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#There is so much to be said of him but he'll speak in his own time!
acotarxreader · 21 hours
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Shadow and Flame pt 3
Azriel X Reader
Warnings: Angst, smut, miscommunications, mentions of burn.
A/N: Right, I haven't written smut in a very long time and I am very rusty so apologies in advance there 😂 the end of this segment I hope it's clear that both situations happen concurrently and that that comes across yikes! I'm still blown away by people's kind words and welcoming nature. Thank you so much loves! Part 4 loading
Part 1 Part 2
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You woke to the smell of cedar and mist replacing the smell of burned skin in your nose. You sighed gently, tempting your eyes to open. You reached to feel the softest silk beneath your hands. This sent fear through you. Where were you? You tried to will your body upright but insurmountable pain shattered through your bones. Your eyes peeled open, to stare up at a delicately painted ceiling, the stars of the night sky looking back at you. You reached for any flame you could find but none came to you, your own fire truly exhausted from the battle with your Father's. 
“Easy there YN” the female's voice stopped your movements, your eyes frantically searching for the source as she stepped out of the shadow.
“Hello, I'm Feyre, please be gentle with yourself you were ravaged” she said quietly and you hated it. Hated the pity. You knew of Feyre, you knew of her and your brother, what happened Under The Mountain and all the things that happened since but mostly you knew she was not an immediate threat unless threatened. 
“Where am I?” You rasped through your smokey throat. 
“Valeris, this is our home, Azriel brought you to us when you landed on the town house steps, we have healers round the clock for you, it won't be long until you're right again” you groaned, trying to move your body, pushing away the pain. 
“I need Lucien” you breathed
“Yes well….about him, he is kind of sort of not available at the moment”
“What?” You gently turned your head to get a look at the beautiful High Lady.
“Az won't allow him to darken the door. I'm sorry if this upsets you but we must let him work through it himself if we are ever to see them in the same room again” Feyre left out the part where Azriel had nearly torn the Prince of Foxes limb for limb, leaving him in his own state of disrepair.
“I have to go, I have to go back to Autumn, he'll come for me”
“Beron will not step another foot in this Court unless he fancies losing it. My mate is handling him as we speak” she spoke with such hatred in her voice for your Father. He had crossed into the territory unwelcomed, certainly ruffling the treaty but you were his to fetch. You knew he'd come back, treaty or not. You couldn't stay here and risk the vengeance. You couldn't stay here and risk them finding out your heritage. You pushed up slightly to sit and rest against the headboard, your skin screaming at you to stop. You glanced around the room lit by sunlight, no flame to be seen
“Feyre, I need fire”
“I think you've had enough of that” she laughed but stopped once she noticed your stony expression.
She cleared her throat before speaking again. “Az has instructed us to keep you from fire until you are rested, he said you're a flight risk, he didn't care to elaborate” she gave a small smile. 
“Azriel is not my keeper. I have to get to flame, it will help me to recover” she weighed up her options as you pleaded with your copper eyes. She moved slowly to the fireplace to retrieve a matchbox and tealight, figuring a small light was of minimal risk. Your eyes followed her hands as she drew the match backwards, watching and waiting for the relief the crackle of fire would bring. The match drew against the red phosphorus as you held your breath. A shadow quenches the flame before it could grow.
“Feyre” her head snapped to Azriel as he stood in the doorway, tea tray in hand. She looked at the Shadowsinger as if she was a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar. 
“I-she said she needs it to recover” he sighed at her before glancing straight to you, the words she said only resonating with him then, you were awake.
“YN, thank the Gods” he dashed to your side, putting the tray down. Feyre allowed a smirk to grow, dropping the matches at the end of the bed before seeing herself out of the room.
“Get me Lucien” his face twisted in anger at the sound of the name and that these were the first words you'd uttered to him in a week. 
“YN, please I know he is your love but-” your loud laugh cut him off, pressure releasing as your ribs shook.
“That is disgusting” you remarked with a smile to the confused Shadowsinger. You swallowed the laugh growing in you again, attempting to swing your legs to the side of the bed to have Azriels hand stop you in your tracks. 
“YN please you must rest”
“I must get out of here before Fa-Beron comes and burns this place to cinders”
“He wouldn't dare, what is it he wants with you?” You glanced down at your feet and back up to meet the hazel eyes. You must have looked like a nightmare, ash still in your hair, cracked skin screaming to be reconnected with itself and yet Azriel looked at you with pure kindness in his eyes. 
“He wants - I can't tell you what he wants but I should go to him before he comes to collect” you said smally. Azriel kneeled to the side of the bed to fall between your legs as they hung over the edge. His hands slid into yours as if they were always meant to be there. You watched the movement with such caution. This wasn't supposed to happen. You weren't supposed to be seen. You weren't supposed to want to be seen. 
“I will not hesitate to kill him where he stands should he cross the threshold of the Night Court without permission again” his eyes searched yours with determination.
“I want to trust you” he lowered his head to your hands at your response. Azriel almost painfully slowly raised your hands to his mouth to place the gentlest of kisses on your cracked skin. This sent tingles through your body, the lovingness of the gesture warmed you, soothing your exhausted internal blaze. 
“Then trust me” His words broke your heart, but you felt you trusted him as much as you trusted your father would come for you.
“Give me a flame” your eyes landed on the box of matches at the end of the bed. His eyes followed yours with trepidation. If your father was to come then you were not going to have him find you broken in a bed. 
“YN-”
“-If I am to trust you then you are to trust me, give me a flame to aid my recovery” your eyes scanned him from side to side, hoping to portray the genuineness you felt. He released your hands, reaching for the match box again.
He dragged a match from its cage and looked into your eyes as he struck it off the red phosphorus, bursting into life. Its glow illuminated the space between you both. You reached a shaky hand towards the flame, it almost stretching out to you in joy of being reunited.
Azriel watched in awe, never had he seen the elements behave in such a way for any ordinary Fae. But you weren't ordinary, you were of pure Autumn Court blood, the flame a friend of yours. Your finger made contact with the heat, Azriel tried not to cringe at the sound of the sizzle. You breathed the energy before diving in. You were pulled from the bed and deep within its heat. Azriel leapt to his feet at the now empty bed in front of him. He cursed out loud, he trusted you and you left. He wanted to help you and you left. He cared for you and you left. The match fizzled out. 
“Told you” he jumped on the spot as you stood from behind him, skin beginning to knit together again faster than any healer could work. Your loose nightdress flowed over the scars now melting back into your skin as you smiled at the Shadowsinger. He exhaled in relief, closing the distance between you.
“Did you think I'd gone?” he caught hold of your hands as you gave a small laugh at his surprised face. 
“I thought you had evaded my touch once again Flame” you tried to hide your blush at his new pet name for you, failing miserably. You felt yourself almost fall into the shrinking space between you both, Azriels shadows dancing with your flames around your feet, finding home in one another. 
“Who are you Flame?” It was hardly above a whisper.
“I-”
“-Excuse me!” Madjas sharp voice split you both apart. 
“Madja I was just-”
“-Leaving Lady YN to bed rest, as we had agreed” she raised an eyebrow as Azriel almost shrunk into himself like a bold school child. You let a little laugh leave you at the sight, until Madja landed her gaze on you and you hung your head almost in shame. She pointed to the bed with a slender finger, you went to protest but her heated stare told you otherwise as you slipped back into the sheets. 
∆***************∆
You sank into the medicated bath. Normally being submerged in water had you feeling ill but the myriad of lit candles surrounding you gave you comfort. Madja had ordered you to soak your stitching skin and you now feared her almost as much as your father so you obliged. 
You hummed gently as your eyes rested in the swimming pool-like bath that was flush with the floor. You wondered where Lucien was, how angry he'd be with you, how enraged he'd be at the sight of you and Azriel earlier. You couldn't help but smile at the discomfort you'd bring your sibling. You reached for the salve Madja instructed you to apply, it's cream-like consistency foaming on the grooves of your skin.
“YN I brought you- Fuck sorry!” Azriel shielded his eyes quickly while dropping the books he held in his hand. You moved deeper in the water, suddenly shy at his presence. He moved to gather the books still blocking his eyes, kicking one into the bubbling water. 
“Shit!” 
“Azriel just open your eyes before you end up in here with me” you laughed retrieving the book, its ink blending into the water. Azriel thought for a moment to keep his eyes closed, the possibility of ending up in there with you making the hair on his neck stand up in excitement. He opened his eyes cautiously to find you staring up at him through your lashes.
“Thank you for lighting the candles for me earlier, a lovely surprise” 
“You're welcome, anything you need” he gathered the books, shivers running through him at the sight of your body beneath the bubbles.
“Actually Azriel….nevermind”
“No, what is it? Tell me” You shrunk in on yourself slightly, your boldness leaving you. He wanted to stay there with you as long as he could, in any capacity. 
“It's just….I need to put this salve on my back and…I can't reach and Madja has gone home for the evening and-”
“Sure” he replied quickly, cursing himself internally at your smirk. 
Azriel lowered himself on his knees behind you, his wings balancing him from teetering over the edge. You passed the jar back to him over your shoulder, trying to keep your anticipation to a minimum, fixing your glance at the navy tiling. 
He hovered his shaking hand above your shoulder as it glistened from the water. Azriel every so gently rubbed the salve into your skin, it foaming on contact. You rolled your head back slightly at the feeling of the soothing balm on your cracked skin causing a breath of relief to leave you. Azriels eyes fell over your shoulder for a moment to glance at your chest, he mentally scolded himself immediately for stealing the glance, pulling his hand back.
“Are you okay?” You noticed the missing sensation straight away, you rolled to lie on your stomach, forearms across the rim of the bath, you looked up at the Shadowsinger on his knees above you.
“I-I’m not sure I've ever felt so okay before in my life Flame” his eyes were so lovingly looking at you with such true sincerity you'd never felt from someone before. You pushed up from the bath to your feet, your whole torso dripping in bubbles gleaming. Azriel swallowed the lump in his throat, he was now eye level with you as you reached for his hand and pulled him closer to you. He couldn't help but trace your whole body with his eyes, drinking you in. Your hand slipped around the back of his neck, pulling him up from his knees and forward to meet your lips. 
Inferno. Azriels whole body felt warm and secure as you kissed him deeply, his hands going to your waist. You shuddered a little bit at his cold hands meeting your wet sides.
“Sorry sorry did I hurt you?” he pulled back suddenly to your surprise. 
“Azriel do you intend on hurting me?”
“No”
“Then no, you didn't hurt me, it's just because I'm all….wet that your dry hand just…startled me” Azriel took a moment to think before a devilish smirk grew across his face, he stood and began to strip down in front of you. Your mouth dried out at the sight of him, your skin felt electric as he sank into the water alongside you. His hand grazed the side of your cheek, pulling you forward to meet him gently. 
“I-was-so-scared-when-I-found-you-on-the-steps” Azriel breathed out between kisses. You passed one of your legs over his lap beneath the water to straddle him, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss. 
“Were you looking for me?” You smiled into the kiss, his hands wrapping around you to pull you flush into him. 
“I think my whole life Flame” your heart sang at these words, your breath taken from you as he attached himself to your neck. You moaned at the feeling of his teeth nipping you, trailing down your neck to your chest. Azriel hardened beneath you even more at the sound. You leaned up slightly, running a hand down his chiselled chest to beneath the surface of the water to his lengthy member. 
“Fuuuck” he breathed at the feeling and you grinned. You slowly lowered yourself back down onto him, moaning loudly in his ear, your nails dug into his shoulders at the sensation. You adjusted to him between your legs, the flames of the candles growing wilder around the bath. 
“Are you going to set me on fire Flame?” Azriel groaned out as you began to bounce slightly on his length. He reattached to your neck to muffle his groans, failing massively. The both of you moved in unison, tension building building building. Azriels fingers gripped into your sides with burning pressure, the flames around you growing taller and taller with your tighting core until the whole bath was surrounded by a ring of your fire. If Azriel was honest with himself, he was a bit afraid of the growing towers of fire but he felt so easily lost in your moans he forgot the fear as soon as it came. You moaned his name so loudly you were sure they heard you in Summer Court, toppling Azriel over his own edge, the flame on the candles becoming small and still again at the release. 
You stayed on his lap for a moment, until he stood with you still in his arms. He passed through the bathroom doors into your adjacent room with your flames dancing around to dry you both before he placed you on the bed. 
“Flame, I have to see to something with Rhys but I will be back before you know it” you ran your hand gently down his cheek as he leaned and whispered those words from above you. 
“I'll be here”
“Do you promise?”
“Do you trust me?” He kissed your cheek in answering your question before retrieving his clothes and redressing. You allowed your eyes to fall close as he slipped out the door. 
********* 
You rolled over to find the bed empty alongside you still an hour or so later. You lifted yourself from the bed, dressing in a robe that Feyre had laid out for you. You wandered down the hall in search of Azriel. 
“I don't care Rhys, she stays!” You heard Azriels sharp tone from the other side of a large oak door. You couldn't help but stop and listen. 
“Az, she is not from the Court, she belongs to Autumn-”
“She belongs to no one” Azriel seethed.
“Brother, she brings a threat to our door. Lucien has told us she must go to Autumn, to Beron, it is beyond our control-” your breath hitched in your throat, had Lucien let the cat out of the bag?
“It is very much in your control Cass” 
“Beron has made it clear that he will help us in our efforts should we return YN” 
“She is not a political pawn!”
“She belongs to Beron, she must go back! I am not going to war for some female that landed on our doorstep! He wants you dead Azriel, I will not have you sacrificed for her!” Rhysands hands banged against the solid wood of his desk. 
You took a step back from the door again. They were going to send you back. Your Father would have you mangled for the embarrassment of having to be sent against your will back to him. You looked at the candles lighting the stairwell adjacent and with a deep breath you knew it was time to go before they took you kicking and screaming. But you didn't want to, you couldn't leave like this, couldn't leave Azriel. The rock of having him hurt because of you and the hard place of returning to a vengeful father is where you found yourself wedged firmly between. You ran from the stairwell to your room, head scrambling.
“I could have said the same when you barraged in on Tamlin and Feyres wedding!’
“Az!” Cass reprimanded Azriel with his eyes for his comments. 
“That was different Az, Feyre is my mate!”
“And what if YN is mine!?” The two were instantly silent to this. Azriel felt such strong and complex feelings towards you, such a magnetic force, the flame to his smoke.  A chill ran down his spine. Something was happening. The three Illyrians took an instinctive fighting stance.
“Y/N” your father stood in a circle of flame in your room, eerily calm with an outstretched hand. 
“Come home now and all will be forgiven” Berons eyes told a different story. He was boiling in anger, anger you knew Azriel would take the brunt of if you didn't go now and yet you hesitated, looking around the safe space Azriel had made for you. You went to speak, to defy, to scream but you were too slow, too weak still, Berons flame engulfed you and pulled you from where you stood. 
 ****
Azriel materialised into your room, the other two warriors searching for the source of their unease elsewhere in River House. 
“Flame, you wouldn't believe the- YN?” He materialised in your room to find it empty. He ran to the bathroom to find you gone from there as well, all the flames in the room doused out.
*******************
What do we think friends?
Tag list: @sunshineangel-reads @skylarkalchemist @tele86 @saltedcoffeescotch @impossibelle @quiettuba @thecraziestcrayon @fightmedraco
If you were forgotten please feel every right to give out to me
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thebestpumkin · 17 hours
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- title - happy birthday, chuuya!
- pairing - chuuya nakahara x reader
- character(s) mentioned - ogai mori
- word count - 566
- summary - celebrating your totally whipped boyfriend's birthday with him.
- tw - i'm pushing my soft chuuya agenda sorry, established relationship, alcohol mention, chuuya gets drunk and passes out, lmk if there are any to add!
- a/n at the bottom!
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Chuuya doesn't think he's ever felt quite so normal.
Human, even.
It's a wonder that all it took for him to feel this way is walking hand-in-hand with you, on your way home.
He thinks he likes that word. Home. It rolls off your tongue so easily as you pay the bill - despite his protests - "Let's go home, yeah?" And he's gotten used to it. He thinks he already found his home, in you - as corny as it sounds.
Nevertheless, he's taking you back to his place to celebrate, pressed to your side and babbling on meaninglessly about something or other concerning some new show he saw. And yet you're looking at him with so much love and adoration in your eyes, as if he hung every star up in the sky, as if what he's saying is something worth listening to.
He lets you into his lavish penthouse and watches as you sit down. You sit so comfortably on his couch, as if it was your own, as if this whole place was yours, too. In a way, it is, he thinks. You own his heart, why not everything else he has to his name? He brings out a bottle of wine and two glasses while you turn on the TV.
He's not sure when or how, but he ended up asleep in your arms while you were entirely focused on whatever show you'd put on his flatscreen. He'd likely gotten drunk, he realizes, looking out at the dark sky through his floor-to-ceiling windows. You didn't mind, having had to take care of him when he was off his ass more times than you could count on your fingers. He loved you for that.
He tries to stay up after that, boiling some gas station ramen he had stashed away. He spends the rest of the night slurping noodles with you while you try to catch him up on everything he missed while taking a nap - who knew a show could spring so much information on its audience within a couple episodes?
He keeps stealing glances at you and your attractive face. It's a wonder you've stayed with him, he thinks. A wonder that you love him just as much as he loves you. His breath hitches. You're beautiful. He knows that, already. But, for some reason, seeing your face lit up with the light of the screen and your eyes completely focused on the show he's given up on trying to understand...he leans forward and captures your lips in his. He doesn't know what else to do when you look like that. He loves you, so, so much.
And he spends his birthday that way - and he wouldn't have it any other way. He doesn't care what he does for his next birthday, as long as you're by his side. And, really, that applies to every single day. He couldn't care less if he had mountains of paperwork that Mori assigns to him, as long as you're there to encourage him. He wouldn't mind it if he had to go into a fight, as long as he could come home to you so you could kiss his hurting away. Everything would be okay as long as you were there at his side. He'll spend all his birthdays with you, hoping you'll love him even when he's gray and old, just because...it's you.
pumkin speaks: yeah, okay, i totally didn't write something for inosuke's birthday a few days ago, sue me. BUT i think i deserve a pat on the back for this one. this is that chuuya piece that i said i had the pretty sounding beginning for but no idea where to go from there, iykyk. i finished tokyo revengers btw! oh, and i'm watching wind breaker, too - i'm all caught up w it. and i'm on ep 7 of banana fish due to peer pressure from friends...ps wtf is that show its so...wow. anyway! thats all ive got, i think. sorry for continuing to push the soft chuuya agenda. i just cant imagine him being any other way if he were in love 😕😕 okay that's all. bye, happy scrolling!
likes, reblogs, requests, and feedback are vv appreciated! divider credits go to r0se-designs. thanks for reading, have a nice day!
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x-liv25-jamieswife · 22 hours
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Xan you pls so some nash sad headcanons?
of course<3. may be shorter than my other sad hcs cause i'm currently sick. i might make some more when i feel better. small, small trigger warning for suicidal thoughts, self harm, and tobias hawthorne. hope you enjoy!
he's obviously extremely protective of his brothers. so much that, when skye or tobias got mad at one of them, nash would convince them it was his fault so they wouldn't hurt his brothers' feelings
this is less of a head canon cause he mentioned this in tbh, but nash is convinced that everyone will someday leave him, and that he'll end up alone.
although tobias and skye hurt him a lot (verbally, they didn't hit him obviously), he had to pretend he was fine all of the time for his brothers. they thought he was a disappointment because he didn't act like a 'real' hawthorne. he didn't tell anyone.
the pressure he puts on himself sometimes becomes too much. so much that he's considered ending his life by jumping off of a bridge/overdosing on smth.
high school was extremely tough for him but no one knew. he felt like he had the world on his shoulders and couldn't speak to anyone about it. his grades would start going down (mind you, they were still great), and tobias would get mad at him. he'd try extra hard to succeed, and he did, but at the cost of his mental health
the reason why he has a savior complex is bc he wishes he could've saved his brothers from everything that tobias did to them. it became even worse after emily. he thinks it was his responsibility to warn them and help them. he know thinks he has to save everyone to make up for it.
nash thinks of himself as a complete failure. so much that sometimes simply looking in the mirror makes him cry.
this one will sound corny but he saves everyone but himself (he doesn't think he deserves to feel better)
he puts everyone's needs in front of his own. he sometimes doesn't eat, sleep, etc just to help his family. (he ended up in the hospital once cause he passed out due to malnutrition)
when nash was younger, he wanted his father in his life so badly he would go beg tobias to tell him his name. he wanted someone who would be there for him bc no one else was.
he used to think there was smth wrong with him bc he wasn't like his other brothers. at the same time, he knew it was partly bc he knew how messed up his grandfather was, but he still wished he could be like the others/accepted.
tobias used to tell him that he was extremely disappointed in him all the time. tobias wanted him to take care of more than he could take. tobias didn't actually care if it took everything out of nash, he just didn't want to take care of everyone else himself.
tobias used to hear him cry at night but didn't do shit to help him. he thought that nash had to toughen up (he was like 13)
nash doesn't like letting other people do things for him bc it makes him hate himself even more. he feels bad when people take on what he thinks is his responsibility. at the same time, it makes him cry cause it makes him feel loved.
he gets mad at himself bc he thinks he's overreacting all the time. he tells himself other people have it worse and that he has no right to complain when he has such a good life.
in high school, he was actually in some pretty sketchy friend group. they took drugs and stuff and got him into it. nash never got addicted, but he now takes drugs when everything becomes too much for him.
in my jamie head canons, i said that he hits punching bags until his hands start bleeding (and even that doesn't stop him sometimes). i think the same goes for nash. he wouldn't self harm in a way that made it obvious to himself that he was harming himself. he'd do it in 'subtle' ways that he could convince himself weren't self harm.
his hands are really messed up for multiple reasons. the boxing and the fact that whenever something goes wrong, he bites his nails and the skin around them.
(idk if this one is even possible, but i'm on the verge of falling asleep and want to finish this) when he fails to save someone, he'll stuff his head in a pillow/in his cowboy hat to cut off oxygen. it kind of brings him back to the present when he starts spiraling.
he has really bad anxiety and actually takes pills to deal with it. all of his responsibilities and stuff weigh him down a lot.
he does so much for others that when he got together with libby and she started doing things for him, he'd actually cry. she'd make him breakfast and he'd tell her it was too much.
he used to have trichotillomania (mental health condition that involves irresistible urges to pull out hair from your scalp, eyebrows, or other areas of your body). over time he got better, but sometimes it comes back when his anxiety is really bad.
he used to make his mom drawings and gifts in hope of getting her attention (she never cared). he used to think it was because his drawings weren't good enough, so he'd try again and again until he realized he was the problem.
nash personally blames himself for all of the pain tobias caused people (like lyra and stuff). for some reason, he thinks he should've stopped him somehow even though that's impossible.
he used to come home really scraped up because he'd get into fights for his brothers whenever someone was mean to them or hurt them. he has some permanent scars on his body bc of the fights, but he still thinks he should've done more.
whenever nash does something he deems 'wrong' he hears tobias' voice in his head telling him he's a failure.
a happy nash head canon to finish this off:
nash, as a kid, loved ducks. he would head to ponds to feed them, and he owned like 294810 books on ducks. he had tiny duck figurines in his bedroom (and still does). he used to make short videos about them and his little trips to the pond with his camera.
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yabakuboi · 18 hours
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A Truth Acknowledged
one time i made a post about regency omegaverse steddie and i found it again so here's a potential part one if the spirit compels me again i'll continue
The house has been quiet for many years now, so Steve is not unused to the stillness that's long settled over Harrington House. He much prefers it, even. At twenty and four years, unwed and without a mother or a tutor to tame him, Steve has grown as wild as his home has grown quiet, left often to his own company. Since his presentation, he's roamed the hills of Loch Nora to his pleasure, long days of solitude interrupted only when his father calls him to his side for some soiree or ball, where Steve is bid to perform as a proper omega should: to dance, to simper, to laugh, to sing—and sometimes, as improper, to be pulled into secluded rooms to be sampled.
It's the reparations to be paid for a thing like him to be born. Steve bears it best he can, knowing he'll return home to be left to his own again. Quiet house, green hills, a loneliness he is safe in.
Until, of course, his father's pockets grow too shallow. And it is time for Steve to perform once more.
Except this time, there's a new face in Harrington House.
"Stephen," his father calls, all false pleasantry and cheer. "I'd like you to come meet young Mister Munson. He is our new neighbor, he and his uncle are staying up at the Thompson estate for the summer."
"I see," Steve says, trying to gather his thoughts between the wool gathering in his head. No one has visited their home since Steve's presentation. "I... I'm very glad to meet your acquaintance, Mister Munson."
Mister Munson, with his round face and large eyes, seems to struggle just as much as Steve does. "J-Just Eddie—I mean, Edward is fine," he says, stumbling over his words. He has a thick accent, and the air of a man learning to speak with the same pomp and confidence as Steve's father. "A pleasure to meet you, as well."
"I thought you might like to show Mister Edward the garden," his father says. He looks at Steve with cold calculation, and Steve feels himself being weighed and priced where he stands.
"Of course," Steve says, dipping his head.
Though Mister Edward doesn't offer his arm, Steve still takes it, hooking their elbows together as Mister Edward fumbles himself into a more proper position. Steve does it smoothly though, and gently pulls Mister Edward out into the sunlight.
He can't help but notice that the two relax minutely once they're out from his father's direct eye. Mister Edward does stay overly stiff though, as Steve leads them along the overgrown garden path, and when he looks up, Steve has to smother a smile to find Mister Edward's face pink across his nose and cheeks, all the way to his ears.
"You must forgive us, Mister Edward," Steve says, his voice soft and intimate. "The two of us are unused to visitors this far into the country."
"Nothing to forgive. If anything, please forgive me," he says, unsure and awkward. "I don't— Is it proper for me to be alone with you?"
Steve truly must fight the smile from his face. "Shall be frank with you, Mister Edward?"
"God, please," Edward breathes, a man out of his depth. "I'm not used to the ways you rich folk talk about nothing but actually say a whole lot."
Laughing, Steve jostles the two of them a little, glad he's gotten Mister Edward to relax enough to speak plainly. "Don't worry, I will translate for you, best I can," he says. Probably a little foolishly. Steve's having his first conversation with the man and already hoping to hang on his arm long enough have more.
Yet, it's worth it, because Edward turns to him with a smile on his face like Steve's handed him a Christmas miracle. "Will you, now?" he asks, a giddy grin crawling his face. "Well tell it to me, pretty thing, why in the world did your fancy father invite a ruffian like me here to meet someone as sweet as you?"
Steve feels himself pinken. Alphas of all types have said many a crude thing to him, but this earnest flirting easily turns Steve's head. What a foolish omega he is.
"I'm sure my father means for us to court and marry."
"My god! Are you sure? Is he mad?" Mister Edward gapes at him. "A proper noble like you married to me?"
Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. Proper. How silly!
"A proper noble like me is still an omega, and a man at that. I'm not a suitable pick to bear heirs," Steve tells him. "He's after your money."
"What money?" Edward laughs. Like his strings have been cut, Edward relaxes against him, his gait a swaying thing, pulling Steve along as they bump together along their ill-given journey. "I don't have a cent to me! It's all my uncle's, you know. He never married, and then my mother wrote him when I came of age and shipped me off to be his heir for a sack of coins. I grew up in London, working in factories."
He lifts his right hand to Steve, showing where two of his fingers are part missing at the first knuckle.
"I was born a roughneck, Stevie," he says, not looking at Steve anymore. Steve should scold him for being so familiar, but instead he finds he likes it. "Born poor and starving. My uncle can dress me up and give me all kinds of lessons, but I'll always be what I was born."
"Well," Steve says, shocked to find himself a little breathless. He watches Edward's profile for a moment longer, watching the unease settling on that handsome brow, twist in his mouth. "It seems we match rather well then, don't you think?"
Edward—Eddie turns to him with wide eyes. "Are you mad?" he asks. As he speaks, he leans in close, until their breaths share air. "Don't you want a good, proper alpha of good stock? Keep you nice and comfy up in some castle?"
"Not particularly," Steve tells him, truthfully. "My father would want nothing more than to marry me off to a high born alpha, to keep a house and have children, and to bring the Harrington name some sort of recognition once again."
Steve turns then, looking down the path and away from Eddie's eyes, so focused on Steve and his words. No one has listen to Steve speak with such attention before.
"I'd much rather marry for love," he admits on a quiet breath. Beside him, Eddie was a line of heat and weight, pressed against him, his gaze burning. "Or, if I can't have love, then at least for friendship. I'd rather not be alone anymore."
"I see," Eddie says.
Turning back to him, Steve gets caught once again in those intense eyes, dark and warm. He has to remind himself, again, that he's just met this alpha, that it's silly to entertain thoughts of love and companionship with a man he's only spoken to this once. Even if Eddie looks at Steve like he could look at him for the rest of his life.
"Well," Eddie says, turning back towards their destination, but letting his hand travel down Steve's arm, until he can link their fingers together. "I suppose we are quite a match, after all then."
Steve can't stop the smile that curves his lips this time, turns his head to try and hide it. "Yes," he agrees, "I suppose, we are."
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janebonbon · 4 months
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The man himself! Full of jokes..
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vidavalor · 7 months
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Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03
In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.
So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.
Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."
People. In. Love.
In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.
Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.
Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.
Aziraphale:
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Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?
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kiyinian · 1 month
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Getting closer to the lieutenant
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。..・。.・゜✭・.・✫・
Simon has never been one to believe in fate, much less would he believe it if someone told him that he would be head over heels for someone, he would say it was a lie. But that had to change when he met you, at that very moment, the fate of the two of you was intertwined.
He met you for the first time when you joined the base, a simple rookie recruit who would be trained by Simon. No big deal, just another part of his job. Little did he know that within a few months, you'd have him wrapped around your little finger.
It all started in training, the way you obeyed his every command, without hesitation or anything like that, hell, even when you didn't understand what you were supposed to do properly, he couldn't get angry with you.
If it had been any other soldier, he would have yelled or complained, but when you looked at him with those little eyes of yours, your eyelids fluttering as you focused on his every word.
"Hold the gun more firmly." Simon murmurs, in the same thick, husky voice as always.
You nodded hesitantly, aiming at the target, you concentrated, knowing that Simon was looking at you. You focused, concentrating on the target and trying to hit it - you narrowly missed.
If it had been any other soldier, Simon would have been rude, too strict. But with you, he couldn't get angry, watching you poke your cheek, your lips pressing together in a thin line.
It was impossible to get stressed with you.
He stopped frowning, took a few steps closer to you, positioning himself behind you, keeping a respectful distance.
"Relax, keep your elbows here." He says, holding your elbows underneath, straightening your posture.
He had never, ever, done this with any other recruit, but something about you made him do it.
After a few attempts, you managed to hit several shots on target, in sequence, and this drew a few murmurs from him. Apparently he was complimenting you, in his own way.
Maybe he was being too gentle with you, maybe he really should be stricter, but he couldn't make himself do it. He was probably treating you too well to be just a recruit.
In the corner he could see Johnny smiling, the bastard knew Simon perfectly well. Something was brewing there.
It definitely was.
Little by little you got closer, and it became more and more obvious that your relationship wasn't just one of superior and subordinate. He couldn't deny the concern and closeness he had for you, it was just unconscious.
He was always giving you tips on how to take better care of yourself, teaching you defense techniques, giving you clear and precise instructions so that you would follow them to the letter, all for your protection.
On missions, he was always on the communication device with you, asking every now and then if you were all right, always keeping in touch. You often didn't speak to each other, but just the fact that he could hear you breathing, or even giggling at something he said, was enough for him.
And that became even clearer during your last mission. Because of a mistake by one of the soldiers, things went wrong and you had to separate.
Simon despaired, he thought he would never see you again, or that you had been taken by the enemy, or something worse. He felt as if he had stopped breathing, and he only thought straight again when he heard your faint voice on the communication device.
"Sir...?" You mumble, and Simon almost falls to his knees and thanks whatever God kept you safe.
"Where are you? Hurt?" He asks in a hurried way, ready to come at you anyway.
"Just scratches, sir. I'm down south, in the abandoned blue house." You explain hurriedly, hoping he'll understand.
"I'm coming." Simon didn't wait for your answer, he knew where you were, and he wouldn't stop until he saw you again.
Once he found you, he held back every urge he had to hug you, to keep you safe in his arms. At that moment, he realized how much he had grown fond of you. The fear he felt at the thought of losing you. You'd taken up space in his heart. You'd done so much.
That day he realized that you were much more than a teammate, you were much more than he wanted to admit.
Even after promising himself that he would never fall in love again, he found himself breaking that promise in a conversation with you.
It was meeting day, you were sitting next to Simon, Gaz and Johnny were in the corner smoking a cigarette. You were waiting for Price, and then you started playing with a hair tie.
Simon looked at you, taking a sip of coffee, he even had an intrigued expression for you.
You then wrapped the elastic around your ring finger, admiring it.
"I think I'd look nice with a ring." You say, looking at Simon with a smile.
He raised his eyebrows, his lips threatening to form into a smirk.
"You want someone to put a ring on you?" Simon says with a certain amusement, looking at your finger.
"Ah, maybe so..." You say, starting to whisper, "I don't know, I think Riley would be a great surname."
That's it, you left him speechless, all giddy over a simple sentence. He was nervous to speak.
"Don't you agree?" You teased once more, giving a silly little smile.
He grunted, pulling down his mask, hiding the blush that appeared on his cheeks, as well as the grin.
At that moment, he knew it was you.
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temis-de-leon · 2 months
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Pick me girls and Dateables - Part 3
Characters: Diavolo, Barbatos, Solomon and Simeon (x reader, separately)
Part 1 - Lucifer, Mammon and Levi (x reader, separately)
Part 2 - Satan, Asmo, Beel and Belphie (x reader, separately)
Masterlist
CW: pick me girl behavior, suggestive, mentions of sex, mentions of violence and threats, mentions of concubines (no concubines, tho), implied marriage (??), jealous mc, some fluff, some hurt, some comfort, the most ooc out of every part of the series, Barbatos's part is based on one of his chats (A patissier's suffering?)
A/N at the end.
.
Diavolo
So the Devildom had concubines, what about it? It's not like Diavolo had any concubines. You were his only partner and, apparently, the first one in a long while. You had nothing to worry about.
Still, it was impossible not to feel so dejected when every single one of the demons in his court buttered him up so blatantly, not caring that you were next to him, arms linked and fingers intertwined.
And he smiled. Of course, what else could he do but smile? He had a duty to fulfill and that probably meant keeping certain people happy, right?
At least, that was the mantra in your head. Your heart kept hurting itself, but having a reason made it manageable.
"Well? Have you thought about it?"
You turned to your side and stared at the demoness beside you. She was mesmerizing and looking at her directly made you lose focus.
Have I thought about it? I haven't stop thinking about it.
"Remember that I'm acting on behalf of his wellbeing" she said sweetly, caressing your wrist like she wanted to flirt with you "And I guess I could make you happy too"
That made you laugh without an ounce of humor. Both of you knew she wasn't being serious about that one and you wondered why she said it in the first place. Making her Diavolo's concubine would make her his wife in everything but paper. Did she expect giving you orgasms would make you happier about it?
"Leave me alone" you whispered against your drink, not trusting your voice to act decently.
"How can you be so selfish?" she spat, leaving you speechless "This is for his own good. How long will you live, human? Do you expect him to be alone after your death? My only wish is to keep him company once you're gone and starting now would make the transition easier. He'll still love you, sure, but this way he could be happier. How can you not understand something so simple?"
A demon she was, you remembered. Had you been a regular human, you would've believed her concerned face, but to you it was obvious how impatient she was and how much she wanted to leave you there, alone and breaking, so she could finally speak to Diavolo.
"MC"
Both of you jumped, turning around just to see Barbatos's unfazed smile.
"Lord Diavolo asks for you" he informed when you didn't answer, too surprised to react. "Follow me if you please"
"If I may" intervened your companion, close to giving you a heart attack "I must speak to Prince Diavolo. It's an urgent matter"
The butler looked at you, asking for your permission, but you didn't know how to react. It seemed your throat decided to stop working at that exact moment.
"Very well, then"
The demoness eagerly jumped at his words, not wasting a second in leaving the corner you were occupying to look for the prince, who had finally stopped talking to his subjects and was sitting alone in his throne.
Barbatos stared at her before offering you his arm.
"You have nothing to worry about"
He seemed confident, so you believed him. However, the distance you walked towards the throne felt longer than ever.
Your boyfriend looked unnaturally serious at your arrival, an expression his face was not made for. It softened when he saw you, but, still, he didn't fully smile.
"My love, come here" he palmed his thigh and not in a million years would you reject that offer.
Diavolo smiled at the speed you moved, barely restraining himself from kissing you. Instead, he turned to the demoness and presented her to you.
"I believe you've met her already, MC. Did you know about her offer? Did you know she wishes to serve me?"
He patiently waited for your answer, holding you against his chest and caressing your hip bones with the pad of his fingers and the tip of his nails, making you shiver.
Serve? That's the word she decided to use? She wasn't lying, sure, but it was far from the intention she actually had.
"We talked about it" you said in the end.
There was silence for a few seconds, broken only by the sounds of people still drinking and dancing. Diavolo and Barbatos looked at each other, having a conversation no one else could hear.
"I take it you rejected her proposition?"
Obviously.
You nodded and he cupped your face with a sad frown. Your heart skipped a beat.
"That's a pity, my love"
For a moment you moved away from him, too lost in your incredulity to answer or even acknowledge the crazy smile on the demoness's face, but, not even a second later, Diavolo brought you back to him and continued.
"She would've make a wonderful lady in waiting"
Huh?
"Wait, what?"
Both of you ignored the woman, who looked like she'd been slapped in the face with something rotten, which, in her mind, was probably accurate.
"I asked to serve you, my Lord, not the human..."
"Beware your words" interrupted Barbatos, his tail swishing behind him like a whip.
She stopped talking then, very obviously swallowing her opinions. Diavolo speaked again.
"By serving you, she'll serve me. Give her an opportunity to make you happy and, if she fails, we'll get rid of her"
What did he mean, get rid of her? You opened your mouth to ask, but he jerked his leg, making you jump. His smile was wide, but his eyes held a warning.
You decided to let it go.
"Okay"
Diavolo laughed as loud as he usually did, finally hugging you and ignoring both Barbatos's reprimanding glance and the demoness's sour expression.
But wait.
Wait.
He said 'lady in waiting'. Like... Uh...
Were you getting married?
Barbatos
'I'll be waiting in the classroom'
That's what his last message said.
And you'd never be dumb enough to reject that invitation. ¿Spending time with your boyfriend and eating his homemade cookies? Hell yeah!
You just had to be careful not to catch Beel's attention, avoiding the main hallways and hiding between the taller students, which were almost everyone.
By the time you finally arrived to the classroom (you got lost, but you'd never admit that to anyone), you were fairly sure all of your classmates had already gone home.
Alas, you were wrong.
Barbatos's figure was as composed as ever, but you knew him just enough to know how irritated he actually was. Were you this late? It was never your intention!
But no, no, that wasn't the root of the problem.
You knew her, kinda. Not personally, but you'd seen her a lot of times in the castle, cleaning plates in the kitchen or clearing up the table after one of Diavolo's dinner parties. She looked weird in the school's uniform instead of the one the maids used, but you guessed they too had to go to RAD, just like the brothers did.
So why did Barbatos look so uncomfortable?
Both of them stared at you when you entered, walking towards him while staring at her in search of an explanation.
"MC! You're finally here"
He smiled at you with candid eyes, discreetly holding your hand and restraining himself from kissing you in front of the girl, who cleared her throat to break the moment and grinned at Barbatos like you weren't there at all.
Foolish mistake if you'd ever seen one.
Your boyfriend frowned before turning in her direction, clearly giving her one last oportunity before kicking her out of there and reclaiming his alone time with you.
The girl purposely made herself meek, lowering her gaze as if making visual contact with him was too much, something you could totally understand.
"Master Barbatos, please, I'm begging you. I just wish to learn"
You raised your eyebrows and waited for his answer. Instead, she kept talking.
"I'll follow every one of your orders, sir, I promise" arms behind her back and body slightly swaying, you now understood why he was in the edge of snapping "The others don't appreciate you as much as I do. I'll be your best student"
He stared at her, you stared at her, she stared at him, batting her lashes with a weirdly fake innocent smile.
Her demeanor vanished when the Royal Butler spoke.
"I recomend you stop this nonsense at once" he finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence "You're embarrassing yourself and Lord Diavolo's service's good reputation"
The poor maid gaped like a fish, although you weren't feeling bad for her.
You stayed behind him, closing the distance as much as possible while staring at her over his shoulder. If you ate a cookie now, would it be too much? He'd probably forgive you, but you'd rather not risk your chances.
"You will stay on cleaning duty as long as I say and you will stop the rumors that I know have been traveling all around the castle"
She lowered her gaze again, this time in submission and humiliation. His voice sounded venomous and you could swear the room's temperature dropped a few degrees. The air was still and smelled damped and rottening.
"If the gossip hasn't disappear by midnight, rest assured, I will make sure you keep your mouth fully shut"
The threat was clear in his words, something that shouldn't, but still surprised you. The maid trembled in response before bowing and running out the classroom.
You stared at the door in surprise, not turning around until he talked again.
"Do forgive me, my dear, but you know how much I dispise rats"
He sounded scarier than ever, letting his forked tongue slip between his teeth before he searched around the room, like he was trying to find more pests.
Then, he turned to you and smiled like nothing happened, holding a cookie to your mouth as the tips of his gloved fingers caressed your jaw.
"Let's forget about this ordeal, MC. After all, I saved these just for you"
Solomon
If there was something worse than feeling jealous, it was Solomon knowing you were jealous.
You thought you could catch a break, uh? Well, you couldn't be more wrong: your boyfriend knew the moment he saw you staring at that witch.
She was cute, you guessed? Nothing exceptional, but not hideous either. You wouldn't mind at all if not for the fact that she used her appearance like a nuclear weapon.
"Oh, you're so cute!" she'd told you once "I wish I was as cute as you!"
And at first you thought nothing of it. She was just being nice! A little weird about it, sure, but who wasn't weird in RAD?
Except, she wasn't looking at you when she said that, but, instead, at your boyfriend.
Of course, Solomon, unbothered as ever, was too engrossed in the cooking book he'd borrowed from the library to pay attention.
(Later that night you had to order takeout, but you were already counting on that).
The point was: she was trying too hard. You couldn't blame her, really, you dated Solomon for a reason; but still. She was getting on your nerves.
"I'm so dumb... I'll never get it! Solomon, can you help me with this?"
Opening a door with magic? Difficult? Yeah, right.
"I've never dated a human before... How is it, MC? I bet Solomon is a great boyfriend"
He has his moments.
"Solomon! Sit with me, I saved you a seat! Why? Oh, I concentrate better when you're here!"
Shit, could she concentrate at all?
"You're so powerful! You'll have to let me have him for a night, MC! He could teach me a couple of things..."
You closed your fist, staring at her with a frown while talking yourself out of mauling her across the table. You didn't need Lucifer's rants about impropriety and self restraint on top of all of this.
"MC and I have a lesson tonight" the sorcerer said with a polite smile, unusually kind eyes and an unreadable expression "Would you like to tag along?"
She sighed and rolled her eyes, lowering her gaze in embarrassment, although you weren't sure if she was really embarrassed.
"Could we hang out alone, tho? I don't want MC to see how dumb I am. They're so much better than me! I bet I need you more than they do!"
Well, you didn't need to study with her to know she was dumb as bricks.
You looked at Solomon, opening your eyes so much in bewilderment that even the insides of your cornea were getting dry. Not a second later he turned to you, smiling with mischief, and then you remembered who were you actually dating.
"It's either this or nothing. Be in Purgatory Hall at 6, we won't be waiting for you"
The witch quickly looked at you, frustrated at his words. It wasn't ideal, you knew, thirdwheeling your crush and his partner in a study date, but what else did she expect? Every other option was plain stupid.
"Okay"
She snorted, trying to hide the disgust and disappoinment without much success. Once she left you alone, swaying her hips and her ponytail, you punched Solomon in the arm and reveled in his pain.
"MC!! Relax!"
"Don't tell me to relax!"
You tried to choke him, but he hid his neck under his shoulders before you could lift yourself to reach him better. He knew you too well.
"MC, I have an idea! You'll like it, believe me!"
"Oh, really?"
"I swear!"
Once free from your attacks, Solomon avoided your eyes and stared at his hands. It took him a couple of seconds before he could look at you again, cheeks red, while he spoke from his heart.
"I couldn't care less about her attempts, MC, but she's obviously making you uncomfortable. I won't let this keep going if I can do something about it"
"But why did you invite her to our lesson, then?"
He laughed in a carefree manner, still blushing while he took your hands in his, looking at you like he was about to uncover a precious secret.
"As your teacher, I want you to explore your potential to the maximum"
His voice lowered to a whisper and you got closer to him, letting your body shiver when his breath caressed the skin of your neck.
"Say, MC, wouldn't you like to have your very own training dummy?"
Simeon
Oh, the privileges of being friends with the most powerful demons in the Devildom.
All you had to do was pout a little and act like you were miserable, missing the warmth of the sun and the familiar scenery of the human world. Of course, all of them knew you were exaggerating, but none would take the risk of actually making you sad.
So there you were, waiting for your drinks while Simeon sunbathed outside, sitting in one of those ornate metal chairs and writing some loose ideas for his next book in a napkin. After all, you'd be crazy if you ever went to the human realm without using the opportunity to have a date with your sweetheart of a boyfriend.
If not for the brightness of his suit, he would look like a college student from an old movie, all dreamy and focused in his own world.
And, apparently, you weren't the only one thinking that.
There were a group of girls outside the cafe, all of them young, maybe even fresh out of high school, staring at Simeon like he was some kind of celebrity. Maybe it was his angelic charisma? Maybe it was just his good looks? Whatever the reason, the girls seemed ready enough to conquer the world and they wanted to start with your boyfriend.
You studied your surroundings, realizing with an uncomfortable weigh in your chest just how busy the place was. There was no way you were getting your order in less than five minutes, even being the first in line, so the only thing you could do was wait and hope the girls wouldn't bother Simeon too much.
They stayed in a closed circle for a few moments until one of them finally dared to go and talk to him. She tried to sit in the second chair, but Simeon stopped her with a quick movement of his hand, probably saying he was saving it for you.
That made you laugh, but you were starting to get second hand embarrassment. You could tell she was trying hard to catch his attention, twirling her hair around her finger and hugging her waist to make her breasts look bigger.
You couldn't see Simeon's face, but, by the way he was scratching the paper, it was obvious he was losing focus on whatever he was previously writing, which would only make him irritated.
Fortunately, and rather rudely, the waitress finally gave you the styrofoam cups and immediately ignored you again, but you couldn't care less. The girl returned to her friends just as you stepped out of the cafe, letting you know part of what happened.
"He said he didn't know what part of him made him look interested in me" she snarled with a hint of hurt in her voice, trying to hide it with offense "That I should find someone that actually finds me entertaining"
Her friends gasped and you had to stop yourself from laughing. He wasn't usually that snappy, but she did interrupt his daydreaming.
"I don't even care what he thinks, he's just some dude! I can catch anyone I want, you know?"
Anyone but him, apparently, but the only thing her friends could do was agree.
Shaking your head and holding one drink in each hand, you stopped the eavesdropping and hurried towards him, leaning over his shoulder to kiss his cheek and smiling softly when he raised his hands to stroke your hair. He was warm from the sun, but he still curled close to you even after letting you sit next to him.
The girls audibly gasped at your actions, clearly offended by your presence as if Simeon would change his mind if they waited enough.
You couldn't bring yourself to pay them attention. Not when he was caressing your knuckles with such love in his touch and a feeling so deep in his eyes that it made your heart violently stop.
"So what were you writing?"
He smiled and eagerly showed you the napkin. By the time you turned around, the girls were already gone.
Tagging the party: @hello-gloomy @the-sassiest-toaster @hero-nii-blog @yourlocalyin @elaemae @eliciria @darkflowerav
Author's note:
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Simeon's part sucked the soul out of me (not in the good way), but at least it's well-written. Also, this will be the last part for now: I don't know Mephisto, Raphael or Thirteen enough, so they won't be in any of my posts (for now)
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whateveriwant · 4 months
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might I request how tf 141 tries to turn you on maybe? Sorry kind of a weird request you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to ;-;
Not a weird request at all, anon! Hope you enjoy! 18+ only, GN!Reader
Price
Three words: full body massage
That man loves to get his hands on you, and it doesn’t even have to be sexual in nature, honestly. Any opportunity to touch you, to caress you, to help ease the tension from your body, he’ll gladly take it (and if afterwards you’ll let him ease himself into you, well, that’s just an added bonus 😉)
He might use special rollers or electric massagers sometimes, but mostly he just sticks to those big, strong hands of his
He'll start by slicking up his palms with some oil, warming it up before he applies it to your skin
Beginning with your shoulders, he’ll slowly work his way down your body, paying special attention to the areas you need most targeted
Aside from those tender spots, he’ll also be sure to focus on a few of your more erogenous zones, namely your thighs and your ass (he's an ass man for sure)
By the time he's finished, you're all supple and pliant before him, but there’s something else too – a sort of warm, fluttery feeling in your gut
Luckily, he knows just the remedy for that sensation. And oh! Would you look at that? You're already in his favorite position: prone
Ghost
We all know he tends to be a man of few words, and this applies to every environment he finds himself in
…At least, every environment outside the bedroom, that is
Because when he's in the mood, you best hold on tight to your pants if you don't want them flying off from how he talks to you (but, I guess, your pants coming off is his end goal anyway)
You'll just be going about your day, minding your business, when you'll get a call from him while he’s “busy” at work
He'll start off casual at first, inquiring about your day, your plans for the night, etc., but it won't take long for the conversation to steer to the real reason for his call: to describe the way he's going to fuck you when he gets home
He'll go into excruciating, toe curling detail about all the things he's going to do to you; just how good he’s going to fuck you until you forget your own name
I hope you're not in public when you take his call, otherwise you better have the poker face of a lifetime if you don't want to make a scene in front of several dozens of witnesses
Gaz
He's a big romantic at heart, so rather than just going straight for the bedroom, he'll slowly work his way up to it over the course of the evening
First, he'll treat you to a nice dinner – either by cooking it himself or by taking you to that fancy restaurant you love but think is much too expensive for every day dining
Beneath dimmed, romantic lighting, together you'll share a delicious meal, a glass or two of wine, and of course a tasty dessert to cap it all off
The conversation will be light and pleasant (nothing unbecoming whatsoever), but while he might not outright voice the plans he has for you later in the night, that look he keeps giving you from across the table speaks volumes
When you’ve finished your meal and gradually made your way back home/to the bedroom, even then he still isn't done buttering you up just yet
He'll put on some slow music, maybe light a couple candles to really set the mood, even draw you both a bath if you're feeling up to it
Once he does finally take you to bed, it'll be a seamless transition from an evening overflowing with desire and passion
Soap
‘Subtlety’ is not really a word in his vocabulary, so most of the time when he's horny, he's just turning to you and asking if you want to fuck
However, sometimes when you need a little more build up than that, he has a few tried and true methods he knows will work you up
He'll change so that he’s walking around your flat wearing a pair of gray sweatpants. Wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants, mind you
Whilst wearing said sweatpants, he'll proceed to stretch and flex around you, showing off all those muscles he knows you love, as well as highlighting a few other assets he knows drives you crazy (i.e. bulge printtttt 😍)
He'll then get really touchy with you, starting innocent at first – brushing an eyelash from your cheek, straightening the neck of your shirt – before he gets more and more brazen with his petting
And when he's real close like that, leaning right into your ear, he’ll mutter soft praises to you: telling you how beautiful you look, how good you smell, how soft your skin is where he’s touching just there
By the time he finally goes to ask if you want to have sex, he doesn't even get the words out before you're jumping him like a wild animal. All according to plan…
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chiliyue-archived · 9 months
Text
physical affection
Tumblr media
includes; dazai, chūya, ranpo, atsushi
tags; these get just slightly suggestive (but its nothing too much).headcanons + some drabbles & shorts. these r longer than it should be - I got so carried away
I just woke up so if u find mistakes pls let me know :) I'm posting this before I come up with an excuse to delete it altogether
-
—DAZAI
handsy - that's really the only descriptor you need.
honestly, everyone knows you're his partner with how he acts around you; hand on your thigh, waist, shoulder. having to kindly smack him on the back of his head when his hands trailed a little too far-
^ only for him to send you a pout and doe like eyes that fade when you indulge him a kiss. he has zero shame (often at the expense of receiving a sneer from kunikida who had the misfortune of witnessing sometimes. even then, he didn't stop kissing you)
favorite spot is the inside of your palms and knuckles - with a lingering yield on your pulse point. if you ever kiss those areas on him, he'll have cartoon hearts around him & everything
holding his face though? call him your pretty boy or literally anything sappy and he thinks he might just die on the spot.
on the flip side he's also… a bit of a bitch.
traces your bottom lip tauntingly with his thumb, the other is cupping your head to keep your gaze on him. he maintains keen eye contact and relishes in the way you crack while he remains steady.
his mouth is so close that when he speaks, you could feel it vibrate against your lips. but he never closes the distance, he makes you do that instead for teasing benefits :/(if you're shorter than him, it's so over)
revoke his kissing rights and he trails like a lost puppy behind you. " just one, bella?" he whines when you maneuver your head away. it's cute seeing him get all pouty - not so much when his patience runs thin and he takes matters into his own hands
-> caging you in his physique and kissing you hard. fingers calloused are rubbing against your jaw or brushing past your ear to interlock, teasing the surface of the skin as he does so. he enjoys the tremors and shivers it elicits, such reactions becoming burned in the back of his head.
you could barely make a sound with the vigor he expresses his cravings in with your bottom lip becoming captured between his canines
contrary to his theatrical displays, however, i also believe he exhibits a softened demeanor when cherishing you proper (soft dazai agenda)
the tempo of his kisses are slow yet not in accordance with his teasing. while the meandering of his hands grows greedy, when he speaks his voice is reduced to a low whisper, mumbling sweet phrases with each kiss.
dazai wants to blame the bottom of sake for his vermillion flushed cheeks. more alarmingly, he wanted to ignore the way his heart squeezed when you reciprocated the kiss.
" darling," he pulls away, studying your expression. your hair was tousled, a swell blooming on your bottom lip from his recurrent nibbling and ministrations. the moment wasn't perfect, but he could bask in it for a lifetime. " are you getting sleepy?"
the pretty brown eyes you met were half-lidded and blinking. his bangs traced along your forehead from where he hovered, and if you squint, perhaps you would have noticed how the pink of his cheeks deepened the tiniest bit when you laughed at the tickling sensation.
you murmur something intelligible, the words swallowed by his mouth; he shivers when the syllables reverbate against him and the hand at your hip falters slightly. when he reels back, he remains close enough for his forehead to brush yours.
" repeat that, love."
" i said," you mumble, kissing the corner of his mouth. " can we to stay like this forever?"
almost instantaneously his body shakes in anticipation, heart lurching at the sincerity; how can you be so honest to a known liar like him? he slowly nods, his body arching until your chests were touching and breath pricked at your cheek. ever greedily, he seeks out another exchange, this one careful with a lingering touch of desperation.
an "okay" became lost as he gingerly grabs your chin, angling it just the tiniest bit to deepen it. in between the withdrawals and recoil, dazai chooses to ignore the way his breath stills in the pinnacle of moment, made potent when he twines his hand with yours. he provides the appendage a firm squeeze in coordination with the stirring in his chest, your inhales and exhales becoming synchronized.
he can't lie, he's been thinking just as much.
dazai also likes your hands. chances are his are bigger than yours and he finds himself comparing hand sizes with you. his eyes crinkle when your fingers are dwarfed by his.
adjoined limbs are swayed back and forth when you walk together. same applies with intertwined legs, but when he's not busy doing that, he's playing footsie beneath the table.
he needs to be with you whenever he can!! the spot across your table remains permanently empty as he makes a home of sitting as close as possible next to you instead
he can't even be embarrassed with overly sappy displays, not when he's loving it twice as much. " good morning, osamu," you once said, palms cupping his face. he doesn't know if something has ever made his heartbeat spiked as hard as that did. " can I have a kiss?"
if he didn't turn to putty from the request alone, then it was the way you circled your thumbs on his cheekbones when he brushes his lips to yours. tentatively, he curls his hands behind your waist, holding you close before you get too far.
" can i have some more?" his eyes are shimmering in mischief as ever but his skin has progressively grown warmer since you've found him.
dazai is cuddly. getting to hold you close and listen to your heartbeat? yeah, he could die happy right now
unsurprisingly, napping with him is among his favorite passing time activities.
the closest you may get to see a vulnerable side to him is if you card your fingers through his hair. admittedly, he finds it troubling how his built-up walls crumble so easily with a couple of strokes. but the only thing he can focus on now is the sensation of fingers devoid of pain carefully tend through his hair and how warm his chest feels
kisses on the forehead when you're in need of comfort ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶
" i'm right here, love." when you glance up at him with red eyes and puffy cheeks he could feel his heart break right into two. even more so when your voice cracks and he tries to hide the way his face drops when it echoes in the somber ambience.
attentively, he cups your cheeks as his lips apply delicate pressure against your forehead. he sighs when he feels your trembling hands subdue and your breathing regulate; its panning against his skin rivaled any other comfort he could ever receive.
" better?" when you nod, he could feel his grin return, just a bit weaker. " today has been hard on you. get some rest."
" can you stay with me?" he already knew the answer in his head but it still makes chest swarm tremendously.
he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, lips brushing your forehead again. " of course."
he wasn't the one needing comfort and yet he still felt a deep-rooted tingle right in his chest when you hugged him closer than usual. he depised the circumstances behind it, but he couldn't deny the way it made his barren chest feel less akin to a husk when you felt so secured against him.
his hands start to comb shrough your hair, watching as the strands bend between his fingers and he ensures to provide your scalp proper attention now and again.
he wasn't sure if he'll be able to sleep, he was more concerned in making sure you did.
he blinks when you move to press your cheek against his chest, right where his heart should be. " thank you," your words were muffled against clothes, sending vibrations along his bones.
" you don't have to thank me." he places a last kiss to your forehead, the longest one of the night. his legs shift to intertwine with yours, listening keenly to the sound of your breath until it slows into an assuaging rhythm.
dazai can't recall the last time he had to take care of someone. it's made apparent as he grapples with uncertainty - almost becoming overwhelming with how powerless he felt in the situation.
though tonight, he was sure to hold you a little tighter.
likewise if you kiss his scars and the skin beneath the bandages, he could feel the breath in his throat still and his heart do cartwheels. it's been so void of human touch for so long and he appreciates the care you exhibit towards something he considers to be ugly.
" all better now!" you punctuated your words with a kiss to the newly coiled cotton on his arms. dazai could do nothing but swallow hard, his "thank you" mumbled under his breath; he didn't like the pain, but it wasn't so awful when you spoiled him like this ♡
neck kisses + scattering the expanse of your throat with baby bruises you can not hide. afterwards, he traces it out with his index finger while he takes in the markings with great interest.
when it starts to fade he gladly renews them
" that tickles," you murmur, voice reduced to a whisper; you couldn't trust yourself, not with dazai scattering kisses along the exposed patches of your neck. the rehearsal of which doesn't falter, even when you tug on his increasingly unruly curls.
" my apologies, 'bella," you wince as he captures a patch of your skin between his teeth. " i think i've found my favorite form of art." he has the gall to feign a tone of sympathy, lips arcuated at the growing disparity.
in addition to the nibbling, his fingers skimmed along your torso, moving in taunting lines he knew ran your sanity thin. dazai knew all the places that made you shiver, it was a piece of information that became abused with the movement of his hands in that moment.
against your rationality, you sunk into his touch, fingers twitching along his roots. it brought a simper you couldn't see but his satisfaction is made apparent when his actions grow sloppy, scattering along the expanse of your throat and meandering along your collarbone.
" you had every chance to leave," he smirks when you don't reply, content with the way your nails briefly printed on him. predictably, he gives another nibble on your skin, tugging back gently. " this might be my favorite spot."
right on the center of your unguarded throat.
" i can't hide those there."
he laughs, breath cascading skin. " that's what i want, darling." he thinks he might lose himself when you bring a particular tug in his hair, a sound akin to a grunt reverberating against your throat.
" you're being mean." dazai makes the mistake of pulling back, gracing him with your disheveled hair, reddened lips and growing streaks of red. already he finds it to be his favorite piece of jewelry.
" don't look so down," he pressed a kiss to one of the blooming blemishes, grinning as it became more pronounced. " you'll get your turn soon."
-
—CHŪYA
he takes his gloves off when he goes to touch your face. he doesn't want the sensation of skin on skin to be hamper by the piece of article.
kisses to your temples & neck are exchanges he shares on the frequent. though depending on the height difference, it may also be a gesture reserved for when you're sitting on his lap or cuddled up into him. head kisses in particular feel appropriate for anything really
as for himself, i'd say he likes to be kiss on the lips(mainly so he can distract from the growing crimson that tickles his forehead)
but it's hard with the handsome face chūya has. his growing pout tells you he's growing impatient when you favor his cheeks, but the hand gripping your sleeves are so counterproductive
" can you do it properly?" he gruffs, brows furrowing that weaken by your persistence. his skin was growing warm from the kisses you spoiled him with but it hardly compares to the proper thing on his lips, aching for the familar sensation almost painfully.
he shivers when you trail to his mouth, just shy of it and his grip tightens. " like this?"
his eyes flutter shut when you close the distance and before he could realize it, his hands began to sift through your hair. " yeah," his exhale was shaky, voice dropping to a low lilt. " don't stop that."
he sleeps with his head buried in your stomach - his nose is brushing against your abdomen with toned arms slithering around you like a form of cocoon
it reaches a peak when you brush your thumb over his scalp, and you can physically note the way the muscles in his body sink. you can't see his face, greeted instead by a cascade of reds; but his lips pull into a grin at the action
it grants you the opportunity to play with his hair. and sometimes, when he wakes up to find the claw clips and cute brooches that push his bangs aside and show off his pretty eyes, he won't be tempted to remove them right away.
he wanted to roll his eyes when he saw you pull out the collection of hair clips, taunting pastels and neons gawking back at him. but he has to admit, he stopped caring the moment you started to play with his strands of hair. the locks weaved through your fingers, silky and soft stirring a form of ease that compels him to remain still. when he did move, it was only in an effort to bring himself closer, almost like snuggling(though he profusely denies it as such and regards you a scoff that doesn't compliment the rest of his actions).
had he not been treading precariously the boundaries of sleep, he may have been able to pick up on the way his heart quickened; a solace riveting up his spine and leaving in the form of a breathy sigh.
he blinks his eyes at you, nose scrunched up when you start mapping out his handsome features with your thumb. " you're getting distracted."
you acknowledge his statement with a coy grin and chūya felt his heart swell even at its simplicity. "i know." you move to press your lips to his forehead; if the smile wasn't enough to dissipate the frown on his face, that was the drug.
a flash of color peeks in the corner of his eye as you draw another clip. " i was just wondering how you would look in pigtails," you joke and chūya could feel his face twist— eye twitching at your jest.
" you're pushing your luck."
" it won't be that bad, chū."
" i could leave right now." his voice was terribly unconvincing when brooches adorned his head.
" you would have left a long time ago." you grin when he doesn't refute you. " just relax."
chūya knows he's defeated when you thumb his scalp again, eyes screwing shut involuntarily. " you're enjoying this too much," he grumbles. he tilts his head to the side, granting you access to his hair, hands falling pilant against your thigh. it bewilders him how much relief washes over him as you start to pry the strands apart again.
you know he's fallen asleep when he stopped replying to your ramblings; his words going from full sentences, to sporadic words and then slurred vowels. when you peek down, he's resting comfortably on your lap, lips slightly parted and allowing light snores to fill the silence.
chūya is far too deep in his subconscious to contemplate anything, but if he could, he thinks he might just get addicted to this.
a clingy drunk. in addition, the alcohol is effective at loosening his tongue, resulting in declarations of his undying love that are muffled when he goes head first into your stomach (≧▽≦)
in lieu of that, he likes to spoon you, with himself being the big spoon. he has his head in the crook of your shoulder, and you feel his inhales and exhales against your skin.
he likes your body heat, it grounds him to earth and coaxes a soft demeanor that he fails at suppressing
thoughtful when it comes to kissing in the public eye. he isn't fond of drawing that form of attention to your relationship, but he isn't opposed to stealing a couple of kisses now and then.
it's fast, it's simple and enough to satiate you and himself. and it's enough to tell onlookers that he's your bf
it that didn't give the memo, its the gloved hand on your waist that spoke to people that you were taken.
though that doesn't stop him from tugging you closer in a spur of his protective tendencies. it's a subconscious act he does when you pass a group of people or when yokohama is notably crowded. it's not merely because he's short and is worried about losing you to the sea of wayfarers(at least thats what he tells you) - rather, it roots from a concern that's only repleted when he knows you're safe
behind close doors, however, his kisses lack patience if the way he's gripping your clothes is anything to go by. and while he demonstrates a growing restlessness, he remains pensive to his own strength and withdraws to give you proper time to catch your breath.
but he knows exactly what to do intensify each one and make your brain go hazy
cupping your cheeks, tilting your head, voice speaking in a meticulous timbre that shakes your skull. you're far too consumed in the kiss to recognize when his free hand has found its way to your back, gliding along the spine before slipping beneath the hem.
his gloves are cold against your skin, mumbling a faint 'sorry' that's nearly swallowed when he brushes his lips to yours for nth time.
the limbs explore along the dips and contours, pinching your sides and smirking into the kiss when you yelp in surprise (inwardly, his heart is beating so fast, he wonders if you could hear it when his chest is pressed against yours.)
without the gloves, his hands are a hint warmer. but even warmer are his cheeks when you press kisses to it. he knits his brows together in an attempt hide how much he likes; ultimately, he betrays himself when he pulls you closer
" what the fuck are you doing," he stammers as you press a kiss to his warm cheeks. despite himself, he makes no effort to move when you brush your lips on the other - even warmer than the neighboring pair.
"kissing you," you hum. "... want me to stop?"
" no." he hates how fast the words left him and he hates how you grin at that. it was just the thing to crumble his resolve - and more specifically, it's just the thing to make him go mellow, subservient to your ministrations with his heart beating erratically - even within the scrutiny of strangers and coworkers.
" give me a warning next time." he wants to frown but the expression dies when you crane your head to make contact wherever you can reach. in reponse, an arm finds purchase on your hip, shuffling you closer until you are nuzzled up to his build.
he wasn't sure what rumors would circulate if people saw him being soft - and frankly, he couldn't bring himself to quite care much about the prospect either; inwardly, he was already missing the rehearsal of your lips on his, a desire not easily quelled and he was far more occupied with fixing that.
you let out a confused hum when he suddenly taps at your cheek indignantly. " well?" a thumb hooks beneath your chin, bringing you just shy of his mouth. "are you going to finish what you started?"
when he's making kissy faces with his partner, it's nobody's business.
if you have dimples, he kisses those, each one before concluding it off with your lips
chūya just likes to be in contact with you in some way really. longing to hold your hand and scribe incoherent phrases on the palm. reflected in the way his feet nudge closer to yours and how he never fails to hold your hand beneath the table. when handing you items, he reveals a form of reluctance when he detaches away.
i really want to say he does that thing where he places his fedora over his chest when he kisses your knuckles. he tries really hard to maintain eye contact, but it falters when you send him a beam that makes his chest ache from beating so fast.
and lastly, he never leaves without getting a goodbye kiss first.
" you're forgetting something." chūya vexed— furrow brows bruising his otherwise neutral expression. he hasn't moved from where he stood, silhouette stilled by the partition with nothing but the perpetual tapping of his foot to remind you of his presence. it took all of your strength to push back your laughter at his childish display.
" i am?" you question with a tilt of your head. the inquiry rewarded you with a huff from the former, lip twisting into a frown. admittedly, he looked cute when grumpy, pretty dark eyes tracking you behind colored bangs.
" my kiss?" an index finger points to his neglected lips, promptly chooses to ignore the red hue that harbored along his cheeks, tickling his forehead tauntingly.
chūya tracks your movements as you stride forward, cupping his cheeks within your palms. he resists the urge to close the distance himself - as alluring as it was - he sought out satisfaction when you comply with a genlte kiss. against his own volition, a breathy and likewise dreamy sigh leaves him, just barely audible by the exchange.
his hands sneak down to rest on your waist, twitching when you press a final peck to his cheek. promptly, you decide not to comment on the way a grin was threatening to crack on his oh so serious face.
" better?"
"very."
-
—RANPO
yk in the movies where the guy picks up the girl and spins her around when they kiss? ranpo wants you to do that with him but he's the girl.
piggyback rides ! except he's the one on your back :/ " to the detective agency, y/n!" he jabs out a lithe finger, his dimple smile steady even when you meet him with a glare over your shoulder. it makes him more eager than anything, face squishing against your cheek as he loops his legs around your waist.
" don't give me that look" he exasperates, a brow quirk at your nonverbal response. " the world's greatest detective can't be in better hands."
" you can get there yourself," you sigh, averting your gaze back in front of you. it was hard to fight against him, his persistence shaping your decision the longer he clinged to you.
" thats the boring alternative. duh," he breathes, nuzzling his cheek against your hair. " you know me better than that. besides, i like it when you hold me."
likes kissing you. he will rope up any excuse to steal a kiss. he finished a piece of paperwork? he deserves a reward. finished eating a cookie? kiss the crumbs off. you have absolutely nothing else to do? well, his lips are right there, give him a smooch <3
his kisses taste sweet, the faint traces of chocolate and jams coating his lips. it won't be too far from him to make you guess the flavor of cake he had that morning, but really you think he's just trying to pull more kisses from you. cause he is
" tastes sweet." ranpo shudders when the words vibrate against his lips, cheeks deepening to a rosy hue but the playful glint in his eye ceases to falter. " banana or strawberry?" you blink, a pensive look comprising your features.
a hand cups the back of your head, bringing you close enough for your lips to hover his, still glossy in faint syrup. " nope~!" his proceeding laugh was cut short as he closed the distance again, the ache to kiss you too profound. and with you seated on his lap, he utilized the given opportunity greedily.
you resist the urge to gasp when his tongue swipes along your lower lip, with it the tinge of a fleeting flavor; you recall watching him eat something sweet and sugary in the morning.
he smiles against your mouth, savoring your reactions and attempting to draw out the kiss. " that's definitely strawberry," you contemplate.
ranpo whines when you withdraw, grip tightening against your hands in a stubborn display - it was perhaps the most desperate response you've gotten from him that evening. " are you lying?" you tease with a knowing look; you don't think you've ever seen him shake his head as vigorously as he did now.
" i think," he brushes the corners of your mouth, fingers settling against your chin. "you'll just have to kiss me until you get it right."
the possibility to ponder a response was stolen from you, swelling lips already chasing your own with renewed zeal. dumbfounded, you were naive to the abandoned slice of shortcake just a couple tables away. but by the time you discover it, your little game would be long forgotten.
his childish demeanor often seeps through into his portrayal of affection, fond of sweeping you off your feet at the displays(and at times quite literally too)
it varies in forms; one day he can slump against you like a koala, grip like a vice. and the next he decides to randomly squish your cheeks and bring a kiss to your puckered lips
" ranpo-?!" you sputter, disoriented from sudden and hasty movement. you recall looking over some documents, the next you were gazing into wide green orbs and a nose bumping yours. a self-satisfied look curls on his face, relishing in the way your face fumes beneath his touch.
" surprise~"
" what was that for?"
" just wanted a kiss." he evades the hand on your cheek in favor of curling your bangs around his finger. " i'll come back for more."
he's shameless, unafraid and bold. perhaps not to a similar depth as dazai, but ranpo yields an unpredictability that easily leaves you mellowing in his ministrations
blows raspberries on your cheeks and palms just to coax a laugh from you. it's a reaction he can't help but mimic too and implores you with a "my turn!" while tapping his cheek expectantly.
has probably nibbled on your cheeks at some point too…. :/
likes to hold your hand, slipping it into space randomly and nonchalantly. he sticky like that; appearing from thin air and finding your hand trapped with his.
even better if you sit on his lap or vice versa
when you sleep, he lays on top of you because he doesn't want you to leave him alone. plus! it provides him the perfect advantage to pepper his lips on your collarbone or other patches of expose skin
goodnight kisses (and nap kisses) are a must and he turns greatly fussy when denied such "necessities" as he puts it
" i'm only going to get a glass of water," you reassure him, sweeping his messy bangs aside to press a kiss to his forehead. the crease between his brows goes slack, but his grip remains fixed; it was late, and the last thing ranpo wanted was for you to leave your spot on the futon. " i promise."
his eyes surveyed your face for an inexplicable answer and the fidgeting of his fingers against your forearms tells you he's hesitant.
a silence shrouds the dorm before he speaks again, voice weakened and resigned - it almost made you want to stay in bed with him, enveloped by the unspoken words and his endless aura of affection. " okay." you trace your finger over his cheek, pallid and smooth beneath the pad - the gesture was persuasive enough for his grip to grow lax. he didn't let you get too far yet however, an outstretched pinky waiting before you. he bestows you a broaden grin when you accept it, pressing a kiss to the tip of the adjoin digits.
he doesn't leave your side even as you fix yourself a glass of water, your shared blanket haphazardly draping his shoulders and trailing behind him. he lingers by your arm even as the facet runs, interrupting his thoughts with tired green blinking in impatience. and he watches you through his bangs as you replenish your thirst, already looping your arm and guiding you back to your futon.
not a second after your head meets the pillow, ranpo wraps himself around you, dawning a smile now that you're back with him. he didn't care if his elbow was probed at an odd angle, he just wanted to be as close to you as possible.
" you can't fall asleep yet!" he whines, pulling on the sleeves of your shirt languidly. " it's only fair if you give me a kiss."
" i gave you one earlier."
his gaze shifted to a mixture of displeasure and yearning, small hands pulling eagerly on the fabrics of your clothes. his pleading green eyes made it hard to resist his demands, obscuring into a candid vulnerability you seemingly wielded over him.
" but," ranpo leans close enough for his nose to brush yours, messy fringe framing his sleepy face. his hands flex around your palms, nails scuff on the contours, voice going so low you almost didn't hear him. " i can't fall asleep without it."
pinches your cheeks when in vie for your attention. in any case, he isn't against stomping his foot and whining as a last resort :<
his pout dissipates when you grant him with a collection of kisses or allow him to sit on your lap, fiddling with the ends of your hair or scribbling random phrases on your thigh that he makes you guess
i wouldn't put it against him to randomly jump into your arms or back. the questioning glances he receives hardly impedes him, instead murmuring an "i miss you," into your shoulder. he quivers in your arms when you comb your fingers through his hair, eyes squeezed shut in an air of bliss.
when it comes to deep embraces, he nestles against you akin to a cat, hands pawing wherever he can reach with greedy intent. and that cloak of his can easily encompass the pair of you, performing as a makeshift den of sorts. it feels like your enclosed own little world with him pressing kisses along your face like a butterfly
ranpo is attentive, all too familiar with your habits including the ones you don't cognitively account for. he notes the way you fidget with your fingers, and increasingly it came to be with his fingers you grew fidgety with. if you have a habit of tugging your sleeve, it's not your sleeve you're tugging on anymore but his instead.
he comes to recognize these patterns and responds in kind either with a squeeze to your clasped hand or tapping against your skin in a form of code.
has love hearts in his eyes when you offer to feed him. if he's feeling kind, he'll reciprocate the gesture, though, often at the expense of getting something he wants.
napkins are overrated, kissing off the crumbs or using his thumb are so much more favorable alternatives to him
" say ah~"
you cocked a brow as sugar became smeared on your lip - hardly helped by the titter coming from him. ranpo's persistence was tenacious and the myriad of his treats proved to be bottomless. you weren't sure how many treats you've been fed at that point but it's evident the former found enjoyment from the coddling as evidence of his dimpled smile.
ranpo offers you another confection, a velvety cookie glazed in congealed frosting. when you indulgently take a bite, the filling melts in your mouth and the taste of vanilla floods your taste buds.
" it's good right?" he gives you a smile as he observes your face, brightening when you react positively. " i got them just for you. i knew they were your favorite."
he suddenly pauses, eyes fixating toward your direction. he pays little heed to the look you send him, not when his gaze centers south; that should have been your first sign to up and leave - you want to blame his bribery of treats for your reason to stay.
" you got crumbs all over your face," he said, eyes squinting. while his tone was gentle with a trace of mirth, the way his eyelashes batted innocently at you alluded otherwise. ranpo always held a resurgent glimmer in his eyes, one that he couldn't blink away easily.
he hastily stops you before you could grab a napkin to dapple it away, residing to instead run his thumb along the corners of your mouth. the deliberate proximity catches you off guard and given how his lips shift into a faint smirk; that was exactly the reaction he was hoping to coax.
" much better," he leans back but not without pressing a peck to your nose first.
he plucks out another cookie - and much to your surprise doesn't eat it down right away. more accurately, he crudely cracks it half, revealing an abundance of sugary filling hidden within the confines. without a hint of hesitation, he dips a finger into the cream frosting and messily swatches it against his mouth.
his dimpled smile doesn't leave him for a second even as he slots in front of you directly. his pink cheeks and light stutter chipped away at his facade but his green eyes and lips pulled into a firm beam remained confident.
you almost detested the way it was infectious otherwise you would have rolled your eyes.
ranpo reached out to cup your cheeks, waiting. " it's only fair you do it back, okay?"
-
—ATSUSHI
he holds a lot of hesitation when it comes to enacting anything physical and it shows.
modest, never performing any actions without your explicit consent. even so he exercises slow movement and allows you the opportunity to withdraw if you so desire.
he follows you around a lot though, seeking comfort from being your presence
it shows in the way he inches himself closer to you when you're in the general vicinity. in the way he glances at you for confirmation before lacing fingers. in the way he scoots his chair to close just so his thigh is just slightly nudging yours.
he questions how you're able to be so composed even with something as minimal as brushing clothed skin because inwardly he's going abrack and he can't focus on anything else
" atsushi are you listening to what i'm saying?" your voice broke him from his stupor, head perking up
in the following moment he could do nothing more than let out a nervous laugh, eyes fluttering in companion of scarlet cheeks. " ye- i… erm.. can you repeat that please?"
actually him -> (〃´𓎟`〃)
his favorite physical attributes about you are your hands, i think! they're so strong, and it fits into his perfectly <3 he can spend an hour just tracing the lines along your palm and appreciating the details
as such he's a hand holder as well. he shyly links his pinky with yours before gradually lacing the rest of the digits. when he looks at the joined limbs, it's like a shot of comfort runs right through him.
you often catch him peering at you in the corner of his eyes, mosaic of yellows and purples squinting in intrigue. presently, his hands go clammy, fidgeting against his pants at a random manner; it was a common gesture of his, one that didn't go by unnoticed by you.
" something wrong?" he eases up a bit at the sound of your sincere tone.
" no, not at all," he gives off a nervous laugh, hand scratching the back of his neck. too far into his nerves, he failed to to recognize how the area became chafed. " i was just wondering," he paused, lips shaped into a bashful smile. " can i… hold your hand?"
atsushi didn’t have a mirror on him but he doesn't doubt that his face can put tomatoes to shame.
fortunately, the stiffened muscles on his back go slack at the giggle you release, a nervous chuckle pouring from himself. the erratic beat of his heart meanwhile, resumed its ricochet against his sternum, blood pounding on the lobe of his ear.
"you don't have to be so hesitant about holding my hand, 'sushi." you accentuated the statement by dipping your palm to take his.
it's evident he takes your words to heart, as next time he wordlessly hooks his index finger with yours before properly weaving the rest of the appendage. it was like a perfect puzzle, he reckoned and he gave his head the faintest tilt to gaze at it.
without realizing it, he rolls his thumb over the knuckles, savoring the exchange and the sensation of your fingertips on his. you haven't even spoken a word and already, his heart fills immensely full.
and if you pay attention, you may even catch him grinning at the presumably courageous gesture he mustered himself to do. his clammy palms tell you he's nervous, but it's hard to resist him when he's genuinely trying so hard.
when he does garner the confidence however, he holds his hand out for everything; helping you out of the car(princess treatment w him tbh!), guiding you to bed when you're really sleepy, or when he just needs to be in some form of contact with you. he may even take it a step and pepper some kisses on the knuckles or rub the joints
moving his hand along your back when you're having a bad day of sorts. he may even resort to drawing shapes or random designs with the back of his nail as he listens to all your troubles
whenever your face scrunches up he kisses the pinched muscle until it goes loose again.
" there's that smile." he pushes aside his diffidence for your sake, cupping your cheeks before pressing kisses along your cheeks.
for himself, he finds a sort of reprieve by lying down on your lap. the moment his head makes contact with your thighs is like instant relaxation for him.
and all he can pay attention to afterwards is the sensation tickling his ribs and the way you mindfully took his roots within your fingers.
he seeks stability in such actions; his deep exhale occupying your dorm and meandering with the dust particles that float around him. he doesn't even realize how he's nuzzling closer into your body, eyes squeezing shut when you favor his scalp for a few seconds.
if he could purr, he would
kissing the tips of your fingers and hugging you from behind ♡
its the best form of affection he could ask for when he comes home groggy and sore from work
" i'm home." exhaustion claws at his voice, movements stiff and sluggish as he strips of his tie and other accessories. his eyes surveyed the area, searching until…
a pop of familiar hues sweep into his vision. it revitalizes just enough energy to sustain a pair of open eyes, belied to the fatigue housed prior.
" welcome home, 'sushi." you greet with a smile he couldn't help but mimic even as the muscles in his body disagreed with it.
your mouth moves to mumble something else, but the words become intelligible to his ears. he was more far more concerned in slumping into the crevice of your shoulder, head falling into familiar position.
" miss you," he murmurs, rubbing his cheek against you, affectionate as ever. his hands wander down to your waist, finding the hemline. perhaps his growing daze subdued his rationality, for his hands slipped beneath, pinky faintly hitting skin.
" let's go." you gently tugged on his arm, intending to guide him to your futon; you only managed a couple steps before his grip went firm. almost uncharacteristically. when you turn your head, your met with a pair of fluttering lashes gazing at you - droopy but in its reflection was an intangible touch of fondness.
" this is fine," he brushes his lips to your cheek. the gesture was sloppy but enough to rekindle a grin on your face. " just want you here."
his finger sprawled against your stomach, heart hastening when you leaned back into him. he took the opportunity to douse himself in your comfort, relishing when you brush your fingers past his ear and scratch along his head.
he feels himself sink more when your nail caught a certain spot, just lateral to his head.
if it weren't for your voice breaking the silence, he would have surely fallen asleep at that moment.
" i'm right here," you murmur. " go ahead and rest." he wasn't sure how those words could weigh heavily on him as it did and also provide him the lull to drift off to sleep. but it didn't matter. the real thing is so much better than he can ever imagine.
when you cuddle together, he prefers to settle with his hand or head where your heart should be. the thumping is so reassuring, especially when his insecurities pipe up. he needs to know you're still there :(
on the days he can't sleep, he finds himself playing with your fingers: gently flexing the joints and counting the knuckles
he's docile at anything routley intimate; fuming a pair of uncomfortably hot cheeks and legs reduced to jelly. his words often come in the form of stutters and slurred syllables, the slightest of touches jolting him.
his actual kisses though are gentle and considerate, favoring areas such as your hands and cheeks.
in contrast, the drawn-out gestures are hesitant at first. when it came to the first kiss, he had to swallow down his nervousness.
" did i do okay?" he inquires, eyeing your countenance. he feels a crash of relief when a grin curves on your lips and in turn he flashes you a dazzling amiable smile.
"good." he nods at that, removing the space again with the intentions of lengthening it and making it better than the last. good was fine, but he wants perfect when it came to you
when atsushi gets a taste of what physical affection can be like; pecks at his face, squeezing your hand and spooning you close - he's hooked. and he wants more, becoming akin to an insatiable pit. and it's profound.
he yearns for more kisses and lingering embraces that set his nerves aflame. he yearns to be closer to you until it was just impossible.
it also spurs a part of him(and in consequence of his ability as well) a yearning to leave some markings along your skin. he tries to be considerate in where he places it, but he himself is awful at hiding his own blemishes.
a shaky expression drops on his face, the faint pink on his cheeks deepening to a cherry blush. he wasn't familiar to having your lips press beneath his chin, outlining the thrum of his throat - you could feel it's cadence whenever he sharply exhales, in pair of his palpitating heart.
even within his daze, atsushi remained cautious to not sink his nails into your shoulders. in comparison, he fails to suppress his shudder when your lips brush against a particular spot, air knocked from his chest.
when you glance up at him, his face contorts into a form of raw desperation, tugging onto your clothes until you were just shy of his mouth. meekly, he tries to not linger his gaze on your lips as you spoke; " is this fine?"
it's like you're teasing him, puffy magenta lips gawking at him and he wants nothing more than to kiss you again.
" it is." from the corner of his eye he could make out the faint reds that probed from his clothes hemline, dotting along his collarbone like swatches of paint. he doesn't think he'll ever grow use to it, filling him with an exhilaration he reasons can't be replicated elsewhere.
" i like it actually." his eyes squeezed shut in an effort to steady the eruption of red on his cheeks but it did little to quell his racing heart when you cupped his face, pressing a kiss to his mouth.
" i'm glad, you look handsome like this."
his smile reaches his eyes. "you look pretty too." his nails dug into his palms in an effort of restraint as he returns the gesture in kind.
-
I was originally hoping to include fyodor but this was so long already. w/ him (& unfinished) it would be 8k words. I rlly want to do version for sigma and akutagawa too. ty boxing fyodor anon 4 enabling my behavior TwT
these have so much room for improvement but I've fiddled around with it sm (๑′°︿°๑). if this doesn't leave the drafts now, it never will. I'll fix mistakes laterrr
taglist; @eynnwwyjth @anqelically @seisitive @iheartpieck @seiiblue @averagebsdwatcher @solandiss @4nthonyyliving @guacamole-roll @sunnyx07
be added or removed here !
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yuquinzel · 11 months
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PULLING THEM CLOSER BY THEIR COLLARS. feat ⨾ blue lock!
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𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ contents ⨾ fem! reader, i was trying to write fluff yes, but it ended up a lil more suggestive than intended... :') not proofread !!
𓈒࣪ 𐐪𐑂 ─ characters ⨾ rin, sae, nagi, reo, isagi, chigiri!
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ITOSHI RIN. . .
is all too familiar with that self-assured smirk playing at your lips— and his alarms are going off. before he can say anything though, as he watches make your way to him, you do something he could've never seen coming.
your hands rest on his collar, and before he can grasp what it is that you're trying to do— you pull him closer, making him stumble forward purely out of surprise, his much larger hand instinctively falling to the wall behind you, “w-what are you trying to do?” he hates that he stutters.
“trying to get a better look,” and he hates that you're smirking.
“... at what?” he swallows the lump in his throat, hoping it comes off as casual as he intended it to be.
“you've got an eyelash right here,” you smile, brushing his cheek lightly and reeling back. this is wrong— there was something you were supposed to do, something he wanted you to do— though he'd rather die than admit it.
“oh,” he says, a little dejected, “you could've just said that.”
“but then i wouldn't be able to do this,” you catch him by surprise the second time in two minutes when your lips meet his, quick but indulging and when you pull back, he chases after your lips.
and he hates that you're smiling and he loves it because it makes him want to smile too.
ITOSHI SAE. . .
resists the amused smile tugging at his lips when your arms rest on his shoulders. its 2 am on a wednesday and he has early practice tomorrow morning, so how you managed to convince him for a slow dance in the kitchen is beyond him. for what it's worth, he'll let it be because he doesn't mind this too much, not when your hands travel to the collars of his navy blue shirt.
then he feels a tug, and you pull him closer. it catches him off guard for sure, the spontaneity of your gesture making him stumble forward, hands coming to rest on your waist, “hey, watch it,”
you do nothing but grin, lips meeting his for a kiss as slow as the dance you initiated, he kisses you back without hesitation.
when you pull back, a little breathless with swollen lips, he asks again, “what was that for?”
he huffs when you mutter something like i just wanted to try it, but what he wont tell you is that he might look forward to you doing it again in the future.
NAGI SEISHIRO. . .
blinks at you, you're standing on your tiptoes— hands on his shoulders for support but he's still much too tall for you. he wants to ask you what it is that you want, but he'll take a guess— it must be a kiss. being the good boyfriend he is, he decides to save you the moment of asking him to bend down, initiating it himself as he does.
he takes a moment to appreciate how your eyes light up, and it's all it takes for you to grasp the collar of his hoodie, and pull him down in one swift moment.
your lips brush just barely — a tease — hovering just breaths away, nagi eyes the way they move to form words when you speak, “you're too tall, sei,”
nagi takes matter in his own hands, closing the aching distance between your lips, his next words muffled inbetween, “ ’s okay, you can do this more often.”
MIKAGE REO. . .
smiles at your reflection, eyes and hands alike tracing the fabric of the silken red dress roping the curves and slopes of your frame, “do i look okay?” you ask, and reo wants to laugh at the absurdity of the question.
“you look absolutely stunning.” he says, smiling into the crook of your neck.
you turn around at his words, a pretty smile adorning your lips. if he's being honest, reo expects a kiss— when you lean in just a little closer, he expects a quick but sweet brush of your lips on his.
instead he feels your hands grasping his collar, a surprised gasp leaves his lips when you pull him closer, “wait, what—”
“you look quite handsome yourself,” you whisper, the familiar smile from before still fresh on your lips, and reo feels his heart ricochet like bullets in his ribcage.
it takes him a few moments to come back to earth, resting his head on your shoulders when he does, “okay, but that was kinda hot.”
ISAGI YOICHI. . .
finds himself at a loss for words, somehow they're running in his mind at a million miles per second and yet when he tries to speak, all that comes out is a, “h-hey, wait—”
he thinks he could've guessed it, when you had that mischievous smile on your face. but he still couldn't prepared for when you grab the collar of his shirt and pull him closer, with a force not as harsh but enough that he barely catches himself.
“hi,” you laugh, watching heat settling in his cheeks at the awareness of such close proximity.
your smile, which would've usually calmed him, only makes him vaguely conscious of how your lips are barely a hair's breadth away. he snakes his arm around your waist to support himself anyway, unable to resist mirroring your laugh, “uhm, hi...? god, you caught me off guard.”
CHIGIRI HYOMA. . .
tilts his head in confusion, eyeing the seriousness of your expression, “what's wrong?” he asks.
he prepares himself for anything, maybe to whisper a few words of comfort if you need. he can handle it, he thinks.
and he realises he was utterly wrong when all you do is grasp the collar of his shirt, and before he can ask you what you're doing, he feels you tug and pull him forward.
“mhm, you look pretty even up close.” if the sudden boldness of your action didn't catch him off guard, then your compliment sure did, even though he's heard it countless times before.
but he laughs nonetheless, quickly gaining back his composure, “thanks, i could say the same for you.”
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© yuquinzel2023 [ plagiarism is a violation of moral rights ! ]
the favouritism showing on rin and reo's part :')
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aliceramblez · 5 months
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Dating The BroZone Brothers 🎤🎶
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Tags: Gender-neutral reader, Fluff, Some Angst (mostly for Branch lol), Also Broppy isn't canon here, obviously. But I love them dearly so don't come at me!
Follow me @taruchinator for more structured content and/or feel free to leave a request here in asks. Enjoy!
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John Dory
We all know this man is a bit self-centered, and that doesn't stop at your relationship.
He'll find any opportunity to show off for you— anything from singing, to dancing, to just his ‘incredible leadership skills that make him the perfect boyfriend!’
He also definitely introduced himself as a member of the old boy band BroZone, which you may or may not have heard of, which may or may not have left him flabbergasted.
Despite all his faults though, John Dory will do his best to be a good partner for you. It's what you deserve, after all!
Keeping you safe from wild creatures, making sure you're always happy because he loves your smile, and also being the overprotective boyfriend who'll square off against anyone who even dares to make you uncomfortable even if they're 10x his size.
Small detail, but he also loves the fact that Rhonda took a liking to you instantly.
“She knows how to pick the good ones,” he'd say with a wink.
Talks about his brothers CONSTANTLY, but always in a way that makes it seem like he doesn't care and that it's their fault the band broke up in the first place. He obviously really cares about them, though.
Some nights, he'll reflect and regret all the stuff he said and did to them, and wishes he could go back and make it right. You reassure him through most of it, trying to convince him that he was young and just didn't know any better.
He stares at you in awe and disbelief because how could ANYONE think that what he did was justifiable? Abandoning his younger siblings all because of his stupid ego and personal insecurities.
“I really don't deserve you...”
Give him some time he's just emotionally constipated.
Also you BET he's gonna show you off to his brothers once they're reunited, so just let him. He just wants the most important people in his life to meet.
You can also expect them to try and embarrass John Dory with stories from their childhood, so be ready to have a good laugh as your boyfriend plots for murder in the background.
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Spruce/Bruce
Probably the one who's best equipped to be in a relationship out of everyone in the group.
He is a family man, after all.
Speaking of which, if you think him settling down in the movie and having kids of his own was cute, it really is! But that just indicates that he has a way with children.
If you have a child or younger sibling, expect them to get dotted and taken care of to DEATH by this man.
He may not have been the sensitive one of the group, but was definitely the most reliable of the eldest, so he's got experience handling little trouble makers that come his way.
He still opens a cantina in Vacay Island, which is where you two met for the first time, and so you help run it occasionally whenever you have the chance. And even though you don't go there 24/7, all the regulars just think that you're the co-owner since you're dating Bruce.
You're the one who finds out that he's actually ‘Spruce’, the member of old boy band BroZone. You just happened to stumble upon an old record he kept in his room, and after confronting him about it, he reluctantly confirms your suspicions.
It was hard to recognize him since he was much older now and his body had definitely... grown over the years.
Bruce doesn't like preaching about those days, since he's quite embarrassed of the ‘immature ladies man’ he used to be back then.
But he won't deprive you of them either, since he'll happily share any stories on his misadventures with his brothers, funny backstage incidents, etc.
He misses them dearly and wishes they're all doing okay.
Two words: Hopeless. Romantic.
He's ‘The Heart Throb’ for a reason.
Roses, chocolates, dances— he can do it all!
Bruce will always make time in his busy schedule to spend time with you, taking you on dates to your favorite spots around the island, getting you meaningful gifts, and just overall expressing his love for you in any way he can.
He loves singing to you because it always serenades you and it puts a smile on his face.
People always joke that he's going to propose to you out of the blue one of these days, which always leaves him a flustered mess, but he never denies either.
“What can I say? I might be waiting for the perfect opportunity...”
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Clay
Poor baby doesn't know what he's doing but he's trying, okay?
The two of you meet in the abandoned Bergen Golf Course, where you and Viva welcome him with open arms, and everything pretty much plays as in the movie, except that he really likes spending time with you and ONLY you, which he doesn't quite understand?
You're the one to ask him out cause otherwise you'd be playing this back and forth forever. He says yes.
He's never had a partner before, so he's justifiably worried that he'll mess up in some way, or that you'll end up finding him too boring after a while.
This becomes much more apparent after a particular bad night, in which after mumbling incoherently because of a nightmare, you find out that he has brothers and used to be in a boy band.
He doesn't open up about it at first, so you give him some space and reassure him that you'll be there when he needs you. Just give him some time and he'll tell you eventually.
He talks about how he could never be himself, since he was always expected to be ‘The Fun One’, and now he's basically tried to become the complete opposite in hopes of gaining some control over his life.
But he also worries that others will think he's too dull, and that he just isn't interesting enough to be around. Especially you.
You immediately take his face in your hands and look him in the eyes.
“I fell in love with Clay. Not ‘The Fun Troll from BroZone’ Clay. Also, you're fun in your own way!”
He basically falls for you all over again after hearing this.
After that, he becomes slightly less uptight and allows himself to enjoy the little things. You sometimes actually catch him dancing when he thinks no one's looking and you find it's the most adorable thing in the world, even after he realizes he's not alone and wants the earth to swallow him whole.
“Don't mind me, I'mma just crawl in a hole for a while...”
“No, no- Babe, it was amazing! I loved it! Pleaseeee show me more!”
Overall, he's a pretty good boyfriend all things considered.
He's incredibly overprotective of you, and will always give you advice and tools he thinks will be helpful if you're thinking of venturing outside of the Golf Course.
He asks Viva for dating advice CONSTANTLY and she DOES NOT let him live it down. Of course she has good ideas, though.
He'll pretty much do anything for you, even if it means going out of his comfort zone.
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Floyd
Another great candidate for being in a good relationship.
Need I explain myself with this man?
His entire personality revolves around being caring and understanding, so he's definitely always on the lookout for anything that makes you sad or uncomfortable and will fix it ASAP.
Floyd is the kind of person who will ask for consent with pretty much anything you do— from holding your hand, to kissing you, to giving you a hug; he will ALWAYS make sure that you're okay with it even if you've given him the green light in the past.
He's not huge on PDA due to his somewhat shy nature, but if you are, he'll try his best to keep up with you.
This doesn't mean he dislikes physical affection, in fact it's his love language. He'll go out of his way to try and sneak in as many hugs as possible throughout the day and maybe a kiss or two if you'll allow it, which of course you do.
You also try your best to get involved in his own interests, because that's only fair after everything he does for you.
It isn't until one day that he sings for you that you compliment him and he nonchalantly comments that he used to be in a band when he was a teenager.
Cue the reveal of him having four brothers and you begging him to tell you all about them.
Which he does, but you can't help but notice the melancholic expression on his face, so you immediately stop him and apologize for being pushy on the matter and that he doesn't have to share anything he doesn't want to talk about.
He only looks at you with a small smile and shakes his head.
“No, I'm glad you asked. I haven't talked about them in years, so I like remembering the good times, even if they're in the past now.”
So he'll go on and on about them, one by one, and go into excruciating detail about what kind of person they are and what he loves about them. He's especially fond of his little brother Branch, based on everything he tells you.
When he gets kidnapped by Velvet and Veneer, you immediately go to Branch for help.
Once you're reunited, you two basically run to each other and hug with tears streaming down your eyes.
“Did they hurt you?!”
“No, I'm okay! Did they hurt you?!”
“Who cares?”
“I do!”
Floyd is then incredibly happy to introduce you to his brothers, who begin to affectionately tease him about getting himself a partner and you happily step in to protect him from any unwanted bullying.
You also tell him that you like the new hairdo, which only causes him to giggle and kiss your forehead affectionately.
Honestly you guys probably have the healthiest relationship out of the whole group.
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Branch
I was really debating whether to include him or not since there's many Branch Reader Inserts out there, but I don't wanna leave my baby out so here we are!
You have a classic childhood friends to lovers situation with him, since you've known him ever since he was a member of BroZone, only being about a year older than him.
You'd help him practice for his concerts and would always give him pep talks whenever he felt worried that he'd ruin the show.
You're basically his number one fan— never missing a concert even if it meant dragging your parents with you so they'd let you get in.
The moment the group disbands and Branch is left all alone, you're there for him and wait alongside him for his brothers to return, reassuring him that ‘siblings would never break a promise’.
Cue his whole childhood trauma and him losing his colors, but it's only because of you that he doesn't completely isolate himself from society. He still builds his bunker though, since he's pretty much scarred for life thanks to the Bergens.
Just like with Clay, you're the one who takes initiative and asks him out, and he's just left gaping like a fish because why would you want someone like HIM?
After reuniting with John Dory, he's also dotting you about how big you've gotten and treats you like a baby, which actually irks Branch much more than it does to him.
He makes sure to remind his brothers that you both are grown adults, thank you very much.
Once the band gets back together, you kinda become a manager of some kind and help them in organizing their performances. Branch is eternally grateful and thanks you for staying by his side all these years.
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ddejavvu · 6 months
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omg part two for hotch scrolling through your ig pretty please 😭😭 like IMAGINE penelope gathering the rest of the gang so they can collectively stalk your instagram and she accidentally likes one of your pictures while lurking
Penelope isn't often scared of Hotch, because the man has a soft spot for her, and she knows it. But now he's staring at her with a stern glare, something she's not usually on the receiving end of. She shifts on her heels, strangely speechless.
"Sir? Is everything okay?"
He lets her suffer in silence for a moment longer, then gestures towards his phone face-up on the desk. It's lit up with a text notification, and she faintly recognizes the name that it's attached to.
Y/N Y/L/N: Isn't this your computer whiz?
"Open it." Hotch instructs, his voice unfailingly calm, which sets Penelope even further on edge. She reaches out with a trembling finger to tap on the notification and it opens your thread, the screen entirely consumed with a screenshot you'd taken of your instagram. Sure enough, in your notifications page is a note: baby_girl_penny_g liked your photo.
"Um," Penelope stalls, and despite her rampant creativity, she can't bring herself to fib, "Well, I- the tags were-"
"There were no hashtags," Hotch stops her in her tracks, "The only way you could have found that photo was on her profile. How long ago was that posted?"
Penelope scrolls to the bottom of the post even though she doesn't want to, and mutters "2018."
"Five years ago. Five-" Hotch steels himself before he gets too upset, pinching the slim bridge of his nose, "Garcia, did Morgan tell you about this?"
"it wasn't his fault," She pleads his case, "I could tell there was something on his mind! So I got him, like, super drunk, and we-"
"Penelope, this was none of your business." Hotch speaks over her. He doesn't like cutting her off, but he knows her, and she'll talk for hours just to try and weasel her way back into his good graces. He watches her squirm with a stern expression, hands folded on his desk while he clenches his jaw.
"I won't tell anyone else." She promises weakly, and Aaron raises a single eyebrow at her. Secret-keeping is not her forte, and they both know it.
"Okay, so-" She crumples, "I- I totally will. But Hotch, we're gonna be happy for you! I'm already happy for you, you deserve this! You deserve love, even if you try to use this job as an excuse not to find it! You found it, and you should own it."
"I purposefully did not share the status of my relationship with our team. It was meant to be private."
Penelope regains some of her boldness now, even in the face of Hotch's scowl, "Well tough shit, Hotchner! We love you, and we were all there when you lost Haley! We watched you die inside, and we deserve to watch you live again! We are part of your family, Hotch, whether you like it or not, and we're not gonna walk away just because you get snippy with us! So help me, Hotch, I will handcuff myself to you until you realize that we are here. We are here, and we love you, and we always will! You can tell us about your life, because we want to enjoy it with you."
Perhaps she shouldn't have been so forward. Perhaps she shouldn't have said the H-word, or brought up Hotch's infuriating tendency to distrust people's care for him not out of malice, but out of self-loathing. Perhaps she should have hung her head and apologized, but Penelope Garcia is headstrong, and she does not fear the tense wrath of Aaron Hotchner simply for loving him.
For a moment, she worries that she's flaunted a red cape around a bull. Reid's words echo in her mind about how it's nothing to do with the color red, and everything to do with the movement of the fabric, but now is not the time, Doctor Reid, thank you very much. She waits for him to charge, knows he'll withdraw now that she's faced him with the terror of being known, of being cared for, and she can feel her heart sink to the nearly-numb heels of her feet.
Then something in his jaw shifts, and he glances away from her, blinking.
"Thank you." He murmurs, and she thinks she may have heard him wrong.
"What?" She whispers, and he gnaws at the inside of his cheek, caving it in.
"Thank you. For being firm with me." He clarifies, "I... I'm glad that you're here."
Tears spring to her eyes and she nods vigorously, incapable of speech but overflowing with emotion. He swallows, clearing his throat, "In the future, please do not stalk my romantic partners. And... in the future, I will introduce you, so that you don't need to stalk them."
"Okay," She grins through her misty eyes, letting him steer the conversation back towards his comfort zone, "Okay, Hotch. We love you. And- and we're really happy for you, and can I please go and tell the others?"
He laughs despite himself, and doesn't bother steeling himself into composure anymore. He grins, "Fine. But leave out the details of her most recent posts, please."
"The ones where she talks about being sore in the mornings?" She fixes him with a devious grin, already making for the door intent on shouting the news from the rooftops, "I won't say it in the bullpen, 'cause Reid couldn't handle it, but I'm totally gossiping with the girls about it, Hotch."
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lyvhie · 28 days
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hi requesting a jeno x reader where jeno is so strong compared to reader and he gets turned on by that and it results in him manhandling reader -🦋
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boyfriend!jeno × fem!reader (18+ mdni)
summary: had a bad day? don't worry, he'll make it better.
a/n: so, FIRSTLY, i actually didn't understand the concept of manhandling in a sexual situation, but i tried my best after doing some research, i'm sorry if that's not what you wanted 🥺 i can try another one if you don't like it!
cw: smut, pwp, unprotected penetrative sex, petname.
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jeno wasn't sure when exactly he started to feel this way, but whatever it was that drove him crazy and made him feel so intensely was all your fault.
you were tiny, small, delicate—so much that he couldn't help but want to... break you. he knew he was stronger and bigger than you, and he couldn't help but feel the desire to exert that strength over you. it wasn't in a bad way, of course, but at first he was hesitant about that, like, what if you actually broke?!
however, you weren't quite so naive either. you had noticed his subtle glances at your neck, the certain intent in his gaze suggesting he wanted to wrap his hands around it as soon as he could.
and you were partly to blame; for example, you had toyed with him by squeezing his bicep or wrapping his arm around your neck in a side hug, all small, innocent actions that seemed purposely designed to provoke him further.
and then you gave him the chance to fulfill his desires. first, it started with just restricting your movements, like pinning your hands above your head with just one hand while the other held your waist to keep you in place as he was too busy burying his cock inside you.
then, it became him wrapping his hand around your neck, just light squeezes that were already making him thril inside, seeking for more, and you were more than happy to submit yourself to it.
he enjoyed seeing you helpless under him, and that's why, after a seemingly harmless discussion about "how was your day," you ended up bent over the kitchen counter. his hand pushed your face down against the cool surface—a small hint of dominance and control that leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.
the skirt of your dress was lifted until he had a nice view of your ass. your panties draped around your ankles as he thrusts into you from behind. the wet sound of his cock sliding through your slick folds was all you could hear, besides your loud moans, of course. “y-you should see yourself right now,” he said hoarsely, “all dumb because of my cock. does it feel good, huh?” he leans over you to lightly bite your shoulder, not really getting an answer from you.
feeling you body respond positively, jeno slides his hand around your neck and applies just enough pressure to make you gasp. he leans in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he says, "is this what you wanted? to be completely at my mercy?" not able speak, you nod frantically, your pants turning into whimpers. he squeezes tighter, controlling your air flow carefully as he continues to pound into you, each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body, making it difficult for you to breathe properly.
he groans when he feels your walls clenching around him, indicating that you were close, "let go, baby," he encourages hoarsely, his teeth grazing your earlobe and quickens his pace, his hips slamming into yours. he feels his own release building up, his muscles tensing with anticipation. he releases your hands and grabs onto your waist instead, pulling you back into him as he thrusts even harder.
your hands were holding the edge of the counter as you try to hold on, your body shaking from the intensity. jeno's finds its way to your clit, rubbing slow circles as he continues to choke you. seeing you like this drives him wild, knowing he's the one making you feel so good. "come for me, baby" he murmurs huskily, increasing the pressure on your sensitive bud. your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, your whole body convulsing as you cry out out his name. he follows shortly after, emptying himself inside you with a final grunt.
you stay like that for a moment, both trying to catch your breaths before jeno slowly removes his hand from your neck and pulls out of you, his seed dripping down your thighs. “wow, that was… wow,” you said still panting, making him chuckle and spins you around to face him, catching you when your legs buckle slightly. “are you good?” he asks softly, cupping your face and caressing your cheeks. “yeah, i think i'll always tell you that my day was terrible if that's your way of comforting me.”
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hyuckmov · 10 months
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himbo haechan pt.2
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first part here wc: 12.9k (!!!) genre: fluff, smut, a little angst if u squint warnings: shower sex, unprotected sex, masturbating, just the tip (!), handjobs, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, fingering, softdom/sub dynamics (haechan doing both), being ignored during sex (!!!), aftercare, creampie a/n: thank u for loving himbo haech and thank you for being patient with me :) this fic took me so long because i originally wasn't going to have a plot, but piecing together scenes didn't feel like it was a sincere effort for how much i loved himbo haech so i tried my best to do more <3 this MIGHT be the tamest thing i've written, if you followed me for filth i promise i will make it up to you in another fic LOL let me know what u think, i hope this is hot, and i really hope you like this !!!
haechan thinks he'll never forget the first time he meets you. 
for him, time slowed and there was no other explanation. his heartbeat rushed loud in his ears, a warm glow spread all throughout his body to the tips of his fingers. you had walked into the living room of the house party, angrily mouthing off someone who had spilled his drink on your sleeve, your voice traveling over to him over the undercurrent of the music blasting from the speakers, and he loved it. the sting of your tone, the way your chest rose and fell, the flush in your cheeks. 
he wanted to stand by you as close as he could and watch each shade of emotion flicker in your eyes, he wanted to hear the ring of your voice through your chest, he wanted every bit of your attention directed at him. for once in his life, he didn't just want to touch — he wanted to hold. 
"renjun…" he whispered, voice reverent and hushed like he was in a church. "i'm in love."  
"um…renjun left an hour ago…?" jaemin shifts uncomfortably on the sofa, leaning over haechan and waving his hand in front of his face. "i've been talking to you for the past 10 minutes about next week's hockey game…" 
absentmindedly, haechan grabs jaemin's wrist and pulls his hand away from his face, eyes still focused on the way you storm towards the kitchen. "okay renjun." 
he sees you walk out, a fresh drink in one hand, the other arm hooked around some guy who he's now forced to acknowledge. but he's nothing compared to haechan, and haechan knows if he tries, if he could just walk over to you, talk to you, get to know you… 
"haechan, no." and now mark has swooped into his vision, what was he doing here? grabbing him by the shoulders, mark speaks loudly and slowly to haechan, as if he was scolding a very small toddler. "she has a boyfriend." 
who? "um…" his brain skids through potential responses, but he can't make sense of anything mark is saying. "sorry to hear that…" he mumbles. 
"this is not the time to be snarky." 
where were you now? eyes searching for you over mark's shoulders, he tries to keep up with the conversation. "if you say so, mark."
"jaemin, what's wrong with him? is he drunk?" 
"i'm fine, mark–" impassioned, he grabs mark by the forearms, catching him off guard. haechan stumbles to his feet, patting his pockets for his phone, so he can save your number when he gets it, eyes sweeping the room again and finally spotting you as you step into a corridor leading off from the living room. even though his legs just aren't moving, his heart thunders in his chest in a way it hadn't for a long time, a thrum he couldn't keep up with. 
his stomach twists when he realises there’s only one explanation for how he feels towards you, as if he was on a rollercoaster about to tip over — a messy tangle of nerves and excitement all at once. 
"mark, i think i've found the one." 
x
"i can't believe i really get to hold you like this…" he murmured, in awe. 
haechan said something along these lines practically every time you cuddled in the evenings, and the words never faded in their sweetness. lost in his own thoughts, he stroked your hair with slightly shaky hands, and placed a gentle kiss to your temple. "i keep thinking i'm going to blink, and then the next second you'll be yelling at me again…" 
you feel a twinge of guilt, and you're just about to apologize when —
"…but also, i kind of miss that too…" 
there it was.
"do you want me to pretend to get mad at you?" you suggest, smiling a little as you climb on top of him. there's something reverent in the way he tilts his head up, never breaking eye contact as his hands instinctively come up to grip your waist and steady you. "or you could make me mad on purpose?"
"wouldn't be the first time…" he mumbles, the familiar cloudy look making its way into his irises, his gaze now unfocused and dazed as his eyes flick up and down your body. 
"really?" 
he nods. "never actually deleted our project, didn't actually submit a draft for the final assignment, didn't really lose your underwear…" 
a laugh rises up in your throat, half part incredulous and the other hopelessly endeared. 
"if you want me to be rough with you, next time, just ask me," you promise him, patting him on the chest lightly. 
"i mean…i keep thinking i want you to get mad at me, so we can fuck like we used to…" he scrunches his nose in thought, lowering his gaze. “but i just… there’s just…”
"but…?" 
"but also i really like making love to you," he whispers. "i love it so much, and i feel like, because we're at the start of our relationship it means more.” holding your hands in his now, he gives them a light squeeze. “and i don’t want to ruin that, you know?”
 your breath hitches in your throat, and all of a sudden you don’t know what to say. 
"does that make sense?" he asks, softly. "did i say something wrong?" 
“haechan….” you’re convinced your heart has melted in your chest, tears threatening to fall from your lashes from how raw and intimate he could be with his words. love was so easy to him, and he showed you time and time again that he wouldn’t change. “i love you so-”
“- so should we try shower sex?” 
you're speechless.
"from your lack of response, i'm guessing no… but-!" eagerly, he picks up his laptop from the side table, and holds it up so you can see the screen, covering his face all except for the puppy-eyes he's giving you. "look! having shower sex twice a week can reduce the risk of heart diseases by 50%!"
"haechan…"
"we have to do it!" he's so excited he drops his laptop on the bed to hold your hands in his, rubbing your fingers gently as he bounces with excitement. "so we don't get heart disease!"
"i don't think…"
"it also increases mindfulness because it engages all 5 of your senses…" he continues, words coming out in a rehearsed rush, and you can tell he's been researching this topic for a while. "didn't you tell me i should try being more mindful?" 
"i kind of meant it more like mindful of your surroundings…" you frown a little. "you still bump into people almost every time we turn a corner on the street…" 
"see, we just said the exact same thing," he breathes. "please?" 
and although you think you should be desensitized to him already, it still catches you off guard when he sits up to lean in closer. the swell of his lips, the flush shining on the tip of his nose and dusting his cheeks whenever he got excited. it shouldn't affect you, the lights reflected in his eyes, the way they're misty for god knows what reason, and the knowledge that if you asked why, his answer would be that it's because he loves you, so so much.  
"haechan…"
"i'll be really gentle…" he says, softly. rubbing hesitant circles on your bare waist with his thumb, he dips his head a little to hold your gaze. "i promise. i'll take care of you."
the words go straight to your gut, a sharp sting ringing high in your nose bridge as you feel a slight prickle of tears in your eyes. he's still looking at you with those eyes you fell for, gentle and patient, the same voice that always soothed and comforted you, with an undertone of fierce devotion that you craved.
melting into his arms, you tuck your head into the curve of his neck. your voice is shaky when you speak. "i'm about to cry," you grumble. "and we're just talking about shower sex." 
his laugh vibrates against your chest — the sound is warm, and it feels like home. "i'll take care of you," he repeats in a whisper, lips pressed against your hair. 
x
it really is every bit as sweet as he promised, when you find yourself pressed against the shower wall, strong arms lifting you up as he kisses you fiercely. 
"is this okay?" he murmurs, rutting against your core in rough pulses. "this way you don't have to focus on not slipping…" 
"yeah…" you gasp as he pushes you against the wall again, adjusting his grip on your thighs. the muscles in his arms tense, and the veins leading down to his fingertips are prominent under his skin. it's so unbelievably hot, the way his chest heaves with need, the soft whine in his breath as the tip of his cock catches against your entrance. 
"i can't wait," he blurts out, forehead pressing against yours as he rubs his cock against your wetness again, the blunt tip nudging against your clit and making you cling onto him tighter. "do you want me to prep you some more or… or can i…" 
you shake your head. "want you now," you tilt your head to kiss him and he surges towards you eagerly, suckling on your bottom lip hard, desperation heavy in the way he licks into your mouth. 
"i'm sorry, i love you, i'm sorry, you're so good to me…" he murmurs, pushing into you with a stretch that makes you tense. his hand soothes down your back, and he shifts you against the wall again. "fuck, i'm sorry baby, just a bit more…" your walls are tight and warm around him, sucking him in as he tries not to buck his hips into you, trying to be as gentle as he promised, mumbling apologies into your skin. 
the steam of the shower coiling around your skin and the feeling of being filled up by your boyfriend was almost too much to bear. thighs clamping around him, your mouth falls open as you grip onto his neck for support, fingers curling around the hair at the nape of his neck. and now he's whimpering, his hips jerking forward and suddenly you're taking all of him, filled to the brim by his thick cock. 
murmuring another apology, he licks shyly at your neck and presses a kiss to your sweet spot, marking your skin. his nose bumping against the curve of your neck making your heartbeat race, a sweetness you can't quite explain. 
"haechan, please move-" 
"i…" he swallows, lifting his head to face you. his pupils are blown out, his voice dropping an octave as his fingers tentatively stroke the side of your thigh. "fuck, baby, you have to relax." 
"i can't if you don't move-"
"i'm gonna cum if you keep squeezing around me like this," he admits, a small whimper escaping from the back of his throat when you only clench around him harder from his words. "please…" he freckles kisses down your throat, hand rubbing soothingly up your lower back as he pins you to the wall with his hips. slowly, you begin to relax into your position, his touch comforting you and slowing your heart rate down. 
"good girl," he praises, softly, with a kiss on your nose. 
your heart soars. 
he pushes forward, slowly setting a rhythm as he angles his hips deeper, closing his eyes as he melts into the feeling. his tip presses against a spot which makes you whimper, each vein and ridge of his length dragging against your walls and pushing you closer to the edge. your clit aches at the feeling of being stretched out, and you reluctantly take one hand off his shoulders to rub yourself with careful fingers. his hips stutter as you tighten around him again with your own movements, and it only spurs him on to chase both your highs faster. 
you start sliding down the wall, smooth tiles warm against your back from the water, but he's too far gone to care – shoving you carelessly higher as he thrusts harshly into you, eyes fluttering open to see the way your tits bounce from his movements, water droplets running down your curves and almost bringing tears to his eyes. 
"i wanna touch," his sounds rising in pitch, scratchy moans broken up by jumbled words and curses. "more, want more…" he jerks away one of his hands holding you up to palm at your chest, but you start to slip and he's forced to hold you up again. he's so frustrated he's half groaning, half begging. "please cum, want you to cum on me…"
you can't help the laugh that bubbles from your throat. "are you begging?" 
"YES-" he moans, loudly, the sound echoing through the bathroom, booming against the backdrop of running water. 
you laugh again, the hand slick at your clit sliding over to his mouth, tips of your fingers brushing his soft lips, and then he's cumming, warm and hot inside you, hips relentless as he all but fucks you into the wall, hands cushioning your hips yet gripping you in a way that would leave bruises of their own. the feeling of his cock throbbing inside you making you cum as well, thighs wrapping around his waist like a vice, body hypersensitive, feeling every single rivulet of water running down your skin. 
it's a while before you both drift back to the present moment, as he seems frozen in his position, chest heaving and eyes unfocused. 
as he lets you slide down to stand on your own two feet, his arms still holding you slumped against him, he groans low in his chest. 
"next time, we're doing this in the tub." 
x
part of being with haechan is getting to know his friends, which is why you're currently sitting in between haechan's legs, in a circle with them around a monopoly board as renjun complains about for what feels like the thousandth time. 
"this is so unfair," renjun grumbles, as he shoves a few paper bills in haechan's direction, crumpling them in the process. 
"the rent is $200. you only gave me $10." 
"i don't HAVE $200–" 
"then drink." haechan pushes the bottle towards him. "one shot for every $50 you owe me," he reminds him, smiling triumphantly. 
it was something jaemin and haechan had thought up together. a drinking game infused with monopoly, where no players would ever go bankrupt, as long as they kept drinking for the money they owed. 
as well as a shot whenever you passed go, whenever you bought a property, and a dozen other random rules designed to make everyone pass out before the night ended.
"haechan always wins," renjun jabs a finger at him accusatorily. "because he always gets y/n's help when the game starts —" 
"how is it my fault for having a smart girlfriend?" 
"if anything," jaemin chimes in, more for the fun of it than the actual argument. "you should pass her around each round, so we all get one chance at winning." 
haechan narrows his eyes, brows furrowed in suspicion. "is that a double entrée?"
"you mean double entendre," you mutter. 
"yeah, what she said." 
"you two need to relax," jaemin waves a hand in the air, dismissively. "no one wants to fuck your girlfriend." 
"why not?" 
"you're impossible." 
"but –" renjun hiccups, finishing the last of the soju. "it's also unfair that the more haechan drinks, the more rational he becomes. why do we still play drinking games with him? if we played monopoly sober—" 
haechan boos him vehemently, and jaemin joins in happily, switching sides in a heartbeat. 
"- haechan wouldn't stand a chance. he'd still be asking me what direction you went in on the board–" 
"that was my first time," he mumbles, self-consciously. you pat him on the shoulder, soothingly, and he takes the opportunity of renjun now yelling at jaemin, to study your face, brushing your hair away from your eyes. 
"are you okay? do you want some water?" 
your pause before answering is all he needs. truthfully, you tapped out after the third time haechan passed go, letting him take the reins as the excessive alcohol miraculously cleared his head. the more you drank, the more you craved skin-on-skin contact with him, getting spacey and quiet. haechan loved it, feeling you pliant and a little needy in his arms, but it worried him just as much when you couldn't bicker back and forth with him. 
helping you to your feet, he hooks his arm in yours and shuffles towards the kitchen, not even bothering to wave to jaemin and renjun, who were at that point heatedly dividing their assets over the game board. 
haechan pours a cup of water for you, his hands moving sure and steady under the fluorescent lights as he holds it up to your lips. you reach out to hold it yourself, but he stops you with a hum, tilting it up to your lips.
"i don't want you to drop it," he says, fondly. "take a sip?" 
feeling shy under his gaze, you drink carefully, dribbling some onto your chin when he lifts the cup too early. 
"messy baby," he teases, softly, his thumb brushing your lips as he wipes your chin carefully. 
 now you're sure the feeling in your stomach is not nausea from the alcohol, but the need to have your boyfriend pressed up against you right that second. a whine rises from the back of your throat – a habit you'd picked up from him, and you bury your face in his chest, making him laugh. the sound is deeper and warmer than you'd ever heard it, buzzing against your ear and making your chest fill with butterflies. you've never seen him like this. something authoritative in the way he guides you towards the kitchen counter, coaxing you to take another sip of water as he looks at you lovingly. 
"you should go to bed soon." sliding his phone out from his back pocket, he flashes his lockscreen at you – a photo of the two of you, taken on jaemin's film camera. 
distracted, you blink up at him. "why?" 
"you have that essay due tomorrow?" mindlessly drawing circles on your waist, he looks deep into your eyes, hoping you're really listening. "you told me you were almost done, but i know you always manage to find some way to make it more complicated…and your proofreading always takes hours…" 
it's a little hot, how clear-headed and coherent he was being, in the dead of night after rounds and rounds of drinks. fuck that, it was making you feel dizzy, the way he slid his palm onto your forehead to check your temperature when you don't respond.
"baby? are you with me?"
"renjun was right…this is so unfair," you mumble. "did you secretly stay sober or something?" 
"i'm hammered, actually." smiling, he takes his own sip of water from the cup. "can't you tell?" there's something tender in that moment, as the tip of his nose brushes against yours, as he pulls you closer and you can smell his fabric softener on the oversized shirt he's wearing. the faint perfume he wears fills your senses, and he smells so good, and his arms are so firm around you…
"haechan," you're a little breathless. "i need you." 
"what?" 
your hands fumble with his shirt, sliding underneath it to touch the bare skin of his waist, and he sucks in a sharp breath.
"fuck." he lowers his head, eyes closing as he takes a shuddering breath. "not right now, baby." 
"i know, i mean when they leave –" 
"i mean not today. not while you're this drunk, i'm sorry –" at the look on your face, he presses a quick kiss to both your cheeks, your forehead, the tip of your nose and finally your mouth. "i'm sorry," he repeats, softly. "it doesn't feel right." 
"i thought you wanted –"
"trust me, i do…" he bites his lip, and now he takes a step away from you, trying not to let the feeling of you in his arms affect his judgement.  "you have no idea how much i want to." 
"so –" 
"but not like this," he says, firmly. "i don't think we're ready for it right now. hey –" you're pulling away from him too, now trying to leave the kitchen. "i'm still going to help you take off your makeup and get undressed —" 
"yeah?" 
"and then we're going to go to bed." he pleads with you with his eyes. "i'll do everything with you in the morning, after you're done with your assignment, okay?" 
a beat. 
"y/n…" sternly, he tilts your chin up to look him in the eye, and it makes you shrink a little, but god it makes you want him more. "okay?" 
sullen, you nod. 
"use your words." 
fuck. "okay," you breathe, meekly, even though every impulse in your body is making you want to pull his body into yours. somewhere in the haze of your mind, you still can't shake the way his broad shoulders look under the light as he guides you out of the kitchen, your hand held tightly in his. 
x
the gentle morning light and the silence of your apartment is comforting, as you sip your drink and wait for the pain in your head to subside. 
after haechan had rejected you, he had kicked out renjun and jaemin, bringing you to bed immediately. wiping your skin with makeup wipes, and kissing you to ward you off as your hands kept wandering to him was probably the most torture you had ever put him through. you almost felt bad when you realised you truly couldn't spend time with him today either, your mind clearing and focusing on the assignment that haechan rightly pointed out you still had to complete. 
so when he slinks into the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, you lean into his touch instinctively, curving your body into his. 
it's also why his sudden gasp makes you jump. 
"what–" 
"angel…" he's starry-eyed, voice hushed and reverent as he gently brushes the underside of your boobs with his fingers. "are you not wearing anything under this shirt?" 
it was as if the him from last night had completely evaporated. "um, yeah…" 
"did i do something good?" his big hands shamelessly cup your breasts, squeezing them together as he sighs. "is this a reward?" 
"i mean…you were really responsible last night…" 
hopping up happily against the kitchen counter and sandwiching you between his legs, he kisses you on the mouth sweetly, barely able to contain his smile. "i love you," he whispers against your lips, hands roaming up your shirt and teasing over your nipples. "we're going to have so much fun today." 
"about that…" you place your hands over his own through your shirt, halting his movements. "you can't fuck me today, i'm sorry." 
he lets out a dramatic, betrayed gasp, heart-shaped lips parting and eyes glistening with hurt. "why would you say that?" 
you blink. "because it's true…?" 
"are you…are you finally sick of me…?" his hands drop from under your shirt, tracing a sad circle with his fingertip on his toned thighs. "of my cock?" 
"haechan, it's 8 in the morning." 
"is it your vibrator? has it replaced me?" 
"this has nothing to do with you —" 
"YOU'RE FUCKING RENJUN?" 
you wind your fingers into his hair and tug, harshly. 
it's not your favorite trick, you admit, because the reaction was always 50/50. he would get either even more distracted, or focus up and listen to you — even if for the purpose of discerning when you would be down to fuck next. 
today he lets out a quiet moan, head falling to your shoulder as his hands find your chest again.
"first the shirt, now this —" he mumbles, gloomily. "you're evil." 
"i'm busy." you push at his shoulders so he'll straighten up and face you, but his face is still resolutely nuzzled against your neck. 
"you're always busy," he bites back, frustrated. "last week, and the week before that, and the week before that." 
"yeah, because i go to college?" you remind him. "and you do too?"
"but can you really not spare 20 minutes?" he whines, lifting his head to look at you with hurt eyes. 
there's a pause, as he takes a deep breath. 
"i'm sorry —" 
"no, it's okay," he mumbles. "i shouldn't be pressuring you." biting his lip, he leans in again, resting his weight on yours. 
"how long will you be gone today?" he asks, quietly. 
"i'll be staying at home," you comfort him. 
"i can keep you company," he says, quickly. 
"haechan –" 
"i won't even distract you," he continues, his words a sharp contrast from how his pouty lips brushed your skin, casually starting to pepper kisses under your jaw. his voice dips low when he adds, "i can be good." 
"right." your focus has been ripped to shreds as his movements grow more needy, his touches on your chest making you arch into him for more. when his thumb circles your nipple, teeth biting down gently on the sweet spot on your neck, you can't help letting out a whimper, slumping against him just slightly as your knees start to feel weak. 
he laughs at that, finally straightening and pulling away from you. 
"yeah," he says, proudly. "there's no way you're sick of me and my cock."
x
a few hours later, all his bravado had completely melted away, the signature whine coming back to his voice.
"not done? still?"
"you're stressing me out." 
behind you, the boy lets out a wounded sound. "but i even got you those resources from the library…" 
"those were really helpful," you concede. you didn't know he had it in him, but apparently all the sessions you'd spent together in the library really paid off. "i just have a bit more to write."
the first hour, he'd been content with lying on the bed and watching you work at your desk. the second hour, he moved the whole desk closer to the bed, – almost breaking a lamp in the process –, so he could hold your hand and play with your fingers when you were scrolling through research articles. 
he dozed off when you had to type – a hand splayed firmly on your thigh, and when he woke up, eagerly pulling you towards the bed and hands already teasing under your waistband, you had quickly asked him if he could go to the library to get you a book that could help. 
which led you to where you sat now, between his spread legs in front of the coffee table, his hands holding your boobs as you struggled through your last few paragraphs.
"i'll wait," he says, softly, arms now falling to your waist as he pulls you in for a hug. you lean back on his chest, but you're surprised when he starts to stand, untangling himself from you and gently placing a pillow behind your back for support. 
you feel a little pathetic when you ask, "where are you going…?"
"i don't want to distract you, baby." he squats down and places a kiss on your cheek, his other hand caressing your face. "i'll wait for you in our room, okay?"
"okay…" you say, watching him shuffle to the bedroom, feeling that the room lost a bit of its energy. 
without haechan, you can focus a lot better, and you almost guiltily speed past the rest of your project, feeling bad for neglecting him. you don't even bother to check your writing again as you're submitting it, all your thoughts now concentrated on your boyfriend, alone in his room, waiting patiently for you to spend time with him. 
placing your laptop on the table, you make your way down the hallway, thinking about maybe being extra sweet to haechan as a thank you for being so supportive today, when your footsteps falter and you stop just outside your bedroom. 
because seeping out of the door are sounds of crying, choked sobs and whimpers of your name muffled but unmistakable. 
was he that upset? the forlorn expression on his face resurfaces his mind, the way his voice went quiet, how he begged that he could be good for you. maybe it wouldn't have hurt to indulge him a little in the morning — judging from the time now, you still probably would have made your deadline. 
"haechan?" you knock, hesitantly, but there's no reply, only a low, pained sound of…frustration? sadness? it worries you, so you push open the door gently, eyes immediately darting to the bed where he lays on the sheets.
and you freeze. 
because unlike the weepy, sad, haechan you had imagined, you're faced with something completely different – haechan, shirtless, leaning against the headboard, his legs twitching on the bed as he strokes his cock fast, hips bucking up into his fist as he throws his head back and moans loudly, cum splattered over his bare torso telling you he was overstimulating himself, again.
for how well you know him, you really should have seen this coming.
"i'm sorry, baby," he whimpers, hand still moving slowly despite being caught, and you can see how red he is all over — flushed cheeks and ears, the tip of his cock peeking out from his hand. "i wanted to be good for you, but i just- couldn't- wait…" 
crossing over to the bed, you sit by his side and look him in the eyes, his hand speeding up as he pants, looking back at you. 
"you like me that much? that you could cum just from thinking about me?" 
"yeah," he moans, his other hand now teasing his own nipple, pinching it and rolling it with his fingers. "c-can cum just from, looking at you, even if you're not d-doing anything…" 
"then you don't need me now, right?" 
"no –!" his clean hand darts out to grab onto your wrist, his other halting and squeezing the base of his cock, trying not to cum. "please, i need you so bad, want you to help me…" 
you sigh, pulling away from him. "i don't know, i'm not really in the mood right now," you lie. 
"please," he begs, trying to shuffle closer to you, but you back away. "i need to be inside you right now…" 
"but i'm still sore from last time. it hurts." you try to act like none of this is getting to you, but it's way too difficult, especially when haechan finally manages to kiss your neck, shuddering against you as his other hand gives a careful stroke. 
"what about just the tip?" he pleads, voice small. 
you roll your eyes. "as if you could be satisfied with just the tip –" 
"i'll be good…" he whines, softly. "just the tip, okay? just really need to feel you right now…it'll just be a bit of a stretch…" 
"you won't bottom out?" 
"no," he shifts uncomfortably, his hand squeezing tighter around the base as the thought of being in you, even just the tip, brings him closer to cumming than he would like. "i'll fuck you with just the tip, i promise." 
you barely give him the okay before he's tugging impatiently at the waistband of your barely-there shorts and panties, groaning loudly when his fingers drag through your folds. 
"you're killing me," he pants, shaky fingers rubbing your clit. "i'm gonna make you cum first, okay?" 
"just-" you try to keep your voice level, but when he slips a finger into your hole, your body crumples against his. "just make me cum on your cock –" 
"baby, i want to…" his lips are soft against yours, as he consoles you with short kisses. "but i might cum way too fast if i fuck you right now." 
"with just the tip," you remind him, biting back a moan when he slips in a second finger and starts making scissoring motions. 
"yeah, you want to be stretched out, hm?" he smiles when he feels you clench tighter around his fingers. "you don't mind if i don't fill you up?" 
internally, you start to curse yourself, because fuck you do want him to fill you up. "i don't mind…" you say, weakly, focusing instead on the way he was circling your clit as he crooks his fingers against your walls. 
"so warm and tight," he groans. "you're close, right?" 
"yes–" 
his movements on your clit speed up and your hips buck into his hand, grinding against his fingers. "fuck, that's so hot." his lips wrap around your nipple through your shirt, and you moan as he sucks wetly, lips brushing your chest as he speaks. "you look so pretty riding my fingers, baby." 
you tumble headfirst into your orgasm, body shuddering against his when he applies a sinful pressure against your clit, the way he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes too much to bear. he pulls his fingers out from between your legs, immediately sticking them in his mouth and sighing at the taste, his other hand caressing your hip soothingly. 
"lay down for me," he coaxes, touch gentle as he maneuvers your legs around his waist. running the tip of his cock through your soaked cunt, he lets out a shaky moan, tones rising dizzyingly higher as he presses against your entrance. 
"haechan…" you plead, as he nudges your clit with his cock, making your hips jolt.
he reaches out to squeeze your hand. "i'm right here," he murmurs, kissing your fingertips lightly as he brushes your hole with the pink head of his cock. his words make your chest flutter in a way that has nothing to do with the ache between your legs. "i'm here," he repeats, softly, as he slowly slips the bulbous tip of his cock into you, and you can feel yourself clench tight around him, sucking him in further despite his efforts to pull out. 
"can you cum like this?" his tone is still soft as he reaches to rub your clit, applying light pressure, fingers slipping from how wet you were. "because, i think i can cum like this, feels so sensitive…" he wags his hips a few times, feeling the head of his cock move inside you, and he moans weakly. "is this what you wanted, baby?" 
your legs clamp tight around his waist, trying not to move your own hips, focusing on his shallow thrusts and the slight pain of the stretch. in truth, you wanted him to push deeper into you, craving both the way his thick cock always made you feel full, and the feeling of him pressing you into the bed under his weight. you just had to hold out until he started begging for more. 
"feels so good, haechan," you praise, and he flushes, rubbing your clit even faster as he moves against you. 
"you don't-" he pants. "are you sure you don't want more? you're okay with this?" his voice sounds almost hopeful.
you nod again, tugging him towards you for a kiss, the slight shift in his position making his cock slide deeper into you. he moans low against your lips, breaking away quickly and pulling out entirely. "fuck, sorry–" 
but then he's shoving himself back into you roughly, going past the tip and sinking deep into your cunt as he lets out a satisfied groan, and you can feel his hips flush against yours as he covers you with his body. kissing you harshly, his tongue strokes the roof of your mouth as he moans again, hips now thrusting fast into yours, wet sounds filling the room as he pushes deep into you each time. 
"haechan!" 
"i'm sorry, i'm sorry," he gasps, although his hips are relentless against yours, hands pushing your thighs up so he can reach deeper into you, "i couldn't, you're so fucking wet and tight and warm –" you can feel him throb inside you as he fucks you, riled up by his own thoughts. "wanted to feel you all over me…" 
his angles his hips again, searching for your soft spot, holding your body tight against his. when he feels you tighten around him, back arching and nipples brushing against his in a way that makes electricity run down his spine, he bucks into you, your sounds in his ear telling him you were reaching your high. 
after being teased with his tip, you much appreciated the feeling of him being sheathed deep inside you, his cock nudging your sweet spot and making you clench harder around him each time. when his fingers find your clit again, it only takes a few seconds before you're cumming hard around him, feeling slick on your thighs with the force of your orgasm. seeing your cum form rings of white on his cock makes him whimper, and your lips brushing against his skin is all it takes for him to cum too, soaking your walls and making you hiss at the sensitivity. 
you lie there for a moment, basking in the feeling of him lying against you, feeling too tired and filthy to move. stroking his back tenderly, you notice his breathing doesn't even out as it usually does, and when you feel hot tears on your shoulder you jolt, alarmed. 
"haechan, what's wrong?" 
"did i hurt you?" he sniffles, lifting his weight off of you so he could check on your body. "i'm sorry, i know i promised just the tip, you said you were sore…" 
your heart flutters in your chest as he pulls out, wiping between your legs gently with his shirt even as tears run down his cheeks. "i d-didn't mean to hurt you…" he breathes. he closes your legs carefully, before running his hands over your thighs. "are you okay? please say you're okay…" 
"haechan, i'm fine, really,"  you sit up to reach him, but he quickly stops you, laying a hand on your shoulder.
"you should rest-" 
"haechan i was just…" you place your hand over his, intertwining your fingers in a reassuring manner. "i was just teasing. i wasn't actually sore." 
a sniffle. "really?" 
"yes, of course –" you squeeze his hand. "thank you for taking care of me." 
it takes a little more reassurance and a lot of kissing to get him to smile, as he prepares a hot bath for you, skidding off to the kitchen to make something for dinner. you eat dinner while cuddling with him in front of the television, your legs in his lap as he pours wine for the both of you, the glasses he bought to 'look smarter when i'm with you' slipping down his nose as he focuses his gaze on your lips for a little too long, watching your tongue dart out as you taste the wine. 
it's times like these – with his arms around your waist and his eyes never leaving yours as you tell him the most trivial thing about your day, — where you cannot imagine ever living a life before you were loved by him, and the very thought of a universe where the two of you couldn't speak to each other was enough to make your breath catch in your throat, and make your chest feel tight. 
"you okay?" he takes the wine glass from your hand, brushing his lips against yours softly. only haechan would think that kissing you would be a way to get you to focus.
"i'm thinking too much," you admit, leaning into him and pressing your cheek against his. 
"about…?" a kiss on your nose. 
when you looked at him again, your worries did seem to fall away. it didn't ever seem possible that he would fall out of love with you, or even think about replacing you, what with the way he was holding you so carefully, eyes doing that deep dive into your own that always left you feeling naked and vulnerable.
"i hate it when i can't read your mind," he murmurs, a little sadly. "i wish i had some way of knowing the right thing to do, all the time, whenever it comes to you." 
"i think you do," you say, softly, meaning every syllable of it. 
"okay…." he tilts his head to the side, thinking hard, lips jutting out into a sweet pout. "i think the right thing to do now…because you're overthinking things…"
you encourage him with a hum. "maybe we can make some tea –" 
" — i think i should fuck you stupid." 
a pause. 
"haechan…" 
"yeah i know, my idea is better." 
and scooping you up into his arms, he carries you, laughing, all the way to the bedroom, and you can admit that after that things do start to get a little blurry, your mind filled with nothing but him, and him, and him.
x
but haechan makes you feel so loved, that you almost forget the whole world is in love with him too. 
it's equal parts of annoyance and jealousy that stings at your chest when you see haechan surrounded at the back of the lecture hall, a group of girls forming a circle around him as he sits on the table, showing them something on his phone and kicking his feet restlessly like a little kid. was he giving them his number? 
"it's been like this every time i've picked him up from this lecture this past two weeks," you mutter to renjun. 
"ooh, i wonder how many of them he's slept with…" he muses at your side, his tone way too cheery. he had followed you as you made your way to pick haechan up from class, wanting to ask him something about the party happening that evening. "i think i recognise a few of them…" 
"renjun, i hope you know that i don't trust you. at all." 
"but i'm his best friend-" 
"you told me to pull on his hair to shut him up and he moaned-" 
"and look where you are now," he folds his arms triumphantly, a smug smile on his face. "happily celebrating your 2nd month with him." 
"to think that all i asked for was advice on how to shut him up," you mumble, but you still feel a warm glow in the tips of your fingers anyway. you always do, when you're reminded of how far you've come with haechan. 
a loud chorus of cooing and giggling comes from the corner of the hall, and you're sharply brought back to the present moment. 
"renjun…" you hesitate, wondering if it's exactly right to be asking this. "has haechan really…um…" 
"fucked a lot of girls?" renjun finishes your question. "how else do you think he gets so good at it?" 
your skin feels hot. "oh." 
renjun looks at you knowingly. "don't compare yourself to them, you know he doesn't do that." 
"doesn't he…?" you wonder out loud. the girls surrounding haechan were in a league of their own, pretty and confident in all the ways you weren't. you had never quite been with someone like haechan before, someone so well-known on campus, and in turn knew everyone's names and faces. you wanted to believe your differences were something sweet, an opposites attract situation where you always brought the balance he needed and could feel safe in, but a part of you would always wonder about whether he would ever get tired of it. 
"he hasn't talked about any other girl, past or present, since he's met you," renjun reassures, softly. "he really thinks you're the one." 
you think about haechan now, and you try to imagine how it would be like with someone else — his world revolving around them, the look of adoration in his eyes. it gives you a bitter taste in your mouth with how easy it is to imagine. "has he really never thought that about anyone else before?" 
renjun takes a moment to think. "if he has, he hasn't told us." 
and if you were honest with yourself, you don't know if that's enough to ease your mind. 
x
"well, i was thinking i would get this…" 
a loud chorus of nos erupts all around him, and he furrows his brow, a pout forming on his lips. 
"why not?" 
"it's a bracelet that's meant to lock in your love," karina warns. 
"so?" 
"it's possessive and claiming," karina advises, and the girls around her nod in agreement. "it's like a message saying – 'you're going to be with me forever-'"
"but i am going to be with her forever…" he protests, and a wave of awws coo all around him. forlorn, he looks back down at the photo of the cartier love bracelet he has saved in an album of gifts he was thinking of buying you. he hadn't even gotten to ask the girls about which color would match your skin tone before they had collectively agreed the bracelet wasn't a good idea. 
"haechan, it's 7 thousand dollars…" 
"she's worth it," he mumbles, the answer coming to him like it was common sense. "i'll get a job…i can always earn it back…"
"why don't you get her something she's mentioned?" giselle suggests. "like perfume she likes, or a book, or…" 
"i don't want to just get her…a book," he huffs. "i want to get her something she can wear all the time, and everytime she looks at it she'll think of me." 
"really?" she presses. "or do you just want her to show everyone she's yours?" 
"i mean, yeah-" he runs his hand through his hair, shaking it roughly to clear his head. "i mean, maybe? i don't know…" 
another round of cooing starts up, as the girls lean in a little closer, patting him on the back or placing a comforting hand on his arm. 
"i guess i've been feeling like i want her attention…maybe…" he kicks his feet in the air frustratedly. 
"you should talk to her," winter suggests. "aren't you the one who's always talking about open communication?" 
"i love communication," he mopes. "but when i'm with her i get scared…i get so scared of losing her i don't know what to say…"
some of the girls clutch at their hearts, others pulling him into hugs. 
"thank you guys…" he says, earnestly. "i'll think about your advice…" 
"ready to go?"
he jolts at your voice, back straightening and head whipping around to face you. 
"hi!" he blurts out, a little flustered and giddy. "yeah, i'm ready…" he grabs a bunch of papers from beside him and shoves them into his bag haphazardly, slinging one strap over his shoulder as he plucks your laptop from your hands, carrying it for you like he always does. 
"say goodbye to everyone, haechan." he thinks he catches something in your tone – you're trying to keep it light, but something sounds off. 
"byebye girls-" he mumbles, obediently, hopping off the table and standing next to you. when the chorus of goodbyes echoes back, he thinks you walk just a little bit faster, making it harder for him to loop his free arm around your shoulder…
it worries him. 
"you're coming to the party later right?" 
you push open the door with a bit too much force, and he shouldn't be distracted, shouldn't be deterred from his mission to find you the perfect gift and figure out why you were upset, but his thoughts flood with the image of you pushing him around too — and it's like he can feel your touch, the way he imagines it, heavy and warm against his chest. 
it's like he's underwater, as you reply a curt "yes" to his question, because he wants you to shove him against a wall and push him, hard, until he's breathless. you're walking, back to your apartment he presumes, eyes fixed on the road ahead and the way you're blatantly ignoring him also makes his heart hammer fast. he wonders what things he can get away with as you ignore him, wonders if you'll ever let him touch you while you're on your phone, or-
"- get ready at my place?" 
what?
you've stopped walking. your hands are crossed over your chest.
"so? do you want to come?" 
cum? 
"yes please," he breathes. "i mean, if you want me to, but i also want you to cum…" 
"come where?" 
cum where? holy fuck. 
"on my face" he answers, eagerly. "we haven't done that in ages —" 
his face falls when it registers that the groan you let out is out of frustration, and not the sound he usually hears ringing in his ears when he curls his fingers just right. 
"haechan, focus." you grip him by the shoulders, choosing to ignore the fact that giving him commands was always a surefire way to get him to lose focus. "do you want to come home with me as i get ready for the party? or do you want to go help your friends set up?" 
"with you," he says, quickly. 
"the party starts in 30 minutes, i don't think we'll have time to do…" you wave your hand haphazardly. "whatever you're thinking of." 
"sit on my face?" 
"yeah, that." 
whining, he links his arm into yours as you cross the street together. "is this becoming a theme in our relationship? you telling me we don't have time and us just fucking anyway?" 
"uh…"
"is it like…your kink? because it's really annoying," he fishes out the keycard to your apartment complex, clumsily tapping it against the sensor and failing to unlock the door in his frustration, shoving against it far too hard and making the glass shake. "ah, fuck–" 
"i'll do it," you brush past him, taking the keycard from his hand. "calm down, please, haechan." 
"it's not just about fucking," his voice is rough. "okay, well, this thing with you ignoring me, it's growing on me i'll admit. i can see us doing something with that in the future –" he's talking way too loudly about this in the lift lobby, urgency in his tone making his voice ring in the space. "but i also need to feel like you want me around, you know?" 
"of course i want you around." you blink, surprised. your voice softens when you cup his face in your hands, forcing him to look at your face. "are you serious? is that what you really think?"
"i dunno…" the question 'do you just want to show everyone she's yours?' echoes around in his head, and he winces at the thought of it, possessive and needy. he tries to backtrack, mumbling out, "i don't know why i said that." 
you bite your lip. something was off with him. you were both worried about things you couldn't articulate quite yet, and you knew everything would work out if you just talked about it and came up with ways to reassure each other. 
and usually he was the first one to sit you down and get you talking about what was on your mind (like the time you were upset he kept staying up gaming), or communicate his own thoughts no matter how jumbled (like the time he was convinced your ex was cursing your relationship with 'bad vibes'). 
but today he's quiet all of a sudden, wide-eyes staring up at yours hesitantly, and it hurts. 
"okay," you say, softly, letting go of his face. 
"what?" 
"okay," you repeat, stepping into the elevator. "when you're ready to talk about it, you can let me know." holding open the elevator doors with one hand, you're even more confused when haechan takes a step back, hands shoved deeply into his pockets as he looks up at you. 
"i'll go help set up the party…" he watches your brow furrow, and hastens to add, "if that's okay?" 
and even though all your instincts are telling you to coddle him, to beg him to tell you what's wrong and to kiss the pout off his face, you nod and step back into the lift. 
"yeah, i'll see you later." 
it's pathetic how much you miss him once the lift doors close. 
x
when you arrive at the party, haechan is nowhere to be seen, something renjun is very angry about. you end on the balcony with jaemin, half part ensuring he doesn't do anything impulsive, and the other part…
"so you're jealous because haechan knows many beautiful, confident, and smart women who he could easily replace you with?" 
jaemin was just coherent enough to give sound advice, and just tipsy enough to be very blunt about it. 
"so you think it's a valid concern?" you press. 
"you know what, when he gets here…" jaemin pauses, swishing the contents around in his cup contemplatively. "ask him to take you upstairs." 
"to do what?" 
"fuck, obviously," he looks at you, disgusted. "is this your first day dating him?" 
"why would i do that?" 
"just trust me on this." he takes another sip. "do you think he'll say yes?"
"of course," you roll your eyes. "is this your first day knowing him? we were just fighting about it-" you break off, realizing you said it was a fight. 
"you guys had a fight?" now jaemin sits up, interested. 
"not really, i mean…" was it a fight? "something slipped out about me not spending enough time with him." 
"i can see that," jaemin muses, brown hair falling over his eyes as he tilts his head this way and that. "he's always liked attention." 
"but he usually loves to talk things out…today he just walked away." your voice is small, missing him again as you thought about him. 
jaemin smiles, knowingly. "he's just scared." 
"really?" 
"yeah, i remember when he first met you –" he stops abruptly. "oh, he's here." 
your head snaps up as you look through the glass doors of the balcony, and sure enough, haechan had shuffled into the living room, eyes scanning the room, before disappearing behind a crowd of people.
"what did you say to him?" jaemin marvels. "he looks so defeated." 
"i didn't say anything," you mumble, guilt once again crashing through you. "i'm gonna go now, okay?" 
not listening out for a reply, you slide open the doors hastily, doing a quick survey of the living room to see if he was there. your heart stops when you see him standing in a corridor off the living room, leaning against the wall in the leather jacket he knew you liked. his eyes meet yours, hesitance written all over his features, but also a kind of tenderness and warmth that was so familiar. 
you make your way to him, watching as he straightens, hands reaching out for you before you've even reached the corridor, and the first thing he does is envelop you in a hug. his arms wrap around you and squeeze you tight against his chest as he rests his chin on your head, cradling you in his touch as he sways slightly. 
he doesn't say a word as he gently breaks the embrace to kiss you, holding your face tenderly in his hands, palms sliding around to the back of your neck as he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. his tongue slides against yours, and his fingertips tremble just a bit against your skin. 
even when you break apart, he still doesn't speak just yet, eyes staring closely at yours, and you held the eye contact, feeling like he was reaching his hands into your heart as he pulls you a little closer. 
"i'm sorry," he begins. "i shouldn't have walked off. i wanted to talk to you but i was afraid i would say something wrong." 
"it's okay–" 
"wait." he exhales. "i rehearsed this on the way here, could you forgive me a bit later?" 
you feel yourself smile as you pull him into another hug, which he returns. 
"now i'm just thinking about how good you smell," he mumbles into your hair, a little begrudgingly. 
"it's okay if it's not rehearsed," you tell him, softly. 
"but i don't want you to misunderstand," he insists. "i think recently i've been feeling like you don't really have time for me…or that i have to earn your attention…" 
"haechan–" 
"and it's hot sometimes," he emphasises. "but other times…" 
"i'll get better at balancing things," you promise. "i miss you too, you know. when i'm always stuck at the library." he's looking at you with that starry-eyed expression again, and you wish you had just told him all of this sooner. 
"is that what was bothering you?" he asks, gently. 
you could just end the whole thing now, brush past the sick flutter inside your chest and tell him there was nothing else. but the thought of stepping out into the corridor and losing him to the crowd was too much to bear. 
jaemin's advice flits into your head, and you grasp at it like a lifeline. 
"haechan, if i asked you to go upstairs with me now, what would you say?" 
"to do what?" he asks, curiosity making his eyes widen. 
"you know…" feeling a little stupid, why hadn't you pressed for more information from jaemin?, you looped your fingers around his belt loops and tugged him a little closer. "so i can pay attention to you?" 
"um…are you really distracted right now…?" 
"to fuck, haechan." 
his jaw drops and he freezes, melodramatically, for a split second. 
"haechan?" 
spluttering back to life, he grips onto your arms. "is everything okay?" a hand comes up and brushes your forehead, feeling for your temperature. "are you sick? do you want me to take you home?" 
"haechan," exasperated, you roll your eyes and shove him a little so he backs away from you. he's still peering at you with disbelief, eyes scanning your frame, and you just know he's trying to see if your face is flushed, or if you're drunk. "stop looking at me like that," you mumble. "why are you so surprised? as if you've never fucked anyone upstairs at a party before –"
"i mean, yeah," he chokes. "but that's…that's just for fun." 
"so we can't have fun?" 
"no!" he screws his face up in concentration. "that's not what i mean." 
"so…you don't want to take me upstairs?" 
he shakes his head, firmly. 
"...but you were fine with taking girls upstairs in the past?"
he exhales frustratedly, rubbing his temples, words swallowed by his pouty lips as he tries to explain. "you're… you're different to me."
"what-"
"i want everything to be perfect," he says, softly. "i can't do that in some random guy's bedroom. i want to take my time with you, and i want you to know i love you." he takes a deep breath, and his voice drops an octave when he next opens his mouth. 
"i can't do that upstairs, and i've never done it with anyone else before." looking up at you through his lashes, there's a small smile on his face as his hands reach out to hold yours. "that's what you're worried about, right?" 
"when did you get so eloquent?" you ask, quietly, feeling heat rise to your cheeks and light up your body with warmth. 
doe eyes look at you, fascinated. "what does eloquent mean?" and then, eagerness rising in his voice, "does it mean hot? do you want me to take us home now?" 
you push forward and kiss him on the lips, hands squeezing his waist and drawing a whimper from the back of his throat. working your way down to his throat, you suckle on the mole that lies just under his jaw, working your way down and drawing another choked sound from him as he realises what you're doing. he scrabbles at his shirt desperately, unbuttoning the top buttons with clumsy hands just as you finish marking his throat.
"here," he whispers, tapping at the mole on his chest, and you smile, kissing it gently. "and here –" he unbuttons his shirt a bit more, tugging at the sleeve so you can see another mole under his ribcage. "one more –" 
"baby, are you going to take off all your clothes in the middle of this corridor?" 
"if you kiss all of them, i will." he says, determined, hands now going to his belt buckle. 
"let's just go home." when he starts to splutter in protest, hands now pulling the belt off his belt loops, you hastily take his hands in yours to stop him. "so i can see them better, okay? it's too dark here." 
flushed, he nods quickly, bouncing on his toes as he does up his belt again. 
"just so you can see better," he echoes, shyly. 
x
you wake up when haechan gets back into bed. 
he's washed his face and brushed his teeth, you can smell mint on his breath and freshly applied perfume when he presses a light kiss to your cheek, watching him out of your barely-open eyes. it's endlessly endearing that he cares about how he tastes and smells to you, even after months of being together.
"baby," he whispers, the familiar excitement in his tone. hands roaming your skin, he drags down the collar of your shirt with a fingertip, pressing a kiss low on your collarbone, the other rubbing indulgently over your bare stomach. "baby, are you up?"
it had been about a week since the party, and haechan and you had promised to make time for each other in the mornings, waking up a little earlier every day. sometimes you lay and talked about the day ahead, sometimes you would both agree to sleep in. and other times… 
his hand slides into yours, as he presses a few more sloppy kisses to your neck, flicking his tongue against your jaw. he was extra touchy whenever he just woke, seeking your warmth under his palms and tangling his legs in yours. "baby…i need you." 
lying still, you shut your eyes firmly, slowing down your breaths as if you were asleep. it's a moment before haechan gives up, placing one last kiss on your shoulder before you feel him sigh against your skin. opening your eyes just slightly, you see him lying on his back — staring at the ceiling with a pout on his face, one hand rubbing absentmindedly on your hip. 
a week ago it would have been too soon, but now's the perfect time to try it as you slide your hand over to his shorts, feeling the silky smooth skin of his upper thighs as you lightly drag the fabric up. 
his breath hitches. "y/n?" 
keeping your eyes shut and your head turned towards the sheets, you ghost your hand over the front of his shorts, the fabric stretched around his length. tracing over the outline of his cock, you squeeze him lightly, drawing an achy moan. 
"baby…" his voice is hesitant. "what are you doing?" 
you resist the urge to respond, his voice and his heavy breathing the only sounds in the room, amplified in the cold morning. you hear him take another shaky breath when you slide your hand under his waistband, skin hot to touch, and grip the base of his hard cock, feeling it twitch slightly under your touch. his legs slide restlessly against the sheets, hips shifting, trying to get you to move your hand. 
"y/n?" he tries again, before letting out a hiss as your fingers move up to his dripping tip, rubbing at his slit gently. "fuck, okay," he pants, cutting himself off with a shaky moan as you pump his thick length with your fist, fingers barely forming a complete ring. he was leaking so much precum, more than you've ever felt before, cock throbbing and twitching heavily against your palm, making you press your thighs tightly together, trying to focus. his hips buck up into your hand sporadically as he loses control of his movements, and you indulge him by keeping a steady grip, letting him fuck your fist. 
you hear a familiar choke, and you open your eyes wider by just a sliver, to see tears running down his cheeks, the tip of his nose red. his mouth hangs open, lips wet with saliva and tears, drooling slightly from the corners of his mouth. he's been moving his head this way and that on his pillow, his hair mussed up and falling over his eyes, a complete wreck from you fulfilling his fantasy. 
slowly, you open your eyes as you release him, bringing your slick covered hand up to his face and wiping his tears and drool away as best you could. his head snaps in your direction, panting heavily and eyes half-lidded with lust, searching for yours. 
"please don't stop," he begs. "please, i wanna cum–" 
you close your eyes, hand falling to the sheets next to you as you pretend to settle in again, pulling the thin blanket over you. the only sound in the room is haechan's small, achy voice, whimpering "please, please, please" over and over again, punctuated by sniffles. 
and then, you feel your covers being lifted, heavy hands landing on your waist. 
"let's see if you can ignore me through this, angel." haechan's voice is dark, as he tugs down your shorts and panties with an urgency and desperation you know well. you feel the sting of cold air as your thighs, wet with slick, are held open by his arms, a groan rumbling low from his throat as he takes in the sight of your wet core. "look at me," he demands, making his tongue lie flat and wide as he licks up the arousal leaking onto your thighs and the outside of your core. 
with your eyes closed, each press of his tongue on your skin is magnified by the thousands. you've never felt so sensitive, and you swear you could cum just from the way he kitten licks at your clit, breathing heavily against your sopping heat. but you couldn't look. 
"stubborn baby," he mouths against your folds, tongue dipping into your hole and letting out a satisfied hum at the taste. "you look so pretty, pressed up to my face like this," he praises, one hand releasing your thigh and sliding a finger into you. "you're so tight..." he slides his finger in deeper, pressing against your spongy walls. smiling, he presses his tongue onto your clit, applying a pressure that made you clench even harder around him. "always so tight for me, i don't fuck you enough, hm? squeezing around my tip –" he strokes your walls with the tip of his finger, feeling you pulse. "just like that," he mumbles. 
haechan rarely talked so much while he was eating you out, but now he just couldn't seem to stop, loving the way his voice filled the room, covering your little choked whimpers and moans that you tried to bite back. 
"could play with you for hours," he groans, adding another finger. "you look so cute stretched out over my fingers." he curls his fingers towards the front of your walls, brushing past a spot that makes your hips jerk up, and a moan slip past your lips. "you like that?" 
but then he's withdrawing his fingers entirely, smearing your arousal messily around your folds before circling up to your clit, fingers slipping as he rubs the sensitive nub. "you're dripping," he breathes, dipping back to your entrance, laughing cruelly when he feels your hole clench around nothing. "when you wake up…" he says, sarcastically, and the tone makes your stomach twist. where did he learn all this? "you can beg me to fill you up. are you having a nice dream, baby?" 
you feel him sink down to the bed again, his hair tickling your inner thighs as his mouth attaches to your core, messily frenching your folds. "so swollen," he mumbles, now circling your clit and flicking it lightly with the tip of his tongue, a stinging pressure. "i wish i knew what you needed, sweetheart," his voice is sad, and you just know that if you opened your eyes you would see his own, blinking back at yours innocently. "do you need me here?" he presses your clit the way he knew you craved, mimicking a vibrating motion with his wrist. "or here?" three fingers shove deep into your cunt, and your back arches. "both? or…" you feel him rise, hands guiding your knees to your chest, and you finally, finally open your eyes. 
the sunrise is beautiful against his golden skin, stinging at your eyes as you blink back tears fogging your vision. his face is tear-streaked, hair still a mess, your eyes tracing the light illuminating the moles on his neck, his chest, his torso, his thighs. he lines himself up to your entrance, kissing the side of your knee lovingly. 
"good morning, baby," he smiles, eyes crinkling. "i'm going to fuck you now." 
"haechan-" your voice is hoarse from lack of use. "do you want to try it from the back?" 
there's a pause.
"fuck yes," he groans, his hands moving you effortlessly, helping you get on all fours. you arch your back, pressing your face against the sheets as you wiggle your hips in the air, hearing a moan rise from his throat as he fists his length urgently. 
"hurry up," you whine. 
"hurry up…" he mocks, giggling as he runs his hands down your spine. "you're so spoiled, princess." his hands grasp at your hips, and you feel something heavy push between your legs, his tip pushing into you, the initial stretch making you tense.
"fuck…ah–" he bottoms out, feeling your walls pulse around him, holding still so you can adjust. "you're so tight like this, fuck." when you let out another whimper, he starts to pull out, body stiffening. "are you okay? can i –" 
"please move," you whimper, hips jolting as you start fucking yourself on his length, need surging through your body. his hips snap against yours, wet sounds filling the room as skin meets skin. his hand comes around to touch your clit, rubbing it harshly, and you cum instantly, stars blotting your vision as your knees go weak. 
"just a bit more, baby," he whimpers, speeding up to chase his high. "you want me to fill you up? fuck you so full of my cum you can't ignore it?" pulling you up, he grasps at your breasts, kneading the soft mounds in his hands and pinching at a hard nipple. the moan you let out pushes him over the edge as he cums, hard, warmth shooting into you and coating your walls as you milk him dry, sensitivity making you clench around him again.
"i love you," he whispers, kissing you sweetly on the nape of your neck before pulling out, wincing at the feeling. you lie back on the sheets, winded, as he gets a towel from the bedside cabinet and wipes your thighs dry, purposefully pushing some of the cum leaking out of your entrance back in with a gentle finger, your thighs shaking at the feeling. you make grabby hands at him and he smiles, putting down the towel before all but jumping into your arms, kissing you again on the neck and nuzzling against your shoulder. 
"so?" he raises his eyebrows. 
"so what?" 
"it's hot, right?" he gushes, eyes sparkling. "the ignoring thing? fuck, when i kept calling for you and you closed your eyes…" he sighs. "you're my dream girl," he says, sincerely. "do you know that?"
"i'm your dream girl because i ignore you?" 
"we should only do this once in a while…" he's lost in his own world, brows furrowing as he chews on his cheek in thought. "i miss hearing your pretty sounds…" 
"or maybe you could ignore me," you suggest, sleepiness taking over your body again as you curl up closer to him.
"you really are my dream girl," he marvels, planting a light kiss on your forehead as you drift off, safe in his arms.
x
"we have a problem." 
"the problem we have," you correct him, as he locks the bathroom door behind you. "is we should stop coming to these parties."
"he keeps looking at you," haechan huffs, his eyes trained on your body. "and i get it, because i look at you and i want you now but –" frustrated, he tugs a little at the hem of your dress, which was currently riding high on your thighs as you sat on the bathroom sink. "but you're mine." 
"be honest, do you wish you bought me that $7000 bracelet now?" you tease. 
at haechan's encouragement, you had started to befriend karina and her friends, finding their confidence and enthusiasm infectious and endearingly reminiscent of your boyfriend. they had told you that he spent weeks meeting them after lectures, asking for advice on the littlest things – like how to be there for you on your period, how to help you pick out an outfit, and how to choose gifts.
"very much so," he groans, and you pull him towards you, giving him a kiss. it's when he's kissing down your neck, your breaths becoming shallow, hands pawing absentmindedly at his chest, when he suddenly freezes, an idea forming in his mind. 
"do you think i can spell my name on your neck in hickeys?" tracing the letters with his fingertips, he furrows his brow, mumbling to himself. "maybe just the initials? or one letter. or a symbol…" 
"you're so stupid-" you cut yourself off, slotting your lips with his again. when you break apart, there's a softness in his eyes, his tone low and hesitant. 
"you like it…" he runs his tongue over his lower lip, hands fiddling with the hem of his shirt. "right?" 
"haechan…" you wrap your arms around him, feeling him relax into your hold. "i love you," you say, softly, in his ear. you feel him smile against your neck, murmuring back a soft i love you too, the fact that he never let it go unanswered making you feel giddy and lovestruck all over again. 
"i know what to do," he beams, pushing you gently against the wall and letting his body cage you in — and when he starts sucking a mark onto your skin, you have a vague idea of what it's going to be. 
x
when you rejoin the party, the music is still blasting loud as if you've never left, the energy feeds into haechan's enthusiasm as he taps, or rather, hits the shoulder of the first person he sees coming out of the bathroom, who happens to be jaemin. 
"JAEMIN." 
"shut the fuck- oh." jaemin turns, raising his eyebrows when he sees the two of you. "going home?" 
"just bear with it," you mumble, feeling your cheeks heat up as haechan puffs his chest out proudly, clearing his throat to speak. "he's doing a thing." 
"she's mine," he crows, proudly. tracing one of the marks on your neck, he beams up at jaemin with starry eyes. "i did this to her." 
"cool." the boy flashes him a thumbs up, which haechan returns enthusiastically. voice dropping low, jaemin leans in. "is he going to repeat this to everyone you bump into on the way out?" 
you see haechan waving at renjun, signaling that you were about to be tugged over. "i think so." 
jaemin nods slowly, lips stretching into a smile. "you're a lucky girl, y/n." 
you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. you take in the glow of your skin, the hickeys scattered across your neck and collarbones, your styled hair completely messed up around your face. you take in the arms around your waist, the man next to you peeking at you from the corner of his eye as if he couldn't believe you were there pressed against him, his own hair tousled and wild. 
and you feel yourself smile. 
x
bonus: 
"mark, i think i've found the one." 
"and i told you, she's with someone–" 
"leave it." jaemin murmurs. "he's haechan. she'll probably leave whoever she's with because of him." 
"haechan," but mark's voice is insistent on pinning him to reality as he puts both hands on haechan's cheeks, forcing his head to turn so he's looking him in the eyes. "if you're not serious about it…" 
"but i am." haechan is a little breathless as he sways on the spot, eyes finally focused on mark's. "i really want to talk to her…"
"that's not-" 
"but i don't want to mess up." swallowing, haechan runs his hand through his hair. "what if i say the wrong thing, what if she thinks i'm stupid." his eyes search the crowd for you again, before settling back on mark's round ones. "mark…" his voice is soft, and just a little bit scared. 
"what if she doesn't like me?" 
mark's hands fall away as he takes in the little bit of wild sincerity in haechan's eyes, and the hesitance he hadn't quite seen before. 
it takes a lot of encouragement, to finally persuade haechan to meander his way over into the corridor he's sure you haven't stepped out of. even then, his steps are unsure and faltering, panicked eyes finding mark and jaemin's in the crowd seeking reassurance, and mark thinks when he finally meets you he isn't going to make the best first impression at all. 
haechan was someone who dove into things, who felt emotions as hard as he possibly could, running headfirst into everything in life without knowledge or fear of consequence. 
maybe there was some credit to his the one theory, mark thinks, because you were the one thing haechan couldn't even start to walk towards for fear of losing in the crowd. 
mark had a good feeling about this — something told him that it would all work out eventually. 
taglist: @luafvr @liliansun @hotmessexpress35 @ery-noice @tddyhyck @xenkimmie @ofjunemoment @neochan @acidwon @babyjenono @kittydollzz @smwhrinthehaze
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feyascorner · 3 months
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Imagine Tav who has a thing for deep voices (ahem Astarion’s when he gets all low and breathy and AHHHHH) and he notices. I’d combust
AGLAGKJL I HAVE OTHER REQUESTS BUT I SAW THIS AND I HAD TO WRITE IT IMMEIDATELY HES JUST SOOO....also warning this is a bit suggestive nothing terrible but i also haven't written anything other than fluff and angst in ages so i might be a little rusty....
You have barely any breath left in your lungs, and you think you wouldn't mind dying this way. He shoves the door to your shared room open with his back as you push him through it, lips molding against his in a heated wave of passion. Your fingers entangle themselves in his white curls, pulling at them just gently enough to draw out a low groan from his throat, and in an instant, he has your back pressed against the wall, both hands holding either side of your face as if it's the last time he'll get to touch you.
And as much as you wouldn't mind dying from suffocation here, being ever so perceptive, he pulls away to lean his forehead against your own, watching as your chest heaves up and down in a helpless attempt to catch your breath. He pinches one of your cheeks. "It's a relief that one of us needs air to remain conscious. If you were to become like myself, I'm not confident we'd actually ever stop."
"I never said we needed to stop," you say breathlessly.
"You don't need to tell me," he leans forward to press his lips against the area where he usually sinks his teeth into your neck. Instead of the familiar prick, all you feel are his cool lips peppering kisses on your skin. "Your body, and how it responds to me...it does all the talking for you."
And much to your embarrassment, his words are sent straight to the hammering of your heart. It must be the way he says it---so softly, yet rough. Teasing, yet honest. Low enough to drop his voice an octave but not enough to take away its usual charm. And the worst is the breathiness adorning his very words. For someone who doesn't need to breathe, he certainly sounds like he does it a lot.
You feel him nip at a sensitive spot of your neck and practically yelp, earning a snicker from the culprit in front of you.
"Your heart's beating quite fast, darling," he says slowly, almost in a whisper. "Are just a few words enough to rile you up so much?"
You remain silent, afraid all sanity you have left will snap if you dare to speak.
"But that's not all, is it? No, my sweet, you only feel this way about my words because I'm the one saying it," you can hear the grin in his tone. He pulls away from your neck, lifting his head back where he can meet your eyes. "Do you like when I say things like this? Vulnerable? Sensual? Seductive?--"
You slap your palms across his mouth, heat practically radiating off of your face, as you feel his fangs through his smile. He knows, you think, face paling. He knows how you respond to just his stupid voice, and you know him more than enough to expect the worst from the power you've given him. It's humiliating almost---but more than anything, you want him to shut up. To stop talking to you in that way that brings butterflies to your stomach, to stop looking at you as if you're the most desirable person in all of Faerun, to stop just existing in the moment---
Astarion gently pries your hands away from his face, satisfaction more than apparent in his expression. "No use being bashful now. I'm not offended at all. If anything, I'm rather flattered to know you find even my voice as attractive as the rest of me."
"Please stop talking."
"You don't mean that, clearly."
You grab a nearby pillow and smush it against his cheek, pushing him away.
With a soft laugh, he takes the pillow from your hands, placing it beside him to look at you properly. You want to hide away in a hole forever, but you can't do much other than look to the ground, beyond embarrassed. His obvious amusement doesn't do much to soothe you.
"Look at me, darling."
"Hells no."
"Will you listen if I whisper it to you?"
You shoot him a glare, and he laughs again.
So instead of convincing you any further, he takes either of your hands. His voice is low again, and you swear he's doing it on purpose. "We all have our quirks, my love. I enjoy drinking your delicious blood in our nights of passion, and you enjoy listening to my wonderful voice during them."
"Did you just compare this to being a vampire?"
"This and that. Same thing."
The quirk of your brow is enough to tell him of your annoyance, making him squeeze your hand with a grin. You'd throw him out if he weren't so pretty. Those long lashes, the white curls, that irritatingly beautiful shade of his eyes...Gods, you're helpless. But something tells you that the feeling is mutual. Wordlessly, you find yourself leaning closer again, and his grin stretches wider. "So talking lowly does seem to work its charm on you."
You snort, rolling your eyes. "Shut up and kiss me."
"As you wish."
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