#faster than a firework

[merryfortune]

Faster than a Firework

Written for @respectfulshipweek2023

Day 3: Fast Food | A Home Cooked Meal

Title: Faster than a Firework

Ship: Respectfulshipping | Ryoken/Spectre

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Rating: T

Word Count: 2,202

Tags: Fluff, Kissing

   The person handing out flyers, was handing them out in all directions from the centre of the crowd. Her eyes were going every which way as she tried to promote the event that she was assigned to and then her hands in the opposite way in a flurry so she could hand out the promotional material. Therefore, it was pure coincidence that Spectre, who was never noticed by anyone, not even obnoxious people with flyers, was handed one.

   He walked off, looking it over and thought to himself, Actually, this didn’t sound so bad.

   The flyer was for a shrine visiting event next week. There would be all manner of carnival games and food stalls, with a fireworks exhibit as the grand finale before a midnight close. It honestly sounded quite… mundane, mundane but fun, and Spectre figured that it would make a nice date night for himself and Ryoken.

   But when Spectre brought the flyer home and when he showed it to the others, it quickly grew from something private between himself and Ryoken. They agreed that they needed to do something a bit mundane and a bit fun for once. It did sound like a rather pleasant way to spend the upcoming summer solstice and so, the flyer was pinned to the fridge as a reminder of their big night out.

   Though, with something so unusually delightful on their calendar, it was hard to forget. As grouchy or grumpy as any of them could be given the duress of their illicit, and even some of their legal, activities, it really was a bright spot in the monotony of looking after the Neo Link VRAINS from the shadows. Especially given that previously, they had been one of their biggest threats and the other threats, in the form of the Ignis, had been eliminated through none other than the power of friendship.

   Thus, night of, Kyoko not only dolled herself up, but the others, too. That meant appropriately thematic yutaka for everyone. She chose something pink for herself, something brown for Aso, something green for Genome and then for Ryoken and Spectre, yutaka which had a much more youthful, fashionable facade than what she had chosen for her fellow Lieutenants. It was a bit much, all in all, but not unappreciated. They never wore anything traditional and it really did help with the overall mood of the night.

   They arrived at around eight o’clock for the start of the festival and split off from there. Thank goodness, Spectre thought, as he had been hoping to just have some one-on-one time with Ryoken, and outside of their work-related duties. It was just a shame that even though Kyoko, Aso, and Genome had dispersed, there was still another figure to take account of: Ryoken’s insatiable hunger for street food.

   Honestly, Spectre should have known that he would never get a second glance, not when they were in a verifiable wonderland of all sorts of fried goodies and other, assorted treats. Even he had to admit, the chocolate bananas at that one stall did look really good.

   “Are you sure you're full, Spectre?” Ryoken asked. “I know you always eat like a bird but still. Enjoy yourself for once.”

   Spectre laughed demurely, he lifted his popsicle embedded banana to Ryoken as a reply. All whilst his eyes caught on how Ryoken was struggling to hold his taiyaki and his octopus balls and the snow cone, too, and a hot dog, as well, from nowhere else but Cafe Nagi. 

   “I’m right, thank you for asking.” Spectre said but then, looking up, to the side, his eyes did widen - and Ryoken did notice.

   “Did you see something you wanted?” Ryoken asked.

   “Er, yes, actually. I want to play a game.” Spectre said.

   “Let me buy you some tickets, then.” Ryoken insisted. “If you're not going to eat, at least get some nice prizes for yourself.”

   In Spectre’s liege, Ryoken hobbled over to the carnival stall that Spectre had picked out for himself and then somehow managed to fish out his wallet, as well as some money, so he could pay for Spectre’s tickets. Quite frankly, watching Ryoken juggle all his food and his cash as well, both impressed and embarrassed Spectre.

   No matter, he got the tickets in the end. The ticketer passed them to Ryoken, Ryoken passed them to Spectre, and Spectre passed them to the ticketer again. Let the games begin.

   The game that Spectre had picked first was a game of shooting balloons with air rifles. Colourful balloons hiding cards labelled with numbers of points to score were pinned to a cork board backing, flanked either side by all the wonderful prizes that could be won. Plush toys modelled on popular characters in knock-off proportions, glow sticks and lollies, but what Spectre wanted were the masks, hidden behind these more exciting prizes. 

   They were a little old-fashioned looking and he didn’t have a need for any toys, so he would aim to collect enough points for those. Looking at the price tags, he needed a medium amount of points, around thirty or more. Cheaper than the biggest, most high quality of the various plush toys but dearer than the glowsticks, Spectre was very confident in his technique.

   Especially with his master watching. He couldn’t let down someone who called themselves Revolver down in a game of air rifle firing.

   Bang, bang, bang. Spectre lined himself up with the air rifle, making it a natural extension of himself and with his keen intuition, he just knew which of these balloons of all seven colours of the rainbow would be hiding the cards he could make the most bank on.

   The carnie was most impressed once Spectre had all three shots that had been paid for him. Impressed in a begrudging way, of course, as his hand showered over the prizes that Spectre was now owed.

   “So, what’ll it be?” he asked.

   “This one please.” Spectre said and he pointed out a white fox mask. Its red accents were sun faded and now appeared orange - or at least they did in the orange highlights of the festival’s atmospheric, lantern lightning.

   The carnie nodded and unhitched Spectre’s mask off its hook then handed it onto him. Spectre was appreciative and fixed it to the side of his head promptly. It was real wood but still cheaply made overall but he liked it.

   “Thank you.” Spectre said.

   And that was that. Well, for that game, anyway. 

   With the love of the hunt ignited, Spectre wanted more. He couldn’t help himself, it was that fierce competition that had kept him alive as a child. Not to mention, he finally had Ryoken’s attention, he was politely clapping Spectre on through every rigged game that he busted. So, Spectre was rather stoked to keep going and Ryoken very happily trailed after him as Spectre sampled a few more sideshow stalls. He knocked over glass jugs with baseballs, he attempted to scoop up fish with paper paddles and it all came to rather lovely success with the prizes that he was amassing.

   Aside from his first won mask, Spectre now had a yellowy-coloured goldfish named Kiro in a bag and a fuzzy teddy bear he intended to give to Ryoken later, too. Honestly, he was starting to look like Ryoken with all his food with what he was now lugging around.

   Fortunately, for the money in the kitty especially, the fireworks were starting soon. They regrouped with the Lieutenants who were quite impressed with Spectre’s haul, though they did wonder who was going to set up a fish tank for Kiro to live in - assuming he lived that long at all. But before anyone could get too chatty, there was an announcement through a very crackly microphone.

   The announcement could hardly be heard through the technical difficulties, let alone the murmur of the crowd’s excitement. There was a flush of movement closer to the shrine, where the fireworks were going to be set off in an adjacent acre of land where no one would get hurt.

   Ryoken and Spectre were close, shoulders overlapping, and looked up, straining their eyes into the dark sky. This was as clear as a night as it got in Den City, alas. Smoky, cloudy, only a few glimmering stars but it didn’t matter. Not when fireworks were soon going up, up, up, one by one and exploding into a scatter of stardust.

   The embers of the fireworks lit up the night sky in shades of red, yellow, and orange. All bright colours of the summer, then followed by oceanic blues and soft purples, like the flowering wisteria all over the shrine’s grounds. The crowd was in awe and Spectre stole a glance at Ryoken.

   He, especially, was in awe. Ryoken’s eyes were lit up, his lips slightly apart and Spectre felt his heart leap to his throat. The boom and crash of the fireworks were deafening but he could still hear his own thoughts inside his head: they were in louder than the ordinance that the fireworks were providing. Even more daring than those beautiful explosives.

   He wanted to kiss Ryoken. Sorely, dearly, desperately. 

   Ryoken was utterly enamoured with the sky, he didn’t even notice as Spectre tried to lean in, tried to whisper to him. Instead, he started to chew some taffy that he had bought from goodness knows where and Spectre leaned out. He kept the sigh of disappointment to himself, even if it clearly wasn’t going to be heard and instead watched the fireworks.

   The theatrics were nothing less than gorgeous, well placed and timed like a dance recital. And then it was over. As fleeting as those sparks the fireworks produced, over and over, in busy cascades and then solo blooms and then nothing. An announcement that the main attraction of the festival had come and gone, that amusements and food stalls were likely going to close in an hour or so.

   “Thank you for coming.” the Speaker said, the clearest the microphone had been all night.

   “Let’s go pay our respects at the shrine, yeah?” Ryoken turned to Spectre to suggest.

   “Alright.” Spectre said and since he didn’t sound ecstatic, that confused Ryoken.

   Still, they waded against the crowd - and told the Lieutenants they would be in touch soon, promise. Together, Ryoken and Spectre made their way to the front of the shrine. They passed by underneath the torii, the scarlet dulled in the dim of the night and then made it to the foyer.

   Ryoken popped a couple coins as tribute into the large chest whilst Spectre said a prayer. Ryoken snickered and Spectre cast a suspicious eye on him.

   “What’s so funny?” Spectre asked, frowning.

   “You look like a youkai in your yukata and the mask, too.” Ryoken replied, explaining his little in-joke. “Truly spectral tonight.”

   “Oh, I see.” Spectre didn’t quite know how to reply to that.

   “What did you pray for?” Ryoken asked. 

   “Your health, of course.” Spectre replied.

   “I’ll pray for yours as well then.” Ryoken said and he clapped his hands once in front of the shrine’s bounty. 

   Spectre was a little miffed by the display of it but he couldn’t say he wasn’t flattered. When Ryoken finished praying, it seemed he still had more to ask.

   “Why do you have a bee in your bonnet all of a sudden?” Ryoken asked.

   “...I wanted to kiss you during the fireworks, I thought that would be nice but, well, you were too busy watching them to notice.” Spectre sheepishly admitted, then grumbled, “Not to mention, you’ve been doing nothing but stuff your mouth with food.”

   Ryoken laughed, “Sorry, I thought you would want to wait until we were in private. Here, come with me, let���s go somewhere a bit quieter. Besides, I think it would be disrespectful to kiss in front of the shrine.”

   Ryoken offered his hand to Spectre and Spectre took it, grateful. A scant blush to his cheeks, however, but he allowed himself to be tugged into the pine woods surrounding the shrine. Not its no go zone, where the fireworks had been launched for, as that was the opposite direction but it still felt like a prohibited zone belonging to the shrine. Though, admittedly, that thrilled Spectre at least a little bit.

   Still holding onto Kiro the Fish and the unnamed teddy bear tucked under his arm, Spectre did feel like something of a hypocrite since he had been internally nagging Ryoken for holding onto so much but with his back against a tree, Ryoken’s leg slotted in between his own, he didn’t care much. Ryoken kissed him gently, sweetly - literally, he still tasted of the taffy that he had just been eating, as well as of fairy floss, too - and Spectre kissed him back.

   In the quiet of the forest, with absolutely no one watching, Spectre did feel a touch foolish for thinking he would want a more public display underneath the fireworks rather than foliage. As they kissed, a warm breeze blew but it was pleasant as it was the height of summer, fireflies even floated around idly, too. And so, they sealed the end of the night with this kiss. 

[romijuli]

yoo 7 14 and 24 for the ask game?

HI ASTRA THESE ARE SOME SOLID QUESTIONS. like overall not just the ones you picked lmao

7. Which ride do you think has the best queue?

HONESTLY A LOT OF THEM ARE REALLY COOL. I’ve always been partial to space mountain though; the star charts and “windows” are really cool. Special shoutout to The Many Adventures of Winnie The Pooh though, the hunny panels are really neat.

14. Name an attraction from a park you haven't been to, that would be enough to get you to visit said park.

Man I’ve been to Disneyland AND Disney world that knocks a lot of stuff off.

I like ride history! And Pooh’s Hunny Hunt being the first (major?) ride to use a local positioning system is really cool to me!

24. Tell us about the best food you've eaten in the parks.

Man my last trip was during the food and wine festival you’d think I’d remember this. I remember Be Our Guest was good!

I was actually thinking earlier about those candied pecans (?) they sell at snack carts in the Magic Kingdom…I always forget how much I love those.

[anoddrock]

A sketch!

I’m planning on posting a polished digital version during the 20 hours arc, but for the time being, until I have the energy to work on the story, here’s this! I did the rough sketch near the start of may I think?

Anyways. Guess whose glasses broke?

[masterpost]

[cosmicallyavg]

everything i learn about rhe UK while doing research for this AU just shocks me

[onlyswan]

summary: in which there is never enough time to be in love but jungkook is a 24/7 lover. (part one)

idol!jk x afab!reader / fluffy fluff with a dash of angst / word count: 3.6k

warnings/content: jungkook takes a day off and surprises oc <3 ; he's veryyy touchy; he gives oc's boobie a lil bite lol this guy ; s*xual innuendos; one (1) spank; oc comforts him :(; bam is home too!!; family is complete

→ in which masterlist!

note: smth short and sweet so i can recover from dreamboat loool missed my babies sm <3 as always reblog and/or feedback is very much appreciated! <3

p.s. i'm also redoing my iw taglist so pls comment/send an ask if you want to be (re)/added!

—

“baby? i’m home.”

you’re confident to say that you’d never mistake jungkook’s voice for anyone else’s. and on that note, you must be dreaming of him— the voice of an angel, the calloused palms cupping your cheeks… the audible and damp kisses delicately being peppered all over your face. everything feels so real. too real. just like how it used to be.

it hasn’t been long since you last saw him. you communicate and meet whenever it’s possible, no matter how short the time he is allowed to dedicate. still, you miss him all the time, everyday. you keep telling yourself it’s not that bad. time is passing by faster than you feared. but this whole set-up is foreign and daunting. and you miss him. you miss him all the time. that must be why you’re dreaming. 

when you open your eyes in the morning, you’ve come to expect nothing more than the view of the plain white ceiling, or the sunlight peeking from behind the curtains. 

so why are you gawking at jungkook’s face?

he smiles from ear-to-ear, bunny teeth and crinkles around his eyes— you can’t be mistaken. it’s him. it feels as though your heart has been shocked and revived. 

“jungkook!” you gasp.

you startle your own self when you abruptly throw your arms around him. he tries to hold you up, but you’re far too ecstatic for your own good, inexplicable joy thrumming in your veins and fireworks bursting in your ribcage. you squeal and jump up and down on the bed like a little kid on christmas morning; jungkook hugs you back tighter than he has ever done before, protecting you from the fall and crash.

“oh my god, you’re here! you’re here!”

“yes, i’m here-” he laughs in amusement. “ow shit, settle down- wow, it’s so early. why are you so energetic-”

“i missed you!” you briefly pause for oxygen. “so much! i’m never letting go of you again!” 

“wow!” he makes a dramatic wheezing sound. “that much, baby? you missed me that much?” 

“that much!” 

you draw back with a pout, just enough so you can look at each other, nodding your head probably too fast— you’re almost dizzy. adrenaline tide calming into waves, you’re catching your breath.

are you certain that this is not your imagination playing tricks on you?

“you’re here…” you slowly say. it’s only registering to your whiplashed brain. there is barely any feeling in your arms as you touch his face, an attempt at separating wishful thinking and reality. “why are you here?”

“why else?” he grins toothily. “because you said you were missing me.” 

your attempt at forming words is rudely interrupted. he steals a kiss, this thief… hard and hungry, keeping you in place by his palm cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair. 

he pulls away with a satisfied hum, tongue darting out to swipe over his lips. “and because i was missing you more.” 

for a moment, you gaze at each other in silence. you’re still neck deep in disbelief and euphoria. that kiss took your breath away. under the circumstances, you shall yield and admit that he misses you more. he requests for developed photos of you when you come visit. that’s something you never imagined you’d have to do. 

he tries to tame your messy hair, smoothing it down until he’s holding your cheeks lovingly. “i mean, what else was i supposed to do? i miss waking up to this pretty face everyday.” 

you pucker your lips in response, demanding for a kiss. this earns a chuckle from him before he grants your wish. an unintelligible noise of joy escapes your mouth as you jump and hug him again. it is shortly followed by a yelp when he whisks you off the bed without warning, spinning you ‘round and ‘round… ‘round… and ‘round… and…

your laughter soon transforms into horror. 

“jungkook!” you scream with your eyes squeezed shut and your legs curled around his waist. “okay! stop it! i’m getting dizzy!” 

the crazy bastard keeps on giggling as if he doesn’t hear a thing. you always expect these reunions to be so emotional, but when jungkook is here, it feels as though he never left.  

“jungkook!” 

you hook your leg around his, causing the two of you to collapse on the soft mattress. you land on top of him with a whimper. you breathe out a sigh, relieved that the nausea-inducing ride is over.

“that was fun.” he speaks next to your ear; the sensation makes you squirm. 

“it was,” you push yourself up to search for more air, a little sweaty after yours and jungkook’s hyperness took control of your bodies. “for the first five seconds.” 

you’re now properly straddling him, ass on his crotch. it’s accidental, but nothing new. nay, comfortable. this level of proximity won’t feel like intimacy with somebody else. goddamn, you missed your boyfriend so much. 

a big, sleepy yawn zaps your attention from him. you cover your face with both hands, wandering into the darkness for a little while. you find that your mind is devoid of any thought. perhaps you’re more overwhelmed than you let on. 

“missed this view too…” he reveals amidst the haze, a distinct change in the tone of his voice. 

there they are— the butterflies in his stomach, slaves to you and only you. he breathes through his parted lips as he caresses your thighs with tenderness bleeding from his fingertips, your skin so smooth and soft in contrast to his calloused palms. his lips curve into a drunken smile when you graze his greedy hands, as though granting them permission, before they slip inside the magenta velvet of your night dress. the material bunches over his forearms as he reaches for your hips. it leaves almost nothing to the imagination (in his case: memory). his attention is stolen by your cotton panties. light taupe. decorated by white polka dots. 

“this one’s new.” he comments.

you peer down to figure out what he meant. right, he’s never seen this before. “surprise! you like it?”

“yes, it’s cute.” he toys with the little ribbon at the center of the waistband. “you rarely get this color.”

“thanks. i think my taste is changing.”

“really?”

“mhmm…” 

his hands venture up to your waist, kneading at the flesh and reacquainting with the feel of you. he’s been pissed off at the thought of forgetting what it feels like to touch you, knowing your body like the back of his hand. he hasn’t been away from you for extended periods of time since their last tour. that was years ago. 

for maximum comfort, he sits up and pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor. “let’s move here.” he carries you with him, back comfortable leaning against the headboard, while you remain sitting pretty on his lap. “bam was sleeping on my side of the bed when i arrived.”

“huh…?” you blink. 

“you didn’t know?”

you shake your head innocently, a tad distracted by your eyes roaming his naked torso. he looks absolutely ravishing as ever. did something already change from the last time you saw him? 

“i tucked him into his bed last night.”

you visited bam at the training facility after work yesterday, but he kept trying to follow you as you were leaving. your fragile heart caved and you brought him home for the weekend. you texted jungkook about it but he didn’t respond; as much as that made you sad, you figured he was just tired or he used his phone time to talk to his family. 

you spent the whole night playing with bam and watching his favorite dog entertainment channel on youtube. the house wasn’t dead silent for once. you fell asleep together on the couch until you woke up at 2am and tucked him and yourself into your respective beds. it was easy to fall back to sleep after, but it felt weird that you didn’t need an audiobook or hours of calming sounds of nature. 

you’re not whining. there have been a lot of sunny and happy days. you have wonderful people in your life who act as your support system in their own unique ways, but jungkook and bam… they’re your family. you made your peace with no longer having one, but now that you’ve built your own, having to be apart from them makes your heart ache. 

“did he sneak in to sleep next to you? he does that now?” he makes a surprised face. “what’s this? i’m so jealous of him!”

a pinch in your heart. 

you try your best to conceal a frown, but your poor choice of words paints your disappointment. “you’re not-” you avoid his eyes. “staying the night?”

“yah, you don’t have to look so sad. i can stay, baby.”

“you can?” your face lights up. 

“for you, i’ll make it happen.” he cheeses, affectionately tapping the tip of your nose like it’s a button to make you smile. “i’m only working hard in there to earn more days off, you know that?”

that makes you frown.

“babe, don’t do that…” you whine, shaking his shoulders. “you don’t need to work so hard. only do what is required of you. i just want you to be healthy.”

“no… just let me.” he replies with finality. “i need… i need a reason. you’re the reason why i’m still hanging in there, and i don’t want to miss another anniversary.” 

he bats his eyelashes. 

“being your boyfriend is my favorite job in the whole world.”

and how are you supposed to argue with one of his most heart-fluttering, most wholesome lines yet? 

you sigh in defeat. “then you can rest when you’re with me.” 

“i love you.”

“i love you, too.” 

you lean in to kiss him, but are interrupted when he yawns. your forehead ends up resting against his as you giggle uncontrollably at the unexpected and hilarious view of his open mouth. 

“sleepy?”

he bows his head in embarrassment, body vibrating with laughter. “i couldn’t sleep because i was so excited. i wanted to talk to you last night but i was so sure i’d spoil the surprise.” 

“of course you couldn’t.” you giggle, removing yourself from his lap while tugging at the collar of his shirt. “come here. let’s sleep some more.”

you lie down on the bed facing each other. jungkook moans in contentment as you engulf him in your embrace, nuzzling his face against your chest. he can smell your body wash, sweet and clean. that— that isn’t new. every muscle in his body decompresses. he needed this, needed you. desperately. tremendously. you pull the thick and warm blanket over yourselves and he melts. while he wishes he was taller, he knows he is still of considerable height. he’s been bulking up, getting stronger than before too. but he doesn’t give a fuck about those at the moment. he’s not even aware. his body fits perfectly with yours— that’s all he knows. oh… he’s melting. but it doesn’t feel like he’s being reduced. he has everything to gain. this is heaven on earth.

he opens his eyes into an awful squint, faced by your cleavage spilling out from the neckline of your night dress. there’s this urge he can’t ignore. it’s not spelt out in his mind, he rather feels like his body is having a fit. next thing he knows, he’s carefully sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of the swell of your boob. he stays still for a few seconds, and then pulls away once he deems himself satisfied. he wipes your skin with his thumb incase he left some saliva, innocent eyes peeking up at you huffing out a quiet laugh. 

“you sure that’s all you needed?”

“i’ll devour you later.” he smirks, blinking sluggishly. “i’m tired but just you wait. i’ll go all night!”

“not if i beat you to it…” you tease, having plans of your own. you want to make him feel good. you’ve been going insane thinking about it. “missed you.”

“alright then, let’s do it at the same time.” he says suggestively. 

“you know i have a hard time focusing when we do that.” you huff.

“eh, so? not me.” he chuckles. “i think you do a really great job, though?”

“…still! go easy on me a little bit so i can do better.”

“it’s not a competition, baby.” he squeezes your waist affectionately. “plus, i don’t think i’d be able to control myself once i get a taste.”

“jungkook!” you whine, growing flustered. 

he laughs out loud, giving your ass a quick spank that resounds through the walls of the bedroom. 

it becomes silent again after that.

the tip of your nails graze his scalp with repeated movements, more so for your amusement, but he is practically purring. you can’t imagine your arm being a comfortable pillow either, but he is doing great at making it appear so.

“i realized something.”

“what is it?”

“i really can’t live without you.” he confesses earnestly, then looks up at you with raised eyebrows. “don’t say anything. i know you’ll say something like ‘yes, you can!’”

“i was not. i liked hearing you say it.” you stifle a giggle. “but i’m not going anywhere. you know that.”

“i don’t doubt that.” he sighs with a heavy chest. “sometimes i just get a bit worried that you’d get tired of waiting.” 

this isn’t the first time in your relationship that he’s voicing out this fear, but the difference between then and now is stark. with the disconnection, there was a part of you that expected it to resurface. 

“babe,” you gently tilt up his face, locking your sincere and love-filled eyes with his. “we’re okay. i’ve loved you since i was 18. this? this is nothing. you’re a part of me, so you’re always with me. and i know you keep me with you too.”

you wear a brave face. you hope that he believes your words as much as you do, because no matter how many boulders the universe throws down your path, all you ever think about is how you and jungkook will surmount them. together. he is your partner after all.

“we’ll get through it like we always do, baby boy.”

jungkook nods and smiles, doe eyes glittering. you love making that happen. “sorry, i think i scared myself when i read stories on the internet.” 

“our story is different!”

the two of you burst into a fit of giggles.

“no, seriously-” he cackles, a little breathless.

“we’re one of a kind!” you keep the joke running. you want to keep making him laugh, even if it’s only for a few seconds longer. 

“we’ve gone through so much bullshit. not everyone would fight as hard as we did!” jungkook passionately agrees with the same intensity. “you’re right, we always make it work. we’ll get through it like we always do.”

“trust me,” you charmingly implore him. “when was i ever wrong?”

“never!” he immediately shakes his head. “…atleast not about the things that matter.”

“okay,” you shrug. “i’ll take it.”

“goodnight kiss, please.” he cutely pleads.

wild guess: he went home to be babied. not that you’re complaining. this is miles better than having to wrestle him over who gets to be the big spoon. you love giving love. when your heart stops beating, it would be great to celebrate how much you were loved, but you also wish to be remembered as a person who gave love until their last breath. 

“goodnight, my love.” you coo, well aware that the sun has risen. 

you plant a tender kiss on his forehead. the complaint bubbling in his throat is swallowed when you lean in closer to reach his lips. with his wish fulfilled, he flutters his eyes closed and snuggles as close to you as possible, real and proper rest finally within his grasp. he basks in your warmth and the tranquilizing silence— his breathing steady and his heart at its calmest. beautiful things enter his mind. you are the sun on the first spring day; the clouds that go with him no matter the distance; the waves that kiss the shore and never fail to come back. he heals in places he didn’t know he was hurting. 

“hold on, where is bam then?”

“his house. i gave him some treats then he slept again…” his voice comes out muffled. he sniffles jokingly. “the reaction was kind of underwhelming. i think he didn’t miss me as much.” 

“of course he’d choose that over a human.”

“i bribed him too early.” he laments.

“wait…” he feels you come to a still. “i think he’s coming.”

he opens his eyes and copies you in focusing on the familiar sound of bam’s paws clicking against the floor. the mattress quakes and he lifts his head to find the dog climbing over your bodies. 

he’s seriously a large and tall dog. 

“bam, what are you doing here?!” 

bam tilts his head and stares back at jungkook, tail wagging as his dad laughs and pets him on the head down to his back. 

“he’s so adorable.” you squeal quietly, joining in and scratching under his chin. “i love you, bam.” 

bam’s eyes switch to you. he slowly lowers his head, giving your hand a tentative lick as if to show appreciation but he’s also worried that it would prompt you to stop.

“he’s gotten real heavy, huh?”

“he’s got some big muscles like you.”

“of course! he got it from me.”

jungkook’s proud smile drops a little. it morphs into pure fondness once bam starts sniffing at him. he yelps and dramatically falls back, wiping his wet cheek with the back of his hand, but it’s game over once bam pants with excitement. bam chases his face to attack him with his love language. 

you watch the scene from the sidelines, laughing so hard that your sides are beginning to hurt. you wish you were recording. you wish that you never forget this. 

“okay, okay! you’re happy to see me! i see that now!” jungkook laughs, squeezing bam in a tight hug for a moment. 

the dog still refuses to relent, however. they almost look like they’re fighting to the death but the truth is they’re just smothering each other with affection. unbeknownst to them, you make a pained face when one of them accidentally hits your arm multiple times. nevermind, they were definitely both culprits. 

“____! save me!” your boyfriend cries out.

he bulldozes through bam and shoves himself into the tiny space he previously, and peacefully, occupied minutes before. he’s squeezing you so tight, nearly crushing you as he laughs with tears in his eyes. they affectionately call it his elmo laugh, the fans, which you adore just as much. 

you see it before you hear it. bam makes that face when he’s about to bark. your hush comes out at the same exact second as his barking. 

“this is so chaotic!” you try to project your voice louder than everybody else’s. 

jungkook’s laughs quieter but harder, if that makes any sense. 

you have an arm around jungkook that holds him taut and protected, while the other is busy with getting bam to settle down. you slide your palm across his fur in repeated motions, focusing on the spots that cause his eyes to flutter in relaxation.

“shhh, bam. it’s still too early. let daddy rest first. we can tire him out again later, okay?”

he settles on top of your bodies again. he has stopped moving around, but then he makes that face again, and you really love your healthy sense of hearing. 

“behave, bam-” you playfully squeeze his cheeks together before scratching under his chin. “my cutie bam. you can do that for me, right? you’re a good boy! i’m sure you understand.”

he abandons the urge to bark, suddenly fixing his position so you can also scratch at his chest. you almost snort at how funny he looked obeying you on accident because he is begging to be petted.

“that’s right. good job, bam.” you coo, sending him a pleased smile. “you’re so smart. you listen so well.” 

you whisper to jungkook. “it’s so cute when it looks like he really understands what i’m saying.”

“it’s the way you talk to him.” he answers quietly, placing tiny kisses along your collarbone. “you’re so sweet.” he almost forgot how good you are with bam. he just fell in love with you all over again. 

“but it’d be cooler if he does understand me.” you hum, moving your hand on bam’s head. he finally decides to flop down then. he rests his head over your waist, eyes seemingly inching closer to sleepiness. you sigh in relief. “go to sleep too, baby.”

jungkook breaks the silence a moment later.

“…did you mean me or bam?”

“you!” you chuckle. 

“oh-” he laughs at his own foolishness. his arm that is supposed to be hooked around your waist rests over bam’s body instead. he ruffles the dog’s fur softly. “let’s all go to sleep.”

you let out a yawn in response to that. you sniffle, murmuring tiredly. “i love you, baby… your surprise made me so happy. i’ll make it up to you too.”

“i love you more…”

jungkook lifts his head and finds that you have closed your eyes. your chest rises and falls in a calm rhythm. bam is closely following you into dreamland. 

heavens, what he wouldn’t give so he could stay here forever and never leave again. 

his eyes are heavy with exhaustion, hot with sleepy tears, but he fights his own body to stay awake. with all his might, he gazes in awe at the beauty of a life with you. he wants to always remember what is waiting for him at home.

[prettyoatmeal]

Soft Sex with Simon <3

Warning!! nsfw, mdni, fem reader, dirty talk, one Y/N mention, NOT PROOF READ! A/N: Brain rot horny posting WOOF WOOF WOOF BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK Masterlist here!

***************

Thinking about soft sex with Simon!!!! <333 Where you're both desperate for each other. Where you need each other. 

Despite the stoicism he shows 99% of the time to those around him, he has a heart that swells with love whenever you're with him. That fills him with a yearning for your and only you.

For once, his lips are gentle against yours. Call it placebo, but they always feel especially soft when he's wrapped around your finger like this.

His movements become slow as if you have all the time in the world, an eternity to make each other feel good. He's slow to lay you down onto the bed, slow to spread your legs and place himself between them, slow to undress you both before his lips move downwards to meet with your clit.

But he's quick to make sure there’s a pillow under your head, he's quick to place one under your hips, he's quick to surround your sides with blankets if you feel too cold, and quick to start fingering you when he hears you getting restless.

It gets to a point where Simon's so infatuated with you, he immediately loses himself the moment he feels your warm, wet, gummy walls squeezing and sucking him in.

"Oh fuck,," He breathes, pelvis colliding with yours.

You're nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, trapping you under him with strong arms on either side of you, and there's absolutely no space between you once he pulls your legs up to wrap around his hips. There couldn't be, no. He needs you as close to him as possible.

Your breaths mingle as he's working your insides, your nose scrunching and eyebrows furrowing with each deep thrust.

In... out. In... out.

You can feel each throb and pulse, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix each time he buries himself inside you. And Simon's eating up your every reaction. Every sigh, every gasp, every sweet moan of his name is boosting his ego. Because he's the one making you feel like this. He’s the one taking care of you.

"Shit- oh God, y'feel so fuckin' good. So tight. So damn tight," He always gets talkative like this, it’s as if he just can’t keep his mouth shut. "You make me feel so good, sweetheart. My girl.. my sweet girl."

It's so intimate, so romantic, it makes you so wet there's no need for any lube throughout. It makes fireworks go off in your stomach.

"Simon-" you hiccup as you look up at him through bleary eyes.

"Yeah, angel? What do you need?"

“More.. please, I need more.”

And he’s right at your service. His baby needs more? Of course they do. So he’s quick to shush you and your pleading. His hands quickly move down and grab your hips. He positions them higher, the new angle making him thrust right up against that bundle of nerves that he knows you love so much. A little faster than before, he’s soon in a stable rhythm and has your eyes rolling back, gasping for air and making all those perfect sounds.

“Yeah, does that feel good? You like when I’m deep in you like this, fucking you just how you need?” He asks, his voice starting to shake slightly. But you can’t respond. Not when your own vocal chords won’t let you, preoccupied by your cute whines and mewls, doing your best to not be too loud for courtesy of the neighbours. All noises resembling speech are nothing but mindless babbles.

“Shhh, I know. I know, baby,” His voice is so quiet, so sweet it makes you almost sick to your stomach, “just sit there and take it like the good girl you are. That’s all you have to do.”

It feels good. It feels so fucking good. 

The way he makes your pussy flutter, makes your stomach flip from hearing his humiliatingly high pitched moans, makes your clit ache with need, begging for some friction right about now because all you can think about is cumming around his thick cock. You need to cum so bad, and Simon’s able to pick up on it. He notices the way you squeeze around him relentlessly, the way you go a little quiet as you try to focus on your orgasm. In his arms, you’re nothing but a whining mess, falling apart from how good he was making you feel.

“Open your eyes f’me, love. Let me see how pretty you look,” You take a moment to process his words before your glossy eyes barely flutter open again, “that’s a good girl. Keep those beautiful eyes on me.”

You feel his hand gripping your hip snake between your legs and down to your wet heat. It was only then when you took notice of the lewd, sloppy sounds coming from the both of you, your combined wetness and sweat creating a loud slap every time his hips met with yours. 

The pad of his thumb gathers some of that slick before pressing against your swollen nub, in turn making you jolt under him. He methodically works your clit in rhythm with his thrusts and with how worked up you already are, you feel your nether regions burning. You glance down at his hand, working you so effortlessly. The way his cock disappears inside you, taking him so well. Suddenly you feel so close. So so so so so close. You’re right over that edge, you just need a little more.

“Y’gonna cum for me? Make a mess all over my cock?”

You nod, the tears welling in your eyes ready to fall. God, yes. And as you nodded, a grin formed across Simon’s face. His smile was so pretty it made a wave of shyness wash over you.

“F-Fuck, can feel how close you are. Squeezing me like a fucking vice,” He leaned down to pepper small kisses along your soft jawline as his fingers on your quickened.

“Simon, I-I’m g’nna cum,” You manage to choke out, feeling his hips stutter as your walls pulse around him.

“Let go, sweet thing. Make a mess for me, I’ve got you.”

You feel your hips buck helplessly under him, a cry of pleasure getting ripped straight from your throat as you cum on his cock, your cunt pulsing and gushing around him. Hot tears roll down your flushed cheeks as you bury your face into his neck, his freckled skin catching them. Your hearing goes a little fuzzy, but you can make out his long groans as he keeps pounding into you. You writhe in overstimulation below him before his hips stutter again, burying himself inside you with a harsh thrust as his potent seed shot inside you. 

You sniffle into his neck in the aftermath. You hear him mutter a few soothing words as his lips make contact with your skin again, but his words fall on deaf ears as you try and catch your breath.

“Come on, (Y/N). Let me know you’re with me.” He whispers to you, and you nod in response.

“Thank you, lovie. Good girl, shh. You’re alright. Did so well for me.” Those were the last words you could hear before falling asleep in his arms.

[teddybeartoji]

shoko and her biting tendencies... nips at your fingers with a cocky little grin when you're trying to brush her hair out of her face, her eyes growing darker at your expression. nips at the inside of your wrist ever so gently after raising your hand to her mouth, her maroon lips staining the back of it with something akin to adoration. with something deeper perhaps. your body is on fire.

nips at your neck as you're cooking, her cold hands finding safe haven under your shirt. she sways her hips side to side, her voice raspy when she chuckles at your reaction. this is what it's all about. the reaction. she's always hungry for more, her teeth speaking for her as they graze over the side of your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. she hums, lowly. she lets you wait for anther bite.

you're breathing faster. it's hard to focus on the food. your eyes fall shut.

you crane your neck to give her more room.

the reaction.

she lets you wait for a bite that never comes.

instead, you're graced with a simple "hi, babe".

you feel her grinning into your neck. you feel warm all over.

she nips at your shoulder as you're brushing your teeth. ready for bed, ready to rest – she's still going. when you send her a look, she brushes you off with mischievious eyes, gesturing for you to finish your task while she leans against the bathroom counter beside you. her fingers ghost over the shell of your ear as she tucks away a stray hair and you have half the mind to bite back at her, but you can't. there's something to her that let's her get away with everything. you can't be mad, you can't be upset. ever.

bewitched.

damned even.

she nips at your legs as she's climbing onto the bed with you, your friendship slipping from between your fingers with every bite she takes. her eyes meet yours in the dim lighting and it's hard not to crumble, to let your thoughts go wild at the sight of her sinking her teeth into the sensitive, plush flesh of your upper thighs. it's stings, it hurts – the way she does it. she doesn't hold back, not a lot at least.

her canines leave dents in your skin but the warm touch of her tongue over the markings makes it easy to forget about the ache.

her fingertips dance somewhere on you but you don't even know where. you can't think, not now.

feel.

deeper. harder.

she wants a reaction.

more. more.

higher.

closer.

a reaction.

parted lips. a gasp.

music to her ears. she hums.

she's way too close to your hip, only mere inches from your core but no matter how much you try to wriggle and squirm – she doesn't stop there. more, more, more.

her lips are dark as ever, the color on them smudged and ruined by you and only you. there's a trail starting from your calf, all the way up to your waist now. red lipstick marks of fate.

she'd laugh at you for even thinking about something so corny.

she's under your shirt now. her fingers.

pushing up the material of your shirt, she keeps her eyes on you. cherishes the way you shiver below her, the way you blink at her.

shoko's thighs settle on either side of your marked up one and the contact set off fireworks somewhere deep inside you. your own fingers itch to touch, too, but the fear of her pulling away is too much; you'll let her do anything, everything, and if the cost of the pleasure of having her is for you to stay in this twisted web of hers, then so be it.

she nips at your lower stomach. her lips brush against your skin, staining more of you with the dark shade of red, with the bloody kind of love.

you hiss and her grins etches wider.

like a dog to a bone, her next bite is even harder than the last. she kneads the side of your waist with her skilled hand and you think about how butchers tenderizes the meat. how they work through the piece with their tools, preparing it for a meal. you swallow the lump in your throat.

teeth in your skin. again and again.

her knee pushes up against you.

her dark eyes glint under the moonlight as she hovers above you now. hands by the sides of your head, she stays there just staring at you. eyeing you. observing.

you keep giving them to her.

little reactions.

a hitched breath. a desperate head tilt. pleading eyes.

sharp teeth stuck in the lower lip. gnawing and gnawing, waiting for more.

who's the hungry one now?

is it still her?

[pupkashi]

gojo can’t wait to marry you, but he will for the sake of one folder in his phone

a/n: i want to marry gojo, sue me!

wordcount: 703

masterlist

satoru would take your engagement ring everywhere he goes with you. he’d have it stuffed in his pants pockets or jacket and you never once suspect a thing.

he’d have so many pictures of you turned around and him holding the ring right behind you, clueless as to what the man you loved was holding a mere foot away from you.

there’s pictures of the two of you at home, making dinner, cuddling in bed, cleaning, teaching the students, at the beach, on a walk, on dates, literally anywhere anytime, and all of them have the beautiful ring in the velvet box, wide open and facing the camera as you stare in the opposite direction, oblivious.

he’d always try his luck, but he was cocky enough to somehow always get away with it, only once almost getting caught when you turned around faster than he thought you would, but you were too amazed with the fireworks to notice him throwing the small box into the bushes next to him (he then had to act like he lost his phone to go and pick the box up again).

there’s a chilly breeze that picks up over the two of you as you scoot closer together under the reds and pinks of the sunset, the grass around the two of you rustling with the wind, clouds floating peacefully.

you’re getting up and grabbing a blanket from the picnic basket, back facing satoru. “thank god we brought these blankets! I didn’t expect it to get so chilly so quickly,” you sighed, fingers melting into the plush fabric of the blanket.

satoru is quick the pull the box out of his sweater pocket, snapping the picture and ready to put it away before you turned around.

time seemed to freeze in the seconds that he took to look at you, radiating and glowing in the suns golden rays, the world painting you in all its colors. maybe it was the sounds of the birds singing or the pair of butterflies that flew past you. or maybe it was the overwhelming sense of love and home that he felt in the moment.

satoru didn’t move, he stayed on one knee, the box wide open and facing you as you turned around.

“i love you, sweetheart,” he smiles, the look on your face knocks the wind out of him as his cheeks begin to hurt a bit from how wide he’s smiling, “i knew after we’d been dating for six months that you were the person i want to spend my life with, that you were all I’d ever wanted and all I’d ever need.”

there’s tears welling in your eyes as he continues to talk, heartfelt words and vulnerability as his hands shake slightly. your mouth is still covered by your hands, mouth slightly agape from shock as your heart beats out of your chest.

maybe it was the swans swimming in the lake besides you, maybe it was the two butterflies from before landing on his shoulder before fluttering off again. or maybe it was the way the sun painted him golden, his blue eyes staring at you, snowy bangs falling perfectly on his forehead, your body warm with love as you nod your head when he finally asks the question.

“will you marry me?” his voice is a lot less confident than usual, a relieved laugh leaving him when you engulf him in a hug, your face burying itself in his neck as before pulling away and crashing your lips onto his.

“of course I’ll marry you angel boy,” you laugh, sniffling a bit as he wipes the tears from your face, taking your hand in his and slipping the ring on.

you can’t help but admire the way it looked on your finger, it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. soon enough you’re staring back into satoru’s blue eyes, giggling as you cup his cheeks and bring his lips to yours, laughing when he grabs you by the waist and spins your around.

he shows you the folder of pictures later that night, and you can’t even be mad at him. not when you realize he had bought the ring the day after your six months.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

[marlinspirkhall]

Humans sending out signal after signal, message after message, space probes, emails, photos, light shows, intergalactic fireworks, all in the hope that they're not alone: Please reply, please reply, please reply, ple–

Aliens, screeching across the universe in a brand new FTL ship: CAN YOU SHUT UP? WE GOT YOUR FIRST ONE THOUSAND MESSAGES, DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND HOW BIG SPACE IS?

Humans: oh my goooooosh, hi

Humans: Did you invent faster than light travel just for us? 🥺

Aliens: NO!!!

SETI: Radio message received.

Radio message: We are receiving you. We have decided to answer you in your own language, and–

SETI: New radio message received.

Aliens: Oh no.

Radio message: We have received your previous messages pertaining to life on Earth, and have included our own data packet about life on Big Tree in return. We named our planet before we learned it was only 30% arboreal. Thank you for the golden disc, it was extremely tasty. Haha. Just kidding.

SETI: Data packet downloaded. Decrypting...

SETI: New radio message received.

Radio message: As previously stated, we are receiving your messages and your gifts. We took a photo of our planet with our own photo-capture device, as we were unhappy with the one you provided.

SETI: Data packet update: Warning: Several terrabytes of information may be corrupted.

SETI: New radio message received.

Radio message: This is the Generation Ship Tree Hollow. My designation is Captain Root-Skygazer. Our people have instructed us to fly ahead and communicate with you when we reached the thirty-year marker, as these messages are likely to reach you faster. They request that you stop broadcasting messages with the subject line: 'Oh, how woeful it is to be alone in an uncaring universe (and other similar poems)' because it frightens the children and makes our scientists deeply existential. I, personally, am partial to episodes of M star A star S star H. It has been of great interest to learn historical facts about the longest Earth conflict of your common era. I miss my home, and I am saddened that I will never see yours. This ship has a self-sustaining ecosystem of plants native to our planet, and a crew manifest of one hundred and fifty-seven. The replacement generation currently numbers one hundred and seventeen.

Radio message: Hey, Ball Of Dirt, it's Big Tree again. Lose our number, would you? There must be some other semi-evolved space aemoba you can bother. (Several words untranslateable)

Aliens: Yeah, so your answering machine is going to be like that for a while–

Humans: What was that part about a Generation Ship?

Aliens: We were hoping you could tell us that, actually. We lost contact with them after the 200 year marker.

Radio message: This is the generation ship Tree Hollow. My designation is Captain Cradleroot. Captain Root-Skygazer was my grandfather. Inspired by the speeches of your contemporary leader, Ronald Reagan, I decided to restructure the existing system here which allowed crewmembers to eat as they required. Under this new system, we award tokens to whom we feel has done the most valuable work, and they can redistribute those to the hungry if they wish. But they do not. However, I believe that [...]

Humans:

Aliens:

Humans:

Aliens: This is all your fault, by the way.

[judeswhore]

twenty seconds or twenty years

summary: hidden away with the love of your life is the perfect way to enter the new year

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k

notes: you can find my masterlist here. ik it’s not nye or even close but this scenario was too cute to pass up on

jude finally found you standing in the kitchen with his parents, the three of you locked in what seemed to be an amusing conversation. he'd watched you tip your head back and laugh when he first caught sight of you, his heart thumping heavily in his chest at how pretty you looked. part of him thought it was cruel how beautiful you were, his brain stopping short each time he looked at you, mouth running dry at the way your dress clung to your skin and left very little to his already overactive imagination. you looked gorgeous and keeping his wandering hands away was killing him.

his mum's eyes met his over the top of your head as he stepped up behind you, her mouth slanting into a smile when she watched his arms curl immediately around your waist. he pressed his chest firmly to your back and found immediate comfort in your your heat and softness, goosebumps rising over his skin when you brushed your palm up his forearm in a silent hello.

"what're you lot gossiping about?" his question was slightly muffled because he'd chosen that exact moment to dip his head and kiss your cheek, lips planting a second kiss to your temple before he set his chin down on the top of your head. jude knew you well enough to know your face had twisted into a half shy, half embarrassed smile, always a little unsure about his public affections in front of his family for fear of being disrespectful. he didn't care. they were more than aware of how enamoured he was with you and equally aware that physical touch was his favourite way of showing love.

"nothing that concerns you." his mum stated, sending him a look that told him he was being nosy and he rolled his eyes in response, stuck his tongue out childishly just for good measure.

"well then i'm stealing my girlfriend because if it doesn't concern me, it doesn't concern her. we're a package deal, y'know?" he squeezed his arms around you a little tighter at that, felt stupidly happy when he heard the little puff of laughter you let out. his parents shared a glance, a look of mutual understanding that there was only one reason jude was choosing to lure you away right now.

"you're a menace, i know that. you'll miss the fireworks if you disappear now." but jude was hardly listening and didn't really care about the fireworks. it was almost midnight, almost a new year and he wanted to cross that line with you away from the prying eyes of his closest family and friends. he started to lead you away from his mum and dad, lifting his hand in a half wave while you apologised and told them you'd be back.

"they'll have forgotten what you were talking about in five minutes, there's no point going back." he told you, fingers threading through yours as he led you through the hallway and towards the stairs. his hand was warm in yours, so much bigger it had you grinning stupidly down at it, fingers squeezing his lovingly.

"you planning on keeping me hidden up here for the rest of the night?" you asked, a teasing lilt to your voice that matched the spark in jude's eyes when he turned his head. like you, he'd had a couple glasses of wine and the soft sheen in his eyes and glow to his skin made him look extra pretty, had a simmer of neediness hooking in your tummy.

"maybe." it was a short trip to his bedroom, one that was made longer by one of jude's friends stopping him at the top of the stairs to make some comment about being safe. the words had him rolling his eyes, expression unamused as he flipped his middle finger and tugged you a little faster towards the comfort of his room. he was quick in locking the door behind you, taking both your hands in his after. "i'm planning to keep you hidden up here for at least the next half hour."

"what about the fireworks?" you asked, although you'd pass on those any day if it meant getting to keep jude to yourself for a while. you loved his family and friends but you'd rather not kiss him stupid in front of them. jude had a tendency to let his hands wander whenever he kissed you and you didn't think his parents would appreciate watching him grope you.

hands in yours, jude lured you towards his bed, grinned a little mischievously before he was bending at the knees and picking you up, throwing you down onto the mattress with enough force that you bounced a little. he grinned at your soft giggles, leant over to pull the heels off your feet and drop them to the floor while he worked his own shoes off. with the removal of each heel he pressed a feather light kiss to the inside of your ankle, so loving and tender it made your chest ache. pushed up on your elbows you watched through lowered lashes as he crawled onto the bed and made his way towards you, pressed a single soft kiss to your lips before flopping down onto the pillow next to you. he propped himself up on one arm and nodded towards the floor to ceiling windows that covered one side of his bedroom.

"we can watch them from here. d'you really wanna go outside in the cold?" he smoothed his hand over your hip when you shifted to lay next to him, on your side so you were practically nose to nose. you could smell the mint gum on his breath. the same hand, always so warm, slid down along your thigh until he could hook it behind your knee, draping your leg over his hip in order to bring you even closer together. "when you could stay here and watch them and i can keep you nice and warm."

"suppose it's not a bad idea." you pretended to think on it but jude knew there was no way you'd say no to staying in his bed and cuddling. he knew you well enough to know that was something you'd never pass up on. a grin slid onto your lips. "d'you promise to make me hot chocolate after?"

"with double the amount of marshmallows." he told you, voice serious because hot chocolate was no joke between the two of you. the palm of his hand skimmed slowly up and down your thigh, started at the curve of your ass and trailed down to your knee before brushing back up. the movement was lazy but comforting, had you relaxing even further into the sheets. the slit in the side of your dress meant his hand was met only by bare skin and you knew jude was itching to let it shift a little further over your ass.

"guess you've got yourself a deal then, bellingham." you muttered, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth. music and laughter floated up from downstairs but it was muffled background noise as you settled all of your attention on the boy in front of you. your hand raised and settled on the back of his head, nails scratching lightly against his scalp as his eyes fluttered in appreciation. his soft hum tickled your chin.

moonlight washed over one side of his face, created shadows over parts of his features and made his eyes seem even darker than usual. there was a little groove between his eyebrows, eyebrows you'd plucked yourself only last night while he'd rested his head in your lap, and you used the pad of your thumb to smooth it out. the tip of your pointer finger started to trace over his eyebrows, dropping a little lower to brush down the bridge of his nose and jude watched you intently, never once took his eyes off your face.

something warm and heavy trickled through your bloodstream, love and affection so consuming it was burning you from the inside out. there was an incessant flutter in your tummy from how closely jude was watching you and despite the fact that you were the one mapping out his features, it felt like he was cataloguing every line and mark on your own face. you traced his lips, always so plump and soft, so ready to show you love at any given moment and your heart jumped when he pressed a feather light kiss to the pad of your finger.

his hand slipped around your back and he pulled you impossibly closer, your bodies pressed so tight there wasn’t even an inch of space left. the silence between you was comforting, both of you happy to simply lay and admire the other and you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you got with him. no one had ever loved or taken care of you the way he has and you appreciated every second you got to be at the centre of his heart.

jude tipped his head down a little until he could press his forehead against yours, the tip of his nose bumping yours and you watched his eyes close for a few moments. the palm of your hand had slipped beneath his shirt, flat against his warm skin and he shivered when you scratched your nails lovingly over his side, up and down the way he’d been rubbing your thigh. he pressed a kiss to your mouth, soft and fleeting.

“you’re the best thing that’s happened to me this year, y’know,” he muttered and despite the fact you were alone, his voice was a low whisper as though he only wanted you to hear the words. the flutters in your tummy seemed to multiply, your heart thumping loud and unsteady and you wondered if jude could feel it. his eyes opened again and his gaze was so intense you almost wanted to shy away but he cocked that crooked smile and you melted into him. “you’ve got no idea how lucky i am.”

he was echoing the same words that had been dancing around your head all night and it made it all the more special. a smile tipped your own lips, your nose nuzzling softly against his cheek so you could avoid his gaze a little. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. i don’t- i’ve never had anyone make me feel the way you do. y’make me feel wanted, like i’m the only girl in the room at all times.”

“you are the only girl in the room. hey,” jude used his nose to nudge your face back up, his eyes sparkling when you did, raw love and adoration staring back at you. “you always deserve to feel wanted. i always want you, all of you. even when you make me rewatch the same stupid shows over and over.” you huffed a laugh at that and jude grinned even brighter, lifted his hand to cup your cheek and brushed his thumb feather soft beneath your eye. “i’m really happy you came tonight, i know everyone’s been a nightmare constantly wanting you attention but i’m happy you’re here.”

laughter and shouts grew a little louder on the other side of the door and you realised everyone was starting to count down from ten. in a few moments the new year would be here and you’d be going into it with jude, a new year for new memories between you. it was sometimes hard to wrap your head around the fact your relationship with him started a little under a year ago because sometimes it felt like you’d known him forever. other times, like when he kissed you randomly and told you he loved you, you got so shy and nervous it felt so fresh, like you’d known him only seconds.

“m’happy too.” you tipped your head to kiss the palm of his hand. “you always make me happy.” it was sappy and wet but so true you needed him to know. it didn’t matter that you hadn’t really had a moment alone all evening because his family were more than eager to steal your attention but the fleeting smiles across the room and the soft press of his lips to your head when he passed more than made up for it. being tangled with him right now made it even better.

jude’s smile only got bigger and he rubbed his nose gently against yours, tucked his hand around the back of your neck to pull you a little closer. your mouth hovered over his, lips just barely touching but he was stealing a kiss the second he heard the pop of the first firework and the shout of happy new year. a sound caught between a sigh and moan trickled from your throat and he swallowed it eagerly with a swipe of his lips, his mouth opening a little more to slot perfectly against yours.

the kiss was slow, a soft, languid brush of lips and tongue as jude stroked his thumb over a spot just behind your ear and hummed when you ran your palm over his chest. you wanted to be closer to him, to press yourself into his skin and stay there forever while he held you and kissed you like his life depended on it. your tongue swept over jude’s with a little more meaning, a deep yearning opening up in your chest. you wanted him to keep kissing you until you forgot everything but him.

“happy new year, baby.” jude mumbled the words against your mouth, between presses of his lips to yours, his eyes opening when you whispered the words back. he watched you for a couple of seconds, the way your tongue darted out to swipe along your bottom lip and how despite such a short, sweet kiss, your lips were a little plumper. you knew he could feel the rapid flutter of your pulse beneath his thumb and knew his quickly rising smile was because he was aware of the effect he had on you. “i love you.”

your smile was shy, nose scrunching a little but still you pressed forward and planted a kiss on his mouth. “i love you.” it was a whisper, a promise and a fact, three words that buried themselves into the deepest parts of both your hearts. they prompted another slow make out and once again you wished you could get lost in him. these kisses were a bit more playful, jude tugging teasingly at your bottom lip just to get you to whine.

he shifted a little so he could press you down onto your back and followed close behind to settle himself on top of you. the backs of his fingers brushed softly across your cheek, smile adoring as he used his whole weight to push you into the mattress and before you could question his actions he was dipping and attacking your face with wet kisses. the giggles you let out were his favourite sound, had him smothering you even more just to keep hearing it, his own laugh starting to get louder. you squirmed and twisted beneath him, tried to push his face away but he simply took your hands and pinned them above your head, trapped both your wrists in one hand until you pouted up at him.

“y’making me miss the fireworks.”

“gimme another kiss and i’ll let you watch them.” the colours of the fireworks kept lighting up the room, lit jude up in a serious of different colours and made you think only of how unfairly pretty he was. he threw a glance at the window before turning back to you. “gimme a kiss.”

“c’mere then.” your words had him lowering his head eagerly, his mouth finding yours once more. for the next few moments you let his kiss consume you again, let him pin you to the bed and pour his love into every touch and caress of his lips over yours. he was warm and heavy, the perfect comfort and you half hated that at some point you were going to have to go back to the party.

“dad went daft this year.” jude huffed in amusement when he finally managed to peel himself away from you. he was shuffling on the bed, sitting up on his knees and manhandling you on to your side to face the windows. he settled himself down behind you, one arm pushing beneath your head and the other draping over your waist, pulling you firmly back against his chest. from this position you could snuggle into him and watch the fireworks, something he knew you’d be more than happy about. “think he was trying to impress you.”

“he could’ve set off one firework and i’d be impressed.”

“hm, so easily pleased.” silence fell over you after that, both of you fixated on the pretty colours and patterns lighting up the sky outside. holding on to jude’s arm, you brushed your thumb back and forth in soothing motions over his skin, made little happy noises whenever one of the fireworks were extra pretty. your reaction had jude grinning, nuzzling his nose against your shoulder before he pressed a long kiss into your warm skin.

he tightened his arm around your body, moved just slightly to rest his head against yours, not wanting to leave even a slither of space between you. the steady thump of his heart was so relaxing you could feel your body sinking a little further into him, sleepiness washing over you from his comfort and heat alone. jude seemed to be in the same boat as he slotted his leg between both of yours, tangling you up even more. “m’sure no one will miss us if we stayed up here. i think it’s only fair i get at least an hour alone with my girl.”

[slater-baby]

But the way I can totally see (and have been hopelessly imagining) an unhinged spitfire American woman absolutely ruining Simon’s life (in the best way possible).

Thank uuuuu Slater <333 I can’t wait to see what you have up your sleeves!

BRO FR!!!!! Sometimes, the British-American divide can get overused in fanfics, but!!! In some specific instances, a healthy dose of barbecue, Jif Peanut Butter, and good ol’ American flags can bring a man to his knees 😤

For real? If there was a spitfire American girl to drag him around the states, taking him to all the stupid sight-seeing spots he never wanted to go to, you can bet your ass he’d let her lead him around by his hand with a smile on his face.

Because he never thought he’d be stuck on a boat watching fireworks in some backwater Mississippi mud hole, but here he is now. And when your girl pushes you into a lawn chair, shoves a beer in your hand, and tells you (threatens you) to sit there and enjoy the 4th with the rest of them, you’d damn well do it. Trust him. He knows.

Because last Fourth of July ended up with his pretty girl half drunk in a still-soaking bathing suit, giving him the cold shoulder after he made one (1) poorly timed 1776 joke that turned into a party-wide debate.

That, and it ended with the two of them missing the firework show.

(NSFW below cut)

Because he’d followed her around the party until she had no choice but to speak to him. Until the heat in her body overcame the still-simmering annoyance she felt.

Until he’d had her pressed up against the wall in the darkened entryway of their friend’s lake house, bikini bottoms around her knees, his cock pushing in and out of her slick cunt, while he whispers hushed apologies in her ear with every sharp thrust.

And even when she’s moaning his name, ass spanked raw and red, she still has the audacity to pretend to be mad at him.

“C’mon, love,” he whispers, “I said I was sorry, yeah? Can’t still be mad at me, can ‘ya?”

Her nails dig into his wrist in warning, but she still pushes her ass back onto his cock anyway. He has to resist scoffing at her own hypocrisy.

“I can,” she seethes, “I’m still mad at you, Simon.”

“Mm,” he reaches down to swipe a finger over her clit, “What’ll make it better, love? Tell me. Need me to fuck you harder? Fuck you faster? Need me to get on my knees for you? Show you how sorry I really am? Tell me, love. Tell me and I promise I’ll make it better.”

Some strangled noise leaves her mouth, and she bites her lip. Her eyes are still angry when she turns to him, but something so demure and desperate collects inside of her. And when she opens to mouth to speak in that pretty accent he’d only ever heard in the movies until now, he’ll be damned if he says no.

“Need you to…” she trails off, a little to desperate to be coherent, “Need you on your knees, Simon. Please.”

“There we go. That’s it, love,” he grabs a handful of her ass, “Sayin’ please ‘n everything. Wasn’t too hard, now was it?”

“Don’t push your luck,” she quips.

“Wouldn’t dare, love. I said I was sorry, didn’t I?”

She purses her lip gloss colored lips, pressing a hand to his shoulder to push him to his knees. And when he gets down right in front of her, that stupid American flag bikini front and center on her beautiful body (it was supposed to be a joke), he’s harder than he can ever remember being in his fucking life.

“Then prove it,” she tells him, yanking on his hair.

And by god he does.

Because he might be the one wearing the pants, but his little spitfire has always been the one in charge. Needless to say, he lost his peace of mind way back in England, and he’ll probably never get it back.

[luminique]

Imagine Lighter proposing to his s/o. He wants to be with his beloved for all eternity but he’s so afraid of ruining the proposal that he had to ask the girls, Big Daddy and Billy for help with the proposal.

Cue the most anxiety ridden and beautiful moment of Lighter’s life as he tries to propose to you (probably at Cheesetopia) while his team/family are helping him behind the scenes with everyone having earpieces. Everything was going smoothly until he can’t find the box. He’s shaking and losing his composure as he tries to find the box containing the engagement ring, he finds it but drops the box a few times with Billy having to distract his s/o from noticing that he dropped the box, and then he finally gets down on his knees to propose because Caesar and Lucy were screaming in his ear to just get down on his knees and tell his s/o that he wants to marry them.

Cue you looking at Lighter and seeing him propose to you. You’re seeing that ring, a beautiful ring with yours and his birthstones shaped into an infinity symbol, and the flashbacks of the first day you met him to the day you knew you were always going to be his are running through your mind. You knew the answer right away. You and Lighter were forever ride and die. Literally.

Now, cue the tears of joy down his face when you screamed “Yes!” and him twirling you around in pure joy as the Sons of Calydon are celebrating their Champion getting married. All that’s left is figuring out how to have a wedding.

THIS IS YUMMY ??!! I AM EATING IT UP !!

i fear i have a lot of difficulty writing prompts like these but this is so good on its own, i feel like i have nothing to add and will just share this to all the lighter enjoyers !!

hes so loveable boyfailure. i think that initially, he was just planning for a simple and quiet proposal but the SoC girls protested. a simple proposal FOR YOU ?? no. it HAS to be perfect. even the days leading up to it, he’s an absolute wreck that he could barely get a wink of sleep the nights before. what if you reject him? what if you’re not ready? what if it all goes wrong?

while he’s worrying about everything, you’re literally going about your day. i think the whole of blazewood would be in on the plan and you’re the only one who doesn’t know.

lighter had told you to meet up with him at cheesetopia, there was a new dish on the menu he wanted to try (he made up this excuse). so you get there and the exterior is decorated beautifully but no lighter in sight. he’s busy fumbling with the ring box while billy is just making some small talk. once billy gets the cue to leave, you’re still walking around a little, looking for lighter.

a tap on your shoulder, the sound of pebbles crunching under his shoes. you turn around and see lighter on one knee, he’s taking off his shades and pulling out the small box from his pocket. you could see the clear blush on his face and a little sweat glistening on his forehead from the anxiety of it all.

you knew the words that would come out of his mouth before he could even say it. the response came out faster than he anticipated, making a sigh of relief escape his lips. it takes him a moment to actually register your reply but once it did, it took no time for him to get up and give you the tightest hug before twirling you around in his arms.

everyone else were practically celebrating along with lighter. billy was already crying even before you said yes, burnice’s flamethrowers were acting up like fireworks, caesar and lucy were exhausted but looked proud, and piper was clapping to show her sleepy excitement. it was a momentous occasion for the SoC, and especially for you and lighter.

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

I was wondering if you could do a little drabble where the reader breaks her leg in an accident and Arthur goes to help her by picking her up and taking her home. Please I want Arthur to hold the reader like a princess! 🥺💞

Here you go sweet anon! 🍑

Yes this was supposed to be a drabble but I got a little carried away as always and this ended up being a bit longer than expected. I hope you won't mind!! 🙏

˖✧To pick up a Peach

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Warnings/Tags: Description of a broken leg and physical pain, otherwise this is pure fluff. Arthur being the sweetest gentleman he is in high honor. ✦ Words: 2,4k ✦ a/n: I don't know why but I got carried away with this one and I ended up really loving it. I changed it just a little bit and made Arthur carry you to the doc, cause you know, he wouldn't let you go home without minimum care. He's like that. I made the reader some sort of farmer's daughter AU? Anyway, hope you'll still like it, Anon! Credits. Arthur's pic is mine. Other pics are from Pinterest. Little doodles made by me.

You were screwed.

That’s the thought that was stuck in your mind. Your horse, which the stableman had sworn to you was a gentle and peaceful creature, turned out to be a wild furious animal who was extremely nervous and appeared to have only one idea in mind: go back to where it belonged, the plains of the Heartlands.

You were simply on a ride to Valentine. You would often go there with your sisters on Mondays and Sundays to sell what your family had harvested in your native town, Emerald Ranch, setting up your little stand next to the butcher’s. Usually, these trips were pleasant and you had grown to like them, relieved to see something else than the gloomy and weird atmosphere that had settled in your village.

But your treacherous companion had decided, after an encounter with a snake somewhere near the Twin Stack Pass, that enough was enough. After rearing up as if his life depended on it, he took off at full speed, ejecting you with a crash to the ground, making the wicker basket containing all your precious products fly up in the air like a colorful firework of fruits and vegetables.

An ominous, muffled creak as your body lands.

Stunned, breathless, it took you a few seconds to regain your composure, long gone and galloping off with your horse.

Of course, that had to happen the only time you had decided to ride alone for once.

Your left leg, broken. The fruit of your labors and harvests, your perfect peaches, flawlessly ripe tomatoes and carrots, promising seeds, and beautiful flowers, scattered and smashed on the floor. Your dignity, gone. 

Lying back on the dirt, hair spread like a star around your head, surrounded by an indescribable substance made of crushed fruits and flower petals reduced to a mush, you looked like the religious figure of Bad Luck.

On top of that, being a lonely young woman, unarmed, and hurt in the open clearly wasn’t an ideal situation. Any man with bad intentions could easily do the worst thing to you in your state.

You tried to get back in a sitting position. Every movement was igniting the pain in your broken bone, deep inside your calf, spreading it through your entire body like a burning trail of powder. You let out a short pained grunt, followed by a curse. Slowly tugging your skirt up your knee, you took a worried look at your leg. 

It looked bad.

Painted with deep colored bruises kind of bad. 

The sight of it along with the incessant stabbing pain coming from it made your heart beat faster, and you did your best not to pass out from the nausea that was flying over your head. The panic of not feeling your toes anymore didn't helped at calming your heart rate.

There was no way you could walk back to any town in that state, or contact the rest of your family already waiting for you.

Yes, you were screwed. 

Tilting your head backward, you looked at the sky, in an attempt to prevent your threatening tears from falling, or to throw a desperate call to the Heavens, you didn’t really know it yourself. 

A muffled sound suddenly made its way to your ears. It looked like your involuntary prayer had been answered sooner than you would have expected.

It was the sound of hooves.

You snapped your head in the noise’s direction and noticed an approaching form on the road, raising a cloud of dust in its wake, coming towards you. Your only hope. You were praying, for real this time, that this upcoming stranger was a gentleman and not a bad man.

Praying, praying, praying.

Praying again as the man was at voice’s reach, and as you screamed and begged for help.

“M-Mister!” Your voice sounded even more pitiful than what you had planned, and a bit hoarse from the pain. Your ego protested, but screw it, he probably was your last chance. “Mister, please! I broke my leg! I can’t… I can’t…”

Apparently, shouting didn't seem to help the nausea. The more you were getting air out of your lungs by screaming the more your head was feeling dizzy.

Luckily for you, the lonely rider had heard your desperate breathless words and was heading towards you, stopping his horse in a skillful maneuver before dismounting, his two boots hitting the ground.

“What happen Ma’am, d’ya need some help?” He asked you, voice powerful and worried frown on his face.

“My horse got spooked by a damn snake and he ran away… Making me fall and I… I think my leg broke…” Your tone was pained and way weaker than his as you did your best to explain the situation, a single tear now streaming down your cheek.

The pain, the panic, the frustration from having a month’s worth of work destroyed in just mere seconds… You couldn’t hold it anymore.

Slowly approaching you, the man lowered himself in a crouching position to take a better look at you, and talk to you at the same eye level. His deep blue eyes studied your broken leg, surely not missing the disturbing, alarming color the bruises were taking, your skin an odd mix of purple and green now. It didn’t seem to disgust him though, his face stoic as he scanned your wound.

“Alright Miss jus’... Don’t move too much.” He advised you in a softer tone. You could see he was truly concerned about your state. “What’s with all this mess? You trynna make some soup or what?” He asked in a deep sarcastic tone, as if amused by his own words.

You drily chuckle, which revived the pain you were still feeling in your bone, making you cut your laugh and groan a bit, your own features contracting in a pained expression.

“It is… It was my crop… I was going to sell it in Valentine…” You explained once again, feeling shame and exasperation hitting you. You were feeling so angry from this waste, so angry at yourself to be the only one responsible for it, you couldn’t prevent more tears from falling, trying hard not to let yourself go into sobs.

“Ah, shit… I’m sorry for ya.” He exhaled, contemplating the scattered and mashed jelly-like matter composed of what was once your yield, pieces of peaches and broken carrots lying there, like on a battlefield. His gaze came back to yours, full of compassion and probably pity for your state, before continuing. “Don’t worry Miss. I’mma take you up to the Doc, in Valentine. ‘Was goin’ there anyway.”

You nodded in order to thank him, feeling so relieved life had put him on your way. 

“Okay, I’m gonna help ya get on ma horse. It’s gonna hurt a little but we have to.” He warned you, getting completely down on his knees by your side.

You didn’t dare to move from one inch. He slowly wrapped an arm under your shoulders, his hand grabbing your side. Even more carefully, his other one slipped under your legs, and he gently lifted you up bridal-style, as if you weighed nothing, a fallen leaf in a gentle breeze.

 As if he was carrying injured people all day every day.

Your broken member didn’t like it as much as you did though, and you hissed in pain from feeling your own weight pull on the wound as your leg was hanging in the air. He noticed, and spoke again while getting up, just as easily as if he wasn’t carrying an entire person in his arms right now.

“Gonna be okay Miss, hold on a lil’ longer.”

As if taking his words in a literal way, you encircled his waist with your arms and rested your head on his chest. His work shirt was used and dirty, rough against the skin of your cheek, but right now it just felt heavenly to you compared to the dusty rock of the floor. You sighed, feeling calmer and way better now.

If you had brought up your gaze, you could have seen how a slight blush was spreading on the tan skin of his cheeks the moment he felt you getting comfortable in his arms.

You heard him call for his horse with a short whistle and a sharp noise from his teeth. His mount obeyed right away, getting closer to both of you in a happy trot. You wish your horse could have been as gentle as this one. He looked like a really strong and powerful, but very sweet on the inside animal. A bit like its owner, now that you were thinking about it.

As carefully as if you were made of porcelain, the man in question let go of your legs, and you took support on your valid one. He then picked you up again, by your waist, and lifted you on the saddle, helping you to get settled and as comfortable as possible. His large hands were very soft on you, cautious, caring. You could feel how his touch was light and measured, calculated to make you feel the least pain possible.

“You take the saddle, else your leg would get too bumped during the ride.” He explained before hopping behind you, grabbing the reins by bringing his arms from both sides of you.

He was basically enveloping you, his large frame keeping you warm and steady. Against your shoulders, you could feel his biceps, and thanked the Lord once again this man had good intentions with you because there was no way you could have resisted this mountain of muscles.

The silence fell as your gentle savior spurred his horse into a slow pace, keeping him calm and cold-blooded. You mentally thank him for it, every movement from your leg, even the tiniest one, would ignite the flames of your pain again.

The ride to Valentine was a quiet, peaceful one, just like it was supposed to be from the start. Your eyes kept closing and opening as if you were on the verge of falling asleep, but still needed to be alert until you'd be safe and sound in town. 

You only had exchanged a few words with the man, your names, and where you lived. 

Arthur Morgan didn't look like the kind of man to have the longest conversations but his presence was reassuring nevertheless. His heavy breathing, his body around yours, the calmness of the plains… It was all making your pain less vivid and way more bearable.

Once in Valentine, Arthur rode straight to the Doctor, and got off first, tying his horse's reins around the fence.

“Here we are, Miss. Let's get ya checked up for good, shall we?” He said while standing right next to the saddle, opening his arms to pick you up again, a gentle smile on his face, as if telling you all your worries were behind you now.

If you thought this man was going to let you walk alone to the doc’s office and head off to his own business, you were damn wrong.

Even through your terrible state, a grin curled up your lips and mirrored his own expression. You let your tired and injured body sink into his solid one, and he carried you in his arms once again.

His scent ran through your nose as you breathed, traveling all the way down your veins to your lungs and everywhere in your body, enfolding you and your soul. It was a strong smell, not a delicate one like those gentlemen would carry with their cologne, but you liked it regardless. A mix of leather, sweat, tobacco, and this early dew scent, the one you can smell just before dawn, earthy and herbal, as if he had been sleeping under the stars for months. 

The smell of the outdoors. 

Arthur opened the door with one foot, and entered the Dr Calloway’s office with you in his arms, careful not to let your leg get knocked while walking through the door. The doctor took care of you right away, ordering Arthur to put you on the chair in the little room where patients were treated.

His muscled arms dropped you, his hands gentle and attentive, as slowly as if you were a newborn filly he could hurt or scare away by using too much force. There was such kindness, such gentleness and care in his gesture that it left you feeling all bubbly on the inside.

You kept on looking at him during all the time it took for Dr Calloway to treat you, waiting for him to just go, but he didn’t. He stayed, casually leaning his back against the wall to leave some space for the doctor, his eyes voyaging from your injury to your face, then away from you, as if he was feeling guilty about staring at you like this. It made you giggle.

You paid the doctor, thanked him goodbye, and before you could process it, here you were, freshly gifted with two crutches and a wooden splint around your injury in front of his door. Perfect. For a farmer family, a hurt worker was a curse.

“You gonna be okay now, Miss? D’ya need another ride home?”

Arthur’s deep voice dragged you out of your thoughts. This man was so special. He looked used, strong, and intimidating, but had been nothing but kind and delicate with you. Right now, his deep azure gaze was staring right at yours, making you feel even weaker in the knees than you already were.

“Oh, don’t worry, my family is already here. We have a wagon and all. Besides, you have done plenty for me, Mister Morgan.”

“Ah, don’t ya worry. 'Did what any man would have done seein’ a pretty lil’ lady like ya hurt on the ground.” He answered with a subtle grin.

Before you could realize it, his hand was reaching out for a strand of your hair, and his fingers brushed against it.

You froze, feeling a dark red settling on your cheeks, your eyes looking back at his in surprise and disbelief, searching for an explanation, even if your heart didn't want it. It wanted more of it, no questions asked.

“You hum… You still got some… pieces of peaches or somethin’ in your hair, Miss…” He explained himself, his voice a little less self-assured than before.

You blushed even more. You indeed must looked like a total mess after your accident, and mentally noted to go fix yourself as soon as possible.

“Oh, God I…” You started, feeling embarrassed and flustered, words mixing and blurring in your mind instead of lining up properly. You just sighed, closing your eyes, giggling a little. You then spoke again, keeping your tone as calm as you could. “Thanks again, Mister Morgan.”

“Please, jus’ call me Arthur.”

“Alright, Arthur. Thank you, for everything. I don’t know how I could thank you enough.”

“You know, maybe I could come someday, at your farm I mean, and buy some of your stuff. You could give me a rebate on those, unless everythin’ you sell actually looks like jam…” He added with a mischievous, low chuckle, gaze sparkling.

“Hey! My crops are perfect, Mister. I promise you won’t be disappointed.” You said back in an equally amused tone, a toothy smile completing the picture of your precious blushing face.

“I'm sure I won’t be, lil’ peach.” 

His voice had turned just as soft as his touch had been when carrying you; for Arthur, you really were starting to become his sugary, soft, and delicious favorite fruit.

[confused-pyramid]

I'll Be Yours In A Landslide | s7 interlude

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: SMUT, oral (fem!receiving), p in v, angst

a/n: IMPORTANT UPDATE: Sorry for the wait guys, I've been super busy with graduating soon and other life updates, so I haven't had any time to write:( I really wanted to give some sort of a tie-up for this series at least for the time being, so I wrote a little interlude for y'all. I am hoping to come back at some point, but for now, I'm putting an indefinite hold on this series. I really appreciate all the comments and messages I've gotten from people, and I hope to talk to you all soon:) Title is from State Lines by Novo Amor

series masterlist

"How could you?"

You push past him, shoving your way into his apartment the moment he opens the door. You were fuming your entire drive over, but now that he's standing in front of you, your mind is a battlefield of warring emotions: I hate you, I love you, I missed you.

"You knew the whole time that she was alive," you gasp, already feeling out of breath, "and you kept it from us. From me."

"I'm sorry." It seems to be the only thing he can say these days. He has said it so many times, he's lost count, but it doesn't make this better. He knows he hurt you, even if he didn't have a choice. "Please just sit down and we can talk."

"No," you shoot back, shaking him off as he tries to step closer. "I'm not gonna calm down right now. I've been keeping this in for months, Aaron. I was there for everyone and no one was there for me."

His brow screws together and you know you're hitting exactly the right spots to make him feel worse, but you can't help it.

"I wanted to tell you," he says, his voice almost frantic as you pace back and forth across his living room. "You have no idea how badly I wanted to tell you all of it, but I couldn't."

"You should've tried harder," you yell, knowing how unfair that is even as you're saying it. His face falls and he turns his palms towards you, like he's about to surrender, but that isn't what you want. You want the fight. It's what you've been waiting for for months.

You open your mouth to yell at him again, but then his eyes find yours, and he looks at you in that way he used to...like it's the first time he's seeing you all over again, and suddenly you're walking toward him. His eyes widen as you crash into him, and before he can understand what's happening, your lips are on his.

It takes him way too long to realize what's happening, but his hands move faster than his brain. They latch onto your waist, tugging you closer, pressing your chest to his, as you gasp into his mouth. When his brain finally catches up, he swears he can see fireworks as you grasp onto him, your lips so soft over his. He's been drowning for months, years, wanting you, waiting for you, pushing you away, and now you're here and he can finally breathe.

"I'm sorry," he whispers against your lips, trying to emphasize how grateful he is to have you back, but you just bring your hands up between you and tear off his open button down before chucking it to the ground.

"Shut up," you mutter, a pang of hurt cutting through even as you try to sound angry. "Just kiss me."

He doesn't make you ask twice. His lips come back to yours as he walks you back towards the couch, your knees buckling when they hit the seat.

Aaron sinks down and pulls you on top of him as you grab at every part of him, your fingers tugging at his collar and your teeth brushing over his bottom lip. The kiss is harsh and he gasps as your nails drag over his skin, but he doesn't care. You're here.

He's falling, succumbing to the overwhelming desire rising up within him, but before he can let go, he pulls back momentarily. "You're sure? I don't want you to regre-"

"I want you," you whisper, the last word turning to a sob against your will. "I'm so mad at you, but I love you and I want you, so please don't stop."

His eyes squint with shame and for a moment you almost feel guilty for how harsh you are being, but then the desire returns and he pulls you down on top of him. Your hands come up to tangle in his hair, and the roughness of his beard feels unfamiliar, yet exciting. When his mouth moves down your jaw, the scratch of his beard against your skin ignites a fire within you.

You claw at his back, trying to pull his tee shirt over his head, and he reaches down, helping you wrest it off and onto the floor. The movement sends your hips back over his groin and he lets out a low groan as he tears your button-down open.

When your top falls to the floor as well, you both pause, finally realizing the gravity of what you're doing. Your eyes drag down his chest, over the thick scars lining his abdomen and collarbone, and soon your fingers are following along, tracing a path of fire over the roughest and most beautiful parts of him. 

You gasp as his fingers ghost over the scar on your waist, where your bullet wound used to be, and before the tears in your eyes can fall, your lips are back on his. 

There's more urgency in your movements this time as you try to relish the feeling of his mouth over your pulse, your hips rolling over him. 

"Bedroom," you whisper as heat spreads between your legs, emanating from the grip of his hands on your thighs. "Now."

He doesn't waste a second as he wraps his arms around your body and stands up, lifting you along with him as he makes his way down the hall. His lips don't leave yours even as he pushes the door open with his back, and he only breaks away to toss you onto the bed. You hit the covers with a gasp, and you see his pupils darken with lust as he climbs over you, his pants already tightening. 

You can hardly believe he's back in your life again, and even as anger and hurt cloud your vision, he's here in front of you, and you need him as close as humanly possible.

"I want you too," he says suddenly, his eyes finding yours in a moment of earnestness. "So much...for so long."

Your throat thickens with tears again, and you can't decide whether you want to blink them away or let them fall, but then he quickly tugs your jeans and panties off in one go and every thought leaves your brain. 

He looks animalistic as he peppers kisses up your legs, his mouth warm and wet as he stops just before your core for an extra second to rile you up.

"Aaron," you groan, threading your fingers into his hair and tugging him forward. You won't beg, not right now, but he gets the idea.

He practically grins at your desperation, drawing it out a bit longer by sucking bruises into your thighs, before he finally goes where you are willing him to. Your head falls back with a gasp as he plunges his tongue down, licking a trail up your slit that has you writhing beneath him.

He presses his hands into your thighs, spreading them apart as your hips jut off the bed. His tongue feels like heaven as he works you open along with his fingers, getting you close within a matter of minutes. 

"Aaron, please-" you gasp out, your words cutting off as he hooks his finger up, his movements precise in a way that both surprises and exhilarates you. You're not even sure what you're asking him for, you just need more of him. 

It's like he can hear your thoughts, because his fingers start moving faster, and when your grip on his hair tightens, he lets out a low hum that vibrates up your core.

You are barely aware of what your legs are doing, but when he grabs your ankle and lifts your leg over his shoulder, your head flies back and you're moaning his name so loudly, you're afraid the neighbors will come knocking.

"Yes," you gasp, your fingers pulling at his hair harder you mean to.

He laves over your clit, alternating between sucking and licking, until you come apart under his tongue, your mouth falling open with a loud cry. 

You taste incredible, and he's so hard that his jeans have become uncomfortably tight, but even as you cry out his name, it's not enough. He wants to see you come apart under him.

Gripping your hips, he yanks you down so that you're lying directly beneath his body, eliciting a soft moan from you. Your eyes are wide with bliss as you look up at him, your eyelashes fluttering softly, and he has to grip the sheets beside your head to keep his pants from tightening any further.

His knee presses down on the bed between your thighs as he lifts you up and deftly unclasps your bra, before gently dropping it to the floor. When he returns his gaze back to you, his breath stutters as he takes in the sight before him.

"Beautiful," he whispers, almost as an afterthought. "You're so beautiful." 

He has always known it, but something about seeing you in his bed, like this, feels unbelievable. Like he somehow did everything exactly right. Except you didn't, his brain reminds him. You did everything wrong, and still got this lucky.

Maybe it is luck. But whatever it is that brought him here, he isn't going to waste another second thinking about it.

You help him tug his pants off, and when he chucks his boxers off right after, his cock springs free, hard and ready without you even touching him. Your mouth floods with saliva as his knee presses forward between your legs, and you reach down to take him in your hands, but he pushes you back with a small shake of his head.

He wants to feel you more than anything else in the world right now, but he's already so riled up, he's afraid to let you touch him until he's inside of you. He reaches over to the nightstand and grabs a foil packet to cover himself, before he lowers himself down.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice gruff even to his own ears.

You nod, your legs spreading as he lines himself up, and his breath gets stuck in his throat when he slowly pushes in. Your mouth falls open as he fills you up, taking his time to push forward until he's fully seated inside of you.

He's big enough that you need a few moments to adjust, but once he starts moving, a string of moans falls from your lips. He leans forward to press a kiss to your jaw, then your lips, and when he pulls back, his pupils are so dark you can barely make out the color of his eyes.

"You're perfect," he whispers against your skin as he presses his mouth to your neck, his hips slowly rocking into you. "You're everything."

After growing accustomed to his size, the stretch feels amazing, and you try to respond, but your head just falls back onto the pillow as waves of pleasure roll over you. You remember your dream from while he was gone, the hazy sequence that had you waking up in a heated fervor, and you can't help but think about how much better he is in real life. How you waited for so many years, and even when it hurt like hell, it was all still worth it.

He starts to thrust faster, and you hike your knees up, trying to change the angle to get him even deeper inside of you. When he hits the right spot, you let out a high gasp and your walls involuntarily squeeze around him.

"Fuck," he mutters through gritted teeth as his rhythm falters slightly. "You can't do that." He dips down to press his lips to yours for a sharp kiss. "I'm already close."

"Me too," you cry, realizing it as it flies out of your mouth. "I'm so close."

Your words seem to flip a switch in his brain. You watch as his eyes darken and his rhythm picks back up, like he only has one goal and he won't stop until he gets it. 

You're starting to squeeze around him again, and he fists the comforter next to you as he thrusts faster, his other hand coming down between the two of you. It doesn't take him more than a few seconds to find your clit, and when his thumb flicks over it once, then twice, your breath stutters and your walls close around him so suddenly that he nearly finds his release as well.

You look magical as you fall apart below him, and he keeps moving inside of you, working you through it as he commits the image to memory. You let out a soft sigh as you come down from your high, but it only takes a few more thrusts for him to near the edge.

"Where do you want me?" he asks, his voice a low hum as you run your fingers through his hair, your nails scratching over his scalp.

You gasp quietly. "Come inside me. Please." 

He groans, picking up his pace again, and wraps his arms around you in an effort to bring you even closer. You press your lips to his as he releases, swallowing his gasps while he slowly comes down.

He pulls out slowly, taking care not to hurt you when you're sensitive, before heading into the bathroom. He returns after a minute with a small towel that he uses to carefully clean both of you up with. 

After tossing it away, he climbs back into the bed and tugs you close to him, your back pressing into his front like a pair of puzzle pieces. The day is starting to catch up with you, and you feel tiredness pull at your eyes as his chest rises and falls evenly behind you.

"I'm in love with you," he says suddenly, his voice hurried like he surprised even himself. "I'm sorry if it isn't the right time or if that isn't what you wanted from this, but-"

"Aaron," you cut him off, turning over so that you can reach up and thread your fingers through his hair. "I'm in love with you too. Of course I am."

He lets out a breath, and you can almost hear the relief in his sigh as he wraps an arm around you and tucks you into his side. Unsurprisingly, he's a furnace wrapped up beside you, but you can't bring yourself to move, especially with how much comfort his mere presence brings you.

You lay there for a while, taking this uninterrupted time to re-memorize his face as his breath evens out. You could never forget anything about him, but he's been gone for so long that you expect there are hundreds of new facets to him that you'll get to learn.

His eyes have been closed long enough that you assume he is asleep, but then his breath stutters and you look up at him as he squeezes you closer in his arms.

"I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice sending reverberations through his chest. "I know you know I couldn't tell you everything, but I should have let you in more-"

"I don't want to talk about this right now." Your voice is strong, and he must hear the finality in your tone, because he immediately quiets down. "I know you're sorry...and we'll talk about this more in the morning. But right now, I just want to be here with you. I just got you back."

He's quiet for a moment, but you feel his chin dip down in a nod. "Morning then. Good night."

His arms tighten around you and you snuggle next to him, every part of you interweaving in an effort to get closer than you already are. 

That night, you have the best sleep you've had in years.

TAGLIST:@citrusiove, @yiiiikesmish, @mdanon027, @alice-w0rld, @beata1108, @bakugocanstompme, @raely-study, @himboelover, @hermionegalathynius, @rousethemouse, @calif0rniadreamin, @tolerateit13, @delusional-13s-blog, @madesavage05, @littlemisskavities, @love13tter, @domithebomi, @guacam011y, @averyhotchner, @silver-studios, @whosmys, @mimi-sanisanidiot, @chronicallybubbly, @shilphy87, @threespacemonkeys, @zaddyhotch, @slytherin-min99, @endofthexline, @thattookaturnforthenerdy

[zara-renata]

Roleplay, Undercurrents, and Rising Curtain: Sylus's POV

It really bothers me in the game that the clearly traumatic experiences MC undergoes in the canon storyline don't seem to have any consequences for MC's character development. Yes, yes, this is a self-insert gacha mobile game, blah blah. MC has PTSD from chapter 4 (you know the one), and no one can convince me otherwise, so I re-wrote the auction bits from Sylus's POV to fix this grievous oversight, because I am also firmly convinced he is a champ at handling MC's issues.

Third person POV (Sylus), second person POV (gender-neutral reader/MC) CWs: violence, murder, foul language, cursing, mentions of trauma/PTSD/panic attacks, Sylus is giddy being able to be near MC again even though MC is still mean to him

SFW if you think murder and Sylus's singing is SFW

ao3 link here

He is watching you from the shadowed doorway as you examine yourself in the mirror. He can almost see your mind tick, tick, ticking away, evaluating the quality of your costume for tonight, the slight frown on your face betraying your uncertainty that you, and he, will be able to pull tonight off and emerge on the other side in one piece.

He is used to this type of soirée, a viper’s den wrapped in velvet and silk, the veneer of civility paper-thin, where one wrong look or clumsy response can cost you your reputation, or much, much more. And as a betting man, he’d gamble that you, on the other hand, are not used to this type of gathering at all. You who are straightforward, with your fangs bared and guns blazing, the honesty palpable in your bright eyes and laughter, in your scowl and impatience and eagerness.

He steps into the light, revealing his presence to you through the mirror, and watches as you turn to him, draped in scarlet, and a pulse of satisfaction has his lips lifting. You look delicious, with your head tilted haughtily, the red jewels flashing from your neck and wrists. Your outfits match, and you’re dripping in stones and fabric the color of his eyes. He hasn’t felt this sense of satiation in a long, long time. He pins the brooch above your heart and looks into your eyes, and it doesn’t matter that even though you know the truth now, you are still looking at him with the cold unfamiliarity of someone constantly assessing the possible threat in every gesture he makes. It doesn’t matter that even though he’s helping you, you’re still treating him like the enemy, when it is everyone outside these walls who threaten you, and he is currently the only one defending the gates and preparing to shatter the siege.

None of that matters. Because you’re right here, finally. You’re allowing him to touch you, as he smooths the fabric around where he has just pinned the brooch, your heartbeat strong and steady under his palm—you’re reaching out to him, sliding your hand in his; he can’t feel your skin through your gloves but he can feel your heat at his side, in his palm. He will ensure that, with time, the look in your eyes changes when you feel him appear behind you, when your palms touch.

You say something biting to him, full of doubt, the wariness and spite palpable, and he revels in how safe you must feel with him already to extend your claws around him like this, to be reckless and treat him like an insufferable puppy that you’re forced to indulge instead of the half-feral wolf that he is to so many others. The progress from hate and fear from just a few days ago, to this snarky impatience is intoxicating, better than any gin fizz or successful wager—it’s faster than he had calculated as the blood poured from his heart and you spitefully jammed your palms into his chest in an attempt to stem the flow.

In short, Sylus is in a great mood tonight and he’s looking forward to exterminating the rest of the vermin that have been gnawing away at the foundations of his house in his long absence. And he’s going to make damn well sure that he gets to dance with you before the fireworks truly begin.

Things are going according to plan—he snickers, recalling that this plan is the one you accused him of not having. He will show you, in time, that he always has plans, with backup plans, and backups to the backup plans. He can forgive you for not knowing that about him yet. But you’re the only person he’s in a forgiving mood toward tonight. He has deposited you safely at the bidding room of the auction, the subtle glow of the protocores illuminating the lovely line of your haughtily upturned nose as you sauntered away from him clutching his black card, the other guests whispering in a painfully unsubtle manner behind their hands, speculating about who you are and the nature of your relationship to him. Mine, he had declared, as he handed over his proverbial wallet and told you to have fun.

As he strides down the dimly lit hall of the hotel in which the auction is being held, the deep carpet shushing his purposeful steps, he spots one of Sherman’s minions standing at attention at a closed door and can’t prevent the excitement rushing through him. He is so close to the craven idiot who dared act in his name, who sowed discord in his ranks, who hurt you so terribly and deprived you of your ‘family’, who, regardless of Sylus’s opinion of them, you clearly loved deeply. He is eager to kill two birds with one stone (apologies to Mephisto): wipe Sherman’s existential stain off this plane of existence, clean his house, avenge your loss, and be back to dance with you in a matter of minutes. The lackey finally notices him, begins lifting his wrist to speak into his earpiece, but unfortunately for him, he is little too late, as Sylus’ evol jerks him into the air by his neck—he is about to tighten it to snap the fuck’s spine in two when he hears your gorgeous voice through his own earpiece.

He pauses, suddenly anxious that something has gone wrong for you that and you’re in danger and that he’s not there, when he hears you say, “Do you mind if I use your card to buy one of these protocores?”

He shakes his head a little. Did he just hear you correctly? He might have to re-evaluate his estimation of your intelligence. He will continue to adore you even if you’re a little slow; your other qualities more than make up for any deficiencies in the intelligence department. Because why the fuck else would he hand you the equivalent of unfettered access to his bank account and tell you to have fun? Of course you can buy whatever the hell you want with it. But he knows you’re clever; the way you meet and counter his sarcasm, taunts and challenges without hesitation makes that clear. And you wouldn’t have survived for this long, risen to one of the elite teams in the Association’s ranks, if you were an imbecile. But he is busy, your sudden question made him anxious for you, and he's frothing at the mouth to get back to you to claim his dance.

“Do not bother me with such trivial matters!” he hisses into his own earpiece, and watches as the eyes of the idiot, who he still has by the throat, bulge further in response to his assailant angry-whispering into the empty hallway.

He’s about to finish this when he hears your voice again, offering an offensively low sum for the highest grade protocore this pretentious establishment has to offer.

“5 million!” he counters in a whisper-shout. He is not going to let these clowns think that your man is broke. He waits to hear your response, finally noticing that the guard he still has suspended in the air has passed out. When he hears you double the amount he had ordered you to offer, and then proceed to demand the rest of the items up for bid, Sylus laughs so hard that he momentarily loses control of his evol and the unconscious goon falls with an unceremonious, muffled thump onto the richly carpeted floor. Sylus contemplates his crumpled form for a moment, wiping the tears from his eyes. Suddenly he doesn’t have it in him to kill a guy who is probably only here for a paycheck, even if he does have atrocious taste in employers.

“You can thank my charming guest for your life tonight, if you manage to get through it alive,” he murmurs to the lump on the floor, before punching the door open with his evol-wrapped fist and striding in to find Sherman turning with a look of horror on his face as he recognizes who, precisely, was just laughing like a madman on the other side of the now ruined door.

After, once Sylus has successfully avenged himself and more importantly, you, he hums a little tune as he picks up Sherman’s detonator and saunters back to the ballroom. Maybe, if things keep going as well as they’re going now, and you like him a little better, he’ll sing it to you as a treat. Because of you, he's having so much fun.

*

And now, finally, he is going to claim his own treat before the action really begins. The utter boredom he was forced to endure while interrogating Sherman and uncovering his trite motivations is replaced by an eagerness bordering on mania to get back to his interesting little Hunter. He watches in amusement as a man sidles up to you and shows interest in your brooch, after having thoroughly shown interest in the rest of you before mustering the courage to actually speak to you.

He watches with slightly less amusement as your curiosity is piqued and you ask with your customary eagerness to learn new things, “Hightower? What’s that?” The man’s eyes light up at this apparent interest of yours, seeing an in with you and assertively requesting that you join him for the banquet dance.

Aaaand that’s enough. Sylus steps into the light and slides his hand around your waist, pulling you decisively into his side and feeling that dangerously seductive calm wash over him, as it always does, when he’s allowed to touch you. He knows it makes him weak. He does not care. His other strengths more than compensate for the crack in his armor you represent. Unlike Achilles, he knows exactly how to protect his vulnerability. His hand flexes involuntarily, fingers pressing a little too hard into your hip, until he is able to will it relaxed again.

“A Hightower is a type of gun. Just one can level this entire building,” he answers your question, fingering the detonator in his other pocket. He doesn’t need a Hightower to finish what he started tonight, and the thought translates into an the intense smugness as you frown at him for interrupting your conversation with your luckless suitor. “The brooch is a gift from me, I’m afraid,” he says smoothly, more than ready to send this guy scurrying along his way and draw your entire focus back to him, where he likes it best.

“You weren’t trying to sell it now, were you, kitten?” he goads you, just to see how you’ll respond to this blatant mischaracterization of the situation.

You don’t disappoint him: with your tight jaw belying your coy tone of voice, you run your hands  up his chest, underneath the coat draped over his shoulders, and pretend to be a spoiled, thrill seeking brat testing a sugar daddy’s patience. Finally, the insignificant obstacle standing between him and the dance he has been looking forward to all evening gets the hint and slinks back into the crowded shadows.

And finally, finally, the music begins, bodies are moving around the two of you, and you’re in his arms as he gracefully leads you through the steps of the dance. He soaks in the feeling of his arm around your waist, your hand in his, your chests brushing against each other as you sway together across the dance floor. He notices that your attention is split between expressing doubt about whether he’s telling the truth regarding knowing the aether core’s location and constantly assessing potential threats—but Sylus does not want your eyes drifting elsewhere. He smoothly draws your eyes back to his, where they belong, and ensures that the only thing you can see is him by tightening his arm around your waist, drawing you in closer, and refusing to give you a direct answer to all of your questions. He sees your little scowl, the frustration in the line of your mouth, suppresses a wince when you deliberately stomp on his foot—but he doesn’t mind. Just as he doesn’t mind that you might not believe that he’s fulfilled his part of the deal, that he knows exactly where the aether core is, and that he has his own house’s situation finally under control with Sherman’s demise. In time, you’ll learn that you can trust him. And he has all the time in the world, now that you’re finally here and not trying to kill him.

He's in such a good mood he’s floating like a feather, until you mention the protocore bombs and something changes in the expression on your face. If he hadn’t been staring at your lovely face for weeks now, from afar through Mephisto and hacked security cameras, and while you were sleeping under his roof (if you have an objection to him exploiting your proximity by watching you as you sleep when you’re right there, under his roof, then sue him), and if he wasn’t currently in the process of soaking in every microexpression flitting across your upturned face from this close as you dance together, he might have missed it. But he doesn’t miss it. And he certainly doesn’t miss the involuntary shudder that runs through your body pressed to his. He realizes in a flash of intuition that the idea of the bombs bothers you—

He watches your throat as you swallow, and the very light sheen of sweat gathering at your temples, he watches your eyes begin to dart around again, your hand flexing with what is likely the need to grab your gun from underneath the fabric of your outfit, and he realizes that you’re starting to panic. Or have a panic attack. At the thought of bombs—

Like the bomb that destroyed your family and came so close to killing you too

He has watched you for weeks, seen the way you’ve worked almost non-stop, taking on assignment after assignment with hardly any rest in between except for when you were on the brink of collapse. When you weren’t working, you were training, kilometer after kilometer on the treadmill, heavier and heavier weight sets. And when you weren’t training, you were trying to orchestrate a way to infiltrate his territory, to hunt him and the aether core down. You weren’t sleeping, and you weren’t attending counseling. You haven’t processed what happened to you at all, and no one around you has forced you to confront what you have been avoiding this whole time. The dark circles under your precious eyes, the short fuse and oh so transparent mask of a smile plastered across your lovely, exhausted face—how they just let you continue as you have been infuriates him, and only the thought that he’s here now, in your life, whether you like it or not, is the only thing that stops him from adding new names to his extermination list. He will succeed where they have failed to care for you, even if you hate him for it.

However, he takes a moment to reproach himself, as just a few hours ago he was gloating to himself that soon you’d learn that his contingency plans have contingencies, that you could trust him to think of all the variables and know how to dismantle any obstacles. Yet he has been missing something so obvious while making his calculations of how tonight would go. Of course you’d have remaining trauma from what you have survived and what has been taken from you.

He recalculates—it’s too late to change the state of play now, but instead of the fireworks he has been looking forward to unleashing into chaos, this is now going to have to be a controlled demolition.

He lifts his hand and runs his fingertips along the curve of your jaw to return your focus to him. Once your too wide eyes are locked on his, he tightens his hold around your waist again.

“Look at me. Look only at me.” He waits, and something inside of him crows in triumph as, your hands tightening on him, you follow his directions and stare into his eyes, letting him continue speaking without struggle.

“We are going to detonate the bombs now that were originally intended later for me, kitten. It’s going to be loud, and most of this place will be rubble when we’re done.”

Before you can ask the how and why, he continues. “I have the detonator. I know you’re frightened. I’m sorry this is the method that I have tonight. But keep your eyes on me, and breathe. We’ll get through this together, do you understand?”

He can sense the shift in the energy of the room, the metaflux fluctuations and the increasing violent mood of the crowd, but he will make time for this and deal with any fallout from this slight delay. He will ensure that you get through this without spiraling into a panic attack and possibly getting hurt.

“Do you understand?” he asks again. And that same satisfaction, the sense of calm, that only you seem to be able to give him floods through him as you take a shuddering breath and nod, ever so slightly, eyes never leaving his.

He lets his fingers drift down your face, takes your hand in his and slips both of them into his pocket, pulling you even closer, your cheek coming to rest against his chest. He guides your hand around the detonator in his pocket, squeezing your hand gently in reassurance. “We’ll do this together. You’re in control,” he murmurs, eyes scanning the crowd now, having utter faith that you will have the courage to press the button despite the dread that must be filling you right now.

And you, with your cheek pressed against his warm chest, his steady heartbeat drowning out all the other sounds, including the ringing in your ears, your own thundering heartbeat, flashes of memory, a door closing, Caleb’s last words to you—you close your eyes and press, and the world explodes around the two of you. But you’re breathing, and Sylus is still holding you tight, and you’re alive, and you’ll deal with the terror threatening to drown you after you’ve gotten what you came for.

After you take one deep, slow breath, you reach for your gun, shove Sylus to the side and shoot the wanderer that was about to stab him in the back.

[starlovesganyu]

just found your blog and I really like your hcs, may I request hcs where s/o reader gives genshin girls headpats? if you don't mind I specially want hu tao plsllsplsplspsl thank you

giving them headpats!

❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀--❀

ty for the ask!

various characters x gn!reader

characters: lumine, nilou, ei, hu tao, charlotte, jean

warnings: none

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

lumine -`✮´-

• she'll smile uncontrollably and look away in embarrassment

"w-what's with the heat patting?"

• as you continue patting her head, she'll gently wrap her arms around you and rest her head on your chest

"i can hear your heartbeat"

• being near to you makes her feel at ease, but now she doesn't want to let go

• you tell her she needs to go buy the groceries for tonight's dinner

• but when she turns her head to look at you with those eyes, you melt instantly

• you're pretty sure there are leftovers in the fridge anyway

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

nilou -`✮´-

• will blush and giggle like a schoolgirl

"hehe S/O, your hand is so warm!"

• don't you dare move your hand away

• will pout, grab your hand, and place it back on her head

• your hand gently patting and rubbing her head helps her relax, and she feels all her stress and anxiety fading away

• always gives you puppy eyes the second time you pull away

"just a little while longer...please?"

you better comply

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

ei -`✮´-

• more confused than anything

"what are you doing?"

• once you explain how it's a display of affection, she allows you to continue

"an activity that couples commonly indulge in you say..."

• tries to act like she is indifferent about it, successfully keeping a straight face, but she subconsciously nuzzles her head into your hand

"this is...nice"

• was that a look of disappointment in her eyes when you pulled your hand away?

• in the future, she'll start patting you on the head!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

hu tao -`✮´-

• will giggle and pat your head in return

• except her “pat” is much more destructive, and it completely messes up your hair

• and she’ll dodge all of your attempts at getting her back

“gotta be faster S/O!”

• devolves into all out warfare, ending with both of you on the ground, hu tao sitting on your chest, a triumphant look on her face

• the surrounding area is a complete mess: books strewn across the floor, the couch is upside down, the table is flipped, and paintings are no longer hanging on the wall

• demands more headpats as her reward

• will not be telling you it's because your hands make her feel all bubbly inside

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

charlotte -`✮´-

• her face lights up like a firework

"hehe...thanks S/O!"

• as you continue your patting, she gets increasingly flustered

• when you finally lift you hand off her head, the tips of her ears are bright red, and she refuses to meet your gaze

• quickly says goodbye and dashes off

• there's a little skip in her step when she goes to work that day!

• throughout her workday, she'll smile and giggle to herself when she remembers that morning

• when you check the steambird the next day, you'll find an article on all the good things about you, submitted by an anonymous writer

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

jean -`✮´-

• a slight pink dusts her cheeks when you pat her on the head

• tries to keep a straight face, she is the acting grandmaster after all, but you can see the corners of her lips tugging upwards

"y-you know i'm not a little kid anymore...right?"

• makes no move to stop you though

• reaches to grab your hand when you pull away, but stops herself

• she has an internal battle of whether to give in to her desires, or preserve some dignity

"w-wait...wait..."

"i never told you to stop..."

a/n: sorry if there were any mistakes