#this took much longer than it should have because i was very enamored with him and anjali's chemistry once again

[talesfromthecrypts]

Neil Newbon for An Astarion and Karlach Adventure: Love is a Legendary Action

[himluv]

Combustible

Here's another chapter of Say My Name (Say it Twice), in which Lucanis makes stew, and Bellara gets suspicious.

Lucanis leaned against the butcher’s block in the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee while stew simmered on the stove. It’d been a long day of tending to the dish, tasting it a various stages, adjusting the herbs and spices until he got it just right. Or, at least, what he hoped would be right. He wouldn’t know until Rook took a bite. 

She’d been out all day, in Minrathous with Neve. He was glad the woman had returned to the Lighthouse – the place had felt wrong without her. Like a piece of their home was missing. But even with Neve back, things were tense and Rook was eager to prove that she still cared about Dock Town. And while Lucanis knew she did, convincing Neve of her sincerity was going to be an uphill battle. 

Things were shaky for everyone in the Lighthouse at the moment. A nice, hearty dish might be just what they all needed. He stirred the stew, and checked on the squash roasting in the oven for Emmrich, then started on the mashed potatoes. It wouldn’t be much longer now. 

Spite inhaled, his face directly over the stew. Meat. For Rook.

“Yes,” he said. There was more than meat in that pot, but he hardly expected the demon to identify every herb and vegetable in just one sniff. Though… Spite hadn’t mentioned the wine. Should he add another splash?

Make Rook. Happy?

“I hope so.”

Spite growled, but it sounded more pensive than upset. No! Have other reasons. Spite leered at him, the steam from the pot rising up through his visage in a very disconcerting way. Pleasure for pleasure.

Mierda. It was bad enough that he couldn’t escape his own thoughts, but having a demon poke and prod at them, too? Torture. Especially when those thoughts were as unexpected and confusing as his for Rook had been lately. 

Want. Rook. It wasn’t a question anymore – they both knew better than that. But it seemed Spite didn’t understand what it meant to want someone. Which, Lucanis thought was reasonable, seeing as he barely understood it himself. 

He had never felt like this before. Even with Viago he had never reached this level of… interest. Lucanis had been enamored with the man, wanted to spend time with him to get to know him better. But he had never thought about the Fifth Talon so… viscerally. 

Rook was in his head constantly. He wanted to know everything about her, wanted to listen to her talk about anything and everything. He wanted to make her delicious foods she would never make for herself and drink coffee with her by the fire. He imagined nights spent knitting while she read a book to him. And when she reached one of the spicier scenes in one of his romance novels, he imagined they would set the book aside and find out what it was like for themselves. 

He felt foolish when he caught himself fantasizing about Rook. Like a lovestruck teen, hormone-addled and impulsive. But he couldn’t keep his thoughts from treading the same, sensual paths night after night. 

Maker, was this what most people felt like all the time? Just… undiluted desire pumping through their veins because someone was pretty to look at? How did anyone accomplish anything?

Lucanis shook his head and added more salt to the potatoes. Potatoes always needed more salt than one might expect. A little milk, some cheese, and coarse-ground pepper would finish them nicely. 

The door to the dining hall opened, and Lucanis froze at the surge of anticipation and nerves that rolled through him. But, it was only Bellara. 

“Wow, Lucanis,” she said as she reached the kitchen. “That smells amazing!”

“Thank you,” he said. 

She leaned over the stove, oblivious to Spite still standing there, so she too could sniff at the stew. “Some sort of venison stew?” She looked around and noticed the potatoes and cheese.

“Yes,” he said. “I thought something hearty might be appreciated.”

She leaned against the butcher block and crossed her arms. “Uh-huh,” she said. She didn’t sound very convinced of his motivations. She watched him for a moment, waited for him to dip his spoon into the stew and taste the gravy. 

Then she said, “you know, I’m pretty sure I remember Rook talking about a dish exactly like this. From her days in the Alienage.”

For a split-second, Lucanis froze with the spoon in his mouth. Then he turned his back to Bellara and set the spoon aside. “Can you hand me that wine?” He gestured vaguely toward her, and waited with his hand outstretched until the bottle met his palm. “Thank you.”

He added a healthy pour and a dash more pepper, then stirred the stew one more time. It would need another ten to twenty minutes to reduce and cook out the alcohol, then dinner would be done. With a sigh, he turned to face Bellara.

“What’s going on with you and Rook?” She asked.

He shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “Nothing.”

“Really?” She squinted at him. “Because you two sure are together a lot.”

He snorted at that. “Not any more than she is with anyone else here.”

“You may never sleep,” she said. “But I also barely sleep and I see Rook come in here in the middle of the night.”

Lucanis pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s not–”

“And now you’re making meals just for her?”

“There’s enough for everyone,” he said. “And there’s squash for Emmrich in the oven.”

Bellara scowled at him. “You know what I mean!” Then she looked away from him, her expression softening into something sad. “This isn’t letting her down gently, Lucanis.”

Oh. In all that had happened in these past weeks, he’d completely forgotten about their conversation after he’d taken Rook to Café Pietra. Bellara had warned him that Rook’s heart might still be tender, that he should turn down her flirtations gently, if he could. He’d thought little of it, because he hadn’t expected to return them at all. 

And here he was, cooking her favorite meal and fantasizing about making love in front of the fireplace.

Selfish, Spite breathed at his ear. 

“Mierda.” He shook his head, chiding himself for the fool he was. “Bellara,” he said, voice gentle. “This isn’t one of your serials, or one of my romance novels.”

That got a little smile from her, even as she rolled her eyes at him. 

“I’m not making any overtures–”

–Liar– 

“–I’m just making dinner.”

Bellara slumped against the butcher block, her face still worried. “But, does Rook know that?”

He turned back to the stove to test the texture of the potatoes. He preferred a waxy potato, with plenty of milk or cheese to give them a creamy texture, and these ones were almost perfect. 

“Why should she suspect otherwise?” He asked, without looking at Bellara.

“Lucanis–”

The door opened as Rook and Neve walked into the dining hall. The two weren’t quite laughing, but the conversation seemed amiable enough. It seemed that Neve might not hold Rook’s decision to save Treviso against her forever, after all. The relief that swept through him at the thought surprised him. It reminded him of the many times he’d been caught between Caterina and Illario, when all he wanted was peace for his family. 

Family? Spite hissed. Neve and Rook. Family!?

Lucanis would have to think about that later. Rook was here and Bellara was already suspicious – he needed to focus. 

Rook stopped when she reached the table, face uplifted to sniff the air. Her brow furrowed and then her eyes locked onto Lucanis. “Is that…?” 

She joined him and Bellara in the kitchen and immediately stuck her face over the pot of stew, breathing deeply. Neve followed not far behind her, eyes roving over the scene. 

Rook turned to look at him, her eyes wide. “You made stew?”

He shrugged. “I tried.”

Neve leaned on the butcher block beside Bellara. “What’s the significance of stew?”

Bellara frowned at Lucanis. “Yeah. What is the significance of stew, Lucanis?”

Neve glanced between him and Bellara, noting the tension between them with a raised eyebrow. 

Rook was oblivious. She took another deep inhale over the pot and grinned. “I told Lucanis about this stew weeks ago! I used to get it in Wycome.”

Bellara stared daggers at him, while Neve tilted her head and smirked. “Is that right?” She asked. 

“I thought we’d all earned a little comfort food,” he said. 

Neve crossed her arms over her chest. “So when are you making khachapuri?”

He snorted at that. “As soon as you get me those damned cheeses.”

She rolled her eyes. “That’s fair, I guess.” She elbowed Bellara. “Come on, Bel. Let’s get the others.”

Bellara looked like she’d rather hold hands with a rage demon than leave Lucanis and Rook alone. But she couldn’t reasonably deny Neve’s invitation, so the two set off to gather their friends for dinner. Which left him alone with Rook.

“This smells amazing, Lucanis,” she said. 

He smirked. “Smell is important, but the real test is the taste.” He took out another spoon and handed it to her. She took it, her fingers brushing against his, and Lucanis gasped at the touch. He released the spoon as if it held an electrical charge. 

Rook looked up at him with wide, wondering eyes, her lips deliciously parted. Lucanis’s heart pounded in his chest. He felt flushed. Exposed. Every one of his instincts told him this was dangerous, that he needed to step back and put some space between them once again. And yet he could not look away from her. 

She took a step closer. “Lucanis…”

Mierda, the way she said his name. Low and soft and wanting. He would replay it over and over in the sleepless nights to come, the sweetest torture he’d ever known. But that was all he could allow, just the memory of his name on her tongue. 

“Rook, I–” Lucanis shook his head. 

The dining hall door opened, breaking the spell. They each jumped back, Rook blushing as she turned to grab a stack of bowls and their friends gathered around the table. Lucanis cleared his throat and distracted himself with stirring the stew. 

“Smells great, Lucanis,” Harding called. “Can I help with anything?”

“I think we’ve got it,” Rook called. Without another word, she helped Lucanis ladle the stew into each bowl, then carefully topped each one with a thick layer of mashed potatoes. The ease with which they worked, the natural way they navigated the small kitchen, made Lucanis feel flushed all over again. 

Feels like home, Spite said. 

Lucanis said nothing as they all sat down to eat, Rook at the head of the table with him to her right. He barely listened to the conversations happening around him, the laughter and the warmth making him smile – even if he didn’t know what was being said. The only thing he truly focused on was Rook. 

He watched her take that first bite. Her eyes closed, eyelids fluttering with pleasure. The spoon slid from her mouth slowly as she moaned her delight at the taste. The sound sent a jolt of heat through Lucanis and he could not help but blush. It was the most indecent sound he’d ever heard and he desperately wanted to make her do it again. 

Rook chewed, licked her lips, and when she opened her eyes she looked right into his. 

“Well?” He asked. His voice was low, meant only for her. “What do you think?”

Her eyes darted across his face, and whatever she saw there made her smirk. She tilted her head, dipped her spoon back into her bowl and took another bite. Again, her face bloomed with pleasure, and again she moaned against her spoon.

Mierda. Did she know what this did to him? Was she doing this on purpose?

When their eyes met again, the wicked glint in her gaze was answer enough. Lucanis thought he might combust there in his chair at the dining table if she kept looking at him like that. Thankfully, she was a merciful woman. 

Her expression softened, and the shimmering heat in her eyes cooled into gratitude. “This is the best stew I’ve ever had,” she said. “Thank you, Lucanis.” 

Slowly, telegraphing her intention so he could avoid it if he wanted, Rook put her hand on his forearm. Her palm was rough with the familiar callouses of dagger pommels, and warm. So, so warm. He stared down at where her hand rested on his arm and struggled to keep his breathing even. 

She squeezed once, such a gentle pressure, and then released him. “This was exactly what I needed,” she said. 

He reached for his wine glass and took several undignified swallows before he was able to look at her once more. “I’m glad you liked it,” he said, voice low and rough. Then he shot her a daring smirk of his own. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can make for you.”

Rook hummed, a pleased little sound. “I will,” she said. 

Lucanis had never looked forward to anything more in his life. 

[theflyingfeeling]

💖 it's here, it's pink, it's sparkly, and full of fluff 💖

Hiiiiii and welcome to witness my attempt at an Olli/Allu Advent Calendar, in which I'll give you ~a cute little something~ about these two idiots in love almost every day until December 24! My plan is to use prompts from this list to either write a fic based on the prompt or just some good ol' delulu thoughts if all else fails. I cannot guarantee there'll be a post literally every day, but I'm really excited to try this out and I thank you for your support along the way in advance 💝

The biggest thanks and a million hugs go to one of my favourite human beings @kraeuterhexchen for making the adorable banner!! I mean helloooooo?? 😭 Go show them some love ❣️

For December 1, the prompt list is titled One True Pairing Moments, and the prompt I chose was 'calling just to hear their voice' 🥺 You can read the fic below, I hope you like it <3

.

PS. Even though this is an advent calendar of sorts, I'm not planning on making this particularly Christmassy. I hope no one minds terribly!

~

Falling for Aleksi had, in a way, sneaked up on Olli, at least if he fooled himself a little. He could pretend he didn’t feel any different about the man than he did about, say, Joonas or Tommi, but that strategy only worked for so long – that is to say, approximately until Aleksi as much as smiled softly at him from across a room or bumped his shoulder into his jovially when walking down the street and Olli would feel his breath getting caught in his throat or stumble in his words, his tongue tangled like shoelaces, which was so unlike him as well and frustrated him to no end. It really took a special kind of fool to not only develop some level of feelings for a friend, a colleague, a bandmate for Christ’s sake, but also become so hopelessly enamored with him that you rolled awake in bed in the dead of night, grabbing your phone and tossing it back on the nightstand again and again because you couldn’t decide whether or not you should, on some erratic 2 o’clock impulse, call him to let him know he was the very reason for your insomnia. 

Turning on his back, Olli groaned (only a little desperately) as he remembered losing himself in the lingering hug they had shared just before the arrivals lobby at the airport, inhaling Aleksi’s scent and wishing they wouldn’t have to go home just yet, even if Olli was more than ready to finally sleep in his own bed again. Ironically, ever since they had returned home from tour, Olli had spent night after sleepless night missing Aleksi terribly: his stupid jokes and playful banter that bordered on being flirtatious if Olli allowed himself the benefit of delusion; his quick, subtle smiles that probably meant nothing; his little touches Olli hoped meant something; his smell and his touch and the softness of his hair at the back of his neck, compared to which the blanket Olli was grasping in his fist was like sandpaper. (How he had come to know of the qualities of Aleksi’s hair in such detail, he preferred not to dwell on too much to save himself from the heartache, so let’s just leave it at ‘stressful, emotional week far away from home’ and ‘a little too much to drink’).

Above all, Olli missed Aleksi’s voice. He hadn’t even thought that was possible, until the other morning when Olli had woken up to a voice message Aleksi had left just hours earlier, rambling about a song idea he had gotten in the middle of the night – something he did from time to time – and Olli had spent the next several minutes replaying it over and over again as he had lied in bed procrastinating getting up and and instead closing his eyes to better imagine Aleksi lying there beside him, turned on his side to face Olli, talking to him sleepily like they often did when they shared a room on tour and were just too lazy to join others at breakfast. Much like the hug at the airport, Olli wished those moments would have lasted way longer than they did, often ending abruptly when either of their phones would go off with Santeri’s name on the screen, a passive-aggressive interruption to the soft, low tone of Aleksi’s early-morning thoughts. (Sometimes, when Olli was lucky enough, he had been blessed with the bliss of feeling the light touch of a fingertip tracing along his collarbone, cut short just as frustratingly by their well-meaning tour manager politely enquiring whether the two of them had plans of dragging themselves downstairs for some toast and coffee, or if they’d rather starve until lunchtime, for which he wasn’t at all sure they’d even have time that day.)

The lovesick idiot that he was, his thumb hovered over the ‘play’ button of Aleksi’s voice message, probably for the millionth time that week. The chest-carving hesitation turned into a heart flip when he noticed Aleksi was online.

Then Aleksi began to type, and Olli held his breath the entire time until a new message appeared in the thread, anticipation holding him by his throat.

You awake?

Olli exhaled and typed his affirmative reply, leaving out the reason why.

He blinked at the screen, waiting for Aleksi to ask him a random question that clearly couldn’t wait until morning, or perhaps talk about something related to another late-night Twitch stream (from what Olli had gathered, Aleksi had been doing a lot of those recently, and with his last remaining braincell Olli had managed to resist the temptation to watch every single one of them, because he knew that if he did, it would only dig his grave of pining and longing deeper, seeing Aleksi smile and giggle about but not being able to do that with him or snuggle up next to him when he was wearing that flannel Olli often used as a blanket in the tour bus). But instead of another text appearing on the screen, Olli’s phone began to vibrate in his hand, and it took him an embarrassingly long while to understand it was because Aleksi was calling him. 

“Hi,” he sighed when he finally collected himself enough to speak. He prayed he’d be able to hear what Aleksi was going to say from the thumping heartbeat echoing in his ears.

“Hi,” a soft voice said. “Sorry, I know it’s late…”

“No, not at all,” Olli hurried to say, “I mean, I wasn’t sleeping. Not even close, actually.” Part of him hoped Aleksi wouldn’t ask about it, but in some foolhardy way the possibility intrigued him. 

Nothing much, he would have likely said anyway, but what would happen if he told Aleksi how it really was? That he squeezed his pillow imagining it was him instead, or wailed into it because something had reminded him of a moment-that-was-probably-not-a-Moment™ they had shared? What would Aleksi say if he knew Olli sometimes touched himself the way Aleksi had touched him That One Night they never talked about? The only obstacle between Olli and that knowledge was a bottomless ocean of cold sweat and cowardice, and Olli had never been a great swimmer.

“So, ummm…,” Olli said when Aleksi’s end stayed silent. “What’s up?”

A short breath of laughter sounded through the phone line.

“Honestly? I don’t know, I… It’s just been a… weird week, I guess.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, like… my head’s just been so full of… everything and… I’ve been so busy and kinda tense and… fuck, this is going to sound crazy,” Aleksi laughed that brief laugh again, although to Olli it didn’t sound particularly cheerful. Tired, more like. Strained, somehow. Not sad, but definitely a little troubled, and Olli intended to find out why.

“I’m all for crazy, you know.” Olli hoped his sorry attempt to lighten Aleksi’s mood would work, and so he smiled in relief when he heard Aleksi chuckle at his comment.

“I know,” Aleksi said softly, in that tone of voice that had Olli melt against his bedsheets. “So yeah, it’s been a rough week, but… in between all that stupid shit, I’ve been thinking a lot about… umm… well, the tour and– and… about you, for some reason,” (the troubled laugh made its return) “and… yeah. That’s sort of helped me a lot recently.”

Olli listened to the words carefully, not fully believing what he was hearing, yet clinging on to them until they were all but swirling around in his otherwise empty head like dry leaves in October wind.

“And tonight I just couldn’t fucking sleep for some reason and nothing I did seemed to help and so I thought I’d call you. And I’m–” If it hadn’t been dead silent otherwise, Olli wouldn’t have heard the shaky breath Aleksi paused to take, “I’m sorry I’m calling you at this hour and bothering you with this all but I guess I just… wanted to hear your voice. To see if that would help.”

“Does it?” Olli asked. Aleksi’s confession had made him clasp his blanket close to his chest, as if that would do anything about his rapidly beating heart.

“Yeah. It does. So maybe just… keep talking?”

Despite his mind living a life of its own, completely unfit to form a single coherent thought, for Aleksi’s sake Olli tried his best to think of something to say, but everything he came up with was something he was not ready to tell him quite yet. 

“Uuummmm…” he said to buy himself some time, but while he waited for his useless brain and mouth to form any actual words, Aleksi spoke again.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry, this is too weird, I shouldn’t have– I’ll let you go back to–”

“I miss you,” Olli blurted before Aleksi would hang up on him. He squeezed his eyes shut when Aleksi went silent, too silent for too long for it to mean any good.

The line stayed open, however, which Olli took as a positive sign, even if the seconds during which all Olli could hear was Aleksi's quiet breathing seemed endless.

“And I you,” Aleksi finally replied. “A little too much, probably, or at least that’s what it feels like,” he chuckled. Olli almost missed the quiet sniff that followed.

He had to steel himself for his next question.

“What do you mean?”

“Just… forget it.” Aleksi said quietly. Contrary to Aleksi’s request, Olli knew he was going to all but ‘forget it’ for the next 3-5 business days; mentally he booked all his evenings as well as most of his mornings and noons for pondering what exactly had been in Aleksi’s mind in that moment or why he had sounded so sombre, almost disappointed. He’d probably never come to any satisfactory conclusion about it though, at least not without a little help from Aleksi himself. 

A ridiculous idea popped into his head, and before he could stop himself, the words flooded out of his mouth.

“Do you wanna come over some time? To hang out? When your schedule’s a little less tight, I mean.” He sucked on his lips and closed his eyes as he waited for Aleksi’s answer, ready to hang up the moment he’d decline the offer on some obvious and logical reason for why Aleksi couldn’t possibly make nor want to take a trip to the north to see him, such as ‘didn’t we just spend over two months on the road together?’ or ‘damn, buddy, I miss you alright but not quite that much, I’ve done enough sitting in public transportation for one year, thank you very much lol’ or ‘what about Rilla?’

“You could take Rilla with you, you know.” Olli hurried to say, just in case, the deranged part of his brain thinking there might be a chance Aleksi might be at least considering it.

“Oh! Well, umm… I actually might have time next week? If– if you’re actually being serious about this.”

Funny you should ask, Aleksi; I’ve actually never been more serious about anything in my entire life than I am about having you here with me so that I can hold you and be held by you and see your face when I wake up in the morning and say goodnight to your annoyingly cute face instead of via text message and maybe, if the stars are in position and the northern wind won’t discourage me too much, I might actually be brave enough to torment you with the knowledge of just how miserable I’ve been since we last saw each other.

“I think it would be cool,” he said, because he had a feeling what he wanted to say would’ve been a tad too much and sudden. “I mean, if you’re up for it, of course. I understand if you can’t make it though, I know you have all those side projects.”

“No, I think it might actually do me some good to get out of the capital area for change.” Then there was a muffled ‘ouch’, followed by a laugh that sounded much brighter than any of the other ones Olli had heard from Aleksi that night. “Sorry, correction, it might do us some good. Rilla just told me she’s most definitely coming too. Rilla, stop nibbling on my toes!”

Olli smiled tiredly at the mental image that was painted in his mind of Aleksi and Rilla cuddling in bed, both minding their own business from what it seemed while still minding each other as well, very much indeed.

“I’ll be sure to set up a bed for her in the guest room.”

“The guest room? Do you not know her at all? If she’s not getting the master bedroom, she’ll ruin all your rugs and most of your shoes. Probably also gossip about you to all the neighbourhood dogs. And she’s brutal.”

Olli held his stomach as he laughed, tears almost forming in the corners of his eyes. In his defence, it was late and he was finally becoming tired, thus too far gone to help himself, let alone feel embarrassed about being in stitches about something Aleksi had said that was only mildly amusing. (It wasn’t the first time that had happened either, and likely not the last time.)

“So yeah, ummm, I can take a look at some flight options for next week and let you know, alright? I’m gonna let you sleep now and… I should get some myself too.”

Olli wanted to tell Aleksi he’d love to stay up chatting until dawn, but the yawn he let out when he opened his mouth to speak implied Aleksi had a point.

“Yeah, let me know. And… thanks for calling, I… you have no idea how much I needed this tonight.”

That was as close to a confession as Olli was able to get as of now.

“Probably not half as much as I did.”

Olli chuckled at Aleksi’s response, mostly to hide his own agony.

If only you knew. If only I knew how to tell you.

It didn’t take long for Olli to doze off after they hung up, and when he woke up to the kids from next door having a snowball fight under his window in the morning, he noticed new messages from Aleksi, sent half an hour after their phone call had ended, complete with screen captions of airplane schedules.

Would these days work for you? I might be free all week actually 😇

Olli cuddled into his pillow while typing his reply, hoping it wouldn’t wake up Aleksi.

yeah I’m free as well. I’ll pick you two up from the airport 🖤

From then on, Olli started counting the days until he’d see Aleksi again.

[bagerfluff]

Dinner Date With Hand Holding

Older Takaishi Takeru x Male Reader

Prompt - Holding hands

“I swear, if I get one more test I’m going to drop out”, you said.

Takeru let out a little laugh at what you said but he felt the same way. It seemed like every single class you both had to take a test. Maybe that’s just what college is, test after test.

“But you’ve come so far”, Takeru said though he knew that you weren’t going to drop out.

You sighed and leaned back, “At least I get to hang out with you”, you said.

Takeru was happy about that too.

You both have been busy so when you both got a free day you both took as an opportunity to go out on a date. Since it’s been a while since you both had some free time.

So you took Takeru to a noodle shop, now you two were making small talk while waiting for your food. “Me too”, Takeru said. Takeru glanced around the shop again.

Takeru had no idea how you were able to take him to a place like this. There were very few people here and the few who were here were very well dressed.

The place just looked expansive.

With dark red and gold everywhere, a rose in a glass on each table, a candle too.

Takeru remembers looking at the menu, asking you if you were sure you wanted to eat here. You just smiled and said that it was fine.

Takeru wondered if you were secretly a millionaire. The seats were the most comfortable seats Takeru has ever sat in. Takeru could take a nap in these seats, Takeru needed a nap.

You and Takeru were sitting in the back next to a window. That meant the light shined into Takeru’s eyes every once and a while. It was nice, since it was a nice day out.

Maybe you two should have gone on a walk. “You good love?” Takeru looked away from the window and back to you.

Takeru hadn’t realized that he had zoned out, or that you were looking at him.

“I’m fine, just thinking” “about testing?” Takeru rolled his eyes at you. Takeru looked back out the window, watching people walk by.

“Don’t zone out on me again”, you said while waving your hand in front of Takeru’s face.

Takeru swatted your hand away and looked back at you. “Want me to look at you instead”, Takeru teased.

“Yes, since I am your boyfriend you should be enamored by me and my handsomeness”, you put a hand to your chest for dramatics.

Takeru rolled his eyes, “you're spending too much time with Daisuke”, Takeru said. You rolled your eyes this time.

You were about to say something when someone came up to you and Takeru with food.

You smiled and almost immediately started eating but Takeru made sure you said thank you.

Once that was over you started eating so fast that Takeru was sure you were going to choke.

“Did you eat breakfast?” Takeru asked, a little appalled at how fast you were eating.

“Yeah, I’m just hungry”, you said. Takeru was surprised that you stopped eating to even talk to him.

Maybe you where spending to much time with Daisuke. Takeru just shook his head and started eating.

The noodles were pretty good, maybe even better than Daisuke’s. But Takeru was never going to tell Daisuke that.

You were done before Takeru, obviously.

You just placed your bowl aside and took a sip of your drink, which you both got before your food. Neither of you touched them though.

Takeru glanced up at you.

You were leaning on your arm staring at Takeru. Takeru’s face got red under your gaze and quickly looked away. But as he looked away he noticed your hand on the table.

It was in between your drink and your empty bowl. Takeru felt his fingers move where it was sitting right next to his bowl.

Takeru wanted to hold your hand, but something was stopping him.

Takeru had no idea what it was, he had held your hand before. Maybe it was because it has only been a few months since you and Takeru started dating.

Though you’ve both been friends for years and you’ve liked each other for longer, you only first asked Takeru out a few months into both of your second year of college.

Maybe it was because you both were in public.

There weren’t a lot of people and Takeru didn’t really care what other people thought. Takeru looked back down at his food.

Takeru, without looking, slowly moved his hand towards yours.

Takeru glanced at your hand though the side of his eye. Takeru’s fingers curled as they got closer to yours.

But Takeru saw you grab his hand and hold it in yours. You laced your fingers with his.

Takeru blushed and looked up to see you still looking at him, with a smile on your face. Takeru smiled at you before going back to eating with food.

With the feeling of you rubbing your thumb over his hand.

[fxtalitygod]

V. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive, longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, themes/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of child murder/adult murder, breastfeeding, pet names (Y/n called Little Flower 2-3x), Implications of child neglect, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies, slight misogynistic themes (if you squint).

Word Count: 4.3k

A/n: I apologize for being so late with this post, a lot is going on right now and I have had a few other writing projects that I have been working on for you guys, but I was finally able to sit down and finish this chapter. Thank you all for being patient with me, it is greatly appreciated. As a friendly reminder, my asks are open if you want to ask me any questions about this story/other works or to talk about hcs, maybe even suggestions, or to be added to the taglist for any of my series, have at it! I'm going to update my navigation soon so that it has a link that can take you to the post where I have my taglist rules. I hope that due to it being summer I will be able to post more consistently, hopefully, every Sunday if possible. For now, my upload schedule will be a bit inconsistent until I figure out some kinks. Thank you for sticking around and enjoy Part 5 of Survival!

Fun Fact: I stayed up to watch the Lunar Eclipse while writing part of this chapter, it was quite awesome!

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules•

• Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt.III • Pt.IV • Pt. V • Pt.VI

For the first time in a long time, you felt normal. Those few hours you spent with your two little infants were the best moments out of the time you had spent at the temple. It was quiet, with no one there to disrupt your peace, not even Sukuna himself, it was just you and your children.

Yes, your attendant would walk in every once in a while, most likely on Sukuna’s orders, but she always made her visits quiet and short. She would leave you food and water to make sure you were well-nourished — you appreciated that because you knew if she hadn’t, you would’ve forgotten to eat or drink anything, too lost in admiring your children.

Sadly, it wouldn’t be this way forever, as soon as your twins were old enough to not need the nourishment from your breasts, you would go back to the normal routine around the temple; however, there would be small exceptions to watching and raising your children. Despite knowing these future events, you would enjoy the time you had with your babies.

Taking a deep breath, a long sigh following, you enjoyed the tranquility of the room. You wished this setting would last forever, but knew that it wouldn’t; however, you didn’t expect it to be disrupted this soon as an unexpected visitor made themself present.

“Had a good rest, Little Flower?”

As much as you hated that familiar teasing tone, you paid no mind to it as you didn’t want the presence of Sukuna to damper your mood. You gave a simple response, not bothering to make eye contact as you were too enamored with your twins to give him any attention.

“Not feeling very talkative today are we, Little Flower? It’s almost as if you are distracted by something or rather someone?”

Feeling a shift in bedding, you could tell that Sukuna was now leaning beside you, staring you down as you paid him no mind. You knew that this was a risky move of yours, but you would be damned if you were to miss a second of time with your children due to the likes of the twisted, two-faced man beside you.

It stayed silent for a couple minutes.

At first, you thought Sukuna had gotten the hint and would decide to leave you alone, but you should have known better. The man took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to face him; however, he was still gentle in this action, making sure to not harm you as he forced you to make eye contact.

“I apologize, I do not know what to say with such an unexpected visit,” you responded after a couple seconds of staring into his eyes.

Sukuna was only able to smirk before letting go of your face, allowing you to bring your focus back onto the infants that were curled up against your chest, trying to achieve warmth from your body.

“That seems like a valid answer, for now,” Sukuna started, pausing to examine the twins before turning his attention back to you, “Answer me this, did you know a young maiden in your village who was a seamstress? She was a couple years younger than you and I believe she would’ve been a neighbor and a close family friend of yours.”

You were a little confused by his question, but took some time to think about his description. You ransacked your mind trying to match someone to the details he had given you about this person until it finally hit you.

Your mind went back to your “wedding day” and the girl that was helping you into your ceremonial robes. You remembered that girl well, she was sixteen at the time and was practically glued to your side whenever you made your presence known around her. The same naive girl who believed a marriage with Sukuna was more of an achievement rather than a punishment.

“I do recall her, why?” you simply asked.

“She wouldn’t stop talking about you, at least for the first few minutes after the ceremony; however she had no trouble pushing the thought of you aside after I told her you were due to go into labor soon, she actually went silent for a few minutes before she started to blabber on how she would be a great wife.”

You were confused, what was he trying to prove with this story? You pondered on it, trying to think up an answer, but nothing was coming up. Why was Sukuna bringing this up now? Was he trying to stir a reaction out of you per usual? Was he trying to threaten you?

Questions kept flooding your mind until an answer finally hit you.

“It was a shame I had to kill her, she made a pretty convincing commitment about being a good wife, but her jealousy felt more of a threat towards our future heirs and if I were being honest she was getting on my nerves.”

He killed her.

The night when you went into labor, that piercing scream you heard was her. The blood that tainted Sukuna’s robes that night was her’s. You felt so on edge that night because she, the girl who practically saw you as her older sister had been murdered on her wedding night, and a part of you couldn’t help but feel like it was your fault.

Before you had the chance to snap at Sukuna for what he had done, a tanto blade appeared in front of your face.

“I noticed her slip this into her hand the moment I told her you were pregnant.”

You were quick to flick the blade away as to keep it away from your twins, worried the blade would cut them, but that wasn’t the only reason you were quick to dispose of it. A part of you didn’t want to believe that the girl you had grown up with wanted to harm you out of jealousy; moreover, you didn’t want to believe that the girl had been completely blindsided by the rumors going around the village, so much so that she lost all rationality.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“To warn you,” Sukuna quickly responded, “from this point on, you will be looked down upon in your village, maybe even your own family. From here on out everyone is out to kill you and our children…”

You looked down at your children as they began to cry, grabbing at you as they began to squirm. You tried to calm them down, but nothing was working. You attempted to adjust yourself, but something caught your eye.

There was blood on your hand.

You checked for any open wounds on your body, even inspecting your hand twice to make sure you hadn’t cut yourself with the tanto blade from earlier, but nothing; however, when you turned to examine your children, you noticed cuts and small slices littering their bodies. Out of panic, you looked over to where the blade should have landed but found nothing. You turned to look at Sukuna to see if he had grabbed it only to discover that he wasn’t there.

She was standing in his place, blade held above her head, ready to strike it down onto you and your children. Your eyes were wide in fear. You wanted to say anything but no words came out of your mouth when you went to speak some sense into her. You could only stare into her crazed eyes with fear, even when a hand made its way onto your shoulder a figure leaning in to whisper into your ear.

“Everyone is out to take what is ours Y/n.”

You gasped as you opened your eyes, sitting up immediately as you breathed heavily, trying to recover from your nightmare; however, it didn’t take long to check on your infants. You were so shaken up you examined them more times than you could count, making sure they were unscratched.

“Y/n-sama, are you alright?” your attendant asked, clearly concerned about your current state of shock.

It took you a few seconds to calm down before responding to her, giving her a simple yes so as to not give her any reason to call for someone. Now some may believe it would’ve been best for you to confide in her, but a part of you worried your children would be taken away from you.

Your attendant looked a little hesitant, clearly wanting to ask you more to make sure you were alright, but she could tell that you weren’t necessarily in the mood to talk as you had already gone in for another round of inspecting your children. She was only able to observe from afar, afraid that if she were to overstep her boundaries she would spark an adverse reaction. She decided to wait for the right time to approach you, and not necessarily question you but to at least be able to talk with you without causing you any sort of distress.

It took you a few minutes to settle down, finally feeling comfortable enough to relax, leaning back to allow a slight breather. Your attendant approached you cautiously, bringing you something to eat and drink since it had been a while since you had done so.

“Is there anything I can do for you Y/n-sama?” she asked carefully.

You only shook your head, giving her a soft smile to reassure her everything was alright. The gesture seemed to bring her a little relief as she smiled back, bowing before making her leave.

The second those doors closed, you allowed your mind to run wild. You thought back to your nightmare, still feeling distressed from the whole situation. You had no idea why you had such a horrific nightmare despite being nothing but happy these past few days, spending what quality time you could with your newborns. You were finally starting to feel a bit of normality, so why now?

You tried to convince yourself that the nightmare was another part of the exhaustion post-labor, but you knew it was not that. You tried pushing it out of your mind, you tried to forget it happened and deem it as nothing more than a nightmare, but some part of you wouldn’t allow yourself to provide that sort of relief. It invaded your mind for a solid hour until something clicked in your mind.

“Everyone is out to take what is ours, Y/n.”

Those words echoed in your head. Those words were telling you something, quite literally, about your current predicament. Those words weren’t Sukuna’s, they were yours, and you were giving yourself a warning.

If you were to somehow escape and run back to your village you would be welcomed with open arms, but your children would not, they would be taken from you and slaughtered at the elder’s command as a way to threaten the almighty, Ryomen Sukuna. Even if you tried to convince them, they wouldn’t even listen to you. They would only believe you were simply manipulated by Sukuna, nothing more.

Your children weren’t exactly safe in the temple either. There was competition among the small families in the temple. In order to impress Sukuna and to gain power among the other wives, mothers would raise their children to be the most compatible heir, even if they had to eliminate some of the competition. It is an actual survival of the fittest situation, if you aren’t careful enough and not quick enough to catch on to your possible assassin, you would wake up to find a corpse in the crib. Knowing that some of the wives already resented you, you knew your children would become subject to the one-sided rivalry.

At this point in time, you couldn’t trust anybody because no matter where you took your children there would be a knife at their neck.

Everyone was truly out to take what was yours, so you had to protect it or rather them, no matter what the cost.

You were taken out of your thoughts by the sound of the door, your attendant making her presence known. As soon as the door closed she approached you, a tea set in hand. Before she made it to your side she stopped in her footsteps, staring at something that was seemingly next to you. You turned your head to see what she was looking at only to see the previous meal she had left you earlier today.

“Y/n-sama, are you alright you haven’t touched your food from this morning, should I retrieve the doctor?” She asked, already turning on her heel to approach the door.

“No!”

Shocked and a little scared your attendant froze in her place. She stayed motionless for about a minute, fearing that she would upset you if she dared move.

You cleared your throat before the girl could get suspicious and spoke up once more.

“I apologize for my outburst, let me explain. No, I do not need the assistance of the doctor.”

“B-but Y/n-sama, I think it would be best to-”

“There is no need for the doctor, I’m perfectly fine, I simply was not hungry this morning,” you interrupted.

The girl only nodded hesitantly before making the rest of the way over to place the tea set down. She moved over the previous set before placing the current one down, pouring a cup, and handing it to you. However, she paused once more noticing your hands were full.

“Y/n-sama, I do not mean to intrude, but I believe it would be easier for you to eat if I held the twins for you,” she explained, slightly reaching over to take one of the babies.

Impulsively, you brought the twins closer to your chest, causing your attendant to pull her hands back a little. It could have been paranoia from your nightmare or the realization you had a little while ago, but you did not feel comfortable with giving your little blessings to her; however, you didn’t have much of a choice, unless you wanted to get a surprise visit from the doctor, who would most likely remove the twins from your care for a while to perform a check-up. If your children were to be removed from your care, they wouldn’t be given to your attendant or a wet nurse, but rather one of the wives, and based on your realization from earlier that was definitely not a risk you were willing to take.

Reluctantly, you began to hand over your baby boy first as your attendant reached her arms back out to hold the infant. After a minute of her holding your baby boy, you handed your girl over next. The moment your attendant had both your babies she sat down and began rocking herself back and forth.

A part of you wanted to jump up and take your children back into your arms, but you knew better than to do such an abrupt action. You only stared for a couple minutes before taking a teacup and taking a small sip of the warm beverage.

It did not take you long to finish your meal, quickly setting all the ceramics back onto the tray they were brought with. You did not hesitate to take your newborns back to the warmth of your chest as your attendant handed them back to you. You couldn’t help but smile at the little blessings as they snuggled into you and latched onto your breasts to eat.

As much as you wanted to ponder on your nightmare and your small conspiracy, you thought it best to just enjoy this moment and think about all those worries later. You softly smiled as you gazed at your beautiful twins. You would enjoy these moments of peace with your children before you had to leave the room before you had to deal with the chaos outside those doors.

One hundred, one hundred days went by where it was just you and the twins, and occasionally your attendant who came in to check up on you. You had to admit those one hundred days were the best days of your life, the only thing that could have made it better would have been your family's presence. You would've liked to have stayed in that room a little longer, but you knew that wasn't possible.

You stepped out those doors, properly dressed and slightly unbalanced. All eyes were on you and your twins, and you could not say they were one hundred percent looks of adoration. You have come to learn that during your pregnancy more of the wives had begun to grow more envious of you due to the excessive attention you had started to receive from Sukuna, so much so that he had stopped sleeping with the other wives, this being one of the reasons you would try to keep your distance from them.

"Y/n-sama, you have been requested to make your way over to Sukuna-sama's chambers. Internally sighing, you were only able to nod and advanced to the room with a slight wobble with each step, your attendant being quick to assist you before you could fall over. As you proceeded towards Sukuna's chambers, you couldn’t help but hear the whispers of gossip, no different from the day you arrived. Not all the hushed words were of ill intent, some even admiring you, but most of them held jealousy and threats.

These women were only validating your fears. You have entered the survival game, and you had to play it cautiously. No matter where you turned there would be a blade held to your neck, and not just yours but your children’s as well. Their eyes were on you, tracking your every move, trying to predict your actions so they could plot against you and your twins.

You were the prey and they were the predator.

Before you could grow even more paranoid, you were pulled into Sukuna’s quarters by your attendant. You hadn’t been in this room for one hundred days, and being in it now made you wish you could stay out of it for one hundred more. Unfortunately, that was not possible.

You watched as your attendant gave you a soft smile before making her exit, leaving the door open. You looked around the room, familiarizing yourself with the atmosphere. Nothing much had changed except for the bedding, but you just assumed that was a personal touch from one of the wives due to your absence.

Despite the small change not being that big of a deal, something about it made you feel off. You approached the bed, now noticing there was a lump in it as if someone was sleeping there, but the shape of the lump made it too small to be Sukuna. Before you could pull the sheets back, the door shut close.

“Snooping around once more, aren’t we, Little Flower,” came a sudden voice from behind you.

You jumped back slightly, holding your babies to your chest. You watched as he walked out from behind the door. Had he been there the entire time? Why was he waiting there? Questions flooded your mind as you began to worry for the safety of your children.

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to push m-” a hand covered your mouth before you could finish your statement.

“You don’t need to explain yourself; After all, you didn’t do anything wrong, she did.”

Before you could ask him what he was talking about, he pulled the bedding back to reveal a gruesome sight- a mutilated female’s body. You were quick to cover your children from the gory scene.

“Do you recognize it?” Sukuna asked with a slight bite to his tone.

What you thought had just been a nightmare was now a reality. There laid the corpse of the seamstress, the girl that admired you. Her body was disfigured, but the look of horror was still visibly etched on her face.

You could hardly stomach the sight, slightly turning your head so as to not look at the body. The twins had their heads’ buried in your chest, keeping them from viewing the scene before them. Why would he show this to you? Why would he do it now?

“Why?” You asked weakly, trying to keep the bile from climbing up your throat.

“So you do recognize her?”

You only nodded, afraid that if you opened your mouth you would regurgitate what you had eaten earlier.

“I believe that your village elders sent her out to kill you or rather what was growing inside you at the time,” the man paused looking to see your reaction to the news, “As much as I would like to kill those bastards, I have no legitimate proof, so for now they remain untouched.”

“Unless you want to do something about it.”

Your exterior seemed rather calm, but on the inside, you were fuming. Those old cowards had sent you out here to conceive children, and now they were sending people out to kill them; moreover, they had sent someone they knew was close to you to do the deed.

You couldn’t tell if it was your new motherly instincts that were making you think this way, but you wanted them to hurt like you had hurt. To see them burn and scream at your mercy would have been a delightful sight to see. At this point, Sukuna’s offer had become very tempting, but you didn’t want to stoop down to their level, to his level even.

“No,” you simply said, now looking at the body with little to no emotion, too infuriated with the recent news.

You could only hear a slight chuckle from Sukuna before he covered the body, a few staff members making their way in, taking the corpse.

Although you weren’t dismissed, you could tell Sukuna had said what he needed to say, so you turned on your heel to make your exit. Before you could walk out the door you felt a hand on your waist, effectively stopping you. You only stood there, not bothering to move another inch. You were too infuriated to be scared.

He didn’t say anything, he just held you in place as he walked up from behind. You felt his breath on the back of your neck as he leaned over your shoulder, bringing his hand around to place his palm on your daughter’s cheek, tilting her head up slightly so he could get a better look at her. It did not take him long to do the same to your son, only spending a few seconds longer to admire the infant.

You thought he was done when he pulled back, but he surprised you once more when he pulled your hair away from your neck. A poke at your head alerted you that Sukuna had placed something in your hair. Hands were placed upon your waist not too long after, turning once you around so the four-armed man could get a look at you.

There was some sort of intensity in Sukuna’s eyes. At the beginning you couldn’t understand why, but when you looked into the reflection in his eyes you got your answer. There was an object sticking out of your hair and you had a feeling you knew exactly what it was.

The kanzashi pin.

“It suits you,” Sukuna blurted out, a strange look on his face, a look you couldn’t decipher.

“Use it well, Little Flower, you will need it,” The man stated before grabbing your jaw and kissing you, allowing you to leave after.

The kiss was abnormally softer than normal, it still was still violating in a way, but it didn’t feel as uncomfortable. Sukuna’s strange behavior was throwing you off balance. There could’ve been many factors that were affecting his behavior whether it be the silent battle he was having with the elders, the recent birth of the twins, or the fact that he was touch starved.

You pushed the thoughts out of your mind as you left the room and made your way to the garden, wanting to familiarize your children with the area and atmosphere as they would spend most of their childhood there. The garden was where most mothers stayed with their children during their infancy to watch over them. Although it was a place for infants, there were still a lot of mothers who brought their older kids there, sometimes to do chores or to give their children a place to train.

The moment you entered the garden, all eyes were on you or rather the kanzashi pin that was placed in your hair. You could see some of the scowls and harsh glares, and you should’ve been scared, but you weren’t. Some might’ve thought that the kanzashi pin made you a bigger target, but you didn’t see it that way. The pin would show that you were now the top dog and that if anyone tried to lay a hand on you, they would suffer the repercussions.

You walked through that garden, your head held high and your back straight. It didn’t take you long to settle into an empty spot in the feild, a few of your acquaintances joining you as they cooed at the sight of your twins.

You were making a risky move in this game of survival by being so bold, but you believed that if you pulled this card at any other time, you would already be dead. You weren’t in this game to play it safe, you were here to win, and if that meant you would have to play cautiously or to make some questionable decisions, you would. If you weren’t winning for yourself, you were winning for your babies.

You were going to win for your family because you made a promise, an everlasting oath — you weren’t going to break it anytime soon.

@littlemochi @mistalli @youngbeansprout @bbylime @bangtan-forever1479 @idktbhloley @izayas-rings @o3o-aya @pyschopotatomeme @persephonehemingway @otomaniac

[mxvladdy]

HI I LOVE YOUR WRITING! aaa sO I don't know if you still accept prompts but if you do could you do one with MC being fascinated by the brothers' demon forms and seeing the brothers react to them carefully inspecting their horns/wings/tails??

AHHHHH I love that you love it! And of course! :) Horns are my weak spot lmao. Hope you like!

Lucifer

Hmph. Isn’t ecstatic about you wanting to nose around in his business at first. No matter how touched starved he is, just the thought of your tiny human fingers exploring him…Well on the other hand-

At first, he thought you had some weird fetish for his demonic form. Wouldn’t be the first time a human had. But slowly he realizes you are genuinely just enamored with him. It strokes his ego sky high.

He loves it when you stroke and pet his horns. The bases of which are super sensitive. The amount of time you have spent just looking at the gold-tipped bone, he is certain you probably have memorized the number of chips and notches in them.

You start bringing ornaments and tassels for his horns. Things you made or found pretty when out shopping. He doesn’t wear them in public but likes it when you put them on him in private.

It takes him longer to let you get your hands on his wings though. Looking at the mess of his back isn’t pleasant for him.

He has a dust bath. He loves dusting, and when you help him. Ugh-it’s like his own little paradise.

He teaches you how to preen and find broken feathers to pluck. Your cooing over his soft feathers just makes him fluff up more.

He shows off his horns and wings just a touch more in public now.

Mammon

Hells yeah you can see his demon form. Why wouldn’t you want to? He is absolutely delighted to have you lovin’ all over him. He’s big on scenting.

He is especially proud of his wings, in all his forms. Leathery or feathery, they are his favorite part of his body. They are strong, reliable, and fast if he needs to protect you.

He makes sure you are extra careful about his horns though. The spirling columns of bone aren’t smooth like Lucifer’s and have a wicked sharp point on the tips. His horns grow a lot faster than his brothers. A lot of his horn upkeep is him shaving them down and oiling them.

You take delight in doing that for him. The keratin of his horns flakes quickly so you like to help with that too.

He doesn’t have much feeling around his horn area so you won’t get too many reactions from him. Now his wings~

He gets a kick out of watching you open and close his wings. You are mesmerized by his leather wings stretching to their full wingspan.

His wings look fragile upon closer inspection. You can feel the beats of his hearts through the thin membrane stretched over black bones. It almost makes you forget that you’ve seen him bludgeon demons to death with them before.

You’re so enamored with his wings you miss how flustered he gets when you trace your fingers around the base of his wings. Right where the limbs attach to his back. It’s a very tender spot that hurts most times when he touches it, but maybe because it’s you it feels really good.

Leviathan

He is apprehensive to have you inspect him at first.

Doesn’t have wings and is kinda jelly. But he has a bitchin’ tail, and you remind him often of it.

His tail is strong. A lot stronger than you originally thought. You can feel the slide and pull of thick muscle underneath his leathery skin when he swifts around.

It took you a while to get him to understand you are 1000% ok with his tail and horns being out, in public or private.

He notices that you can't keep your eyes and hands off his tail. While he never does it in front of his brothers he loves to pick you up with it. Your giggles and gasps of awe, while you dangle above him in his secure grasp, brings a huge smile to his face.

He has the most strenuous care routine out of all the brothers. His tail sheds a lot and dries out easily. It is usually a very intimate affair. Lucky for you, he likes you.

He shows you how to use his dry brush to sluff off the dead skin from his tail and scaly parts of his back. It's therapeutic to him. He talks about his newest hyper fixation while you brush and pet his tail.

His horns are a bit more persnickety. They are made up of a delicate ecosystem of coral and sea vegetation. It’s a beautiful vivid array of purple, pink, and blues. Henry and schools of smaller fish make little homes in it when Levi is in his tank.

It has to be kept moist and landscaped or it gets overgrown. He has a knack for aquatic horticulture and gives you a chance to learn too.

It naturally changes size and color based on the Devildom seasons. Your favorite displays are during the warmer seasons.

You buy little tank ornaments to decorate his horns to post on devilgram from time to time. It gets so many likes he gets so excited.

He wears your work proudly, even if it’s not up to his usual standard. His water monster brethren are jealous of the attention, and that’s what matters most.

Satan

If you bring up your interest in a scientific or educational manner, he is more willing to share. He has had far too many run-ins with witches and humans vying for him to be comfortable flaunting his demon form.

As the only born devil out of the group you have to be extra careful with his horns and tail. The bony structure of them is like fine sandpaper. Rough, course and far too abrasive for your tinder human skin.

You have to wear gloves when handling his horns and tail. He apologizes a lot about it. It angers him that he is the one brother that has to be so careful around you.

You really don’t mind though. Even through the thick leather gloves you feel the pulsing heat of his magic. You like the tingling feeling of his magic through your gloves, it’s like licking a battery.

He doesn’t need maintenance on his horns and tail as much as the others. But his horns do fall off like deer antlers.

He gets really irritated when it’s shedding season. The itching and throbbing of his horns when they are ready to fall off is maddening.

You always know when it is horn season due to the deep gouges in the stone walls around the house. You help him though this by scratching around the bases of his horns. It feels so good to have it scratched, and it’s 10x better when it’s not him.

Normally he would just dispose of his horns when they fall off or use them for alchemical purposes. Now, he gives some of them to you. You collect them and have turned a few sets into some lovely pieces of art in his opinion.

Asmodeus

Very much like Mammon- who wouldn’t love his horns and wings? He loves them, so obviously everybody should.

Absolutely eats up your praise and curious touches. He shows you the best places to pet or stroke.

His wings are leathery like Mammons but 1000x more sensitive all-round. He can sense air currents with them, so sneaking up on him to touch a wing is out of the question. As much as you would like to.

Loves see you try though. Will fake being surprised when you come at him from behind to lovingly touch a wing.

He shows you the best places to touch and examine his wings and horns. His smaller set of wings have this one spot underneath their pit that is super ticklish. When you find it, exploit it. He has the best laugh.

He admits to you that he dyes his horns. What can he say? Pink is the best color and his horns just look that much more fabulous in it.

You can convince him to try different colors, but only if you help him dye them. Starts matching colors and outfits with you and his horn color of the month.

His cleaning and maintenance routine he likes to do himself. Sorry! Nothing against you, but he is too meticulous to ask for help. But please stay and watch!

He shows off a lot more when cleaning and moisturizing his horns and wings. Stretching them out, or making sure his horns are shiny enough to catch the light of his room.

Absolutely soaks up for enamored gasps and wide eyes stares.

Beelzebub

Just shrugs when you ask to see his wings and horns.

Of course, he doesn't mind you touching them. He just finds it odd. Kinda forgot that it's not a normal occurrence in the human realm.

He has no issues with you touching or rubbing on his horns. He doesn't have any feeling in them anyway.

But, unfortunately, you can only look at his wings. The cuticle is very fragile so he can't just flare his wings out whenever he feels like the others.

You find the hard casing that protects his wings just as fascinating though. The iridescent sheen of it is mesmerizing. Your eyes can't pick up all the colors that it gleams, but it's still beautiful regardless.

You have a hard time getting any of the shell bits when they shed. Beel normally eats them and he is much faster than you.

But he will temper himself and save a few for you once he figures out why you are pouting.

His paper-thin shell casing resembles stained glass when you hold it up to the light. You have taken to making a large wind chime out of the shedding of the brother's horns and wings. His chitin is the perfect addition to give the slightly macabre piece some color.

He-and the other brothers find it kinda odd that you collect essentially garbage to them, but they chalk it up to a weird human quirk.

If it makes you happy-*shrugs*

Belphegor

Like his twin, doesn’t get the hype around it. But, if it means you’ll be spending more time with him then he won’t complain.

You pet his tail a lot when he is sleeping. His tail is soft and fluffy. It wraps around you while he slumbers, locking you in place by his side.

He wakes you up by tickling your nose with the tuft of his tail. He teases you when it makes you sneeze.

If you thought his bedhead was bad, wait till you see him struggling with the tangles at the tip of his tail.

You offer to help comb it out. Maybe even convince him to invest in a good bottle of conditioner. He takes you along to buy it and lets you choose the scent.

He has a penchant for cucumber and melon scents when it comes to his detergent and pillow sprays so you keep to that realm.

He cannot express how much he doesn’t care about upkeep so if you want to brush his tail and examine his horns go to town, means he doesn’t have to do it.

Belphie gets addicted quickly to you doting on his form. He sleeps harder and better after a session with you brushing his tail or rubbing at his horns.

You’ve learned just how to massage his scalp and where to scratch around his horns to help him fall asleep. He doesn't realize he does it himself as a self-soothing mechanism until you bring it up one night.

When you hit the sweet spots at the base of his tail or horns he can’t control the twitching and movements of his tail.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Draw your swords, pt. 8

Summary: Forced to face their feelings, neither the Darkling nor his wife dare to speak them out loud. Influenced by Genya’s words, Y/N starts to wonder about her husband’s past.

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of alcohol, sexual content

Part one // Part two // Part three // Part four // Part five // Part six // Part seven  

=================================

As a young girl, Y/N often daydreamed about her first time. She believed it would be with a kind man who’d move mountains to find her if she called his name. Reality was quite different – this man wasn’t kind, but he’d burn the world for her.

Whether he realized it, she saw through him easily. The Darkling is a symbol, the fear surrounding his name is all for show because he’s not evil. In fact, she’d go as far as say he’s redeemable. Anyone capable of love is capable of being saved and while she didn’t know what he needed saving from, her heart told her he’ll need her. And she knew he cared, she felt it in the way he held her in that tent, and again in the way he’d touch her when he had all the power just the night before.

Moving her head toward the other side of the bed, Y/N looked at her sleeping husband. His lashes are long, thick and dark, a beard that tickled her neck adorning his face. Asleep, his cheekbones were not as sharp, his face much more welcoming and relaxed. He didn’t seem as the formidable foe she imagined him to be.

Aleksander laid on his side, facing her. Pursing her lips, Y/N allowed her eyes to roam over him. His broad chest had a small area of dark, curling hair. His muscles are made large, shapely mounds. His arms are capped by a round, firm muscle. Biting her lower lip, her eyes continued down to his hard, flat stomach with faint lines forming separate areas of muscles, making her swallow thickly. It was only after a moment that her eyes went lower. What she saw did not seem so powerful as it felt the previous night, but as she watched, his manhood began to grow.

She gasped and her eyes flew back to his. He was awake, watching her intently with a smirk, his eyes growing darker by the moment. No longer was he the gentle man she had awakened to, but a man of passion, the general who showed her he was just as capable of leading a woman in the bed as he was of leading an army on the field.

Y/N tried to move away but Aleksander still held her trapped by her hair that strayed on his side, under his back. What was worse, she didn’t even want to fight him. Y/N recalled her plans for him clearly; but this was more than a plan she carelessly implemented. Everything was different now when she had the memory of his body and the pleasure he infused her with when he made love to her. Could that term even be applied to them, she wondered. Did he see it as making love or simply satisfying his needs?

“Stubborn wife,” he whispered and the tone of his voice made chills run along her arms. It’s more than the tone he used or the look of his dark eyes that had her insides turning, but the words he had spoken…it almost felt like a term of endearment coming from him.

Grimacing, she rolled her eyes at him, “Dreadful husband.”

Pursing his lips, he seemed amused rather than insulted.

She was right, their relationship has changed.

Irrevocably.

Last night she had thought she learned all there was to know about love between a man and a woman, but now she thought, perhaps she knew very, very little. There was much more to learn from this man and of this man and how to use that knowledge for her own gain, but right now? She just wanted to let herself go. She wanted to enjoy his company. For once, he was good-natured, playful even. She felt genuinely happy in their little bubble.

For a moment, Y/N wished to stay there. She wished he could always look at her as he is now.

She looked at him, his hair still a mess in the bright morning sunlight. She watched him intently, perplexed how he could look more handsome and more human than she’d ever seen him.

His eyes are nearly black as he pulls her to him again. He runs his tongue along her lips, touching the inner corners especially. She parted her teeth for him, desperate for a taste of him. He’s better than the richest honey; hot and cold, soft and firm. She explored his mouth as he had explored hers, no longer shy or reserved with him. How could she be when his fingers have delved lower, pushing inside her?

Gasping, she smiles against his lips. “Genya will be here soon”, she warns him.

"I don't fucking care", he insisted as he crashed into her, his arms wrapping around her like a cage she never wished to escape from. He brought his mouth on hers, inhaling her, "Do you even know what it feels like to be around you?! I can't", he paused as his arms drew away from her and she shuddered as he took the warmth they provided. With bruised lips, she watched as he ran his hand through what used to be perfectly tousled hair. Disheveled, he turns to her, "I can't breathe around you."

She chuckles at him, "Well, I am breathtakingly beautiful."

Rolling his eyes, the Darkling shakes his head, "Well, you're not unattractive. I'll concede on that."

She ran her hands over his back as he lowered his head to her neck, running his tongue along the pulsating beat of her carotid, the only friend he had in her – her pulse couldn’t hide how enamored or exhilarated he made her feel. Instinctively she leaned her head back, her breathing turning deeper, quicker.

When his lips and tongue touched her breasts, she nearly cried out. She thought perhaps she might die under such torture. Trying to pull his head back to her mouth failed as he gave a deep, guttural laugh that made her shiver, her insides turning with the sweet melody and her heart? Her heart felt warm, big and incredibly full.

Maybe he did own her.

A knock on the door had interrupted their bliss as Y/N stiffened, looking at the door in slight panic. If someone saw them right now, no one would doubt their marriage was a successful love match. They seemed happy, truly in love. That’s not how it was meant to be.

“Someone doesn’t value their life”, he grumbled under his breath. “GO AWAY!”

Clasping a hand over his mouth, she chuckled. “Who is it?!”

“General?” Ivan’s voice faded her smile instantly.

Even with Aleksander’s hands cupping her bottom, his body covering her and the door being shut, Y/N felt ashamed as if she was bare in front of the entire world.

“Unless the world is burning, leave me alone!” Pecking Y/N’s lips, he smirked, “I never get a peaceful morning anymore.”

Come to think of it, Y/N never found him in the bed when she woke up. This was the very first night they spent together and he stayed by her side. Considerate was never a word she’d use describing him before, but he is considerate, kind and incredibly cautious when it comes to her. It made her heart sink.

Hearing no word from Ivan, Aleksander’s hand moved. Caressing the inside of her thighs, he made her shake in desire. Holding her breath, she bit her lower lip. Still sore from the night before, she felt her stomach twist as he lined himself up with her entrance once more. Pushing himself inside, he captures her lips as she cries out. The pleasure is undeniable, but she couldn’t deny there was pain too. She clutched at him, her legs pressing around his waist as she rose to meet each thrust. Sweet torment he had inflicted felt as if it would split her in two - one Y/N to plot his demise and the other who’d never let him leave her bed.

Finally, when she was sure her heart would explode, she felt the pulsing throbs that released her and soon after, Y/N felt him speed up and his own release followed. Collapsing on top of her, Aleksander held her so close that she could hardly breathe. In that moment she didn’t really care if she ever did breathe again.

Aleksander didn’t move, still buried deep inside her as if she is his saving grace. It’s insane to think he could fuck her into submission and feelings. It was impossible to ignore the fact that she developed feelings for him, but that realization created doubts. Eventually, something will have to break – and the thought of hurting him suddenly felt too much to bear.

“Are you alright?” He moved her hair out of her face, remaining on top of her as if she’s a conquered territory he refused to leave.

Swallowing thickly, she nods. “Why aren’t you moving?”

Eyes widening, the Darkling felt heat rush to his face. He was trying to be sweet, to show her it was more than a quick fuck. It was indescribable for him – a dawn after a long night he’s lived in. No woman ever lessened the loneliness inside his heart and then she waltzed into his life. He couldn’t imagine living without her again. She was the northern star in his dark sky and he never wanted to leave.

“I should see Ivan about earlier”, he murmured, nearly wincing as he pulled out. She wrapped herself up in the sheets again, her eyes wide as she stared ahead, thinking about how badly she’s already failing her mission.

Frowning as she shifted, Y/N felt Aleksander’s semen leave her. She cleared her throat, her eyes watering. She felt disgusted with herself, like she needed her skin rubbed off with scalding hot water and peeled off if that didn’t work. She could feel him, smell him on every inch of her skin and the worst of it all? She loathed just how cold she felt when his arms weren’t wrapped around her. She absolutely detested how giddy her heart felt when she saw the shit-eating grin on his face as he brought her to climax.

“When will we visit the armies by the fold?” She asked, switching into the woman she is instead of the woman she’s molded into by his lips.

Impassive, he looked back at her as he worked on the buttons of his shirt. “Why? Don’t believe I’ve kept my word?”

It unnerved her just how cold his voice felt, how impersonal. Standing, she wrapped the nightgown around her body. Taking his kefta in her hands, she held it open for him to slip into.

His eyes flicker from the kefta to her, as if he’s confused as well. It felt odd not knowing their place now. Their previous dynamic was easy to settle into, bickering felt like second nature. Conversing without spewing venom brought unfamiliar discomfort mostly because they’d much rather return to the bed behind them. Leaving that room carried an unspoken possibility of their time together being nothing but a fluke – a onetime deal. The outside world carries responsibilities, the kind that places them on opposite sides of the war.

“Thank you”, he turns around, allowing her to help dress him. Wives do that, he realized. Loving wives help their husbands dress just as often as they help them undress. Husbands do the same for their wives – though he much preferred the undressing part.

He kissed her brow unexpectedly, eyes flickering to her trembling lips as they passed a surprised gasp. “I know you want to see the results on a field, but rest assured I’ve kept my word.” Licking his lips, he reached for a glass from behind her. Pouring himself a glass, he watched her gnaw on her lower lip. For once, the ice queen showed there are emotions inside her capable of more than just disdain.

Breaking out of her daze, she cleared her throat. “I prefer to have confirmation”, she remarked.

Snorting, he looks up in frustration. He wanted to grab her by the throat as he would with any other human who’d dare challenge him, question him. In his mind, he pinned her to the bed, his hands wrapped around her delicate little wrists. ‘Don’t play games with me’, he’d say, ‘Don’t ever think you’re capable of that.’ He wanted so badly to treat her the same, as an enemy, but she had done something to him. No matter how hard he wished he could fight it, something inside him came to life – his heart beats unburdened by the shadows, for her. It was always going to be her.

“I guess I’m asking you to trust me”, he looked at her with a softness he visibly struggled with. His hand griped the glass far too tightly for it to fool her. He was hurt by her insinuation and she didn’t know how to respond.

“Aleksander.” Calling him by his first name for the first time felt so natural, but terrifying as his eyes lit up when it crossed her lips.

He shuddered. “Say it again”, he commanded, his eyes darkened as he pressed his lips together.

The look on her face would surely haunt him for an eternity. She was shocked, maybe even frightened. She didn’t mean to call him by his name, she had made a mistake and he could read it on her face.

She spun, fleeing into the bathroom. She ran from him like he had come to steal her soul. He thought about chasing after her, but it would be futile. She would return on her own. She lost the game, she was his. He swallowed his whisky and smiled. Perhaps the way his heart fluttered at the sound of his true name passing her lips should have been a sign he lost the game too, but he didn’t give it a second thought.

She is his.

Once he left, she did exactly as she wished – she scrubbed herself clean of any remainders of him. He’ll walk around with her scent clinging to him, but she will not be branded his. Though her hips bear his markings, she felt satisfied they were easily covered with a kefta.

“You don’t have to say it”, Genya raised an eyebrow at the shadows of Kirigan’s fingertips across her friend’s hips.

“Say what?” Y/N narrowed her eyes, her heart picking up pace.

Smirking, Genya lowered her voice, “You enjoyed it, didn’t you?”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N, exhaled audibly through her nose. “It wasn’t terrible.”

“Ha!” Genya clapped her hands, “We are winning today!”

Raising her eyebrows, Y/N turned her undivided attention to an overly excited Genya. “Care to explain?”

“Well”, she shrugged innocently, “I may have found us a new ally.”

Stunned, Y/N sat on the edge of the bathtub. “Who?”

“David”, Genya exclaimed.

“Isn’t he Kirigan’s little…pet?”

Knitting her eyebrows, Genya huffed, “No! He’s a brilliant man and he believes in equality and a brighter future.”

“But can we trust him with the secret?”

Swallowing thickly, Genya paused. Inhaling deeply, she nods. “I’d vouch for him.”

“I need concrete proof”, Y/N sighs, “This isn’t going to end well for us if he decides to spill everything to Kirigan!”

Rubbing her temples, Y/N felt as if the pressure inside her head would cause her brain to burst. It’s pressing in, choking every good idea she’s ever had.

“What would happen if he did know?” Genya crouched before her. With her hands on Y/N’s knees, Genya sighed. “Maybe he’d be receptive too.”

Snorting, Y/N couldn’t believe how naïve Genya is. “No. He’d be too angry to see the big picture.”

It didn’t matter that he’s begun colonizing Y/N’s heart or that every inch of her skin craved the touch of his hand. It felt as if she were invincible when he stood beside her, as if he had made her fireproof. No scar hurt when he kissed her, no grief was too difficult to bear when he looked at her.

“Damn it”, Y/N covered her face, “I want to believe in him, I do.” She couldn’t help but wonder if her feelings are the aftermath of the night he saved her life or the night of ecstasy he had given her. Is it really genuine emotion or did her heart move to her vagina?

“So believe”, Genya encouraged. A sympathetic smile adorned her full lips, her eyes kinder than before.

“How can I ever trust him when he’s got a superiority complex regarding humans? He’s never going to willingly protect one!”

“He did with you”, Genya pressed her lips into a thin line. “You’re paranoid because you are afraid allowing yourself to see the good in him might actually make you love him.”

And she is. She’s afraid to love him or let him love her. What would be the point? In the end, they’re too different.

“Talk to David again”, Y/N stood, sniffling. “I’ll head to the library.”

Genya raised an eyebrow. “Library?”

The first casualty of war is innocence and Y/N had none left. She was once called ‘angel’ by her father, by her comrades in the army too. She was the epitome of a pure heart who would sacrifice itself for others. She didn’t feel like an angel anymore, but she will play the part. No one expects an angel to set the world on fire.

“Yeah”, Y/N breathes out. “I want to look for something.” Truth be told, she wanted to research Aleksander and his lineage.

If the dark heretic is from his bloodline, she needed to know everything about him, about the hearts of those he came from. If she’s ever going to consider her husband as an ally, she has to know him – all of him. If she asked, she worried he’d cover up the darkest parts of him. He’d deem her too human to understand, too fragile to know all the horrors that tie into who he’s become.

It was time to find out if she could trust Aleksander.

=============================

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Part 9

[rightsockjin]

What You Don't Know

AN:Hi… it’s not Sunday… I’m so sorry y’all.. editing took far too long and it got longer than I was expecting but here is Namjoon’s best friend one shot! It’s very gooey so I hope y’all are in the mood for feels:) forgive me for being late…

Summary: Your long term boyfriend proposed to you and gave you the ultimatum you knew was a long time coming- it was him or your best friend Namjoon. You thought you could let him go. He would be better without you, but as you’re looking into his pretty eyes and there is nothing but pain and regret… you can’t help but wonder what you don’t know.

Rating: M

Genre: as promised- Angst, Fluff that is so fluffy, and very smutty smut:)

Warnings: this is a smut. Light choking, mentions of ankle fetish, mentions of pussy eating, Namjoon is enamored. Slow not so slow sex. Overstimulation. Bruises. They’re so grossly in love guys. Kinda cheating… yeah sorry…

Word count: 9455

——————————————————————————

“ Yesterday… after our date,” you finally sighed, “he walked me home, like I said, and asked me to marry him.”

Did you agree? He knew the answer, but he needed to hear you say it. He needed to hear the words in your voice. You were off limits. You were gone. You were no longer his Y/N. But then again, had you ever been?

“I said yes.”

And just like that, his whole future seemed to implode. No longer did his visions of dates and confessions fit in with his current reality. His hopes for reciprocated feelings and smiles and pampering were dashed. The epic love story he’d written in his head was ripped into pieces and then shredded and then burned. Then the ashes were thrown in acid.

He hadn’t realized he’d tied himself up in you so tightly. Now realizing that you had never seen him in this way, nor had you so much as entertained the future he’d so carefully curated for you both, made him wonder if he’d been blinded by his affections.

“You said yes.” Was all he had to say.

Namjoon wasn’t afraid of emotions. In fact, he encouraged them. He’d cried in front of others on occasion, though he much preferred to keep those instances to a minimum, but he'd never cried in front of you. Somehow, this was much more embarrassing. How was he going to explain to you why he was crying without confessing and seeming like an asshole?

He was grateful that you had had the foresight to do this in private. You always were such a thoughtful person. You were always looking out for everyone before yourself, a quirk that he’d always thought he could help you overcome.

He looked up at you. Your long eyelashes fluttered and your pretty eyes sparkled with emotion. You were picking up on his disappointment, he knew it.

Years ago, when he had first met you, it had been a shock when you would point out how easy it was to read the thoughts going through his head. He’d always thought he hid his emotions well when he wanted to and to have you call him out when he was upset, or hurt or sad had shaken him.

He tried to hide his feelings once again.Tried to feign excitement with a big smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes but when a single tear ran down your soft cheek, he knew it was useless.

“Why are you crying,” he asked, instantly forgetting his own emotional anguish in favor of comforting you.

Again, he knew the answer, but he wanted the confirmation.

He cupped your face in his hands and wiped the steady stream of emotion from your skin. It was bittersweet to be so close to you. In your years of friendship, he’d held you in his arms many a time when men had brought you to your knees. He’d held you to his chest hoping that the next one would be him. The next “mistake” would be his and that he could comfort and apologize to you the way all the other men should have. He wanted to be your dream, the way you were his.

“I don’t know,” You gasped, nearly truthfully. Because there were too many emotions for you to process.

You were engaged and you had said yes because you loved him. Your boyfriend. At least, in the moment, when he was on one knee and he was smiling up at you, you had been sure that this had always been exactly what you wanted. Namjoon hadn’t even crossed your mind unlike the many times that you had inserted him into your dates and convinced yourself that the reason was purely because you admired your best friend and not because you were attracted to him and he would never see you the same way.

But as you sat before him and he held you so tenderly the way he had multiple times before, you were once again reminded how much you truly adored him. You remembered the countless nights you cried yourself to sleep because he never seemed to notice you. All the broken prayers and wishes you had seemingly wasted on something that would never happen came back as well. You remember feeling more than once that maybe, just maybe he felt the same way as you, but then everything was back to normal and he showed his usual platonic affection and comforted you when you were sad. It was then that you knew that your fiancé was right. The only way to truly move on from Namjoon was to let him go. Fully and totally.

And then it became clear. You had to cut him loose no matter how much it hurt you to do so. Namjoon deserved to be happy and it wasn’t fair of you to keep him trapped in a situationship like the one you and him had. It also wasn’t fair to Minhyeok.

You reached up and held onto Namjoon’s wrist, pulling them from your face gently. You place them between you, moving your hands down to hold his long fingers. The cold metal of rings contrasted heavily with the warmth of skin on skin. You glanced down, noticing that virtually the only finger that didn’t have a ring was his left ring finger, then noted that yours too was empty as you had taken off your engagement ring so that you could break the news to him before he figured it out. This would be the last time that finger would be empty on you.

“He seems like a nice guy,” Namjoon said, pulling your attention back to his face after trying hard to figure out a way to broach the now very difficult subject.

“He is,” you agreed shakily, swallowing the ball of emotion choking you.

“I know.”

Namjoon was lying through his teeth. He’d never liked Minhyeok. While he’d started out nice enough, after meeting him, something had snapped in the older man that made him shiver. He’d become controlling. In fact, he was surprised that you were at his apartment at that exact moment. The last time you had come over and stayed was before your relationship had become official. Something like a year and a half ago.

He enclosed your trembling fingers in his, hoping that he could provide some sense of grounding. The last thing he wanted was for you to have a panic attack. Not after the last one had almost led you to a car accident. He resolved then that no matter what you said next, he would take it and wish you nothing but happiness. He didn’t want you to be scared of making the right choices for you at his expense.

You took a deep breath. The darkness in his living room seemed to press into you and you wondered if you should turn on one of his lamps before you spoke or if your brain gave you this idea just to stall the inevitable. As if reading your mind, Namjoon turned on the lamp on one of his side tables and gestured for you to do the same to the one one your side of the couch.

You were wrong, the light made it worse. Now you could see the redness in his earth toned eyes and the fear that hid in plain sight. It also let you see how handsome he was, as if you needed reminding. The lights made the shadows define his features even further. This was just a reminder of what you could never have.

You took a gulp of air, then forced yourself to meet his eyes. He deserved a decent goodbye. A proper one.

“Namjoon I-” but what was to follow those words?

I can’t see you anymore? We can’t be friends from now on? Minhyeok doesn’t think it would be a good idea to see each other anymore?

None of those options felt right. There was a burning desire to follow those words with the real truth, the real reason you could no longer see him.

Namjoon, I’m in love with you.

But what good would that do at this point? He didn’t feel the same way and even if by some miracle he did, it was too late.

“Y/N,” he began, seeing as you didn’t have any intentions of continuing your sentence. Mentally, you thanked him for the save, but something in his posture told you that the danger was not yet over. Not even close.

“I think we should take a break… maybe put a little distance between us… until your wedding.”

And there it was. Out in the open were the words that you were far too scared to speak. Of course he had known what you didn’t want to say. He always knew. It didn’t make it any easier though.

Your chest felt like someone was stepping on it. You could feel him trying to pull his hands from yours but you refused to let go. It felt too real. It felt like the distance wouldn’t be temporary and the marriage would be a mistake. This was a mistake. This was a huge mistake.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered through closed vision, “This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. This was never what I wanted.”

“I know.” “No you don’t,” you sobbed, letting your head fall to your chest, “How could you know? How could you know…”

Namjoon fought back his own emotions with as much resolve as he could. He plastered a fake smile on his lips. A smile that he hoped would convince not only you but himself that he truly just wanted what was best for you and he didn’t care what that meant for him.

“I know because I wanted it too.”

It was as close to a confession as he could get. He couldn’t force himself to say the eight letters that would potentially change things between you even if it was the last time he ever spoke to you. He’d lived without you before, he would learn to do so again.

But then you were looking up at him and he could see that you understood plain as day through silver tears.

“You… you did?”

Did. Did what? Did he want your friendship of many years to end this way? No, of course not. Did he want you to be happy? Yes. Did he want to be by your side and be a part of that happiness? Ideally yes. But were those the questions you were asking? He couldn’t be sure and yet, he could hope.

You waited with baited breath for him to answer. To clarify.

Say it. You begged in your head. Say it and I’m yours. I’ll leave him. Just say it.

But all that Namjoon could do was look at your face, trying to remember every detail. He wished he was talented at painting or drawing so that he could draw you over and over to fill the inevitable void that you were already wedging in his heart. One that he knew would never be full again.

He found himself leaning closer to try to see clearer. His contacts were a little too dry and you were a little too far and the light a little too dark for him to soak up the details he so loved. The mole on your cheek next to your nose, the wrinkle between your eyebrows that appeared far too much since you had started to date Minhyeok, the scar on your forehead from one thing or another that happened in your childhood. All would be missed. He just needed to touch them one last time.

Instinctively, he reached out to do just that, his left hand once again cupping your cheek and his thumb smoothing across the divots and texture that you had always found so abhorrent all the way to the near edge of your nose where he found the spot he would so love to kiss. A desire that he would never more get to entertain.

He scooched closer to you so could breathe in the familiar scent of coconut and something flowery and sweet mixed with the irresistible vanilla of your perfume. His scent, something like buttery roses, soap and cedar filled your own head up with the feeling of Sunday mornings in a log cabin on a rainy day after a particularly good night of loving.

Your legs met in the middle of the love seat, one of his the one on the inside, bent so he could face you, and both of yours were crossed together like a pretzel. The texture of his sweats felt like silk on your bare legs and the heat from his body caressed your exposed skin. It was like he was hugging you before touching you and suddenly all you could think of was what his skin would feel like against yours with no barrier between.

He leaned closer. Namjoon knew he should stop. You had just told him that you were engaged and he’d just told you that there needed to be space between the two of you, but this was the complete opposite of both of those things.

Closer his lips came to yours, your wet cheeks never a deterrent for him, but when he was only a hair's breadth away, he paused. He couldn’t do it and he knew that neither could you. So he froze on the spot and just waited, breathing in your air and wishing that he had fessed up sooner and that he wasn’t the coward he now thought himself to be.

His eyes, which had fluttered almost entirely shut, now did the opposite. From this close up, he could see every inch of you doused in the yellow lights. You looked like an angel sent from somewhere surreal and ethereal. Your frown, pulled at the corners and a perfect peach, called to him. He wished could fix every problem, every issue. He wished he could somehow snap his fingers and erase your pain. But that was not his place. You were strong and independent. He would not- could not- disrespect you by trying to save you in some misogynistic show of power. This was up to you. You made your choices and he trusted that you knew whether they were the right ones or not.

And yet he did not have the strength to pull away from you. He couldn’t pull back now that he’d come so far. He begged you to do it for him. He begged for you to push him off and berate him for even trying to kiss you. He wanted you to stand, maybe slap him and walk away, severing the friendship that he had already tried to cut but failed.

Instead, he saw you open your doe eyes, scared and caught. He watched the fear turn into sadness and confusion. He watched the sparkle of hope fizzle and then die. And then he felt himself shrivel up and die too.

“Joon,” you whispered, your breath smelled of cherry and mint. A flavor he couldn’t quite wrap his head around but you seemed to like in chapsticks.

“Y/N?”

His lips brushed yours as he spoke. Sparks flew across his vision and his dead heart suddenly beat back to life with a ferver never before seen. Would one kiss really be all that bad?

“We can’t.”

And you were right. It broke you to say it since you had practically begged for just this moment for so many years but not now. Not when you were freshly engaged and you couldn’t tell if he was kissing you out of pity or because he wanted to. Even if you asked, you weren’t sure if you could believe him.

“I know.” Was all he said, letting out a held breath that tickled your lips and nose. God it was so tempting to just cross the final distance and kiss him.

He was so beautiful in the dim lighting. You could almost picture him in with candles lit instead of the lamps, maybe with his shirt off, maybe in a bathtub, maybe with you in it as well. The possibilities of which none were explored suddenly felt like lost opportunities and wasted moments. The weight on both yours and his shoulders held massive. A line had been drawn that neither of you were willing to cross but willed the other to breach in each other’s stead.

Alas, when the minute mark passed and no movement came from either of you, Namjoon forced himself back, just a fraction, and dropped his hand to his lap.

Still in each other’s space, you connected your eyes to his once more. You should leave. It was the only option left. But somehow, you knew once you did, it was for good.

“I wanted to, though.” You whispered, hoping that that was enough.

It wasn’t.

“I know.”

I know. Was that all he knew to say? I know. Yeah great he knew but did he really? Did he know how torn up you were just sitting before him with your heart on your sleeve and all he could say was that he knew? No. You wanted him to yell at you. You wanted him to scream and cry and kick you out of his house. You wanted him to give you a reason to trust your finacé. You wanted him to say that all he had ever seen in you was sex or that he only ever used you as an emotional dump. This was too hard, too unfair.

“Can’t you say anything else?”

“What?” His voice was louder, taken aback. His half moon eyes were wide, still red, and confused.

“I know,” you mimicked, “I know, I know, I know! Yeah, Of course you fucking know. We all know. We all know that I’ve been in love with you for years and you never gave me the time of day.We all knew that you didn’t feel it and it's cruel to pretend that you do now. Just tell me that you never loved me Joon. Just tell me to leave. I need to hear it because you give me these mixed signals and I just can’t take it anymore!”

You stood up, turned away from him and crossed your arms. You were so angry that the traces of hot tears were not cold to your burning skin. You were fuming. If you were a cartoon, steam would be coming out of your ears.

The sudden change in atmosphere took Namjoon by surprise. From a breath of a kiss to an ocean between you seemed a bit extreme but Namjoon, even in his shock, could understand what you meant because he had prayed for the same thing earlier. What he didn’t expect was for you to admit to him what he had suspected but convinced himself could not be reality.

“I didn’t know,” and maybe that wasn’t the best thing to say because knowing you, you would take his statement as sass or sarcasm, but he couldn’t help but smile lightly as you turned hotly towards him. You stopped over to his towering body, his arm now crossed confidently over his broad chest over the baggy shirt he’d opted for that day.

There was fire in your gaze and tension in your jaw. Your lips were set in a snarl, the one you thought was scary but only made him want to kiss you more than he’d ever wanted to before. Your hands were fisted together and he could make them out only slightly under your oversized sweater. The likes of which you had worn more and more to hide your body out of “respect” for your boyfriend even though you had always been confident and liked to show off your curves.

“Are you fucking kidding me Namjoon? What the hell do you mean you didn’t know? What don’t you know with that big ass brain of yours?”

Namjoon felt a tear roll down his cheek, but it wasn’t sadness he was feeling nor was it fear or anger, he was happy. So freaking happy. He couldn’t remember the last time that he cried out of pure joy. Suddenly, all of the obstacles seemed null and void and he had tunnel vision. The halo of baby hairs around your head caught the light of the lamps and made you look like you were wearing a crown. You were a goddess. You were his. You would always be his and you were right there. All he had to do was take you. Say yes.

“I didn’t know, Y/N.” he chuckled letting the tears stream freely, now void of all embarrassment, “I didn’t know, in my big ass brain, that you actually loved me back.”

“How could you not-wait what?” The anger, so vivid and red, fueled and roaring for you to scream at him and say he had a big head to hold his big dumb brain suddenly was doused with a wave of cool blue water.

“Did you not hear me? I said that I didn’t know.” And his smile was wide now, his nose a little runny and the tension in his muscles relaxed as he watched your face contort.

“You didn’t?”

He took another step closer to you, his happiness felt like it was coming off in waves, like the sun hitting your skin but without the dangers of UV rays or your worry about sunscreen. You felt weak. Your legs felt like jelly. Had you heard correctly? Were you going deaf?

“I didn’t. But-uh…” he hissed and scratched the back of his head, “I know now.” He was leaning down towards you. You were so close that you were looking almost straight up at him. Your neck would hurt if you stayed like this too long and his would get knots, you just knew it but neither of you were thinking clearly.

Namjoon, cautious as ever, loosely, almost not even touching, wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you closer. His big hand was splayed on your upper back. You held both of yours up to keep yourself from stumbling into him or hitting your head against him. Both of your centers were flush together, your legs separated only slightly, and your upper bodies held apart by just your arms.

“Yeah… now you know.”

And then there was science in which the only sounds were of the buzzing electricity and your shared breaths. Your mind was blank save for the recurring instruction to inhale then to exhale. Your eyes explored Namjoon’s face. From this close, you could see all of the imperfections of his skin and the moles you’d long admired. The one under his lip in particular made you falter.

You gazed up at him for a split second then back to the mole. Eyes locked, you leaned forward intent on giving it a peck. Your ears began to burn, your body- to heat up, and you realized that Namjoon was leaning down to meet you as you reached up.

Namjoon couldn’t function. The gears in his head had stopped working the moment you body hit his. Worming a hand into your hair, he helped to guide your head closer to his. You shut down the thoughts that kept popping up saying that this was a bad idea. You forced yourself to focus on the moment. This was everything you had ever wanted. This was what you had been waiting for for your whole life.

And then his lips brushed against yours, his warm breath coming out shaky onto your face. He was nervous. This was enough to tell. Namjoon was nervous to kiss you. It brought a smug smile to your lips as you closed the remaining distance.

Then it was dark. Eyes closed, lips sealed on each other and breaths hitched on the fear of taking things a step too far, the world stopped then just as suddenly exploded into being and color.

Where before the world was dull and grey, now there was an abundance of color and saturation that made both you and Namjoon gasp in shock. Your lips tingled and Namjoon’s skin prickled with goosebumps. Slowly, you kissed each other. Slowly, your bodies seemed to merge into something more, something together and whole and one. And then slowly, you both knew that this was the only right in a world of many wrongs.

Your bodies worked on instinct, lips dancing in the semi darkness with a tenderness that you had never been shown. Wave after wave of energy seemed to pile in your chest begging for release.

Namjoon let the hand on your back open as much as he could so he could hold as much of you as possible. He pressed your chest into his, seeking depth in your lips with his tongue running over the bottom one. The stars and universe seemed to realign with your bodies, connecting for the first time in a way less than platonic.

I love you. Your mind whispered somewhere in the dark void of your mind. I love you. Louder. I love you, I love you. You wanted to say it a million times. You wanted to kiss every square inch of his face and compliment every cell in his body. You wanted to taste his mouth and whisper the confessions you had never had the courage to confess before.

Namjoon’s smile was painful. Your hands came up to his neck, one hand cupping his cheek opposite of the one in your hair, the other one was on his neck. Chills ran down his spine and his muscles tensed. Your fingers on his neck drew small circles as your tongue met his and it was over. Blood rushed to his neck and cheeks and suddenly he was hot. So hot. The apartment had been pretty cool, set to a nice and pleasant 74 degrees, but now he was burning.

The tenderness of our tongue in his mouth made him feel like he was on fire. So warm that it almost burned his skin and he could feel himself begin to sweat as his heart pumped faster and faster.

Breaking the kiss, he gulped in air, completely breathless and excited in more than one way. He opened his eyes to your gasping just as he had, your lips slightly swollen and your hair where his hand was holding you firmly a slight bit frizzy and disheveled. But it was not enough.

Namjoon wanted to smear the lipstick on your lips all over your face and have your sweat soaked body under his, writhing with pleasure and his name falling from your lips. Namjoon was thirsty. He was hungry and you were looking like a full meal to his deep brown eyes.

Without waiting for you to speak, he leaned down and wrapped your exposed legs around his waist, crossing your heels behind him. You squawked unattractively and wrapped your arms around his neck to hold yourself up.

“If you want me to put you down or you want to leave, say it now because I don’t think I could take it if I took you to my room and you wanted to leave then.”

He said it with the smile still firmly on his lips, not a hint of doubt in his eyes. You giggled and buried your face into the crook of his neck where another of the moles you had always dreamed of kissing lay. Planting the smallest one you could muster, you were rewarder with a deep sigh that turned into a near moan.

“Ooo, I get to go into your room?”

Namjoon chuckled, walking towards the hallway that led to where he slept with what seemed like all the time in the world.

“You do. You haven’t been in there in a while right, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you agreed, peppering kisses against the tendon in his neck and holding back the instinct to bite it. Namjoon’s hands were firmly on your thigh, making sure he wasn’t crossing any lines that you hadn’t explicitly told him he could, though a part of you wished that he would just throw caution to the wind and touch you.

“It hasn’t changed much since the last time you saw it.” He was at the door now and there was a tension now that you were at the precipice of the forbidden space. The place you had marked as crossing a line when you had gotten into a relationship was right at your back and by the slight tightening of Namjoon’s fingers on your bare flesh, he remembered that line as well.

“Last chance to back out,” he whispered, the fear that had dissipated was now dripping from his voice. There was no coming back from this now. If you let Namjoon walk you into that room, you were coming out and ending everything with Minhyeok.

Then it was all crystal clear. You pictured yourself waking up the next morning in Namjoon’s arms. You imagined what it would be like to date him, to hold his hand and to be held when you got home from work. You saw your whole future laid out before you. The love, the wedding, the family… and it was the easiest choice you had ever made.

“Take me in, Joon.”

His shoulders relaxed, his heart skipped a beat. Namjoon kicked his door open with as much care as he could spare before he basically jumped across the line that separated the room from the rest of the house. You were in his room and he had just kissed you and told you he was in love with you and you had kissed him back.

Namjoon was on top of the world. But he couldn’t wait to be on top of you, or to have you on top of him;he wasn’t picky.

You pulled back so you could see him, a soft smile on your face as you nuzzled your nose with his. Namjoon sighed again. It was like he was so happy that his body wouldn’t contain it all. He wanted to show you or scream at you or eat you up. He wanted his happiness to be seen by the world.

Fuck, he wanted you. He pecked your lips before you could pull away once then you pulled him back in for another quick kiss by the back of the head. He kissed you once more, pushing his lips against yours playfully trying to make it loud and obnoxious.

You laughed as he leaned down, your body coming with him until you were 90 degrees tipped back. You held onto his head for dear life and tightened your thighs around him.

“Joon I’m gonna fall,” you mumbled against him. Being the jerk he was, he let go of your legs. Your body fell from his, a bit of shock ran through you before your body bounced off his mattress.

“Asshole! I thought you dropped me on the floor!”

Namjoon leaned down over you, standing between your legs and holding his weight on his hands, which rested on either side of your chest. You scratched his hair the way you knew he liked. His eyes nearly rolled back into his head and something like a growl left his throat.

“I would never!” He argued.

“Yeah right. Remember that time when you said you could squat me and you refused to properly grab me so I ended up with the wind knocked out of me?”

“That was an accident.”

You laughed softly, “Uh Huh sure.”

Namjoon scrunched his nose, then leaned down to bite your cheek playfully.

“I would never drop you like that on purpose.” He clarified.

The air stilled when his beaming eyes met yours and you felt yourself become almost as breathless as you had then.

“I know.”

Namjoon didn’t answer. Instead he leaned down and kissed your pretty lips again. It started slow and sweet. The playfulness of the friendship you both shared seeped into it, but then he leaned down onto his forearms and his hips nuzzled into your partially clothed core.

He must have felt the shift too because he bit down on your upper lip and suckked it into his mouth. You moaned, then promptly regretted it. This was Namjoon, your best friend. It was weird to actually moan in his presence even though you had previously moaned his name when you were alone in your room.

Namjoon felt all the blood in his brain drain into his dick. He could feel your warmth radiate through his sweats and your underwear. The skirt you were wearing was no obstacle for the position you were in. He needed more. He wanted you to moan so loud that you were horse the next day.

When your mouth fell open, he took it as an invitation to continue where you had stopped in the living room. His tongue massaged yours in sensuous strokes. He pressed his middle to yours, hoping he wasn’t over stepping. You wrapped your legs around him and pulled him closer.

Namjoon understood instantly. He ground his hips into yours in circles. His member was rock hard and ready to come out but he knew he needed to take some extra time with you. If he remembered correctly, you had once mentioned how men never seemed to take the proper time for foreplay. He would not be one of those guys.

He rolled his hips into you again and you groaned into his mouth. Fuck. How was he supposed to hold off? No wonder men never took their time. The noises that you were making were sinful.

“Y/N,” he groaned, kissing your jaw then sucking a bruise into your neck, “tell me what you want from me, baby.”

You couldn’t think. What did you want from him? You wanted him. That much was clear. You wanted his fingers all over you. Those delectable, long… thick… fingers… you wanted… you wanted him… you wanted him in...

“Fuck, Joonie,” you gasped, pushing him off slightly so you could clear your head, “how am i supposed to think when you’re distracting me?”

Namjoon chuckled into the place where your neck met your collar bone. He nibbled on the skin but then brought his face up to yours so you knew you had all his attention.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t be, just…” you swallowed the excess saliva in your mouth, “anything. Whatever you want to do, I want it too.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes. Typical of you not to say exactly what you wanted. Typical that you left it up to him. You always let him choose, always put him first. Namjoon knew better. This time, it was about you.

“You are so predictable, sweet thing,” he winked as he shifted so that he could hold himself up on one arm. His long fingers grabbed onto your upper thigh and slid down your leg. Namjoon marveled at how soft your skin was before he got to your ankle… God your ankles… but that was for another time… and pushed it to the side so your legs were now open enough for him to get between with his arm.

Namjoon looked down and pushed the fabric of the skirt up to reveal a pair of sinfully innocent seamless underwear. Almost perfectly innocent. Because they were wet. Already, the fabric on top of your lips was dark and it took everything in him not to lean down and kiss the spot and lick it clean.

Instead, he dipped his index finger under the seam and lifted it up so he could get his hand in. It was a mistake. You were soaking wet. So wet that he barely had to touch your lips to pick up your sticky arousal.

The moan that escaped his lips was embarrassing. You weren’t even touching him and already he was ready to spill his seed into his sweats.

“You’re wet,” he said dumbly, but for once in your friendship, you didn’t comment. Instead, your hands were covering your face as Namjoon wiggled his fingers around trying to collect as much of your juices as he could.

“No shit sherlock.” Namjoon had known it was too good to be true. He wasn’t offended, and he didn’t fire back. With all the subtlety of a bull, Namjoon nudged a finger between your folds and began to search for your magic button.

You gasped but Namjoon was not going to let you hide from him. With his free hand, he pulled at your wrists so he could see your face contort.

“Let me look at you.” It wasn’t a command, it was a request but you pulled your hands away so fast he would have almost sworn he’d forced you.

“Hey,” he whispered, worried but still looking for your clitoris below, “look at me, Y/N.” He held your chin as your eyes opened and you bit your lip.

“Let me know if you’re uncomfortable. We can take this slow, baby. I won’t get hurt.”

“Namjoon,” his name was tight in your throat and your eyes widened as Namjoon felt his fingers roll over a nub between your lower lips, “I- I want you to..”

“You want me to what?” He asked you, enjoying the way your body twitched as he rubbed circles into your sensitive area. His lips quirked.

“I want you to fuck me.” You whispered so low that he almost missed it. For what felt like the millionth time that night, his brain stopped working but his hands seemed to know exactly what to do.

He switched his index finger for his thumb and roughly plunged the index into your pulsating hole. Your eyes were so wide that he wondered if they would pop out.

“Namjoon,” you moaned, the sound deep and thick with arousal.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you,” he heard himself say, “I’m going to fuck you so good that no one will ever be able to fuck you again.”

“Please,” you begged, completely serious. His promises of a good time made more arousal ooze out of you.

“You’re so tight, baby. So wet for me… I want to be inside you.”

Namjoon kissed your nose then your cheek and pushed another finger into your needy hole.

“I want your walls to mold onto my cock. I want to make love to you, Y/N. Will you let me? Can I make love to you?” He curled his fingers up into the spongy part of you, making your whole body tense.

“Yes.” The word had barely left your lips before he’d ripped his fingers off you and yanked your panties off. The cool air of the room hit your naked lips as a shiver ran through your body.

Namjoon stood to his full height. His shoulders were so broad and his chest thick and built. You could tell through the baggy shirt that he grabbed from a corner and yanked off. The muscles in his body had been toned. You knew he was working out but shit this was something else. Knowing something and seeing it was something else entirely. He had a toned abdomen with the tiniest bit of pudge by his belly button and the waistband of his sweats. His arms looked so strong.

Without really thinking, you sat up and pulled your sweater over your head, leaving you in your completely unsexy bra and your skirt. Namjoon licked his lips before he stuck the two fingers that had been in you into his mouth and sucked and licked all the arousal off them. You watched him with your heartbeat rising. You could feel it pulsing in your core.

“Fuck you’re delicious, Y/N.”

You knew you probably already looked fuck out of this world. The fact that you were in the position you were in with Namjoon was enough to make you want to squirt all over his sheets.

“Take off the rest of your clothes, baby. Let me see you.”

You didn’t hesitate. You pulled your skirt down your legs and tossed it somewhere in the room. You unclasped your bra as he pulled his sweats and underwear off with one motion and stepped out of them. When he looked up, you were naked. Your bra was gone and your legs were bent at the knee and open so he could see everything.

He could get on his knees right then and spend an eternity just eating your pussy out, but his dick twitched between his legs and he couldn’t help but selfishly want to bury himself deep within you. These urges could wait for a later time couldn’t they?

With surprising difficulty, Namjoon pulled his eyes up from your dripping slits, because they were dripping, coated with clear arousal that was begging him almost as much as he was begging you to be laved at with his whole mouth, and looked at your naked torso. YOur skin was flushed and slightly damp. Your chest was heaving up and down, your breasts spread to give him a clear view of where his face belonged.

You curled a finger at him, gesturing for him to come over as you pushed yourself back against the pillows. Namjoon, entranced, hypnotized, enamoured like he was, hopped into bed like an over excited puppy and crawled between your legs. You shook your head at him as you grabbed his and brought his lips to yours. They met in a sensual, now less urgent but just as passionate kiss that erupted behind your closed eyelids in the form of fireworks and confetti. It had been so long that you’d hoped for him. That you had wanted him. It had been so long that you dreamed of him here, loving you in the way you wanted to be loved. Still his breaths were heavy and short, like he was trying to calm himself but couldn’t quite do it. It made your heart sing.

Slowly he ran his hands up and down the side of your body, almost as if he was scared to fully touch what he’d never once believed he would get but then his finger tips grazed your obliques and it was like the missing puzzle piece clicked into place. Your skin was silky smooth and soft to the touch. He really could get off on just how nice it was to touch your skin. ALready he knew that he’d have dreams about how smooth to the touch it felt to have you in his hands. You kissed him lovingly still, enjoying how carefully he explored your body and feeling completely worshiped underneath him as you had imagined it would be. Your hands ran down onto his chest feeling his every muscle. The expanse of lean meat above you made you swallow hard. Finally you got to see the culmination of his hard work. The chest, the toned and delectable chest you expected, but what you hadn’t expected was the glimpse of his oblique muscles and the four pack and start of six he had. With your lips still connected to his, you touched every inch of him you could without venturing too low.

Namjoon let his hand cross over your stomach and make its way up to your boobs, cupping the mounds under for a second, gauging how big they were in his large palms and smiling as he ventured further up. He pinched one of your nipples between two fingers and rubbed the other in circles with his palm. You groaned into the kiss and smiled as you felt his own smile come back. There was something so sweet about it all. So tentative and new that it felt like your first time all over again. It felt special unlike anything that had ever been before. This felt like the true start of something completely new and pure. Something right.

Namjoon bit your lip, a chuckle escaping his throat as you moaned into the damp cavern of his mouth.

“You’re so cocky, dude.” You said between kisses on your cheeks and jaw.

“Wanna see just how cocky I am?”

Yes. Yes you did, the member between his legs and now inevitably between yours was hot against your inner thighs and you wanted nothing more than to feel just how big it was, but the contrarian in you wanted to argue and give him a hard time. That is, until you felt one of his and leave your sensitive nipples and reach between you only to then run his tip up and down your slits.

He was big. Thick. He was probably somewhere about average in length, maybe slightly bigger, but he was thick. Your hand found its way between your bodies and fought his off to position itself around his shaft. Namjoon’s breath caught as he felt your long, warm fingers run up and down his dick using the tip to pleasure yourself. A fucking day dream. That’s what you were.

God, how did he get here? What had he done to deserve this reward? He licked into your mouth with renewed vigor and pinched and touched the nipple still in his hands as if his life depended on you getting off because in that moment, to Namjoon, it did.

“Joon,” you groaned as your orgasm began to build from the multiple points of contact, “Please…”

You didn’t have to finish. He knew what you wanted. He reached down and helped guide your hand down wrapping his around yours. His other hand held onto your hip to keep you at the right position. His tip felt every crevice of your folds before it caught slightly on the hole between your legs. It pulse excitedly, ready to welcome him in. It was slick with your juices. So slippery that Namjoon found it hard to keep his tip in position.

Namjoon looked up at you with nothing but care and love present in his eyes. There was lust in the back, held together by the ounce of self control he seemed to have. You could tell he wanted to fuck you into the matress but was holding back. Conflicted, you played with the idea in your head. As much as you wanted him to be rough, this was your first time together. It would be nice if he took his time. You wanted to feel him inside you and you wanted to remember it. At the same time, you wanted to see what sort of animal hid behind his calm exterior.

“Ready?” He asked, pulling you back into the moment, so defused and hazy by the sheer affection that radiated from both of your bodies.

You nodded. Ready was an understatement. You needed him inside you. You wanted him.

Then he was pushing into you and your world went white. He pushed all the way in with so much tenderness that you almost didn’t know how to react. Impulsively, you squeezed him as he went. He groaned, stopping every time you did that. His hand on your hip was squeezing bruises that you would cherish the next day. You kiss his chin, his lips, his cheeks, his nose, his forehead. You kiss everything within reach, and when he brought a hand up to cup your face, you kissed that too, holding it against your burning skin only to have him grab your finger and kiss your knuckles, eyes connected.

You could truly die then. You feel so complete and happy. Completely unbothered by the mess you were creating by giving yourself this one selfish act. It could wait for later. In this moment, you were Namjoon’s and he was yours and that’s all that mattered.

He bottomed out, his balls tapping your ass. It was then that you noticed that he hurt a little. He was so wide that your opening wasn’t used to it and his fingers, while big were no match for his girth.

“Fuck,” you whined, the pain bulding in your throat slightly. There were tears in your eyes. Namjoon began to panic.

“Y/N,” he paused, looking as the tears ran down your cheeks like they had a bit ago, “I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Do you want me to pull out-” “No.” You said firmly. Resolute. You would get used to it. You were sure. You just needed-

“A minute. Just give me… a minute.”

Namjoon, bless his heart, nodded, holding himself up with one arm. The hand on your face wiped the tears off as quickly as they came. He peppered kisses on your shoulders, never once pressuring you. He had half a mind to force you to stop if this is how badly he was making you feel.

“Move.” The command came out of nowhere and Namjoon was nowhere near ready for it. Your heart was racing. Your blood pumped through your body a mile a minute and suddenly, the pain was gone, well mostly. Blinding desire coursed through you as he stood still.

You couldn’t take it. You wanted him to fuck you. You wanted him to make it hard to walk. You wanted the pain. Ironically.

“Namjoon honey,” you started when he still hadn’t moved at all, too shocked to process your order. Your voice was thin and almost a whisper from how good he was stretching you. He looked up, a drop of sweat falling from his forehead.

“Yes?”

“Please baby… I want you to fuck me. I can take it.”

It was like a switch was flicked somewhere in his brain. His cock twitched inside you, your walls squeezed back in reassurance as he fixed his position over you. Namjoon brought a hand up and wrapped it around your neck, a kink you had told him about a long time ago when you were drunk and made him swear he would never bring up again after he had spent a good twenty minutes making fun of you, but now… you were thanking your past self for revealing this secret.

He pulled out slowly, like he was going to ignore your request, but then, he plunged in. His hips hit yours so hard you were sure it would bruise. A strangle moan was ripped from your throat. His fingers tightened slightly around your neck. He could feel your pulse against his thumb.There was something intoxicating about the power you had entrusted him. Fuck this was so hot. He’d dreamed of having you like this and now here he was fucking into you like there was no tomorrow. He pulled out again, slow as a turtle then thrust in at lightning speed. You choked on your spit, and his hand around your neck. The sound of his skin slapping yours made his cock quake as he rammed in harder, harder, harder. The squelching from your core only served to push him further. He wondered if you would let him record so he could have just the sounds of his cock in your pussy on a playlist. A thought for another time.

Stolen prayers of his name left your lips every time he stopped kissing you. Weak and fucked out and so incredibly sexy that he thought he must be dreaming. You were so perfect.

“Your pussy takes me so good, baby.”

“Fuck… Joon, I'm close.” And for once in your life, you were not lying. You reached down and rubbed tight circles into your clit as he continued his ruthless pace.

“Cum for me baby… I’m close too.”

“Call me baby,” you begged. The name felt like heaven on your ears from his deep voice.

“Baby,” he growled, “Baby you’re so tight and- wet.”

“Fuck, Joonie… I’m gonna-” You kept your pace steady as Namjoon pumped into you, his thick mushroom head hitting your gspot almost every time he pushed in. The coil in your stomach tightened. Harder, harder… Harder still.

“Come on baby. I want to feel that pussy squeeze around me.”

“I’m-” It was a culmination of his thrusts, your circles, and the dirty talk that finally got you there.

The rubber band that had built in your stomach snapped. You tumbled over the edge. Your body twitched as Namjoon kept fucking you through the orgasm. Namjoon watched as his dick disappeared into your even tighter hole. It squeezed around his rock hard erection.

“Fuck- Y/N… where do- where do you want me?” He asked as your walls spasmed around him, your arousal coating him from head to base.

“Inside- cum inside.”

He didn’t have to be told twice though he probably should have thought better of it. Namjoon pumped into you as overstimulation took over and your walls milked him. Your body twitched as he doubled down, chasing his own finish. You moaned into his ear, listing to the hard slaps of his hips on yours. You chanted his name like a mantra.

“Mine,” he growled so low that you almost weren’t sure that you heard him correctly.

“You-yours?” You asked, scared you had overstepped.

“That’s right. All mine. Just mine. My Y/N.”

His. It was all you ever wanted to be. His. And now you were. You were-

“Yours.” You confirmed, “all for you Joonie.”

Namjoon felt his hips stutter and then he stilled and he was cuming. He squirted into you thick ropes of cum that made you feel even more turned on even though you had just orgasmed. Namjoon moaned your name into your ear along with whispered confessions of love and happiness that had you feeling as if you had finished twice.

“Fuck…” he panted as his arms gave out. He let go of your neck and let his body fall on top of yours. His weight wasn’t unbearable. In fact you enjoyed the way that his body curled into yours like a puppy curling up with its person. You held him close, letting him mold himself onto you. Namjoon’s heaving body flush against your naked one felt like it was exactly where it was supposed to be.

You breathed in tandem with him, his head on your chest. Namjoon listened to your heart beat against your sternum, realizing that that heart, the heart he’d longed for, finally beat for him. And maybe it had beat for him all this time.

He kissed the place where your heart would be over your breast. A gesture that made said heart skip a beat. Tenderly, you pushed his sweaty hair off his face and watched as his lips curled up, satisfied with a job well done. Namjoon looked up at you, a soft smile on his plush lips. You could see nothing but pure joy and your own reflection shown back in his boba eyes.

“I love you,” he said, no shame about it at all. He knew things were still not perfect. He knew that you still had a fiancé and that things would only be difficult after you left the comfort of his bed. Namjoon felt himself deflate only slightly. He would be there for you. You knew that too. But the reality of your situation had suddenly crashed into his brain and he wasn’t totally sure how to progress from here. Neither of you had ever been homewreckers, nor had either of you cheated on a partner before.

Guilt pushed some of the happiness from your chest. You didn’t know how you would survive the next couple of days. You would break things off with Minhyeok. You would tell him that he was right. You couldn’t have him and Namjoon and the reality was… you had chosen Namjoon. You were always going to choose him. Like a hammer breaking glass, the safety you had created only minutes before seemed to break.

“I love you too,” you said, kissing his sweaty forehead. You would deal with it one step at a time. You knew you wouldn’t be alone and that was enough to get your heart to calm slightly.

There was silence again in which both of you wondered what the future held. Coming to the same conclusion, you knew that whatever came, you were just glad that you finally had each other.

“I know.” Namjoon whispered, kissing your chest again and nuzzling into you while also shifting some of his weight off so as not to crush you.

“Stay for the night?”

You couldn’t refuse. The rest of life could wait for tomorrow and the days to come, for now, you wanted to enjoy this moment and the feeling of being in his arms after years of not knowing. You wanted to enjoy that you finally knew.

[multifandomthoughts]

Sunbathing Beauty

MINORS DNI, NSFW

AFAB READER

Requested by: @softiebadbitch

Warnings: Fellatio, Penetration, Semi-public sex (though nobody is there)

“Ace, you can’t even swim!” You shout as the brunette held your arm, dragging you across the warm sand as he ran, umbrella slung over one shoulder and a backpack over the other. “But I wanted to spend time with you, and pops said if I didn’t get out soon, he’d tell the cook not to let me have any food for a week. I know he didn’t mean it, but that personal of a threat has to mean something.”

“I still don’t understand why you took me to the beach of all places.” You retort, the sun beating down on the two of you, reminding you to put on sunscreen after this conversation. “Isn’t it enough that I want to spend some time with you? You are my favorite person after all.” Ace flashes you a wide grin and drops the bag he was carrying, some of the contents spilling out.

You get a look at the contents and sighed. Buckets and hand shovels? The second division commander of the Whitebeard Pirates… wants to make sandcastles? “You’re lucky you’re so cute.” You say, trying to act annoyed but unable to keep a smile off your face. Pulling out the rest of the contents, there are two towels, sunscreen and sunglasses. The towel and sunscreen are most important, considering you were burning not only your skin, but the soles of your feet from the baking sand.

The first thing you do is spread your towel on the sand, and once the safe haven is formed you get off your hot feet and lie down on it, putting on your sunglasses. “Since we’re going to be here a while, do you think you could help me with the sunscreen? I don’t want to burn my back.” Ace nods and grabs the bottle. “Want to untie your top or should I just work around it?” He asks, squeezing a sizable dollop onto his hand.

You nod as best you can while lying down and reach back to untie the knot holding your top on. A small sigh escapes you as your chest feels that little bit more free. It’s soon replaced by a squeal as you twitch from the sudden presence of Ace’s cold, wet hands on your back. You return to a relaxed state once the initial shock wears off and enjoy the loving touch of him applying the lotion all over your bare skin. It feels like the interaction is over almost as soon as it started and soon he’s left your side again to start filling his buckets with sand. You pout a little bit, as you tie your top back on and sit up to start applying your own sunscreen everywhere else.

A funny feeling starts to creep upon Ace. His mind is no longer focused on the whimsy of building sand castles. He’s more interested in that bikini that you spent so much time trying to have him notice. His heart is racing as if he were on the battlefield, but adrenaline and aggression are the furthest things from his mind right now. This is purely… excitement, and something akin to the awe he gets from a sunset, all focused on you. The desire to get even closer to you begins to overwhelm his mind, and he has to do something about it. The thought of dumping a bucket of cold clear ocean water on you has passed.

Acting on impulse alone he left his buckets behind and stood in front of you once again, wordlessly staring. You give him a confused look. “Do you need something, Ace?” Stumbling over his words, Ace blurts “That swimsuit is so revealing it’s practically pointless. Let’s get rid of it.” Your face turns bright red, it wasn’t the reaction you expected, but one that you were looking for. “Ace….” You respond, a smirk on your face. “We can do that, but this is a public place!” “But why not? Being a pirate is about the freedom to do what you like when you like. And a relationship is about not caring what others think because you’re happy together. So since I’m all worked up now, let’s have some fun!”

You scan your eyes across the beach, looking for any signs of other inhabitants. It seems like any other occupants have left, either because they knew who Ace was, or they had become disinterested. Satisfied that you don’t have an audience, you give a sigh. “Alright, but can you at least put up the umbrella so we’ll be more cool in the shade?” Giving a mock salute, Ace sets about planting the pole in the sand and spreading the umbrella over your heads. “Nice and comfy now, hot stuff?” “Totally, the shade makes it nice and cool, as well as covering up.”

You go to take off your top, Ace’s eyes glued to your torso like a dog towards a steak. That gives you an even better idea, and you immediately put that plan into action. Running yours hand up and down your shoulders and thighs, you hover your hand over the knot keeping your swimsuit together. You can swear you see Ace gulp and a bead of sweat cascade down his forehead.

Rather than pull the knot undone right away you tug on the strings over your shoulders a bit to make your chest bounce for him. “You said this doesn’t cover enough, but I think you’re going crazy because you can’t see the best parts yet… but don’t worry baby, I’ll show you everything soon. And then you’ll melt in my hands, knowing that you have to beg. Ace squirms excitedly, his hands clasped together between his knees in a futile attempt to keep him from reaching out.

You right hand reaches behind your back to untie the knot while simultaneously holding your left arm in front of you, covering up your breasts as the top of your swimsuit goes limp around your body. Winking at him, you bring your free hand back around to your waist and start tugging at the side of your bottoms. “Which will it be first, Ace? Move this arm out of the way, or take the rest of it off?” For the first time, you think you’ve silenced Ace. He doesn’t say anything, and just stares straight ahead at your covered breast. So mesmerized, so enamored that not one word drips out of his mouth.

Ace says something, but the words just don’t come out. He repeats this multiple times, each time as quiet as the last time. You tilt your head in mock confusion, trying to hold back the smirk that attempts to creep onto your face. “Sorry babe, a little louder?” His fists are tightly clenched in between his knees as he sits in front of you staring unblinkingly at the arm keeping him from your treasure. “All… I want all of it… I need all of you…” he groans through gritted teeth, his legs constantly shifting as if that will bring any relief to his fierce prisoner.

“Oh, is that so? You laughed, happy to know that your plan of teasing him with your swimsuit has gotten you to this point. “So, what’s it going to be? Tits or pussy?” Ace flashes you a devilish grin, having gained his confidence back. The Ace that you met who was full of swagger, and could take on absolutely anything. Without a second thought he gently grabs your wrist. “Yes.” Next thing you know, you’re on your back in a passionate kiss with Ace. One hand is running through your hair, the other has pulled your arm away from your chest, your breasts now pressed against his pecs as the friction sends a wave of heat through both of your bodies.

“Now, for the elephant in the room….he declares. “Do I have your permission to touch you?” Nodding your head violently and vocalizing a yes, you take his hand, place it on your breast and wrap his fingers around the soft tender flesh. His knee runs up your inner thigh, stopping short of the prize and coming back down, then back up again. If he had finished the journey he would feel the damp spot in your bikini bottoms. Instead, he brings his mouth down to kiss and suck on the tit his hand had left unattended. “Love these so much…” he mutters, bowed over you as if in a prayer of gratitude. When his head does raise to meet your gaze, the mischievous look is back though a bit hazy with lust. “Permission to finish stripping you?” He inquired with a smirk. “G-granted…” you manage to squeak out between shuddering breaths and half suppressed moans. “Great. Then get up onto your knees and bend over for me.” He says with an authority you can’t dismiss but a needy tone that betrays the facade covering his desperation for this.

As he asks, you get on your hands and knees. No sooner have you done it than he is behind you running his hands over your ass. But he does not let himself get sidetracked and you feel fingers hooking under the waistband of your bottoms. With baited breath you try to hold still as he yanks the garment down to your knees. Your arousal is apparent in both the wetness of its crotch area and the moisture glistening on your exposed pussy. “Naughty girl, aren’t you?” Ace teases, knowing damn well he and his pitched mast aren’t ones to talk. “I could take you right here like this… would you like that? Or should I ask you to return the favor and help me out of my trunks now?” You squirm in his grip, before slipping out onto your back and spreading your legs for him. “You’ve been begging for it, I don’t know how you’re able to wait!” You giggle, batting your eyelashes at him. Seeing you in this new seductive pose silences Ace yet again, not to mention being called out for his lust. You take a little pity on him and sit up again to reach out for his swimsuit.

“I guess I won’t make you wait in agony any longer… let me see your handsome body…” you say softly as you pull his clothes off. Sure enough his erection springs out stiff and ready. You mull your eyes over it for a minute, big and thick before running your hand down and up the base. Ace let’s out a long sigh, one that he didn’t know that he was holding. He scoots back onto the very edge of the towel, spreading himself out so you have more room to take him in. Before anything else, you knew you had to give this thing some hands on attention… and probably lip service.

Running a finger up and down the warm flesh from soft tip to twitching base, you lick your lips and feel your lower half getting equally wet. You’re not some superficial girl who only appreciates a guy for physical attributes… but fuck this is an impressive dick. As you reach the tip again you wrap your hand around his shaft instead and start to gently stroke up and down. “So big and hard… just for me? You know how to make a girl feel special don’t you… Let’s see if I can make you feel even better. Just tell me if it hurts, or if you’re about to blow.” He nods violently, as you begin to lower your head back onto his dick. Your hand on the base of his shaft, you move it in the opposite direction you are sucking, sliding your hand up as you go down.

With a gentle grip guiding your head, Ace directs your motions in a steady pace, releasing a cacophony of moans. For every rise and fall he lets out a pleasured sound unlike anything you’ve ever heard from this notorious pirate. Some guttural, some high pitched, all from your man. You flutter your eyelashes again as you look up at him; it’s useless, as his eyes are gently closed in pure bliss. Despite the umbrella casting a long shadow across the two of you, beads of sweat roll down his forehead; you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. A sharp tug on your hair alerts you that he’s close, as his eyes roll back into his skull. He attempts to take control and starts thrusting in search of climax. You weren’t prepared to be face fucked like this, but you can adapt quickly.

Using your arms, you forcefully remove Ace’s hands from your head, releasing you from his guide. In an attempt to coax his climax quicker, you breathe in deeply through your nose and take all of his thick cock, burying your nose into his pubic bone. The mixture of deepthroating, and your hand on the base of his shaft causes him to let out an ear piercing whine. You manage to stay down and are rewarded as his pulsing cock unloads, the warm rush of cum filling your mouth. You swallow, before winking and blushing back at your partner.

“Ready for round two?” You coo, giving the tip of his cock a kiss before widening your stance expectantly. “Or can you not handle what beauty is sitting in front of you?” You expect him to need a little time to cool down and recharge, but his erection hasn’t gone down in the slightest and he only looks more eager. “I think I can handle you pretty well, just wanna be sure you can handle this bad boy. Guess I have my answer, so here’s a better question: Do we have any kind of protection?”

Biting your lip, you drag your discarded top through the sand, and reach inside the breast pocket. “For when a sexy man wants to have some fun…” You quip, tearing the wrapping open with your teeth. “Now’s the main event, big boy…” Separating the rubber from the plastic, you put Ace’s cock in your hand once again. In one quick movement, the condom is on and the two of you are ready to go. As he draws in close again, you run a playful finger along his abs. He takes hold of your left thigh while his right hand holds his member steady on its course. “Let me help with that…” you offer softly, grabbing his wrist to make the intention clear. He lets go and you take hold of the slick latex and warm flesh. Now with both hands on your thighs, he keeps your legs spread and your body steady as the tip of his member presses at your waiting opening to seek entry. With you to guide him he pushes a bit more and finds it.

You wince in pain, gripping his shoulders as his big cock fills you. He was stretching you a bit, but you didn’t mind the sting. The pain is worth the pleasure. You take a deep breath as you bottom out, a pleasant feeling enveloping your core. “Fuck me Ace, please…you feel so good…” you plead, squirming to get more of that wonderful feeling. “Okay hot stuff, be prepared for a wild ride.” His hands wander up to your breasts, grasping them as if they were the most precious jewels. Tantalizingly slow, he pulls out of you. You beg and whine, every inch lost leaving an empty feeling until all you have is the tip. “Put it….in…please!!” You howl, clawing at his legs as you attempt to push him back in. He goes back to rubbing your nipples under his thumbs and acts like he’s deep in thought. “Well… you’re making some pretty cute noises right now so maybe I shouldn’t? Ah, but I wanna hear what you’ll sound like when I do this!” And just like that he slammed back in, as you let out a loud moan.

Ace is done going easy on you, and the thrust in is immediately followed by another out, then back in agains and again. He’s really fucking you now, and it feels so goddamn good. Every slap of skin against skin elicits an even louder sound, is it possible that there’s a limit to your volume? The harder he goes on you, the tighter you can feel yourself getting. Your coil keeps tightening, almost ready to snap. As if the feeling of his cock isn’t exciting enough, the look on his face and the grunts and moans he’s making are sure as hell helping. You wrap your legs around his waist to keep him deep in you and arch your back to press your tits into his waiting hands even more.

Pleasure and joy flow through your body and mind so strongly you worry it might start to spill out as tears, and you can certainly tell it’s dripping out somewhere else. Your sexual frenzy continues a few minutes more until you know you can’t take any more. “Ace… I’m so close…” you try to tell him, though by now your voice has been reduced to a shrill squeak. Ace understands it though, and replies with a grunt that sounds like “Me too… together babe.” Your boyfriend leans in and kisses you one more time as he ruts like the animal in heat he seems to be. The dam bursts and you moan into the kiss as your pussy convulses and tries to milk him for all he’s got. Luckily you have the condom in the way, because he’s got a lot. He twitches a few times as a fresh load streams out and is collected in the reservoir tip, and you feel a new wave of heat in your core.

You lay back on your towel, spent. It feels as if you’ve just completed a marathon and every muscle in your body is crying out for rest. Despite this, you look into Ace’s eyes; they’re clouded from what just went on. Catching your breath, your face is just inches away from Ace’s. He’s regained all his energy already and gives you a cheeky grin. “See? I knew we’d have plenty to do at the beach without having to swim!”

[nationalharryleague]

One Day

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: Drunk!Harry Fluff!

Word count: 2K

A/N: Hi all! This is some drunk boyfriend harry fluff that I just love sm. It’s based off of “One Day” by Catie Turner (I highly recommend listening to it!!) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist and I would love to hear what you think in my ask! Thank you so much for reading! 

***

Harry was the life of the party when he wanted to be. He knew how to let loose, with a tequila on the rocks in one hand and a beer in the other, ready to party until he (literally) dropped. He always ended up on some sort of elevated surface like a teenage girl, usually a kitchen island or an absurdly expensive coffee table, singing along to whatever music was playing, magically knowing every word to whatever came over the speakers. Sometimes he would get lost in the winding corridors of the massive mansions his friends lived in, taking a wrong turn in his enhibrated state and ending up somewhere he definitely wasn’t supposed to be. There was also one time he jumped off a (thankfully low) roof into the swimming pool below.

But usually, he was calm, cool, and collected; gently sipping on a single drink he would nurse for most of the night. The two of you liked to sit and watch during these parties, his hand settling securely on your waist, keeping you close to him and away from the chaos that unfolded before you. You would curl up on a couch somewhere and just watch it all play out like it was an observational study, often giving commentary and ranking people and their drunk dancing out of 10.

“I feel like we're the mean girls in the corner of the cafeteria who just sit and silently judge everyone around them,” you would giggle, nuzzling yourself further into his side.

“That’s because we are the mean girls in the corner judging everyone around them, sweetheart” he would reply, in a slightly buzzed drawl.

But tonight was not one of those nights. And Harry had ended up standing on top of the dining room table scream-singing ABBA at the top of his lungs.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatic and messy performance. His limbs flailed freely as he wiggled his hips along to the beat of Dancing Queen, singing into a small statue of a naked woman he had picked up off an end table that you assumed to be very, very expensive, like it was a microphone. He wore a pair of high rise denim flares that swayed along with his movements to the music and his white “Women are Smarter'' shirt was now stuck to his body with sweat, just see through enough for his butterfly to make an appearance.

He only came down after a green malaise began to settle over his features, skin slightly clammy and a bit pale. You extended a hand, helping his loopy body down off the table and letting him settle into your side for support once he was on solid ground again. “Let’s head to the bathroom, H,” you said gently, trying to settle the panic that was beginning to crawl into his eyes. “I’ll take care of you.”

Once he got to the beautifully large and extravagant bathroom, he crawled into a small, or as small as the large man could make himself, ball and rested his hot clammy cheeks against the cool marble of the floor. “May have overdone it,” he grumbled from his spot on the floor, holding on for dear life as you were sure the room was spinning for him.

“Ya think?” you teased, immediately feeling a pang of guilt when you were met with a pathetically needy face from him in return. “Oh baby, it’s okay.” You carefully dug through the cabinets, knowing there had to be washcloths somewhere in the lavish room, and once you found one you dampened it with cold water. Settling down on the tile next to him, you pulled him and his sweaty curls on to your lap, wiping the layer of sweat delicately from his skin and then resting the cold cloth on his forehead.

You two stayed in this position for a while, carefully rubbing his back in an effort to sooth the large man and trying to ignore the loud music that was still shaking the house around you. He looked small like this, no longer your giant protector, but like a younger version of himself who just needed someone to take care of him. You were happy to be that person, as he always was for you.

This was the first time you had ever seen him like this. He always managed to know his limits, but tonight he just went off the deep end. He had been working like a dog, constantly in and out of the studio, frustrated that none of the songs he was writing were up to his astronomically high standards for himself. It wasn’t too shocking that he was trying to escape that stress.

Gradually, as he laid on the floor and you held him close, the color came back into his cheeks and he stopped holding onto your legs like the room was about to take flight. When you sat him up against the wall, he was still a bit wobbly, but no longer looked like he was about to unload his stomach contents all over the room.

“How are you feeling now, H?” you asked softly, scanning his face for discomfort or distress as you dabbed the washcloth over his skin.

“’m okay,” he hiccuped back, “jus’ needed a cuddle.” He got exceptionally British when he got this drunk, his accent coming out in a barely distinguishable garble of tall vowels and dropped consonants, his tongue heavy in his mouth.

His eyes fluttered open and closed without rhythm as he looked at you, his light green eyes glazed over with a glassy shine, and his mouth hung open slightly, like he didn’t have the coordination to close it. His pink cheeks were flushed and his skin had a sweaty sheen. His head had rolled off too one side and rested on his shoulder, like his neck had given up on holding his head up, and his arms fell heavy at his sides.

You should have been at least slightly annoyed with him for acting like a college kid, drinking until he made himself sick. His behavior and subsequent need for you to take care of him should have gotten under your skin and caused a bit of anger to bubble up into your chest. But it didn’t. You were just taking care of your man.

“Do you still feel nauseous?”

“‘m a-ok, babay” he said, making himself giggle with his rhyme. His lips lazily curled up into a smile and he dragged a lazy arm up to give the “OK” symbol with his uncoordinated fingers, before the heavy limb dropped back down to the tile beneath him.

“Okay, funny man,” you began sarcastically, planning on instructing to drink the glass of water you had retrieved on your way up to the bathroom, when he cut you off.

“I am pretty funny, aren’t I?” you rolled your eyes but couldn’t hold back the loud belly laugh that fell past your lips. He took the glass from you and began to sip, a proud smirk never leaving his lips as he looked at you.

“You were a comedian in a past life.”

“I agree.”

You two were quiet for a bit, Harry drinking something other than tequila for the first time the entire night, and you just admiring him in silence. You let your hand crawl into his, interlocking your fingers together before bringing it up to your lips and pressing small kisses to each of his knuckles. It wasn’t long before his glass of water was finished and he crawled back into your arms, his back pressing to your chest with your arms wrapped securely around his shoulders. Your fingers ran through his still damp curls, initially just to push them up and away from his forehead and eyes, but continued when you heard the little happy mewls coming from him.

“Ya take such good care of me,” he said sloppily with a gentle tone, breaking through the bubble of silence you two had created together.

“I always will.” You pressed a gentle kiss to his salty forehead and settled back onto the hard wall behind you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

You hadn’t been together for long, with saying the “L” word still being pretty new, and still slightly foreign, to both of you. But you meant it when you said it, you loved him, and your body always filled with a blushing warmth when he said he loved you too.

You had met through work when you interviewed him for the magazine you worked at. From the moment you saw those dimples in real life, you were weak in the knees and enamored with him. You hadn’t been trying to flirt, it just happened. And before he left the office, you had a date planned for that Friday. That was 6 months ago now and they had been some of the happiest of your life.

“Will you marry me?”

The question left his lips in his absurdly difficult to understand drawl and it took you a moment to process what he said, but when you did your heart stopped.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him, because you did, but not now.

It was too soon. There was still too much for you to do together, too much still to learn about him, and too much for him to learn about you. You hadn’t even had a serious fight yet; you didn’t know how he dealt with conflict or how you would react to it. You didn’t live together; you didn’t know how your living habits would match up or if they would drive each other insane. You didn’t know how you would deal with him touring being away for so long.

There was just too much you didn't know.

“I will someday.” You spoke gently, trying hard not to hurt his currently fragile feelings. You were now holding his face tenderly, like if you held him steady and close, you could lessen the blow.

“So, no?” he looked up at you with his big puppy dog eyes, feeling guilt punch you in the gut.

“For now. Everything is just going so well right now, we don’t have to mess with it.”

“Jus’ wanna be with you forever,” he said softly and your heart began to melt. He was such a soft person, who felt everything so deeply and with so much emotion. He was a sap, and you loved him for it. You pulled him closer to your chest, pressing soft kisses to his temple.

“And you will be,” you breathed. “Forever will still be there down the line.”

“Why not now?” His lips held an adorable pout and you couldn’t stop yourself from pressing a kiss to them. He tasted awful, like tequila and sweat, but the kiss was loving and sweet as you tried to pour all your love for him into it.

“Because we still have to grow,” you watched the end of his mouth tick up, sure to make some sort of smartass comment about you both being grown already. “We have to grow together,” you finished.

“I guess so,” he mused softly.

“I promise that I will say ‘yes’ when we are ready someday.”

“Someday,” he repeated softly, feeling the words on his own lips. “I’m going to keep asking, ya know?” he smirked up at you, his smile and joking tone signalling that you hadn’t broken his heart, just bruised his ego a bit.

“That’s perfectly okay,” you sighed, a contagious smile finding its way to your own lips. “I’m going to keep saying ‘no’ until we’re ready, ya know?” you teased, using his own words against him.

“One day, I’ll make an honest woman outta ya when you let me.”

“One day.”

Thank you reading!! Reblogs/feedback mean the world!! 

[dreamkidddream]

Hey! Could I please request asmo meeting an mc who has always worn black baggy clothing ever since arriving to devildom, like literally never showing what their body looks like, until one day where the a/c broke and it is super hot that mc comes out wearing short shorts and a crop top and is ⌛️ please ?

Hey anon! I wasn’t sure if you wanted this as an actual fic or headcanons, so I decided to do headcanons! This got fluffy so I hope that was okay (I really can’t help it 🥺😔). Also, this turned a little bit into body positivity, so to my readers: love yourself and the skin that you’re in! Hope you enjoy!

Warning: it’s gets a little spicy towards the end, but no NSFW acts or NSFW in general is mentioned

Asmo with Hourglass Shaped!MC

So Asmo loves you regardless of whatever shape you are, we all know that

But he wished that you would let him play fashion designer with you! You only wore these dark and dreary clothes all the time, and he was absolutely positive that you would look just divine in some of his suggestions for you. Plus, it was nothing wrong with showing just a little bit of skin, he would know

He just knew that you were hiding something delicious underneath your clothes, and he would try to convince you to just let him have a little taste, a little sneak peek (but would never go on to the point of making you uncomfortable). He was dying to see you in something new (really he was dying to see your body in all of its glory, but he’ll take what he get), and the opportunity finally presented itself

After someone broke the house air conditioner (ie. Mammon and Levi), the temperature skyrocketed. The saying, “it’s hot as Hell” stayed true to its words. While the brothers were somewhat used to the heat (y’know, being demons and living in Hell and all), even it was starting to get a little uncomfortable for them

Asmo was already whining about his beautiful skin practically melting away at this point, and decided that he needed to complain to someone who can truly relate to his struggles and listen (ie. You)

Plus Lucifer was ready to just string him up with his other brothers if he uttered one more word

But luckily, he didn’t have to stray far, as he heard you descending down the stairs. “MC, can you believe what the heat is doing to my pores-”

He choked

Your legs were showing

Your stomach wasn’t covered

Your skin was actually showing

Oh my Diavolo, you were already attractive before, but this...oh my

Crop top and short shorts?? You were going to make him snap, MC.

Your thangs were thangin respectfully

The longer he took in your form, the more he felt himself losing control. Now Asmo is far from an animal, being one of the brothers that could actually control themselves when needed be. But he just wanted to devour you whole-

“Asmo, you okay? Earth to Asmo?”

“Why darling, why have you been hiding this from me so long?! But I can’t deny, this was more than worth the wait, I just wish this happened in my room, with you undress-“

“Asmo, no. It’s way too hot to be doing any of that.”

“But dear, I can easily find a way to cool you off. Especially now that you gifted me with this appetizing sight. You look just gorgeous MC. We have to take pictures to commemorate this moment! Can you imagine how quick we’ll be trending on Devilgram?!-”

“No way.”

“But whyyyyyy?”

“Because...it’s nothing. I just don’t think I should. It’s just my body, nothing special.”

NOTHING SPECIAL?!

WHERE YOU TWO LOOKING AT THE SAME THING???

It wasn’t that you necessarily hated yourself, but you didn’t want people to just like you because of how you look. You can admit that your body was looking pretty good, but you didn’t want to be ogled at like a piece of meat. It was bad enough in the human world , and you definitely didn’t want to risk it here around demons who were already hungry for humans

He was shocked. First you hid this treasure from him and the world (but mainly him) without any reason, and the way you were adamant about not taking any type of photos was mind boggling to him. You are STUNNING, MC. He can see that, his brothers can see it, so why can’t you?

Your shape is just far too enticing to hide anymore. And he was going to convince you of that. He took your hand and rushed to his room, making sure to close the door to keep any prying eyes away

He took your hands into his, looked into your eyes, and flashed you the most gentle smile to ever grace his face

“MC, don’t tell me that you’re ashamed of your body. You have no reason to be. You radiate so much beauty inside and out, it can be such a blinding sight. You’re beyond special, so let me show you just how special you are.”

He started to pepper kisses all on your face: on your cheeks, eyelashes, nose, lips, anywhere that his lips could catch. While doing so, he rubbed softly on your body, drawing random shapes on your hips, even moving to rub at your stomach. You quietly giggled at all of these sensations, trying to push him away tenderly, but he stayed put. Asmo was obviously quite the romantic, but you also been around long enough to know when he wasn’t putting on an act. Right now he wasn’t Asmodeus, the Avatar of Lust. Right now, he was Asmo, the brother who only wanted to be shown and given true love

You don’t know how long you two stayed like that in his room, but neither of you cared. Asmo finally got his wish to see your body (and man was he even more enamored with you now), and was he not disappointed one bit (not that he would ever be with you). You even went out of your way to take some of his suggestions (and I say this very lightly, as we know how Asmo’s “suggestions” can vary) and include them in your wardrobe

Either way, he was beyond happy, and he could tell that the new stylish choices and his pep talk kinda helped you too

Cause now he can do impromptu fashion shows (albeit in the comfort of his room) and admire your shape all in one! It’s a win win!

However, now that you were coming out of your shell more, and you didn’t show any discomfort towards him, he was definitely ready to show you why he has the title of the Avatar of Lust, and rightfully so

[gryffindors-weasley]

Late Nights, Early Mornings

Benedict Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: When you can’t sleep, Benedict will always be there.

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: none—fluff, kissing

A sigh left your lips as you rolled further onto your side, resting your head tiredly on Benedict’s shoulder. You weren’t entirely sure of the hour, it could have been late in the night or early in the morning. Either way, you could not sleep and that much was certain. You’ve got far too much energy to sleep, though you were far too tired to do anything else but to stay in the comfort of your bed and hope dreams find you. Your mind wasn’t active with anything important in particular—well, maybe a few things.

Your mind was bouncing between one trivial thought to the next in a restless loop, anywhere from the happenings of early that evening to the walk you wanted to take through the garden with Benedict the following day. It left you no other choice but to settle for sulking, to dance your fingertips across his chest as you so often did. Your touch was featherlight as you did just that, eyelids tauntingly heavy as you continued the absentminded action.

It was a rather tiresome night at Lady Danbury’s estate, the events she holds always proving to be extraordinarily exceptional in all aspects. Your feet ache from a night of dancing with your beau and his brothers, your mind exhausted from holding one too many conversations, some of which with people you’d never even met prior to that evening. Not only that, but the event itself was much too long after the first hour or so, and the fatigue settling upon you would very much agree with that statement. You were quite sure you would be sore once you get up for the morning.

Needless to say, there was ample reason for you to be fast asleep in that current moment, but your mind fervently says otherwise as you remain awake.

Admittedly, it was rather peaceful as you lay there. The warmth of the sheets juxtaposed with the breeze filtering in through the open windows sweeping across your skin—it felt entirely calming. With it brought the subtle sound of said breeze gusting through the leaves on the multitude of trees in the garden, the scent of flowers wafting in. Moonlight streamed in through the arched windows, weaving around the burgundy curtains draping around them and stretching across the hardwood floor.

It was a sight all too beautiful—a different kind of beauty than that of elegant gowns and finely tailored suits, of polished dancefloors and well practiced music. While you did enjoy the constructed beauty of the estate you could call your very own home, even the very room you currently reside within, it paled in comparison to the natural glamour all around you. The intricate gold detailing around each and every door frame, the meticulously painted portraits on the walls, the grand pianos and chandeliers; they were all nothing short of gorgeous you must say. But there was something utterly enamoring about the way the curtains swayed with the wind and stars that twinkled above you.

Your gaze flits to Benedict as you breathe out another sigh, a soft smile on your lips. You’re smiling at the way his hair sits in tousled tangles of dark brown curls, dipping freely over his forehead. It was never necessarily neat and managed to begin with, and the thought alone had you stifling a quiet laugh. You gaze at the way his lashes curl over the tops of his cheeks, and the bridge of his ever so kissable nose and the soft smattering of freckles that dance across it. Your attention focuses on the occasional tightening of his grip around your waist out of instinct should you stray too far from him, and the moments he wakes up briefly just to kiss your forehead before drifting off. It was a seemingly unbreakable habit, one that you adored so wholly. It is but a wonder how his love can be so delightfully dizzying, how he himself could be so wonderful. But he is.

You hadn’t known quite how long you’d been caught up in your own thinking, in your own admiring, but you had most certainly known of the hand enveloping your wrist and the soft laugh sounding in the otherwise quiet room. One that startled you only slightly.

“I can feel you staring, my love,” he states, the corner of his mouth quirking to a smile before he turns his head and peeks an eye open at you. “I’m afraid you’re not as discreet as you may think.”

You smile brightly, beamingly as you lean up and press a kiss to his cheek. He smiles in bliss at the action, eyes fluttering closed only briefly.

“Sorry,” you mumble quietly, fingers still swirling on his skin, “couldn’t sleep.”

He hums softly in acknowledgment, your words capturing his attention fully as he turned his head to look at you. His eyes take in your sleepy expression, your grin there and just for him nonetheless. “Perhaps you’d like to tell me why?”

You bit the inside of your cheek to fight your growing smile and your efforts were quickly proving to be futile the more you held his amused gaze. He knew you were up to something, you always were and he always knew just when that was. He could tell by the very smile that had been playing on your lips and the mischievous look filling your stare.

“My mind won’t seem to let me forget the way you’ve twirled me directly into the Queen herself this evening.”

There it was.

His tired laughter continued once more at your words and you couldn’t stifle your own a moment longer, nor did you hesitate to scrunch your nose in displeasure at his reaction. “And I suppose you think that is all my fault? Never mind your perpetual clumsiness, of course it couldn’t be that.”

His jesting words were spoken softly against your lips, his nose brushing against your own as he kisses you to silence your inevitable scoff. Your inevitable complaint for stating the obvious. You relax against him then, almost letting yourself become distracted. Truthfully, you had, it wasn’t hard to with the way your lips meld perfectly with one another. Or perhaps it was the way he smiled against them because of the sheer love in his heart for you before continuing with a kiss far too intoxicatingly gentle and sweet to ignore. The way the warmth of his palm pressed gently to your flushed cheek before sliding down your arm as it had moments before. But, with all the reluctance in the world you part from him, a teasing smile on your lips.

“Yes,” you start, nipping the very tip of his nose. “I very much do think so, my love. And I do believe you are just as clumsy as I am.”

“Am not!” He defends, propping himself up on his elbow, his blue stare now narrowed playfully at you as his hand never leaves your arm.

You scoff incredulously, trying not to be swayed by your desire to kiss him once more though you will admit it was rather hard to ignore. “Need I remind you of the incident at Somerset House?”

He squints down at you as you raise your brow in a silent challenge, lips kiss swollen and pursed as you wait for him to break. He could deny it all he so desires, but you knew for certain that he’d had more than enough clumsy encounters for the two of you. You narrowed your eyes the more moments that passed, still amused and still patiently waiting as the brunette just inches in front of you bit the inside of his cheek. He was so close his breath fanned across your lips.

“That table was deceiving,” He explains, causing you to tip your head back and your laughter to escape you without hesitation as he flops back next to you with a bounce. “How was I to know it’d topple over like that?”

Your teasing smile had soon dwindled to a soft one as he settled close to you, your laughter mingling in the air. His eyes nearly sparkle as he looked at you, his grin equally soft. “Regardless, you nearly knocked a rather expensive painting off the wall in your attempt to grab my hand and flee from the mess you’d created. How ever shall I forget that?”

Your voice is soft and spoken with the utmost of lighthearted teasing, a squeal leaving your lips when his hand moves from your wrist to envelop your own, tugging you swiftly to be impossibly closer to him. His smile is sleepy and fond, your joined hands coming to rest on his chest as his thumb brushes gingerly over the back of yours. It’s quiet for a few moments, your cheeks flushing over the sheer lovingness held in his gaze.

“I don’t believe you shall ever forget it, you love to tease me far too much on the matter,” he chuckles, though not an ounce of exasperation finds its way in his tone at the obvious fact that surely you will mention it again.

Your smile is beaming as you nudge his nose with your own, lips brushing over lips and breath fanning warmly and softly over skin. Your kiss is tender and fleeting before you drop your head to his chest with a quiet sigh, hiding your face in his neck. He joins your sigh, his fingers trailing up and down your spine in a delicate touch.

For a short while you took the moment to bask in the safety of his arms, in the rhythmic beat of his heart as your ear remained pressed upon his chest. Traces of his laughter still shake you ever so lightly, his lips pressing to the top of your head in a simple moment of affection. He knew no matter how much you joked about it, the events just a few hours prior still bothered you. Even if it’d been just a little bit. It was the Queen after all.

The silence may have been brief but he felt as if he should say something, anything. He knew he needed to.

“In all fairness, you must know that you look rather cute when you’re flustered,” he states. He smiles when he feels your otherwise quiet laughter puff against his neck.

You lift your head slightly, resting it on his shoulder to better see him. “Must I?”

He lets go of your hand to brush the hair out of your face, to brush his thumb across your cheek. He felt as though his heart nearly bursted in his chest with the way the moonlight glimmered over you, with the way it made your eyes shine brighter than any star. With the way you looked at him, a look that will always give him butterflies, that will always make him melt. He nods. “Yes, you must.”

The corner of your mouth quirks up at his words, and you blink at him tiredly. “She nearly spilled her lemonade on my dress, and she hadn’t looked very happy with me.”

“Do not worry, darling, I have smoothed things over. She loves me after all,” he says, the pad of his thumb moving from your cheek to sweep over your lip.

The roll of your eyes was expected, something bringing out the softest of laughs in him as he tilted your chin up and kissed you. “Then I must say I don’t blame her.”

He parted from your lips to kiss the very tip of your nose, to kiss your cheeks, your forehead, your jaw. Your laughter sounded by the time he made it back to your mouth, his forehead rested on yours as he relished in that very moment. Any bit of time he has with you, just the two of you—it’s time always cherished. Even if it’s you teasing him in good fun for his clumsy mistakes, and him hopelessly trying to deny such clumsy incidents. It’s all he’d ever need and it’s all he’d ever want.

“I think we should go back to sleep now, Y/n/n,” he murmurs, tugging the blankets back up.

You finally could agree on that statement, the fatigue of the day just catching up with you as you yawn. He tucked you close, his hand soon finding yours as he lays back against your pillow. The moment you’re comfortable, your joined hands rest on his chest once more, fingers entwining and legs tangling.

“I love you, Ben,” you whisper softly.

He smiles at the nickname, peering down to meet your sleepy gaze. You press one final kiss to his lips to further confirm your affections, the action wordless and fleeting before you let your head fall to his shoulder.

“I love you more,” he murmurs, the corner of his mouth tugging up in a lopsided smile.

He’d love you forever—in the late nights and the early mornings.

—

Tags: @dreaming-about-fanfictions @awritingtree @writeroutoftime @elennox03

[novamirmirsblog]

Romeo, Romeo wherefore art thou Romeo

YOU GUYS JUST SEND IN SUCH CUTE PROMPTS AND IT STOPS ME FROM WRITING ANGST BECAUSE THEY'RE SO DAMN LOVELY.

Enjoy! @avengers-wholesome Hopefully this is what you wanted! Also this was super fun to write so thank you so much for the request :3

Tag list: @d14n4ol

request: yes

Genre: Fluff 🙄 (Kidding - NATASHA DESERVES HAPPINESS)

word count: 707

Warnings: None

'Well in the spirit of graduation season this is the prompt: Peter (for extra credit) had to take theatre and is the understudy for Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. While at the Avengers Tower, he’s having a hard time memorizing the lines, and reader and Natasha and Tony witness it. So reader demonstrates how the balcony scene is done and tells Natasha to read the Juliet lines, while reader acts Romeo’s lines. The whole scene they become enamored and a spark is lit between them. Fast forward, The Avengers go to Peter’s high school graduation and are being that kind of family that is loud as hell when their kid gets called, especially Tony. Natasha and reader cheer and reader shouts “THATS OUR NEPHEW!” And as Natasha smiles, reader says “Hey, let’s face it: Tony is one second away from adopting him and Tony is like a brother to me, so that makes me his aunt. And because your my girlfriend, makes YOU his aunt!” (IM SO SORRY THIS GOT LONG!)'

YES. I mean let’s face it, Peter would totally do extra credit work. I feel like he would be the kind of student who’s super smart but because he’s all over the place, he never actually does very well.

- Peter often used the avengers as his own personal google. Tony would help with product design, Bruce would help with science, Natasha and Wanda with foreign languages and F.R.I.D.A.Y. with just about anything else

- You, however had a secret talent. Your parents had made you go to acting school when you were very young. There were only two people outside your parents who knew of your talent - Nat and Tony.

- Nat knew because, well, she's a spy and quote unquote 'it was vital she knew everything about you because you might have been a HYDRA spy.'

- Tony knew because he was the one who recruited you into the Avenger family once he saw one of your fight scenes when you were a part time stunt double.

- So when the two see Peter struggling with learning his lines for his extra credit work, their minds automatically go to you.

- 'Heyy Y/nnnnn"

- "What do you want Tony?"

- "Can't I just want to talk to you?"

- "No."

- "Y/n?"

-"Hey Natasha..."

- "Wait why does Natasha get a hey and I get a what?"

- "Because I like her more than you. She doesn't only come to me when she needs a favour."

- Natasha let Tony try to convince you to help Peter with his lines just for her own enjoyment. She then stepped in and you agreed.

- "Natasha come here, you can read Juliet's lines."

- You looked cute, your hair a little messy from trying to explain to Peter many times that it doesn't really matter if he understands what they're saying or not, he just has to read it.

- It's why Natasha took a little longer to reach you than it normally would have done, she was too busy watching you rather than actually listening.

- You start the scene "Wilt thou be gone? it is not yet near day..."

- "It was the lark, the herald of the morn, No nightingale: look, love, what envious streaks..."

- You both get wayyy more into it than you should have. Luckily, Peter just thought it was really good acting.

- Luckily there was no kissing in the scene. It would have been too much for either of you to deal with. Also kissing in front of Peter just felt... wrong...

- Something was started when the two of you performed that scene.

- Even though Natasha is a total top, you were the one who asked her out. You had a feeling that if you didn't do it then there would be much more pining than there should be. Life is too short to live pining after someone.

- Your first date out as an official couple was actually to Peter's play.

-Well technically it was drinks that were after the dinner that was after the play.

- He did amazingly (as you knew he would - he had put so much effort into learning his lines)

- You did have a backup plan in case he didn't learn his lines in time though.

- Plan B was Wanda using her mind powers to send Peter the lines.

- "Y/n, I can here you thinking"

- "WANDA GET OUT OF MY HEAD" (You respectfully whisper shouted this and Wanda whisper shouted back)

- "ONLY WHEN YOU ADMIT THAT MY POWERS DON'T WORK LIKE THAT."

- You loved Wanda but her powers were confusing and you could only focus on things for short bursts of time.

- Act 5, scene 3 had just ended and you guys were definitely cheering the loudest.

- Thor was literally asked by security to leave.

- "THAT'S OUR NEPHEW!" You screamed in Natasha's face as you jumped up and down.

- She smiled - not smirked - but really smiled, you had made her soft.

- “Hey, let’s face it: Tony is one second away from adopting him and Tony is like a brother to me, so that makes me his aunt. And because your my girlfriend, makes YOU his aunt!”

- Peter bounds over to the two of you and wraps you both in a bone-crushing hug.

- Natasha looks at you over Peter's head "Yeah, we're his aunts."

[ragsweas]

Hobbit Fic Rec List!

MODERN AU!

Hello! I always wanted to share a gigantic list of awesome works in Hobbit fanfic, but realized they are too many. So let's start small. A few modern AU that everybody has to read!

.......*.......

How to fall in love in 100 days by Kytanna

As their lives intertwine, Thorin, Bilbo, and their nephews learn the meaning of finding a family, love and the hard path towards healing. All, over the course of a hundred days.

A lovely piece with all the cuteness and fluff.

Softer Strokes by autisticalistair

Thorin is a well-known artist living a secluded life in the Swiss Alps. Bilbo is a former history professor living in a trauma rehabilitation centre after a devastating accident that took his parents lives. Through a mutual friend, Bilbo finds himself in Switzerland, and Thorin finds himself with company for the next few months, and neither of them are prepared for what that will bring.

I'll never say 'I love you' by JustReadingMaybeWriting

Bilbo is a veterinary student who one night saves the life a handsome but wounded man. Bilbo should have called an ambulance. If he had called an ambulance, he wouldn't be in this weird mess. He certainly wouldn't be falling in love with the man he saved, who can't seem to leave him alone.

This one's a bit dark, but I love it.

painted blind by nasri

The last time Bilbo stepped foot in Aberdeen it was with a broken heart and a bachelor’s degree. All things considered, this time isn’t so different.

Plan B by Drenagon

Plan B: an alternative strategy; a contingency plan, devised for an outcome other than the expected plan.

Or, sending an unqualified temp to act as Thorin Oakenshield's PA because no one qualified can put up with him.

(He'd say they can't meet his standards. Of course he would.)

Meet Bilbo Baggins. He just became Plan B.

One Modern!AU I always wanted to read and this is just it! It's amazing!! And the whole COmpany is there!!

A Land Far Away by Prollyaghost (Callmerin)

"If we were in a different time or place, this story may have begun with ‘once upon a time’, or even ‘In a hole in the ground, there lived…’ But as it so happens, we are in this time and place, in the outskirts of London, where there are no ‘once upon a times’ and the only holes in grounds lead to sewage tunnels. There does happen to be, however, a man who has dedicated a great deal of his life studying these ‘once upon a time’s. He is an English teacher, enjoys afternoon teas with homemade raisin scones, and he most certainly does not believe in fairy-tales.

His name is Bilbo Baggins, and that last bit about him is about to change."

Bilbo Baggins, an English teacher who has never been outside of England, suddenly finds himself thrust into an adventure when a strange man named Thorin Oakenshield requires his help to fulfil his father’s dying wish. Turns out studying the niche topic of the ancient, fictional society of dwarves was more useful than his parents could have imagined. Plunged into a forgotten land, Thorin and Bilbo must find the mythical Arkenstone, before the legends of the past come back to haunt modern society.

Okay, this one's a WIP, but damn the premise is super interesting and honestly can't wait for the next update!

Nothing Gold Can Stay by perkynurples

Bilbo Baggins led a rather peaceful life, thank you very much, until an old acquaintance decided to turn it upside down, and he found himself agreeing to take a job that’s… let’s say not exactly up his alley, and might eventually cost him a little more than his treasured cozy lifestyle. Who would have thought tutoring a slightly menacing monarch’s more than slightly overbearing nephew could prove to be such an adventure?

This is one of the fics that does not need an introduction. No matter how many times you read this, it isn't enough. And we all love Fili and Kili here.

What to do When Your Cat is an Asshole by lily_winterwood

“You have a cat?” asks the face on the screen. “Yes. His name’s Smaug, he’s orange, and he’s an asshole. Aren’t you, Smaug?” Surly Food Provider glowers at me, which, of course, I am immune to. “Aren’t you a little asshole?” I don’t see why he needs to call me that. My butthole is perfectly licked, and it smells wonderful.

The AU where Smaug is Thorin's asshole cat. Written for the Bagginshield Unexpected Anniversary.

This one's small, and hilarious and even better if you imagine Benedryl Cucumbersnatch narrating the whole thing

No Ordinary Love by badskippy

Bilbo and Ori have been best friends since they were ten years old and tragedy brought them together. Now, a new job, a sudden rainstorm, a chance meeting and budding romance with a burly, handsome stranger will not only alter their lives, but set in motion events that will change everyone around them, and reveal how lies, deceit and assumptions can leave deeper scars than the ones that can be seen.

WIP, unfinished, but damn was this an interesting tale. For anybody who loves angst, go give it a read!

Remember Me by thehistorygeek

Bilbo Baggins and Thorin Oakenshield are destined to suffer. In every life they live, in every age, in every era, they meet, and this meeting brings back all the memories of the lives that have come before. But every meeting serves also as a death sentence, for once they have met, one of them is doomed to die soon after, usually tragically and prematurely. They remember nothing of their past lives until they meet, and once they have there is nothing that can be done to stop their fate.

For anyone obsessed with Reincarnation and/or History, this is it.

A Remover of Obstacles by MistakenMagic

"Dis often chided her older brother for being a misanthropist. She did it so often it had become a term of endearment. It was true that Thorin struggled with people; he struggled to form and maintain relationships. Dr. Grey had diagnosed him with this and Thorin hadn’t the heart to tell him this wasn’t a symptom of his PTSD, it was a symptom of his personality. He exercised a sense of apathy with almost everyone he met… But Bilbo was different. Thorin actually found himself wanting to know more about him."

Another fic that DOES NOT need an introduction. I have read it thrice and every time the emotions are still the same. Trigger Warnings, but damn this is all worth it.

An Unexpected Meeting by what_am_i_even_doing_tho

This is the chronicling of the modern day shenanigans of Bilbo Baggins, who is an absolute gay disaster, and Thorin Oakenshield, who is unashamedly enamored. Aka, the modern Bagginshield AU that no one ever asked for but they're getting anyway.

green and gilded by nasri

The next time he visits his parents there are flowers left in the grass, pressed back against the gravestone. They are yellow and white daffodils, plain and wilting.

“Who’s been to see you?” He asks, taking a single photo of the flowers with their drooping stems and curled petals and the wet winter grass that surrounds them. His mother would call it kind, his father might say it's curious, and Bilbo takes another petal to tuck into his pocket.

You know those stories that you read once and then they never leave your head? And somehow your whole life begins to revolve around that one story? Yeah, this is it. Spoilers in tag and I would suggest you read before advancing cause many people do not like it, but even if you are not in that group, just give it a read. This story deserves all the reads.

Bran' New Suit by pibroch (littleblackdog)

Andrew's description had been sufficient to recognize him— a riot of honey brown curls, short in stature, a well-favoured face with expressive features— but it hadn't quite been enough to prepare Tom for the sharp, almost painful tug in his gut at the sight of the man. They had never met before, to the best of Tom's recollection, but there was something eerily and inexplicably familiar about him all the same.

One of the first Modern AU I read and dauym...you won't get it until the end but then...it's fun.

Under New Management by frostyjack

Fili's life is pretty good -- he's doing well at university, he gets on well with his uncle and guardian Thorin, and he's never likely to know what it's like to be poor or unwanted. Then Thorin takes in a foster child -- Kili Oakenshield, a long-lost relative whose past is a total mystery. Suddenly, Fili's life gets a whole lot more complicated. But maybe it gets better, too.

Lots of trigger warning for this one, but when the end comes, you'll know it's all been worth it.

One-Sided Conversations by northerntrash

"Thank you for listening," Thorin said, getting to his feet. "I hope to be able to return the favour, one day."

The man on the bed didn't respond, but since he'd been in a coma for longer than Thorin had known him, that wasn't entirely surprising.

(Not Quite) Prince Charming by manic_intent

The problem, Bilbo would later tell Gandalf in aggrieved irritation, was not so much the unannounced visitors, oh no, but the fact that due to the lateness of the hour and sheer merciless fate, it came to be that at the respectable age of forty, Bilbo was being introduced to a real, live king while wearing striped pyjamas and fluffy slippers.

The Making of a Story by northerntrash

When Bilbo finds a case of old family photographs, he becomes determined to find the original owners: what he does not expect is to become quite so involved in their lives, or that those photographs should prove quite so important.

Misunderstandings and other obstacles for love by ylc

This series dammit! It's amazing, and the dynamics you would ask from a Modern AU.

Candle Glow and Mistletoe by euseevius

Bilbo and Thorin have been married for six months now. The thing is, Thorin’s family doesn’t know this. And because pretending to be just friends for the three weeks you’re going to spend at the family cabin is so much easier than telling the truth, that is what they will do.

(Of course Bilbo has his own ideas of how believable it is for a grown man to bring a friend to spend Christmas with his family. That’s why they make a bet out of it.)

For days you need to just laugh at these two idiots.

The Lost Kingdom of Erebor by Twisted_Barbie

AU. The Lost Kingdom of Erebor is shrouded in myth, likened to the heavens and compared to Atlantis. Until an archaeological discovery unearths that which was lost and awakens the Mad King from his cursed eternal rest.

Not a happy ending, and mysterious and you need to give it a read. Just, do it. It will all be worth it.

Of Palaces and Ruins by livelongandgetiton

Slow burn. Bilbo Baggins is a half-baked archaeologist who has put his dreams of adventure on hold to teach secondary school. Thorin is the grandson of a politically powerful figure in the historically rich and deeply isolationist country of Erebor. When he flees conflict and corruption in Erebor to settle in London, he finds his hands full with two young boys. Gandalf meddles, and Bilbo signs on as a personal tutor for the boys in hopes of getting a foot in the door to archaeological work in Erebor. He soon discovers that Thorin is a tough nut to crack. As Bilbo takes care of the boys he and Thorin grow closer, and secrets about not just the brooding stranger, but the mysterious country and politics of Erebor begin to unravel. It turns out that Bilbo isn't leaving adventure behind, after all.

WIP, updating. JUST READ IT!!!

Write Me Down Easy by lucyraebrown

Bilbo Baggins, a simple man with a wish for something more than his life teaching high school English, is obsessed with a famous author by the pen-name Oakenshield. Although he knows the future is dim for his chances of finding out about the man behind his favorite book, it's reassuring to know someone has the same thoughts about the world.

WIP, updating. It's mostly fuff and happiness, so yesss...feed your inner Bagginshield!

Show Me My Silver Lining by BiSquared

Three years after the hostile takeover of his grandfather's record label by one DJ Smaug, lead singer Thorin Oakenshield is ready to give up on his dreams, even if his band isn't ready to give up on him. If Thorin can convince talent scout Bilbo Baggins to sign them, they might just have a fighting chance. Of course, this is the night when Thorin gets stage fright.

The music industry AU no one asked for.

Love-In-Idleness by perkynurples       

Taking Bilbo Baggins, a successful movie actor who is only just getting used to the perks and intricacies of becoming A Face People Want To See, and putting him together with Thorin Oakenshield, with his very traditional (read: slightly backwards) ideas about what constitutes Real Art and Real Talent, might very well be viewed as just some clothead’s idea of a joke. But there are jokes, and then there are carefully calculated risks the size of controversial reproductions of classic Shakespearean plays - for Bilbo, it is the chance of a lifetime to prove himself to all those who have ever deemed him too one-dimensional to even attempt stage, while Thorin has the opportunity to get out of the rut that’s been hindering his career for so long now, and shine in a role worthy of his talent once again. That is if the two learn how to share the same space for more than ten minutes without wanting to tear each other’s hair out. The course of true love never did run smooth, after all…

Did I read this in one go? Yes I did. Did I fall in love with Bagginshiled all over again? Yes I did.

.......*.......

And that's the list folks! I hope you guys have fun reading all of these nice fics! (And all the bagginshield angst/fuff)

[sunshineseguin]

take me back to the night we met || mat barzal

pairing: mathew barzal x fem!reader

summary: months after the end of your relationship, mathew still struggles to come to terms with losing you. he sees you everywhere and in everything he does. what sticks with him the most is the night you met.

warnings: break-up angst, alcohol consumption, mentions of anxiety & a near panic attack, swearing, mentions of sex (nothing graphic), possible grammatical errors, flashbacks are in italics!!

word count: 6,371

author’s note: i wrote this fic inspired by the song ‘the night we met’ by lord huron so i definitely recommend listening while reading! i wrote this fic as a standalone and don’t plan on writing a second part. feedback is always appreciated, i read everything even if you put it in the tags.

check out my players list & prompt list if you’d like!

Mathew knew it wasn’t a good idea to go out, especially on a Sunday night with an early practice in the morning. The season was about to start and he knew he had every reason to be just as amped up about it as his teammates. He should be cheering with them and drinking beers carelessly like he wouldn’t regret it in the morning. Yet, he couldn’t. The regret that he was already carrying on his shoulders was enough to last him a lifetime. Instead, he was gulping down whiskey on the rocks like it was water and he was stranded in the Sahara Desert, wallowing in his own self pity as he had been for months.

He felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and glanced up at Anthony who gave it a squeeze. The blonde smiled, but it was one of sympathy, his bright blue eyes swimming with concern for his best friend. Mathew almost scoffs.

“How ya doin’, man?” Anthony asks and glances towards Anders who’s watching them both closely.

The raven haired male simply shrugged half heartedly in response. He knew his captain was worried about him, the whole team was for that matter. He hadn’t been right for a while and nearly closed himself off completely. He didn’t join in on the playful chirps at morning skate or reply to Anthony’s invites of golf with the boys. He didn’t go to the team cookouts. He barely mustered a reply when Trotz was ripping into him for being so unfocused. The guys were starting to realize they only ever saw him on the ice or drowning himself in the hard stuff at the bar. He was a walking shell of the man he had been a year ago.

“What happened, Barzy?” Anthony sighed, moving to stand in front of his friend so that he could meet his eyes. “We can’t help you if we don’t know what’s going on.”

Mathew saw a notification pop up on his phone that his Uber was approaching, giving himself the perfect opportunity to get out of his best friend’s inevitable interrogation. He knew the team was only going to let this go on for so much longer before sitting him down and making him talk about his feelings. He was already dreading all of the things Anders had to say but hadn’t yet. He tossed back the last of the amber liquid in his glass, not even feeling it burn its way down his throat with the amount he’d already consumed that night. He stood from his stool, a bit unsteady on his feet as he pats Anthony on the shoulder leaves him with few words before heading out.

“It doesn’t matter. You can’t help me.”

The bar was definitely over what capacity should allow that night. The bar was swarmed as people shouted their drink orders at the poor bartenders who were scurrying around like mice. Patrons were spilling out onto the dance floor, packed in like sardines to the point that you could hardly move. You pushed yourself through the crowd, muttering worthless apologies to people who weren’t even listening as you desperately searched for your friends. You’d lost them over twenty minutes ago and had lost all hope in finding them.

You were starting to feel claustrophobic amidst the sweaty bodies pressed against you, chest growing tight the longer you spent in the crowd. It felt like the walls were beginning to close in on you as your head grew fuzzy. The Long Island Iced Teas you’d been consuming since you got there three hours ago certainly didn’t help. You forced your way through the crowd and to the exit of the bar, shoving people who wouldn’t move as you tried to get air into your lungs.

You stumbled out of the doors to the bar, ignoring the odd looks people heading inside sent you. Your knees felt weak as you braced yourself against the wall. Hand shaking, you pressed it to your chest to feel that your heart was rapidly pounding away. You closed your eyes and did all you could to focus on your breathing and get yourself to calm down. You hadn’t had a panic attack in some time, sophomore year of college the last you could recall, having learned what triggered them and how to keep the panic from overcoming you.

Mathew was standing farther down, away from the never ending flow of people coming and going from the bar’s entrance. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared out at the street with a scowl. He and Anthony were supposed to be leaving together, walking back to their shared apartment building a few blocks away. The blonde male had been busy when Mat stepped out, chatting away with some pretty redhead who’d caught his eye early in the night. He was about ready to make the walk by himself if his friend didn’t show himself in the next five minutes.

He saw you out of the corner of his eye, alone and trembling without so much as a jacket. He looked around to see if anyone you might know was near, but no one was paying you any mind. He was overcome with a sense of worry as he stared at you, not knowing if some sleazebag slipped something in your drink or if you had some kind of medical condition. He found himself moving closer to you and asking, “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just-” you stated breathlessly, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “I just need a second.”

You stood there for another moment until you had yourself composed, finally standing up straight when it didn’t feel like your knees would give out anymore. You weren’t expecting to open your eyes and find the person attached to the voice that just spoke to you still standing there. His hazel eyes were filled with worry as they flickered over your frame. You were too busy gawking to notice his genuine concern.

“Did something happen in there? Do you need me to call someone?” the handsome stranger asked, his gaze finally settling on yours.

“N-No,” you stuttered sheepishly, clearing your throat and blinking quickly as if that would make the nervousness go away. “It’s lame, actually, I lost my friends and… The crowd was a bit much.”

Mathew’s shoulders visibly relaxed when he knew something traumatic hadn’t happened and a laugh passed through his lips. He offered you a smile and replied, “Yeah, that is kind of lame.”

You scoffed playfully and rolled your eyes, feeling your face heat up slightly. He laughed again and shook his head a bit, saying, “I kid, I kid. This place does get pretty rowdy on the weekends.”

“Not to be completely cheesy but, I take it you come here often?” you asked with a smile, wrapping your arms around your middle as the cool New York air started to seep into your skin. The adrenaline from your near panic attack had kept you from realizing how cold it was out and you’d left your jacket inside at your table. Hopefully one of your friends would grab it despite the drunken escapades they were partaking in.

“Pretty often, yeah,” Mathew grinned at the question. He was sure you hadn’t intended to use it as a pickup line, yet he found himself hoping there was genuine interest laced behind your words.

He shrugged off his black bomber jacket when he noticed you shivering and held it out to you. As you opened your mouth to protest, the look on his face told you that he wasn’t taking no for an answer. So you took the item from his hands and slipped in on with a gracious ‘thank you’ once you were swallowed in its warmth.

“I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Mat,” he replied while shoving his hands in the front pockets of his jeans.

It was silent for a moment between you, neither knowing exactly what to say. Mathew didn’t know if you were intending to head back inside and enjoy your night. While he was more than ready to go home ten minutes ago, he was now enamored by you, and wanted to do anything to stay in your presence. Usually, he was quick witted and able to charm a girl with a few simple words. In front of you he was drawing a blank, afraid of saying the wrong thing and scaring you off.

Seeing you shyly toy with the ends of his sleeve, a nervous smile curling on your lips as you looked at his feet had a surge of confidence flowing through him. He offered, “Would you want to grab a coffee? I know a place that makes the best homemade crepes.”

The memory hit Mathew like a freight train as he stepped out of the doors of the bar. He was left staring at the wall, at the very spot he spoke to you for the first time. He couldn’t feel the dull ache in his chest, having numbed himself with whiskey that was far too expensive. He turned to walk down to the street to wait for his Uber, but stopped short as he caught a glimpse of a woman walking by.

His eyebrows furrowed as he stared after her. It was as if time slowed down, everything moving in slow motion but her. Everything was as he remembered from that night. The way her hair was styled, the dress that stopped halfway down her thighs, the heels that echoed in his head with each step she took. What shook him to his core the most was the jacket sported on her shoulders. From the night he first gave it to her, she would always steal it, claiming it looked better with most of her outfits than his own. He never argued, because he agreed, and he would never turn down a chance to see her in his clothes. It was you — unmistakably you.

Mathew’s feet started moving on their own accord behind you. It was like you were running away, until he realized it was him who was moving in slow motion with the people around him. The streets were bustling with people of all likes, experiencing the enticing New York nightlife. He was weaving through the crowd, calling out your name, desperate, broken and begging you to put back together the pieces of his broken heart.

You kept walking and Mathew was trying his hardest to catch up, but was like with each step he took his feet were growing heavier and heavier. He let out a strangled, frustrated cry as he yelled out your name once more. Suddenly, he was knocked to the side, stumbling over his own feet and nearly falling into the street. He turned to look at the man who just rammed into him carelessly.

“Watch where you’re going, you prick!” he shouted after the man who paid him no mind, receiving a few dirty looks from others.

It was then that he realized everyone was moving in real time again. His breath hitched in his throat as he spun to search for you in the crowd. You were gone. Deep down, he knew you had never been there in the first place. His mind was playing another dirty little trick on him, as it did so often the last few months. His guilty subconscious tormented him with images of you, making him watch you slip away time and time again. The hollow feeling deep within him only grew with every hallucination.

He turned his attention to the building he’d found himself in front of, and if the visions of you weren’t already torture enough, the universe had just thrown something else into the mix. Yet, he found himself making his way up to the door, the bell chiming above his head as he entered the quant diner. He takes a glance around, seeing an old couple at a table on one side of the building and a man by himself at the bartop, a laptop open and headphones in as he had a quiet conversation on what Mathew assumed was a Zoom or FaceTime call. He drops his head and walks to the familiar corner booth then slides into the seat and cancels his Uber.

A moment later, the waitress approaches the table. Mathew meets her eyes and embarrassment floods through him as he takes note of her sympathetic smile. He’s seen the smile a thousand times now from anyone who had an inkling of what he’d been going through.

“Coffee?” she asked softly, knowing the answer before he could even muster a nod.

You slide into the booth, sighing in content as the warmth from the building seeps into your bones. Mathew slides in across from you and the two of you share a shy smile as you meet eyes. Never before had he been so nervous to take a girl out. Maybe it was because you weren’t like the others. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him the first chance you got. You didn’t seem to know who he was or his status in the social hierarchy of the people in Long Island. It was refreshing and terrifying all at the same time.

You both look up as the waitress walks over with a bright smile on her face and asks what you’d like to drink. “Coffee,” the two of you say at the same time. Mathew’s face visibly turns a light shade of pink, and in turn you feel a rush of heat traveling up your own neck. The waitress smiles knowingly.

“Cream, please,” you add.

As the waitress turns to Mathew he says, “Black is fine.”

It’s silent for a moment as you both wait for the waitress to return with your drinks. Your eyes are floating around the diner, taking in some of the unique decor and 80’s flare with a modern twist. Mathew watches you closely and decides he quite likes the way your eyes shine under the glow of the baby blue neon lights. He takes it upon himself to start pointing out some of the historical decor in the building. It’s your turn to admire him and how his eyes light up when he talks about something he finds exceptionally appealing. His lips are curled into a smile as he spouts off facts to you about each item he points out.

He pauses his rant about people not appreciating The Beatles enough when he sees you grinning at him. He smiles sheepishly and diverts his gaze to the steam rising out of the coffee mug just placed in front of him, asking, “What?”

“Nothin’,” you replied with a small shrug, smile never leaving your face. You stirred a splash of cream into your own coffee and quizzed, “I take it as you come here often too?”

Mathew felt his ears grow hot but he still managed to muster up a confident smirk and lifted his eyes to meet yours, “I said best homemade crepes didn’t I?”

“That you did.”

“I usually end up here after a night at the bar and I need to sober up. People say coffee doesn’t work but it sure feels like it,” he explained, “Plus, they serve breakfast twenty four hours.”

The way your eyes lit up when Mathew said that had butterflies fluttering in his stomach. He listened as you went on a rant about how breakfast was underrated and you’d kill for pancakes for dinner over a steak most nights. From there, the conversation between the two of you flowed effortlessly. You learned how the other liked their eggs cooked and what your drink of choice was. Your favorite colors and favorite scent of body wash. Being with Mathew made you feel as if you’d been sleeping all of these years and were just waking up. Never had you felt so drawn to someone in the way that you were to him, and him the same. Any other night, if he had met a girl in the fashion that he’d met you, he would have had you in and out of his apartment long ago. He wouldn’t be on his third coffee refill with a plate of perfectly cooked strawberry crepes in front of him.

Mathew learned that you hadn’t been in New York long. You’d moved about two months ago and had a fashion design internship with some fancy company he’d never heard of. You were looking to build your own empire in the business. With the way you exuded yourself now that you were comfortable with him and talked with so much passion about your dreams, he didn’t think you’d have any trouble. The drive you had to build a future for yourself wasn’t something he was used to hearing from the women he surrounded himself with.

The famous athlete, something you learned about him in between bites of food, was used to women throwing themselves at him and his teammates. Some of them were just looking to brag that they slept with an Islander, others had more devious intentions. They were after the money Mathew tried his hardest not to spend recklessly - the gifts he could potentially buy. Some wanted his last name, to be in with the WAGs and flaunt their relationship all over social media; to rub it in the face of others that she got what they so desperately wanted. It was part of the reason that he never exclusively dated, too afraid that there were ulterior motives behind sultry whispers and sly smirks.

The diner that had previously been significantly busy when the two of you got there had now cleared out completely. You and Mathew hadn’t realized how long you’d actually been there until you took note of the empty tables. Your waitress was standing in the corner against the wall, looking like she was mindlessly scrolling through Instagram while she waited for you to leave. You and the Centerman had been so lost in each other that you hadn’t realized hours had passed and it was nearly two in the morning.

“I guess we should get out of here, huh?” you asked, hoping the gorgeous man in front of you picked up on the suggestive tone of your voice.

It didn’t seem like he did though with the way his shoulders slumped and he mumbled, “Yeah, I guess we should.”

As Mathew fished his wallet out, he felt you gaze burning into him. You weren’t ready for the night to end and you were hoping he was thinking the same. He looked up and locked eyes with you, holding the stare as you raised a singular eyebrow and a coy smile curled on your lips. Realization crossed the chiselled features of his face and he gave you a smirk before throwing down a good amount of cash on the table. He slid out of the booth and held his hand out to you, giving you a small bow as if you were royalty.

“M’lady?”

Mathew chokes on the very breath in his lungs, his eyes burning as he stared down at the cold, untouched mug of coffee in front of him. It’s no longer black, now a light chestnut color but the splash of cream he’d subconsciously added to it. He had picked that up from you because ‘only psychopaths drink black coffee, babe’. He switched back of course. This was the first time he let himself slip up and fall back into a habit that used to be so comfortable with you.

He swallows thickly and stuffs a generous amount of cash into the black checkbook, far more than what the coffee was worth. He pushes himself out of the booth and avoids the waitress’ eyes as she comes over to collect the payment. He can’t even muster a smile as he mumbles out a ‘thank you’ and exits the diner. Lori, the woman who always gave you the best service there, is left to sadly stare after him. She knows better than to ask what happened to the sweet girl who always used to accompany him.

Mathew walks a couple blocks down to his apartment building, trying not to remember how you’d clung to his arm. How your giggles echoed down the empty streets and your perfume swirled around him. When he closed his eyes he thought he could almost smell it, wondering if traces of you were lingering on the jacket hanging heavy on his shoulders. He still remembers how it felt to have your hands wrapped around his bicep and your hip bumping his as you walked pressed to his side. He enters his building and the feeling is gone as quickly as it came.

He walks into his dark apartment and thinks that it feels colder and colder every night that he comes home alone. He can’t help but take note of your missing pile of shoes by the door that he always used to chirp you for. He hangs his keys on the hook and his eyes linger on the empty spot beside it. He walks past the couch on the way to the bedroom and tries not to think about how bare it looks without the hoodies you used to steal from him littered about.

He strips into his boxers after brushing his teeth and climbs under the chilly sheets. He’s turned on his side, staring at the vacant spot beside him. He can see you there, messy hair splayed out around you and your face smiling back at him. He reaches out and grabs the pillow that used to be deemed yours, pulling it into his chest tightly. Your scent is long gone from the pillowcase, yet he still buries his nose into it and squeezes his eyes shut as if that will bring you back.

As he begins to drift off to sleep, his mind once again tortures him with visions of you. How you stumbled into his apartment the night you met as a mess of teeth and tongues fighting for dominance. You undressed each other on the way to the bedroom, clothes scattered across the floor. Your skin was hot against his as he laid you on his bed for the first time and worshiped every inch of your skin. He remembers your breathy moans in his ear as he filled you up and rocked into you, slow and deep. Your limbs were tangled as you came down from your highs, your head on his sticky chest as he ran his hand over the tangled hair on your head.

He remembers whispering, “I’ve never met anyone quite like you,” and you replying, “You’re something special, Mathew Barzal.” The two of you fell asleep like that, with Mathew thinking he could spend forever with you wrapped in his arms.

Mathew awoke the next morning with a pounding headache and a weight sitting heavy in his chest. He’s still clutching his pillow as he turns over and looks for you instinctively. When he’s once again faced with the empty space beside him, his heart drops. He flips onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. It’s the same everyday that he wakes up, replaying the day everything changed like a broken record in his head.

Your whirlwind romance with Mathew happened unexpectedly. While the two of you did click instantly, you certainly weren’t expecting it to be so serious so fast. He was a famous hockey player who was on the road most of the year. You thought, at most, you would be someone he called when he was home in New York because you were convenient. Instead, you got the fancy dinner dates and spontaneous trips to Philly when he played the Flyers. You got a bouquet of flowers at your door when he was off on a roadie. You got to meet Anthony and enjoy quiet nights in just drinking beers and mocking shitty reality TV. You had moved into his apartment almost completely after only four months without either of you really realizing — yet neither of you stopped it.

The relationship you had with Mathew was unique. It was something people dreamed of and hoped to find. You were Twin Flames; two halves of one soul that united. You fell for each other so hard and so fast it made you dizzy. Before you knew it, a year had passed. You’d completed your internship and your boyfriend was a rising star. You had built a strong foundation in New York and it was potentially where you could put down your roots and live out the rest of your life, yet you had bigger dreams and plans for yourself. Something you hadn’t been completely honest with Mathew about.

You were scared. Scared of the unknown complications and challenges you could face. The two of you had moved so fast you were having trouble differentiating between fantasy and reality — if this is really what you wanted. What if you settled down in New York and Mathew was traded to a different team across the country? What if he decided he didn’t want you anymore in a few weeks time, leaving you high and dry? What if you didn’t really love him and you were just convincing yourself that you did? These questions had been plaguing you for weeks, especially when he was away, and it was becoming too much. So you did the cowardly thing and you ran from it.

It was nearing the Stanley Cup playoffs and the Islanders were well on their way to securing a spot, so most of Mathew’s focus had been on hockey. It never bothered you because it was his career. It’s what he did for a living and what he loved, so how could you fault him for that? The roadies seemed to fall closer together and last a little longer. Mathew now knows that’s why he didn’t notice your things slowly disappearing from the apartment then, and he still beats himself up for not realizing that you were slipping away.

He’d been on one of those seemingly long roadies and his flight came in early that morning from Tampa Bay. While they came out victorious, the games had been rough and Mathew was sore. He couldn’t wait to decompress and cuddle up with you for the few days he had off until the next home game. As the Uber pulled up outside the building, he felt exhaustion overcoming him and wanted to sleep the rest of the day away.

He walked through the door, lugging his duffel bag and suitcase, a sigh leaving his lips at the fact that he was finally home again. The ease he felt was quickly replaced with panic and confusion when his eyes landed on the suitcases in the foyer. His blood ran cold in his veins as he dropped his bags and called out your name with a panicked tone. The apartment remains silent so he quickly makes his way to the bedroom, pushing the door open to find you sitting on the edge of the bed and staring out the window. His own rapid heartbeat is pounding in his ears as he pulls at his tie and moves towards you.

He drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, his eyes full of concern as he meets your tear filled ones. The pads of his fingers are rough and warm as he takes your hand in his own and whispers, “Why are your bags by the door, baby? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” your voice breaks as you reply, bottom lip wobbling before a sob wracks your body.

Mathew quickly pulls you into his chest, his hand cradling the back of your head as you cry into his game day suit. Dread fills his body, having never seen you so upset. His heart is in his throat and he feels as if he’s going to be physically ill. He holds you like that, kissing the side of your head and whispering words of affirmation until you can compose yourself. You pull back from him and wipe your wet cheeks but he keeps one hand on the side of your head and the other on your waist.

Then you drop the bomb on him.

You explain that your internship was never a permanent plan to stay in New York. You have a flight in four hours that leaves for Paris. A one way ticket taking you to the fashion capital of the world to start your career. You found a job opportunity so perfect that you’d be stupid to pass up. Mathew wants to be happy for you. He wants to jump for joy and celebrate with you, but you hid this from him. You did exactly what he was afraid of and shared with you within hours of your first meeting. He’s filled with disbelief and anger instead.

“This was your plan the whole time? You hid this from me the last year we’ve been together?” he exasperates, moving to his feet as he starts to pace the room and tug at his hair.

“Everything was so good with us I didn’t want to ruin it. I was going to tell you, Mat, I swear.”

“When?!” he shouts, feeling guilty for a moment when he sees you flinch, but the anger overpowers it. “Because it looks like to me you were just going to leave without so much as a goodbye!”

You shake your head, and squeeze your eyes shut, pressing the heels of your palms to your eyes as the tears start to well again. You argue, “I knew when your flight was coming in. I wouldn’t just leave you like that.”

“But you are. You are leaving me like that. You clearly have your mind made up about this and didn’t bother telling me,” he rebuttals, “You let me believe for a year that you were in this. I’ve given you one hundred percent, despite the hardships. What did you give me, huh? Fifty at best?”

You’re quiet, not wanting to admit that you hadn’t been all in on the relationship like him, even though you acted like it. Really, you’d had one foot out the door the whole time. Mathew’s voice shakes as he stares at you from across the room and says, “I love you. I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

A choked sob wracks through your body at his words and you cover your face with your hands. You knew he was in love with you, even the blind could see how head over heels Mathew Barzal was for you. He starts desperately rambling about how the two of you can make it work. Yes, long distance is hard, but he believes it’s worth it — believes you can love him like he loves you if you’ll take the risk. Why else would you have spent a year with him if some part of you didn’t think so? You put up with his relentless hockey schedule when you had every reason to walk away and live your life like the other twenty somethings you surround yourself with.

You disagree though. Long distance would only complicate things further. The different timezones would be unforgiving to your conflicting work schedules. Mathew often didn’t get long enough breaks to be able to fly out and see you and it be worth it. Plus, an international flight once a month, maybe more? It sounded like a good idea but eventually his wallet would suffer. You certainly couldn’t do it with the salary you were starting at, nor would you risk losing your job by unimportant travel to see a man. It was a negative and closed off way of looking at it on your part, but for both of your sake, it was best that way.

“It’s impossible…”

“It’s not impossible, you just don’t want to try!” Mathew yells, unable to care that his neighbors have more than likely heard every word of your argument.

“Mat, I have had the best year of my life here in New York. I’ve made memories that I could never in a million years forget. You are a part of that. I love you, God, do I fucking love you, but admit it. This was never meant to be long term. Not with the paths our lives are taking. We were never meant to last forever,” you stand from the bed and stare at him across the room, pleading with him to look at it from your perspective. You wanted to leave this in a good place, friends possibly, if he could accept what this was at face value. Two people who loved each other very much, but weren’t meant to be. The cliche ‘right people, wrong time’.

Mathew couldn’t though, he wouldn’t. He was blinded by a rage that he had never felt before. You had wasted his time — a year that he could’ve spent entertaining pretty girls who threw themselves at him for a quick fuck. Partying with his teammates and friends and reveling in his success that was only growing with every game he played. He finds himself wishing he had left you alone that night outside of the bar and just gone home. He lets the fury coursing through his veins take over, and with his fists shaking at his sides, he grits out in a low voice, “Get out.”

His words don’t shock you. You don’t know what other outcome you hoped would come from this. It doesn’t stop the stabbing pain that shoots through the center of your chest though. He won’t even look at you, hard gaze concentrated at your feet with his jaw set tight. You fight the urge to go to him. Wrap your arms around him and take it all back. Promise him you’ll stay even though you’d be sacrificing everything. It wasn’t fair to you, so you force your feet to carry you out of the bedroom and out of his front door for the last time. The sobs come once you’re in the elevator, then again in your friend’s (who was nice enough to give you a ride to the airport) car while they held you.

A few seconds after Mathew hears the front door shut, he’s tugging at his dark hair and letting out an agonizing shout. His breathing is ragged as he paces the room and debates running after you, but what would he say? The argument seemed final. You were set in your plan to take off to France and he couldn’t change your mind — he couldn’t make you stay. So he sat down on the edge of the bed and put his head in his hands. He squeezes his eyes shut and allows himself to feel the heartbreak, a guttural sob passing his lips.

Mathew closes his eyes and sucks a deep breath into his lungs as the memory fades. His heart is heavy in his chest as he reaches over and retrieves his phone from the bedside table. There’s a text from Anthony sent in the early hours of the morning, asking if he’d made it home safely. He doesn’t reply, instead opening the Instagram app and pulling up your profile.

His breath catches in his throat as he looks at your most recent picture. You changed your hair, a slightly different cut and a different color, but you’re just as breathtaking as he always thought you were. You’re sitting at a cafe with a cup of some fancy brew in front of you and the caption is in French, something about dreams coming true. Though, he’s not focused on some silly caption when he can’t take his eyes off of you. You look happy, wearing a smile he used to see when Anthony or one of your friends would sneak a picture of the two of you. Regret floods his body, the memory of the day you left still fresh in his mind. He thinks about liking the post just to tell you that he still loves you and he hasn’t forgotten about you. He exits out of the app before he allows himself to succumb to that urge.

He forces himself out of bed and into the shower before he’s late for practice. He mulls over in his head whether he should text you or not. He knows you more than likely won’t reply with how things ended all those months ago — now that you’ve moved on and you’re happy without him. He wishes he could too, yet he carries so much guilt for the things he said and allowing himself to have his heartbroken in the first place. He misses you like hell and the never ending visions of you plaguing his mind only makes it intensify.

Mathew heads to the rink in silence. He doesn’t speak to his teammates in the locker room and goes through the motions of practice in a daze. He’s not there completely and everyone can see it in his eyes. Anders is planning to pull him aside, Trotz insisting they have a talk and threatening to bench number thirteen until he gets his shit together. Mathew can tell. No one has tried to speak to him and Anthony keeps throwing him a side glance every few minutes. He prepares himself in the brief post-practice shower.

“Barzy, mind hanging back for a sec?” his captain asks as the other guys begin to filter out of the room.

He huffs out a sound of agreement while fishing his phone out of his duffel bag. His mom usually texts him a few times a week so he needs to let her know that he’ll give her a call later. He nearly drops the device as his eyes hone in on one message. Anders is talking but his heart is pounding so loudly in his ears he can’t hear him. He clicks on your name and feels every nerve in his body ignite at what the text message says.

I miss you. I’m coming home.

tagging the gc bc I love them @bricksatlandyswindow​ @butgilinsky​ @barzysthighs​ @babytkachuks​ @dmonchld​ @anxietyandtacos​ @sortagaysortahigh​ 

[shima-draws]

Hiro is here!! We've all been waiting for him!!

You know the drill by now, all the yummy details about his background are under the cut ;) Also be warned it is VERY long I went a little feral writing his backstory lmao

Hiro

Age: 17

Hair color: Orange

Eye color: Pink

Element: Psychic & Forest

Okay so a lot of this is gonna be stuff I'm pulling from posts I've already written to make it easier on myself and so I don't have to repeat anything.

Before he was born, the Novune Forces approached Hiro's parents because they knew that he would be born as a dual elemental. Part of their goal was to raise several dual type children to become human weapons--they targeted dual type babies specifically because they're said to be more powerful since they can use more than one elemental type.

It was the perfect opportunity for Hiro's parents because at the time they were not ready for a child despite agreeing that they were going to have it. Ofc the Forces did not reveal their plans so to them it turned into a nice surrogate parent situation where Hiro's mother would give birth to him and he'd immediately be given up for adoption afterwards. It was definitely hard for them to part with him but they trusted he'd be in good care. Well. That turned out great, as you can probably tell :')

Hiro, along with Kaz and Mallary, became the Forces' iconic trio, with Hiro considered to be the golden child and the most dangerous between the three of them because of his high intellect and skill in combat. He grew up under a very strict regimen and would spend hours each day dedicated to training both his mind and his elemental powers. He's an extremely gifted psychic elemental and took to his abilities almost immediately--he’s able to read his opponents movements and set up traps before they can even get to him. He’s usually airborne for most battles he’s in; he finds it easier to strategize from a higher vantage point, and he also just likes to float around and dodge enemy attacks and act like an ass lmao. He’s a pro at immobilizing his enemies so they can no longer move, ending his battles swiftly and cleanly. Physically he’s not very powerful so he uses a magic staff to fight. His intelligence more than makes up for his lack of super strength!

He has a special power like Kaz’s extra dragon typing (and, like Kaz, he has a streak in his hair from the experimentation)—Hiro gets visions of death, basically predictions of the future, and his visions are never wrong. He’s able to see who dies in battle and the Forces use this to their advantage so that they can prepare around any casualties. Hiro hates getting these visions because he doesn’t like seeing people die, he witnesses their last moments and it’s certainly traumatizing for him;; and like Kaz, this power was something he only unlocked through lots of experimentation on him, so he usually passes out for hours after getting a vision since it’s not a “natural” ability he was born with.

As for his second typing, it was something he never really clicked with. Forest elementals have to be very attuned to nature and are generally more kindhearted and gentle people, but since Hiro grew up in a base with only limited access to the outside (and because he’s forced into acting as an antagonist), his forest elemental powers were repressed over the years. He’s already powerful enough as a psychic elemental so he doesn’t feel the need to resort to a second power, especially since his superiors viewed his second typing as useless and he never received proper training on how to use it. He's already a huge threat as he is so they said good enough. The Forces believe that if something is useless, throw it away, so they eventually abandoned any hope of him succeeding in bettering his forest powers, and focused solely on enhancing his psychic abilities and making his death visions clearer.

Before Hiro became the cold-hearted and snarky colonel that the Forces know him as, he was actually a very kind child with an aversion to violence, and cried often. That got forced out of him pretty quickly though--he learned right away that disobedience means punishment and the only way to pay for his mistakes is by verbal and physical abuse. Poor baby :'( He and Kaz and Mallary go through a LOT of unfair shit as kids. The event that really drove home his intense determination and flawless record was the first mission he was ever sent out on.

This happened when he was around 13. Usually members of the Forces don't get to go out on solo missions unless they have a high position or are old enough to, but he was the exception because of his talent and because it was an experiment to see if he could handle it. His mission was to infiltrate a small, family run guild and basically gather intel and find out what their agenda was, as there were rumors they knew of some of the Forces’ plans. Upon Hiro’s arrival to the town where the guild was situated, he ends up rescuing the Guildmaster’s daughter, Lorelai, who is around his age. Unknowingly, he triggered his forest elemental powers, which caused them to land in a field of flowers he’d bloomed. Because of this, Lorelai starts to call him Flower, since he couldn’t come up with a codename in time and he doesn’t have a real name anyway lol

A couple weeks pass and Hiro spends more and more time with the guild, growing closer to Lorelai and being lulled into a false sense of security. He becomes extremely jealous of how the guild lives, and is very emotional at how much of a family they are, and how sweetly they treat him. Hiro starts to ponder over whether or not he should be sneaking around behind their back, when one day the guild is attacked while he’s out. When he returns, the village is set ablaze, and when Hiro demands what’s going on, his superior informs him that he was merely a decoy to get their defenses down, since apparently the Forces had definitive proof that they knew of their plans. His superior orders Hiro to search the village and kill anybody who was left.

Hiro, panicked, searches for Lorelai, and finds her hiding in the forest nearby. He apologizes to her and has a mental breakdown, blaming himself for all of her misfortune. Lorelai realizes that he’s being kept in the Forces against his will and begs him to run away with her. Hiro knows that he’ll be hunted down if he does, and Lorelai could get hurt, so he tells her he has to stay with them. In the midst of this, they are confronted with the current colonel of the Forces, who encourages Hiro to kill Lorelai. Hiro refuses, and the colonel calls him out for insubordination. The colonel then decides to kill both of them in order to get a promotion. Hiro leaps to defend both Lorelai and himself, and in the scuffle, receives the scar on his head, and accidentally kills the colonel. Traumatized, bloodied, and terrified, Lorelai is the one to apologize to him as he cries his eyes out. Hiro numbly reassures her and tells her to run while she can. Lorelai admits that she loves him and bids him farewell, hoping that they can meet again, and that she’s sorry she can’t do more for him.

This is when Hiro decides to become the perfect agent—dangerous, cruel, and flawless, so that something like this never happens again, and so that he can have enough power to make the decisions rather than just following orders to mindlessly kill people. From then on out he does what he’s told without any complaints and has a record for never failing a single mission the Forces have given to him. Any enemy considers him to be absolutely ruthless because he does not hesitate in battles and will neutralize with no questions asked. He’s a cocky little bastard around enemies lmao he loves to snark them and tease them. He’s strictly against killing after what happened to the colonel, so instead, if it’s a high risk operation, he erases the memories of his targets to reduce the threat. Because he’s so uncomfortable with the thought of death in general he reasons that losing your memories is better than dying, and that makes it easier on the Forces as well since they’ll leave less of a trail rather than just killing people left and right. 

Growing up, Hiro didn’t interact with Kaz very much, and they usually just saw each other in passing. However they both respect each other a great amount, and they sympathize with each other, being in the same sort of situation. Both the Hiro and Kaz hate their upbringing and hold a grudge against their superiors for their treatment and experimentation on them;; As for Mallary, Hiro became enamored with her because she reminds him a lot of Lorelai (who he later admits to being his first love). He finds her strength captivating and the way she doesn’t give a shit about other people’s opinions admirable. Hiro eventually falls prey to her manipulation and falls over himself to please her, which bothers Kaz because he knows Mallary’s just toying with him.

After the Forces’ plan to kidnap Ginni and use her as a hostage blows up in their face, Hiro finds out that Kaz had escaped with her, and commends him on the extremely smart decision to do so lol. He wonders if he should start considering leaving the Forces as well, seeing as he’s mature and responsible (and smart) enough to make it on his own. He’s ordered to retrieve Kaz which was a HUGE mistake on the Forces’ part because they didn’t realize Hiro’s loyalties lied more with people on the outside. Hiro meets up with Kaz and Kaz eventually convinces him to desert the Forces and work with him to stop their plans. Hiro agrees to work as a double agent for a while, leaking all of the Forces’ information to Kaz, Ginni, and the guild. In the midst of all this, Hiro meets Olivia, who pretty much calls dibs on him and she’s like “Listen Ginni got to give Kaz his name so can I give the colonel a name?? Please???” So she starts calling him Hiro! And finally baby boy smarts up and starts crushing on a girl that actually gives a damn about him and god dammit it’s the cutest fucking case of puppy love since Dusk/Nozomi. Hiro absolutely adores her, but he’s too nervous to actually do anything about it because he’s got huge abandonment issues (thanks again bad parenting! And Mallary!) and doesn’t want to ruin one of the only genuine friendships he’s ever had. But he is head over HEELS for Olivia and it’s so……softe.

Mallary finds out that Hiro’s acting as a spy, and retaliates. Hiro realizes just how awfully she’s treated him and defeats her, allowing him to escape and officially join up with the guild.

After that it’s a whole bunch of crazy action stuff as plans come together and they get to take down the Forces. Hiro falls harder and deeper for Olivia while she remains oblivious (at least, for a little while, until she finally starts noticing). He grows closer to Kaz and Ginni as well, and begins connecting with Kaz on a deep level because of their shared history. (They’re kind of like brothers, and Hiro considers him to be his best friend :’) )

Once the Forces are defeated, Hiro and Kaz both decide to go on a journey of self discovery in order to better themselves and learn more about the world they haven’t seen due to being locked up for so many years. Kaz and Ginni are already on the verge of forming a relationship, but with Olivia and Hiro it’s still tentative since she’s unsure and he still feels inadequate as a romantic partner. Olivia admits that she likes him and Hiro is so happy he’s ready to burst, but then he realizes it’s not the right time for them to be together so he gently rejects her. (Olivia takes this as an actual rejection tho not a “I’m not ready to be in a relationship with you yet tho I WANT to” and Ginni’s like YA’LL ARE SO DUMB I S2G).

Hiro and Kaz go their separate ways, and Hiro travels around for a while! He eventually settles in a lovely little village where he learns about his forest elemental powers and how to use them better. He’s finally able to connect with other people and essentially becomes way softer around the edges, revealing the true personality he had when he was a kid. A year or so passes and suddenly Kaz, Ginni and Olivia show up to reunite with him, and not long after that Hiro and Olivia FINALLY get together and start dating 😔👌 (Ginni: TOOK you look enough, god)

At some point the four of them go on a journey together and Hiro runs into his biological parents again…!! And he finds out he has a younger sister and they all reconnect and it’s SO EMOTIONAL

Other than that I think that’s all I have 🤔 Thanks for reading though this epic rollercoaster ride of a story plot lol!

Extra personality traits

-Hiro’s sarcasm and snarkiness is a defense mechanism to prevent anybody from seeing his vulnerable side, and also a way to trick the fear inside of him. Kaz is the one to point this out actually lol

-Despite that he does enjoy teasing people lightheartedly and being sassy, once he gets comfortable enough with them! There is a difference between his snarkiness towards enemies compared to that towards friends

-Is EXTREMELY loyal to the people he cares about. At first he tends to act prickly and kind of standoffish towards people he doesn’t know well. Over time he becomes more open to trusting others. Once you earn his trust and he deems you worthy of his friendship he instantly becomes softer and kinder haha, it’s like a switch

-Often dismisses people that he thinks aren’t worth his time or aren’t smart enough to hold an intelligent conversation with him

-Spends a lot of time reading and gathering knowledge. He is very book smart—but not very people smart :’D He and Kaz will spend hours in the guild’s library, since they’re both very thirsty for information outside of what they studied during their time in the Forces

-Touch starved as FUCK. He flips his shit every time somebody touches him in a friendly way, and will melt into a puddle if he gets hugged

-He can be very nosy and insensitive sometimes, prying into other people’s personal affairs if he thinks he can solve the issue

-Absolutely a tactics expert. He calculates all of his moves very carefully, and uses prediction tactics to leave no room for error. He enjoys coming up with mock battle situations to challenge himself.

-Very self-sacrificial;; he views the lives of those he cares about to be far more important than his own. He’ll lay his life on the line for his friends in an instant

-Is the person in the group who is the least fond of violence. If he can find a way around injuring someone, he’ll do it. He prefers to restrict his enemy’s movements or slow them down so they can’t fight back. He is VERY good at neutralizing opponents before they can even register it

-SUPER speedy. Due to his small size he’s very quick, most people don’t see him coming

-He’s really sensitive about his height fjmaksldmas he snaps at people who make fun of him for it

-Tends to levitate when he’s in deep thought. Olivia finds this very cute

-Blooms flowers when he’s happy/embarrassed

-He’s actually. A very talented dancer :0 During his year away from the guild he learned a lot of folk dances at the village he was living in, and when the others witness it they get really starstruck because it’s super mesmerizing!! He blooms flowers as he dances

-At his core he’s a very compassionate character!!

-After escaping from the Forces, he’s able to express his emotions more openly, and goes back to the way he was as a child. He’s a crybaby :’) He cries whenever someone he cares about gets hurt

-The only person in the group with the fucking brain cell, and the most rational one. Unless Olivia gets involved, then he gets stupid and flustered lmao