Your Skin

Vincent De Gramont x Reader

Summary: Vincent wonders why you never wear short dresses, he assumed you were covered in scars so he didn't ask. But then, one evening he realizes just how wrong his assumption was.

He watched as you entered his office wearing another long-sleeved shirt with long pants. The only skin you showed was your neck and your decolletage.

Even if he longed to see more of your skin, he knew better than to ask. 

The truth was that he absolutely adored you. Being the one to finish many missions for and with him the two of you grew even closer after John Wick.

And now, Vincent noticed the small things about you.

One was that he had never seen more of your skin revealed.

He figured you might have scars due to your line of work.

But he was dying to know more to see more of you.

He knew your flirting was only a game, but he wasn't sure anymore.

"Here is the coin you asked for and the extra." you said as you placed a briefcase on his desk. 

"Perfect. Merci." he said and you only nodded as he checked everything.

Everything was perfect, yet again.

"Do you have anything else for me? Or can I go home?"

"Go home, rest for a bit. I have an event coming up, you are invited. The event will be the opening of the new Continental."

"Oh, lovely, I shall go then. Will you text me the details?"

"I don't expect you to come as a member of my... ring. More as a date."

"Date?" now that caught you off guard but then you smiled and gave him a nod. "Alright, I'll make sure to wear something nice."

"And short." he said immediately and you looked at him in the eyes.

"Nice and short, you got it. Then, wear that black suit I like so much."

"I'll be sure to impress. The opening is tomorrow. I'll pick you up."

On your way out, you made sure to sway your hips just a little bit more. 

Only to impress him.

And he was impressed.

---

The next morning you received a text saying Vincent would be there to pick you up at 5pm.

You knew how sharp he was, so you knew better than to waste time.

You picked out your favourite short dress and got into the bath.

You did your hair, make-up and finally, you were all done.

When your doorbell rang, you quickly gave yourself one last glance.

As soon as the door opened, Vincent's jaw hit the floor.

You looked stunning and now, he understood why you were always wearing long clothes.

You were covered in tattoos.

Almost every inch of your skin was covered by ink.

Various things were craved into your skin. Many resemble you as a person, your likings but Vincent also noticed a couple of achievements.

"Ready?" you asked as his eyes never stopped roaming your skin.

All he could do was simply nod. 

On your way to the new hotel, you two sat at the back while his driver was focused on the road. You were looking out the window, looking at the people you passed when you suddenly felt his hand on your thigh. You looked at him but he wasn't looking at you. Instead, Vincent was focusing on his phone, so you let his hand stay near your knee.

All night, he kept staring at you, more than usual.

Normally you didn't care when people looked at you a certain way because of your tattoos.

But with Vincent, it did bother you.

You liked him.

Perhaps more than you should like a psycho like him.

But you weren't much better.

Working with him did rub off on you maybe in the wrong way.

But you liked working with him.

He was too charming for his own good.

And he definitely thought he was a lot more slik than he actually was.

He really thought he could be staring at you like that and you wouldn't notice.

But you did like to play dumb.

Men liked dumb women.

If you reveal to him that you knew about his attention all along, he would bail.

So, you played your part for as long as you could.

You stood out on the balcony, looking at New York when someone stepped beside you.

"Nice view."

"For me, New York is not that impressive."

"I wasn't talking about the city." Vincent said as his eyes roamed all over your body. "I never imagined you would have tattoos, let alone so many of them."

"Do you not like it?"

"I do." his reply was immediate, making all of your doubts fly out the window.

"I won't lie, I was a bit worried about your reaction."

"Why so?"

"People around us only have tattoos related to their work... I have my interests."

"Which is why I adore them even more." his hand moved to your forearm, letting his thumb run down the skin, he watched in adoration.

"I need to know Vincent." you spoke and looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. "I need to know if you are only interested in me so I would work for you."

"You already work for me. I don't need to seduce you in order to convince you to do things for me. I will say this, it is quite the opposite, I believed for a while that you were the one seducing me so that you could get more money perhaps. At least I know the money went to a good place." he said as his hand moved to your waist

"I'm getting a new one done next week." you smiled. 

"Perfect." he whispered as he leaned down and his lips met yours in a short yet sweet kiss.

Who knew that the ink under your skin would be the breaking point for the two of you.

Vincent Taglist: @l4venderia

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred  @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak   @manduse   @jacalineiscomingforyou  @mandoloriancookie @noname2246

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[tumbleweed-run]

A Perfect Date With Gale

@arachnethebard perhaps not what you intended but this is what happened

Since you got to Waterdeep with Gale he's been insistent that the two of you go on a 'perfect' first day... despite the fact that the two of you are already engaged.

Perfection is such a difficult thing to achieve.

1600 words because I'm physically incapable of brevity.

PG (for once)

Gale has been talking about giving you a “proper first date” for entire month you two have been in Waterdeep. Never mind the fact that you two are engaged. He’s been focusing on it near daily. Every time he brings it up you smile and nod. It’s not that you wouldn’t enjoy a nice night out exploring the city, but it’s not about that. 

“Tomorrow night,” he announces one night as he enters the study.  You’re petting Tara, tactfully ignoring a light smear of blood around her mouth… the tower is always miraculously free of rodents. 

You find new clothes draped over a bench in the bedroom the following afternoon. You admire them for a moment, almost hesitant to touch them. They’re finer than anything you’ve worn in years, possibly ever. But despite your mild apprehension over the likelihood of destroying them before you step foot out of the tower, you don them. Gale did go through the trouble, and expense, procuring them for you. 

Gale greets you outside the room, looking as though he’s been waiting the entire time you’ve been inside. You chuckle to yourself at the thought, given that it was once just his room. 

He’s wearing almost traditional wizard’s robes but these are new, a deep maroon with gold accents. He’s begun to stray from the purple he wore almost exclusively when you first met him. There might be something deeper behind that if you dared to think about it for a moment. You know there’s some meaning behind the gold and emerald earring he has in. Your hand instinctively goes to it’s other half, resting around your neck.

“Shall we?” He offers you his arm, eyes sweeping over your form. His smile tells you he’s pleased with the way you look in what he’s selected. 

You spend much of the walk taking in the city at dusk. Waterdeep is so different from Baldur’s Gate, and yet so very similar. Gale happily talks for the both of you. 

The building you stopped in front of was beautiful to say the least, all the street facing windows were stained glass in the shape of the city’s crest. The two large heavy doors were opened and a rather bored looking man in fine clothes stood just inside them. The braziers over the steps was brightly polished brass throwing the light far into the road as if beckoning people in. 

You were busy, once again, marvelling at the building you at first missed Gale’s eyebrows knitting together. He was speaking to the man in the door way, both in hushed tones. The man seemed simply uninterested in whatever Gale was telling him. 

“Now I’m positive I’ve reserved a table,” Gale’s voice had pitched upwards giving away his apparent distress. “I came down myself a tenday ago and booked it.”

You saw a light go on in the bored man’s eyes. “Ah,” he said nodding, “I see the error. The table you booked is for next year. All our bookings are.”

Gale’s mouth simply hands open, a light red brushing just above his beard on his cheeks. 

“Gale,” you say softly, hand going to his arm, “It’s fine we’ll find something else for tonight and come back… next year.”

You resolutely, do not laugh.

Gale, still flabbergasted into silence, looks between you and the other man. For a moment he looks like he wants to argue with one of you but wisely, wisely, nods to you instead. You lead this time as you turn away from the lovely building.

Gale seems over his shock sometime later and sighs heavily. “It’s unlikely we’ll find something worthy of our first date tonight.”

He sounds so put down your heart breaks for a moment. You don’t give into the feeling and instead hook your arm through his. “Whatever we find will be perfect,” you assure him.

He offers you a small, but doubtful smile. 

You two wander, arm in arm, in the cool evening air. Gale doesn’t really seem to be looking for a new option but you are. And it appears down a dirt-packed road, you grasp his arm and point. 

Gale sputters again, “The Yawning Portal?” 

He seems incredulous that you would even suggest it. 

“Well they’re not likely to turn us away,” you risk a tease, “and besides you’ve spoken if it dozens of times. Let’s go!”

Gale relents almost immediately when you turn to him with pleading eyes, and as soon as he does you nearly drag him down the road. You laugh, out loud this time, when Gale shuffles his coin purse further beneath his robes. 

The proprietor barely spares you an eye roll as you two enter in your finery, he’s too busy to care. You run directly up to the dry well first and peer down, you can’t see anything but darkness. Gale gently redirects you to a table in the corner with an exasperated smile. Once he deems you safely secured into a relatively unoccupied corner he disappears towards the bar. Immediately you love this tavern with its rowdy clientele and atmosphere similar to many you had frequented in Baldur’s Gate. 

Gale returns with two mugs full of ale. “Food will be out in a moment,” he assures you, near shouting to be heard over the noise. 

You beam at him and reluctantly, he grins widely back.

One thing for Waterdeep is even in it’s most questionable of places the food is mouthwatering, a testament to Waterdeep’s reputation for the finest food on the coast. The two of you huddle together to hear each other without yelling as you eat. Gale surreptitiously points out some of the notable patrons that are there tonight. He lets you watch in rapt interest as a few bold adventurers lower themselves into the dry well, making for the Undermountain. Only once they disappeared did he launch into an explanation of the dungeon they were entering. 

Seemingly too soon the food is gone and your mugs empty. You don’t want the evening out to end just yet, you realize you miss your own little adventure (perhaps not the constant near-death aspect) and this place helps easy some of the sadness. Besides, as Gale’s mugs drained he leaned closer to you, words breathed against your ear and neck as he filled you in on everything he knew. 

You offer to get another round, immediately missing the warmth of his body pressed to yours as you stand. 

As you return you spot him watching you. The look on his face is openly dreamy, even when he realizes your watching him. 

The widening of his eyes is the only warning you receive before you trip into a rather stout dwarf you had somehow missed in your path. Your stumble sends the ale spilling down your front and most unfortunately directly over the dwarf’s head. 

In an instant he’s got both hands wrapped around your arms, the mugs falling to the floor. “Now, what in the hell is wrong with you,” he snarls yanking you forward nearly bending you in half so you’re closer to his level. 

You haven’t even fully registered what’s happened when just as quickly as he’d grabbed you, the dwarf is gone. 

Not gone, you realize. Instead, he’s now pinned against a table by Gale. He’s got one hand on the dwarf’s collar holding him and in the other he has a small spark of flame dancing in his palm. His face is dark, both literally and figuratively. Hair loosed by his sudden movements, falling forward and shielding his eyes from you.

This…

is new.

“... made a mistake, no need to get rough,” Gale is speaking and you suddenly realize the room’s gone quiet enough that you can hear him perfectly well despite the distance between you. 

In opposition to what he’s saying, the flame grows against his palm. 

The smell of beer hits you first, your front completely soaked in it. Then the realization that the dwarf is similarly covered sinks in. Gale is more likely to accidentally set the man ablaze than he is to diffuse the situation. 

That is what he’s trying to do, you hope. 

“Gale,” you speak just above a whisper, hand coming to rest on his back gently. 

You don’t want to cause the flame to catch. 

“It’s alright,” You assure him, hand rubbing in a soothing pattern, “We’re alright. Right?” The last is aimed at the dwarf who is glancing nervously between the flame and you now.

“Yeah,” He nods almost imperceptibly, “no harm done.”

Whatever had come over him abruptly left Gale, in one movement he both released the dwarf and extinguished the flame. 

“Well then,” you nod with an over-enthusiastic smile, “a round for everyone!” The coin pouch you hold up is Gale’s. 

Everyone is instantly merry, the volume once again rising so you can no longer hear those around you. 

“That’s not how I wanted our first date to go,” Gale says much later in the evening as you two are in the bath. 

You’re seated between his legs, leaning back against his chest, hand lazily drawing patterns on his knee in the water. Your ruined clothes are discarded on the floor somewhere near. The scent of rosewater is diluted only slightly by the smell of a tavern 

The laughter that bursts out of you is unexpected but after a beat even Gale joins in, head dipping back against the edge as he does. 

“It was perfect,” you insist turning your head to look at him.

Both of his eyebrows go up. “For us,” you amend. You twist just far enough to press a kiss to his lips. 

He hums against your mouth. “You still smell like you bathed in ale,” he teases, nose wrinkling.

[mediumgayitalian]

If there’s one thing Will is, it’s committed to the bit.

Is there, perhaps, a touch of regret in his heart as he shivers, freezing, clad in nothing but his t-shirt and cargo shorts? Had he been told, before he left his cabin, by his long-suffering siblings that he was going to regret not wearing a sweater? Was the none-too-gentle reminder sixty-four percent of the reason he’d stubbornly refused the sweater he’d originally been planning on wearing in the first place?

Yes, yes, and no, surprisingly; take that, predictability allegations. He’s spontaneous as shit.

(Eight-three percent.)

(Whatever.)

He walks under a shadowy tree, briefly enveloping him in a deeper cold. He tries and fails to hold back a shudder.

“You’re cold,” says a critical voice to his left.

“I’ve never experienced even a mild case of hypothyroidism-borne boreal temperature intolerance even one time in my life, di Angelo, so check and mate.”

Unfortunately, the second half of his sentence is garbled by both his chattering teeth and his throat beginning to close. Curse you, Apollonian inability to lie. Will has people to gaslight, and a reputation to protect.

“You’re an idiot.”

Will wheezes. After three or four attempts, and the threat from his brain to his lungs that he will self-tracheotomize, really, he will, just try and fuck around cause you will sure as shit find out, bitch, he manages to clear his airways enough to employ his vocal chords (which, actually, are inaptly named. They are not chords, they are membranophones. Obviously).

“Nuh uh.”

“You really are an idiot. A frozen one.” Nico huffs. There is the sound of rustling, and for a moment Will is blindingly jealous of his friend’s night vision. He wants to snoop around in the dark to identify rustling sounds. How come he only glows when he’s embarrassed? He gets the stupidest Apollo powers. “Take my coat.”

Before Will can do much as protest, a heavy, undoubtedly warm jacket is shoved in his pockets.

“If you don’t wear it I’ll shadow travel to Slovakia,” Nico threatens. “And it’s winter for them right now, too, so I’ll pop out and immediately succumb to the elements.”

Will’s turn to be huffy, he slides the stupid jacket onto his arms. Immediately, he’s filled with a warmth so potent he feels as if he can almost fix his many mental problems. It’s glorious.

“Jacket smells like you, stink-face,” he says instead. He buries his nose in the collar and takes a deep inhale, closing his eyes as he savours the smell of woodsmoke, leather, and, amusingly, a little bit of oregano.

“Remind me to stab you tomorrow morning. It’s been too long.”

“It’s been three days,” Will argues, but dutifully makes a mental note.

Nico seems pleased.

They finally break through the woods’ borders, stepping into the torchlight of camp, late evening. Will spots three couples sucking face behind their cabin. He then spies thrice as many Hermes kids up to nefarious deeds, such as attaching timed fireworks to windows and doorways for a fun morning surprise. Will makes a mental note, under the stabbing reminder, to prepare burn salve tomorrow morning. And to hide Cecil in his office for his own protection, because he’s a good friend like that.

“Thank you for getting herbs with me,” Will says, turning to Nico. He smiles, trying to pour as much gratitude into his voice as he can. “I hate going alone.”

“Yeah,” says Nico, stiffly. He looks everywhere but Will’s face. When Will does not look away, he glances over, scowling at Will’s broadening grin. “Whatever, Solace. Don’t be so needy, next time.”

Tactfully, Will refrains from mentioning that he had not asked for Nico’s accompaniment at all, actually, and was halfway to the forest with a list of ingredients when Nico had shown up, red-faced, and snatched Will’s list clean out of his hands and muttered something about incompetence and monster baiting fools.

“I still appreciate it,” he says diplomatically, and then, because he is an asshole and also struggles with impulse control, he leans down and pecks Nico’s forehead. “Smooch of gratitude,” he explains when Nico freezes, facial expression resembling that of a squished pear.

“Ha nngh mfgh,” Nico says after a moment. Or perhaps he said hangry muffins, Will’s not sure, sometimes his hearing aids go wonky.

“Indeed,” he says anyway. He leans down to smooch Nico’s forehead again, because it was nice, and because he didn’t get stabbed the first time. “See you in the morning, Neeks. Love you bunches and bunches.”

“Hngh daga,” Nico responds, and when Will pouts he clears his throat and rectifies, “I love you…too?”

Will nods, satisfied. “Yes, exactly. Goodnight.”

He jogs off, waving. It isn’t until he gets back to his cabin and is immediately accosted by his siblings that he realises that he has stolen Nico’s jacket.

“Hm.” He glances down at it. It really is a wonderful jacket. And, plus, Nico didn’t give him a return date, or anything, so it’s probably fine if he keeps it a little longer.

He doesn’t want to get cold, after all.

[cosmerelists]

If Cosmere Characters Had Brands Sponsoring Them...

As requested by anon. :)

Let's imagine a world--a perhaps terrible world--in which Cosmere characters have brand sponsorships. If it gives you chills, please blame the anon who requested it. ;)

1. Adolin

Shallan: Wow, looking sharp! Shallan: Is that a new outfit? Adolin: Yup! Armani sent me a whole bunch of suits. Adolin: Apparently that's all I'm gonna wear from now on! Shallan: That sounds a a bit dystopic but also you look REALLY good. Adolin: Ha ha yeah let's think about it no further!

2. Steris & Wax

Steris: Wax, thank goodness you're here. Wax: Whoa! Did you start on taxes without me? Steris: I promised HR Block I'd use their services so that they can promote themselves as the brand that "even Steris Harms trusts." Steris: But obviously we need to check their work. Wax: Yes--obviously. Wax: And after that, let's pour ourselves some glasses of Jack Daniel Whiskey--Make it Count. Steris: ... Wax: ... Steris: Why did we agree to this again?

3. Amaram

[Amaram offers Wit his hand] Wit: No thanks, I wouldn't want to get any of it on me. Amaram: Any of what? Wit: Whatever you use to keep your hands clean, my lord. It must be powerful stuff, indeed. Amaram: Seventy percent of pigs have cleaner hands than forty percent of humans, you knw. Wit: I...what? Amaram: And that little fact is brought to you...by Meta AI.

4. Tress

Tress: (muttering to herself): Well...we do like to go places... Charlie: Hey do you need some help with...whatever you're dong? Tress: Yes please! I'm trying to stick these posters all over Two Cups. Charlie: What's a Toyota? Tress: Not totally sure...but they are offering a lot of money...do you think it's okay? Charlie: Well...we do like to go places... Tress: That's exactly what I said!

5. Nightblood

Nightblood: Pleeeeaase....? Szeth: I will not plaster stickers all over you, sword-nimi. Nightblood: But the Google asked me to! Nightblood: And their motto is "Don't Be Evil"! Nightblood: It's perfect! Szeth: Actually, I believe they changed their slogan a while back. Nightblood: You mean they're...evil after all? Nightblood: New plan! Let's kill them all! Szeth: I don't think brand sponorships are for you, sword-nimi.

6. Vin

Vin: When I need to go fast... When I need to leap from roof to roof... When I need to murder entire keeps... Vin: There's no shoe I trust, other than Nike. Vin: Nike: Just Do It. Vin: ... Vin: Well, what do you think? I'm supposed to pitch an angle for the commercial tomorrow! Elend: I feel like the brand probably doesn't want you to mention murder. Vin: What? Then why'd they ask me?

7. Yumi

Yumi: Ha ha! Yumi: Wow, it's so easy to stack when you're using legos! Yumi: Relaxing...fun...colorful... Yumi: This was DEFINITELY the right brand to partner with! Painter: Yumi, the neighbors are starting to complain. Yumi: What? Why?? Painter: You're fourteen-story lego tower is blocking out the sun! Children are crying! I just heard someone whisper that the nightmares must be back! Yumi: I thought it'd be inspiring!

8. Kelsier

Kelsier: I have a secret... Kelsier: Secret brand deodorant!!! Kelsier: ... Kelsier: ...Are you SURE we need the money to fund the ghostbloods? Kaise (barely keeping a straight face): Oh, absolutely.

9. Moash

Moash: I think it is time to cover up my Bridge 4 tattoo. Odium: That's a great step forward--I'm proud of you. Moash: Yup, gonna replace it with this Grey Goose Vodka tattoo instead. Odium: ... Moash: What? Drinking helps a man forget...stuff. Moash: It's thematic for my character! Odium: You have a ways to go.

10. Kaladin

Dalinar: What has happened to us? Where is our honor? Kaladin: Honor is dead...But I'll see what I can do. [Kaladin hesitates and looks back at Dalinar] Kaladin: That cool one-liner is brought to you...by Redbull. Kaladin: Redbull gives you wings. Dalinar: ... Kaladin: ... Dalinar: ... Kaladin: Anyway I'll go save your sons now.