#I spent surprisingly little time on this art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

justporo · 6 months

Text

Who's the goose... (1)

Finally having arrived in Baldur's Gate, Astarion finds the wrong pocket to pick - and gets turned into a goose as punishement. Peace was never an option.

PART 2 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: This might as well have been the stupidest idea I've ever had but I couldn't get it out of my head, so here we are. Thanks for input and giving me some more stupid ideas for this to my bf, @tatterings, @bearhugsandshrugs and @the-littlest-raindrop and @megschaef98 for already cackling about it (and everyone else on that server for your love and support!); ah also Neil Newbon for coming up with this... The wonderful little doodle is once more done by the lovely @azaani-art!

Pairing: Uhm, Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Stupid

Warnings: goose? (I'm sorry, I'm really just running with the bit by now...)

Wordcount: 3,7k

~~~

A goose sat in front of you all.

And it looked weirdly humanoid how it sat there: tiny rubbery legs stretched out in front of it and the wings too – as if it didn’t know how to properly move or place them.

The goose’s head turned around on the long neck to look at you and your companions out of its small red button eyes. The feathers on top of its head were a bit ruffled and almost gave it the look of having a flurry of white curls right there.

It lifted its stretched out wings a little. Looked at them one after another and made a small croaking noise as it did so.

That made it shut its beak again and snap its red gaze back to you.

You looked down at the goose in shock. The goose looked at you with what you presumed was shock too.

And then it opened its beak wide and started wailing with loud honks, as loud as its avian lungs would allow.

The party had finally arrived at Baldur’s Gate. And then had quickly realised that none of you had really an idea where to start your investigation. So, you had taken to walk around the Lower City and just casually ask around to find out more about what seemed to be going on in the city – especially with this Lord Enver Gortash and his newly established Steel Watch.

The day had been long and exhausting. You all kind of had forgotten how a day without a battle, killing and mortal peril was spent – just walking around in the city, engaging in inconspicuous small talk and trying not to lose your mind by getting nowhere with it – what could possibly be more dreadful than that?

Morale had already been low since the start. Halsin had very obviously been a bit unsettled by the big, bustling city, no matter how much he had tried to hide it. Jaheira had just stoically taken in the city and what had changed since she had last been there. Lae’zel had basically been gnawing on your ears with her complaints of how stupid your approach of talking to people was. That in turn had made Shadowheart almost want to choke her (again). And Wyll had become awfully silent since you’d entered the city – too much was weighing on his mind. Gale was just sad.

Karlach probably was the only one in quite the happy mood: since it’s been a very long time for her since she’s actually been to Baldur’s Gate she was just amazed by everything she saw. And she promptly called that out. Every. Single. Thing. So really not doing anything to help with the low mood of the group.

You had just tried to make the best out of it although you certainly had had to admit to yourself that the missing success of your day had been weighing on you also. But you had tried to be stubborn about it.

Astarion had walked by your side the whole day, surprisingly diligent on his part. You had felt that he was tense – as could have been expected upon entering the lair of his master again. But he had really tried to support you with your current goals – and you were absolutely thankful for that.

But as the day had grown late you had felt the annoyance rise in him too, just as much as it had within you.

It had already become dark in the city. Lanterns and the pale moonlight now had been the only sources of light. You had known that the group should’ve soon gotten back to the inn to retire for the night – despite having found out nothing today.

But you had wanted to push for one last attempt - unfortunately. And when you had happened upon a rather feisty older fellow, Astarion’s thin-stretched patience had finally snapped.

After you had tried to talk to this guy and he had only kept answering in riddles, you had been about to give up when you had noticed that the vampire beside you had disappeared.

You had feared nothing good from this finding and sure as all Nine Hells you had seen how Astarion had tried to sneak up on this man and pickpocket him.

And this had been, when things had really gone sideways – and then backwards; and down a hill.

With Astarion’s hands still in his robe the man had turned around to the vampire and looked him straight in the eye: “What do you think you’re doing there, young man?” He hadn’t even sounded awfully angry, rather a bit amused.

Astarion had simply blinked at him, absolutely dumbfounded that he had so easily been found out. The guy had watched him for a second longer with a small, suppressed smile playing on his lips and then started to whisper as an ominous purple glow had started to emit from him.

The vampire had hastily tried to scurry back, but it was already too late. An explosion of purple light had blinded you all and made you turn away with groans.

And when you had turned around again, both men standing there had been gone, only a single goose left in their place that had looked dazed and very out of place.

So here you were now: with a vampire turned into a screaming goose.

You really didn’t know if you wanted to laugh or cry – probably both. The wailing from polymorphed Astarion was ringing in your ears. Gods, geese could be really loud, couldn’t they?

You looked around your group of friends in desperate need for help.

Karlach had completely lost it, almost doubled over on the cobblestone street. Even Lae’zel bit her bottom lip in an attempt to not burst out laughing, covering half her face with one of her hands. But most of your other companions just looked as shocked and surprised as you.

Gale had his hand on his chin and was obviously very deep in thought – surely, he was already figuring something out to fix this mess. At least you immediately deeply hoped for it.

For a moment you just stood there. Warm, orange light from some nearby windows was lighting the absurd scene. The goose’s wailing drifted to the background for a few moments as your vision blurred and your gaze wandered miles away.

How exactly had you ended up in this ridiculous situation? Out of everything, how had all the steps you had taken led you to this night where your already traumatised soulmate had been turned into poultry and was now shouting the whole city down? Didn’t you have enough on your godsdamned plate already? Would the damned gods ever give you a break?

Your eyes started to burn and water as you stared into the void. You really couldn’t take much more.

But how many times had you been at this point? Too many already anyways.

So, you did, what you always did: took a deep breath, closed your eyes for a hot second, pressed your fingers to the bridge of your nose and tried to focus your thoughts again.

You’d find a way out of this and if not… Well, you’d find a way to live with Astarion as a goose, for better or for worse.

When you focused again on the scene, you saw how Halsin was slowly approaching the goose that was Astarion and was still honking as if his life depended on it – and maybe it did, who knew? Gale was whispering an incantation and focusing on the goose. The rest was just still standing around with quizzical looks on their faces or casually losing it and losing their last shreds of sanity.

Halsin had almost reached the crying bird, all the while softly mumbling calming words to Astarion. The druid stretched out his arms as if he planned to pick up the still screaming animal.

But just before he could reach it, Astarion saw it coming, stopped his whining and jumped up with fluttering wings. With a quickness that would have been astounding for such an animal, had you not known that it was normally a dexterous rogue, the goose got up from its awkward sitting position and snapped at the fingers of the druid. Halsin immediately recoiled and looked a little hurt.

Astarion was flaring his big white wings now – lifting them up and his long goose neck stretched out, ready to snap again at anyone that tried to touch him. At least he had stopped honking now and was just swaying his head around at all of you standing around him in a loose half circle – ready to fight anyone who would dare touch a single feather on his head.

“Astarion?”, you asked cautiously, fearing that the transmutation hadn’t altered the vampire’s mind as well. The goose immediately turned to you, a small and much more silent honk left its throat. Its wings lowered a little as soon as it heard your voice. “I know this will sound stupid given the situation, but uh, please try to calm down?”, you asked him and made a grimace while you helplessly stretched out your arms to him, bending your knees.

Astarion honked once more in a clearly annoyed tone and let his wings sink fully as if he was letting his shoulders drop in defeat.

“I’m sorry”, you whispered and felt a wave of sadness wash over you. Meanwhile the others had started to get out of their stupor or calmed themselves from their laughter. Everyone stayed clear of the clearly readily violent goose though.

You crouched down fully and stretched out your arms even more towards the animal that kept watching you intently. With no more words or honks, the goose settled down its wings and carefully waddled over to you and your opened arms.

Once Astarion was very close you couldn’t help yourself but go to your knees and reach out both your arms wider for the animal – ready to give it a hug. Astarion slowly stepped into them and you carefully wrapped your arms around the goose as it made a small honk. It sounded pretty sad and helpless and you could suddenly feel tears well up in your eyes.

You held the much smaller animal. The feathers were surprisingly soft and Astarion carefully placed his small goose head on your shoulder with another quiet honk. It was so light you could barely feel it at all resting there.

The mood in the group had suddenly soured watching you take your partner in your arms – no matter the actual ridiculousness of the situation.

You held the goose and petted it softly, until Gale interrupted the awkward silence with an exclamation.

“Aha”, the wizard made and came back out of his trancelike concentration. He looked around in some confusion as everyone watched the tragic scene of you sadly hugging the poor animal that had awkwardly stretched out its wings a little to return the sentiment – it hadn’t really worked well.

“Uhm”, Gale made and then cleared his throat to catch everyone’s attention. The group just looked at him in silence.

“By the gods, what is with the sudden graveyard atmosphere? You all do realise Astarion is not de- I mean…”, he started sassily and interrupted himself when he realised his mistake. And before he could start again, the bird in your arms had started writhing and honking again. Obviously, Astarion had opinions on not getting the same kind of compassion from Gale as from the others now.

He tried to break free from your arms, but you held him easily – he was just… a goose after all. Although, you got whacked in the face by his wings several times. “Astarion!”, you scolded him. “I really don’t think you’re in a position to be feisty right now. And I’m pretty sure he has something to share that will help about the situation you are in. And might I add, the situation you put yourself in on your own!” A bit of anger welled up in you at the vampire and his godsdamned shenanigans that had landed you all in this mess now. Also his audacity to still be sassy about it – not even being turned into a featherball could stop him from that, it seemed.

The goose calmed down, reluctantly. Its beak was still open as it stared at the wizard – probably the equivalent of the vampire baring his teeth at him. You carefully let him go and just sat down backwards on the ground. You could use it right now.

“Now, if we’re not in a poultry house anymore”, Gale continued cheerily and gave the present poultry a death glare. The goose gave a very slight hiss – at least he had retained that capability.

You waved Gale to please go on.

“Alright, it’s – as you might’ve figured already – a transmutation spell. And might I add a mighty one. I really have no idea who that fellow was, but it surely was the wrong pocket to pick, Astarion – or might I say Goosetarion”, the wizard explained in his scholarly manor and wiggled a finger at the goose while grinning – earning himself another hiss. At least someone present seemed intrigued about the whole situation.

Hearing that it was a mighty spell already let your heart sink. But Gale went on and everyone just listened intently: “The good news is though: transmutations spells can’t be held for overly long. So, I’d say we’re back with our sassy humanoid companion in about…” Gale drew out his words as everyone hung on his lips.

“I’d say twenty-four hours at the latest.”

“TWENTY-FOUR HOURS”, came back the answer in unison from almost all the companions – and a mournful honk. Your mouth fell open but honestly you were immediately flooded with relief that you wouldn’t have to spend the rest of your life with a goose – although you would have committed to that.

“Tchk, and what are we going to do with him in the meantime? Walk him around on a leash? We can’t waste any time!”, Lae’zel commented. Karlach started to snicker again, and so did Shadowheart and Wyll around her.

Goosetarion small red eyes flashed viciously and he quickly lashed out at her like he had at Halsin before, aiming for the githyanki ankle. But Lae’zel had the upper hand and quickly pushed him away with her foot – not exactly kicking him but not exactly being gentle either.

The goose landed ungracefully on its back, legs flailing in the air while it kept complaining and trying to get up again.

“Lae’zel”, you shouted but she simply shrugged at you.

“Well, what else are we going to do? Tomorrow will just be another day of walking around the city trying to gather more information. What harm can it be then? Also, it’s not like we could just leave him here anywhere anyway. Beastly as he is, but he’s still only a goose now, we need to protect him”, Wyll chimed in sympathetically. You nodded your head in agreement and the others muttered their agreement, although some just a tad reluctantly.

Goosetarion in the meanwhile had waddled back over to you to be embraced again, head hanging slightly, doing his best to look like… well, a kicked goose.

You softly stroked his long feathery neck and noticed to your amusement that his rump started to wiggle when you did that. It surely seemed he wasn’t aware that he was doing that. You couldn’t hide a grin and you saw that Halsin grinned at you and the goose too.

“Can we just go back to the inn then? It’s already super late and my feet hurt”, Shadowheart added after it had been settled. Everyone hummed in exhausted agreement.

And so you went on your way. You softly got up from your seat on the cobble road while the goose complained about the lack of caressing happening. You stretched your back and watched after your friends that had already started to walk back towards your location for the night.

“Want me to carry you?”, you asked looking down at the goose and stretched out your arms again. But Goosetarion gave a curt honk and stretched his long neck away from you in an offended manner, then started to waddle after the others.

Now that you knew that he would hopefully be back to his normal humanoid self very soon, the humorous nature of the situation wasn’t as lost on you anymore. The way the goose wiggled its whole torso around while trying to catch up with the others was a sight to behold. Especially if you compared it with Astarion’s usual feline grace. And yet he was way too proud to just accept help.

You snorted and started to follow behind Goosetarion. He heard that and swung his head around while he kept walking, making him look even more ridiculous. You snorted more. And were pretty sure you could see the small red eyes scream bloody murder at you for mocking him.

But Astarion was way too focused and needed all his energy to keep up. Occasionally, he even had to break into a sprint – almost tripping over his rubbery feet and spreading out his wings to not lose balance. It was truly hilarious.

Some idle chatter developed between the companions and you on the way back. And of course, Goosetarion was the subject matter.

“Is there nothing you can do before the spell runs out?”, you asked Gale at some point while you were careful to walk exactly by the goose to offer at least a little protection.

“Oh, believe me, I would if I could – although I have to say I’m enjoying this situation a little bit-“ (“HONK!”) “ but it is, as I pointed out before, a pretty powerful spell. And if I started to fumble with it I might make it worse and-“ (“Honk…”) “- and I guess you’d rather have him back in one piece”, Gale ended and ignored the bickering animal between him and you. You nodded in agreement with the wizard – seemed your safest bet would be to just sit this one out.

“Looks like until tomorrow you’re just going to be a silly little goose then, aren’t you, Asta-OWW!” That had been a line crossed for Goosetarion. And other than Halsin and Lae’zel, the wizard surely was not quick enough to avoid the rogue goose’s vicious attack on his ankles. Gale awkwardly tried to kick at the goose but Goosetarion had learnt from the last time and quickly ducked out of the way, rushing around you so he could hide behind your legs.

“You had that one coming”, you mumbled under your breath as Gale looked at you hurt. He walked a little faster then, trying to steer clear from the murderous bird and engaged others in conversation. Goosetarion waddled through your legs so he was walking in front of you again although you noticed that he was clearly starting to struggle

“And couldn’t you not just at least cast “Speak with animals” or something?”, Karlach took up the conversation about Goosetarion’s fate. You hadn’t even thought of that so far. You had just been too occupied with the situation as a whole. You simply shrugged because you had absolutely no idea.

“But he is not an animal”, Jaheira replied to Karlach’s suggestion in her matter-of-fact demeanor from in front of you. Halsin beside her nodded silently. “He is still his vampiric elven self, just temporarily in another form. Even if Halsin or I wildshaped into geese we would not be able to speak with him because we are at least partly beast when we turn”, the infamous druid added to her explanation. “As far as I know there is no spell to work in this situation. But quite frankly maybe we could all do without his yapping for at least a day and he learns a lesson about all of this”, she finished and gave the goose a stern look.

Goosetarion stopped and made another rather sad honk. He really must have been having the worst and most humbling of times.

You stopped just behind the goose: “I’m sure she didn’t mean it.” The look Jaheira gave you made sure though that she absolutely did, but you brushed over it. You held out your arms to the goose again. However, Goosetarion again just waddled off on his own.

But the way to the inn was long and the goose was soon almost completely exhausted, probably amplified by not being used to moving around like that. At some point, when you had already slid out of all the other conversations and were just deep in your thoughts, you were stopped by another soft honk just below you.

Astarion stood before you and had spread his wings towards you, neck craned up towards you. It again looked weirdly humanoid with the way he moved and behaved. When you didn’t immediately react because you were really just very exhausted and didn’t catch on, the goose started to kind of hop in place and honked again.

“Oh, you want to be picked up! Sorry”, you replied and bent down to awkwardly grab the animal.

After some wriggling around and Astarion’s earnest tries to not writhe around too much in your arms, you were able to lift him up. He was stretching his neck and small feet out and made small noises that made you think that he wasn’t quite very comfortable with what was happening. But he gave his best to cope.

Once you kind of had him settled down on your hip, one arm around him and one under him to support him, he seemed to be considerably more comfortable, better even. When you had caught up to the others again and Gale sassily lifted an eyebrow at the goose now being carried around, Astarion made full use of his long neck to peck at the wizard’s sleeve.

Gale squealed again – much to the amusement of the rest of the group and made sure to keep even more distance from the goose. Goosetarion gave a contented honk then and refrained from biting anyone else for the rest of the way.

You were still laughing softly with the others, when the inn came into view. At least you hadn’t lost your humour so far.

(To be continued...)

~~~

Taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe

1K notes · View notes

pandoraslxna · 8 months

Note

hello! i’m literally terrible at requesting things lol, but i thought i would ask if you would be doing another part to Stepbrother AU? i absolutely love the way you write neteyam. maybe some sweet and soft smut?

Sweet dreams

adult stepbro Neteyam x female omatikaya reader

Words: 2.5k

Summary: It’s date night, the marui is quiet and Neteyam has you all to himself.

Warnings: explicit smut, stepcest (= they’re not related by blood), fluff, praise kink, p in v, soft sex, semi-public, biting

Notes: adult Neteyam art was made by @cinetrix 🩵

Translation:

syulang = flower

It’s date night.

Date night means, his parents will be away for the night. And that means, all responsibilities fall to him.

So Neteyam makes sure everyone’s fed, goes to hunt, skins the yerik with Lo‘ak and let’s Kiri help prepare the meat, while you’re out to give Tuk a much needed bath after playing in the dirt all day.

They all eat together, while mum and dad are out somewhere flying on their ikrans or swimming in a river, spending some much needed time away from their kids, even though half of them are grown already and can take care of themselves. These days, date night is more than a ritual that they decided to keep from the early years of their mating, than a day spent away from the rest of the family. The kids aren’t really kids anymore, they don’t fight like they used to, they don’t ask too many questions that make Jakes hairline thin out and they don’t stick to Neytiri like leeches anymore.

Except for little Tuk of course, because Tuk will most likely forever keep the status of the Sully’s baby, probably even when she has kids on her own.

Lo‘ak has grown too, but he’s still Lo‘ak. Has always been him and will never change the way he is. Unless Tsireya comes over– great mother help him, suddenly he’s someone Neteyam has never seen before and it makes him physically cringe. But who is he to judge and apparently the chiefs daughter seems to be into that 'oh my voice is naturally low and raspy and I definitely don’t deepen it just to impress you' type of thing.

Kiri is, well, she’s never been one to talk much, but since she’s reached the end of her what dad calls puberty and mother calls "a test to her mental strength" her head seems to be even more up in the clouds than it was before.

Neteyam himself has long reached that age where he would like to experience these domestic moments with his own little family, living in his own marui. But he can’t seem to peel himself away from here, from home. Not when everything he yearns for is right here.

Which brings us to you.

His pretty little syulang, the flower of his life, that grew roots so deep in his heart that they took up all the space and left no room for anything or anyone else, since the day his parents had decided to take you in.

Admittedly, it took Neteyam longer than he thought it would, to realize that the way he looked at you was different from the way he looked at his other siblings. He’s always been protective by nature, takes care of those who are dear to him. But not once had he felt the same kind of jealousy when Spider or Rotxo or whoever talked to his sister Kiri, than when boys came to talk to you. When it came to you, things were different.

Neteyam himself had started fooling around with girls his age relatively young. Kissing and touching, before he turned eighteen and realized how easy it is to get them on their hands and knees just for being the next olo’eyktan.

But when you came along, things took a sharp turn. Suddenly, those girls made him feel icky. Suddenly, he had never wanted to touch anybody as much as he wanted to touch you. But he knew that such a thing was out of the question, though, so he never tried to act upon his forbidden desires.

It was you, surprisingly, who came to him first. Crossing all lines of what Neteyam thought was considered right or wrong, just for you to confess a love that goes beyond what step siblings should feel for each other.

Anyways.

Date night means, all responsibilities fall to him. And while it’s usually dad that has trouble sleeping, that stays up until eywa know when, sitting in the space that’s reserved for crafting and such things to clean his assault rifle, it’s Neteyam who sits in this place tonight. Like being away for a night ultimately means that not being able to sleep is now his burden too.

Neteyam doesn’t know the reason to his. His stomach is full and he’s happy and content, should probably sleep like a baby. But he just can’t bring himself to rest.

He hears Lo’aks snoring pick up in the other room, and it makes him chuckle lightheartedly. He‘ll keep Tsireya in his prayers, once the two of them have finally mated and will share their own marui. Eywa help her find some sleep, once this snoring palulukan lays under her roof.

Neteyam smiles to himself. His fingers slowly grow tired as they move a woven thread back and forth, then through a pearl, tying a knot and repeat. At least some part of him feels the need to rest.

While his parents date night generally means that there will be more duties than usual in his daily routine, it also means that there is no one up in the middle of the night or in the early morning hours, giving him time and peace to be lost in his thoughts. And those thoughts roam around a certain someone, more than usual even.

Because date night also means, spending time with his precious syulang is now less risky than it is on any other day or any other night.

Quietly, Neteyam tips his head back to glance into the other room. He can vaguely make out your sleeping silhouette in the dark, laying in your hammock. Like a magnet to metal, he feels himself drawn to you, so he allows his body to move without his brain having much say in this.

Everyone‘s asleep and his parents aren’t there and it just feels good to act upon his desires without double questioning everything, wondering what fleeting touches he could allow himself without being looked at weird or having to find excuses to go to the forest together for at least some alone time.

The hammock dips, and then a warm body settles to lay behind you, curling around your smaller frame like you’re two fitting pieces of the same puzzle.

A soft sigh leaves your parted lips and Neteyam can’t help but press a kiss to the nape of your neck. His breath tickles your skin, and then you stir awake with a yawn.

"Teyam?", you murmur sleepily, glancing over your shoulder to be met with two half lidded, golden orbs staring back at you.

"M‘sorry, syulang", he whispers against the shell of your ear before pressing another kiss to your cheek. "Didn’t mean to wake you."

You mumble something incoherent that he can’t quite pick up, but then you’re stretching and your tail instinctively curls around his, and Neteyam knows you probably didn’t mean to– but your back arches into him, ass pressing against his crotch, and suddenly you’re not the one only stirring awake.

"Hmm, but since you’re already up, we could…", the words are muffled into the crook of your neck, followed by more, open mouthed kisses against your skin.

"Teyam", you giggle quietly, squirming when he nips at the lobe of your ear, "stop it."

Instead of listening, his arms close tighter around your middle, pulling your back closer to his chest. His hands skim over the bare skin of your stomach, over your thighs, your waist.

"You’re so warm", he mumbles, with both of his hands now sandwiched between your soft thighs. It makes you dizzy, the way he presses himself against you, how his hands can’t seem to stay still for even a second, roaming your body to caress and squeeze and grab whatever they can reach. Your breath hitches in your throat once you feel his fingertips brush the outline of your loincloth, following the cords between your thighs, hands cupping your cunt.

"T-The others", you finally find your voice again. Swallowing thickly, you whisper, "Lo’ak and Kiri, they will–"

But Neteyam is quick to cut you off, "The others are sleeping…" Another open mouthed kiss to your throat, tongue licking along your pulse point. "And I missed you. A lot."

It doesn’t seem like he was leaving you much room to argue, especially not, because his hands then dip past the waistband of your loincloth.

"I was with you the whole day", a smile pulls at your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you let yourself enjoy the feeling of his teasing fingers.

"Hmh, and I still missed my baby sister", he hums, "Missed kissing you… touching you…"

A gasp tumbles from your parted lips when one of his digits slides into you with ease, curling up where he knows it feels best for you.

"Always so wet for me", Neteyam whispers, "My perfect girl."

His breath is hot and damp against the skin of your neck, and he nudges his now fully hard cock against the small of your back and waits for the sign that tells him you feel the same want he does.

Neteyam can’t help but nuzzle up against the crook of your neck again, trace the edge of your ear with nose and lips, because he can never get enough of the way that sends a shiver through your body. Through his own body too, and then he presses the smallest, quietest kisses to your ear until you shivers again.

Neteyam is so close to you, that he can sense and know he caused the tremble in your limbs and breath.

Those small, trembling movements are what does it for him, the way you nudge your sleep-warm body against him, the arch of your back against his chest and crotch, the scrabble of delicate fingers as they fumble against his arm, looking for purchase, the brush of your soft hair against his cheek and the taste of your skin at the flick of his tongue against your throat, neck and shoulder.

"Teyaaam", you whine quietly, two of his slick fingers now scissoring you open and you writhe and squirm, pushing back harder against his cock in need.

This time, the shiver runs through him first and you gasp once, the sound quiet and sharp.

Neteyam knows that sound. Knows that means he could fit your bodies together even better, press himself inside you now. So naturally, that’s what he does.

It’s a clumsy mess of tangled limps, soft giggles and fleeting kisses before he manages to wriggle you and then himself free from any clothes. He keeps you flush against him, back pressed against his chest, angles your leg up and holds you open with a hand to the backside of your knee.

Neteyam slides into you easily. The stretch is familiar, good and pleasant, and you moan once he’s filled you entirely.

"Shh, I know", he coos softly, "but you have to be quiet for me, yes? Don’t want to wake the others, don’t you?"

You nod, then his hips move almost on instinct, back and then pushing forwards, thrusting into you. It’s slow and languid, with muffled groans pressed against your skin.

Neteyam wants it to last. Wants to stay like this forever, soft touches and warmth and the fond familiarity of your skin under his fingertips. But he can't resist that voice. Can't resist that desperate, pleading tone.

"P-Please Neteyam", you whimper softly, pushing back against him, "more, please. More, I want to come!"

He pushes forward, just that little bit harder, then shifts to clamp a hand over your mouth, shushing you when you’re unable to contain those little noises of pleasure.

"You feel so good, syulang, so good."

The slow drag of his shaft against your warm, wet and velvety-like walls makes Neteyams tail curl in enjoyment, and his eyes flutter close as he lets himself drown in the feeling of you. His teeth are clenched shut, biting down on his lower lip, because he was just as close to moaning out loud as you were.

But then you’re clamping down, hard, when his tip nudges against that special spot inside you and– just a little faster, his thrusts become just a tad harder, deeper.

There’s drool covering the inside of his hand, where he’s trying to keep your mouth shut, tongue lapping at his palm so he switches position, sticks two of his fingers into your mouth instead for you to suck on.

You’re so wet around him, wet around his fingers too now, sucking as eager as you would on his cock and the low groan that bubbles up his throat is almost too loud. Almost.

But Neteyam catches his breath quickly, busying his mouth with your throat instead, sucking and kissing and biting, never hard enough to leave any marks, but enough to keep himself from making too much noise.

Meanwhile your tongue swirls around his digits and he pushes them further in whenever he slides his cock out of you, then out when he thrusts forwards. It’s a constant rhythm, leaving you moaning around his fingers and squeezing around his cock.

Slow and steady, he repeats the words like a mantra, trying to calm himself. But his thrusts become deeper, harder as well. They knock the breath out of your lungs, little whimpers reaching his ears, until Neteyam has to cover you mouth again with a warning grunt.

All it would take was for Lo‘ak to wake and get water, and then he would hear the obvious, he would hear the faint squelching noises coming from the other room, would hear your little whimpers and pleas.

Neteyam wanted this to last, he really did. But the thrill of getting caught was a dangerous mix to the absolute heavenly feeling of your pussy convulsing around his length as you came. The soft squeak that you gave, the way that your legs trembled and your eyes rolled back, it was all that was needed to push him over the edge.

"Fuck, fuck, syulang, baby. I‘m– I‘m gonna come", he forces out, as quietly as possible. The hand over your mouth clamped down harder, like a warning before he started to thrust into you faster, barely able to contain himself anymore.

Just a few especially deep strokes were needed, and Neteyam felt his body and every last nerve in it fill with pleasure, before he came with a grunt, biting his tongue and pressing his face into the crook of your neck.

Taking his time, Neteyam lets his body come down slowly. He’s still pressing himself into you gently, continues to move a little, thrusting, and enjoys the slippery sensations this engenders. Traces kisses over your skin and tastes salt and sweetness on his tongue while he listens to the way your breathing slowly evens out.

A tender, "I love you", is whispered against the shell of your ear. Your response comes a little slurred, voice laced with sleep and barely incoherent, but it doesn’t really matter to him. There’s a smile on your lips as you fall back asleep, satisfied and content.

And finally, sleep tugs on his tired eyelids.

Neteyam suspects, as he drifts of to sleep, that in an hour or so, for the second time that day, he'll be the first to wake. He’ll have to get up and move to his own hammock, fall back asleep there, or not. And he’ll miss you again, from afar. Until date night comes around again.

2K notes · View notes

mooshywrites · 4 months

Text

Making It Our Own

Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Female!Tav

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Kinda a continuation of my last fluff, slice of life kind of affair

Word Count - 3.1K

Warnings - NSFW, MDNI, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, fluff/soft dom Astarion, aftercare if you squint, multiple orgasms, biting because thats practically required with this man, overall straight degeneracy

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“How else will we make this place our own, my darling?”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“Why in all the god’s names, would they have the staircase here?” Astarion wondered, exasperated.

You smiled softly, looking over the slightly rickety stairs before him. They were a little in the foreground of the room, awkwardly jutting out beside the selling desk.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, my love.” You responded, kissing his cheek sweetly.

”With the amount of hard-earned gold I spent on this place, you would think someone would have at least dusted before we moved in.” He complained, dragging a finger across the desk, holding up the collection of caked dirt.

You fought the urge to scoff at the thought of Astarion actually earning any amount of money, but you contained yourself knowing he did put a fair amount of effort into having this small shop be his own.

For the entire idea of Astarion running a shop starting as a halfhearted tease, you could hardly believe you were actually standing in the place now. It had taken a few months of odd jobs, even odder quests, and… well… yes, there was some thievery involved in getting enough coin to buy the little shop on the corner of the quietest part of Baldur’s Gate. It must have been a bakery, or perhaps a tiny bed and breakfast before the two of you, because it sported a surprisingly large kitchen in the back along with four midsize rooms upstairs. Of course, if it were any of those things, it must have long long not been occupied.

“I’m sure it won’t take long to make the place exactly what you want, Astarion.” You murmured, trying to be optimistic. You looked up at your pale elf, seeing his mouth in a tight line. His eyes peering accusingly at the grime and disrepair on the first floor. Luckily, from your investigating, the upstairs level seemed to fair a bit better.

”Darling, it will take half of a century to even make it look clean” Astarion chuckled, turning his attention back down onto you. “It may be a disaster, but I do suppose it is our disaster.”

”That’s the spirit.” You grinned up at him. “Where should we start then?”

Astarion shook her head decisively, “You can start upstairs. I won’t have your pretty little hands working yourself to the bone on this mess. Or dirtying your new dress.”

Your hands idly smoothed your skirt, fingers running over the delicate gold flowers expertly embroidered across the fabric. Astarion insisted he began practicing his sewing in preparation for the shop and your clothes, of course, were his first choice of material. The simple green gown you were wearing today was covered in dainty flowering vines.

“Perhaps you’re right,” you sighed. “I can think of much better ways to ruin one of your projects than covering it in dirt.” You added, gesturing to the dress.

Astarion leaned back on the desk casually, his eyebrows raising, “What possible ways could you be talking about, pet?” He asked, his voice too sickly sweet and innocent to be anything other than a thinly veiled tease.

Well… two could play that game. You gave him a small smile, stepping forward to place your hands on his chest. You didn’t miss the way his eyes darkened slightly at the movement.

“I just mean that if your hard work is to be dirtied, it better be worth it.” You shrugged.

Astarion couldn’t help but smirk, knowing your innocent attitude was as much of an act as his own. His face inched closer, voice only above a whisper now, “I can think of a few ways that would be more worth your time, love.”

“And those would be?” You almost didn’t recognize your own voice, practically breathless even with only the hint of his words.

”Oh, pet. I think you already know.” He practically purred. “How else will we make this place our own?”

You barely had time to respond before the words were swallowed by Astarion’s searing kiss. His lips molded against your own, coaxing a small muffled moan from your chest. His arms snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Your own arms wound around his neck, fingertips coming up to lace their way into his curly white locks.

”I’m afraid your beautiful dress may be sullied, yet,” Astarion murmured, pulling back for a moment, “There isn’t a surface here that is suitable enough for you to lay upon.”

”’Lay upon?’ Why would I need to do that?” You whispered, feigning ignorance.

Astarion’s hands fell to just below your butt before suddenly hooking your legs up and around him. You don’t even have time to chastise him before you’re spun around and placed on the dust covered desk.

”Astarion, my dress-!” You squeaked.

His eyes rolled in response, his hands sliding up the sides of your dress. “For god’s sake, darling, I’ll make you a new one.”

He leaned in once more, this time, pressing a chaste kiss to your jaw, effectively silencing your argument. You tilted your head back, giving him better access to the crook of your neck. You sucked in a shaky breath as you felt the points of his fangs grazing feather light across the sensitive skin, goosebumps erupting on your skin and heat settling in your lower stomach. You could practically feel him smile against you at your reaction, always proud to make you putty between his hands.

His lips and teeth continued to dance down your neck, pausing for a moment on the sweet spot just above your collarbone. The movement completely distracts you from how his hands continue to sneak their way up your legs.

That is, until, you felt his fingertips drag slowly against the clothed heat between your legs.

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes meeting Astarion’s as he lifted his gaze, smirking. ”Why darling,” he purred. “Whatever did I do to deserve this silence?”

You threw him a half-hearted glare, not trusting your voice to deliver a retort in case it proved the point he was already trying to make. Instead, you pulled his face towards your own, locking him into a passionate kiss. You earned a particularly delicious groan as you gently dragged your tongue along his lower lip, silently prodding for access.

He graciously allowed your tongue in, exploring with his own. His fingers worked in tandem with his tongue, tracing feather light figure eights, seeming to be avoiding where you needed him most purposefully.

You whined into the kiss, causing the vampire to chuckle darkly, “What’s the matter, pet? Pained are we?” He teased.

”Just… touch me.” You begged, not at all embarrassed at how quickly you became desperate for him.

Luckily, the plea’s seemed to have the desired effect, a content sigh escaping you as cold finger moved your panties aside and pressed against your cunt.

”My, my.” He whispered, lips moving to catch the shell of your ear in a gentle bite. “It didn’t take long at all for you to be practically weeping for me.”

All you could do was whine as his middle finger dipped shallowly into your heat. He was right, of course, it took practically no time for him to bring you to tears with his fingers, your core clenching at just the thought of what he could do with those sinful hands.

You leaned back just enough to get a better view of him, his hair a mess from your own hands, his lips plump from your bruising kiss, his pointed gaze a shade darker than usual as he eyed you hungrily. Your chest rose and fell shakily, taking in the sight before you.

“Gods, you’re beautiful.” You whispered, barely even aware the words had escaped your own thoughts.

His eyes blinked in surprise before a warm smile fell across his face, leaning in to press a surprisingly innocent kiss upon your nose. “Aren’t I just?”

You could have guessed that would have been his reaction, your elf hiding behind a veil of humor anytime he was uncomfortable with a compliment or praise. I mean, showing emotions is difficult, isn’t it? Someday, you would have to find a way to make him take the compliment. But how? Bondage? A maid outfit? Constant teasing?

Your slightly crazed wandering thoughts were harshly interrupted as you felt Astarion’s finger sank deeper within you, his thumb brushing across the sensitive nub right above. Your yelp quickly transformed into a moan as his thumb began dancing in simple short circles, igniting the flame in your stomach to burn even brighter.

”Darling, you know how it hurts me so when you aren’t paying attention to me,” He prodded, voice thick with need and his ever present pout. “What could you be thinking about other than how well your dripping cunt takes my fingers.”

”N-Nothing,” you started, a moan interrupting your sentence as his finger began to pull in and out teasingly slow. “I was thinking about how to keep you from letting compliments roll off of you. Maybe it will take this-“

You brought up your hand to trace a fingertip along the ever growing bulge in his pants. Though he tried to hide it, you were very aware of how his brows drew forward, the way his mouth parted in a heavy breath.

“I assure you, it will take much more than that to entertain any of your praise.” He retorted.

“And how much more would that be?” You replied confidentially, riding the high of the reaction you were able to pull from him.

”Hmm,” he pondered, even having the audacity to look to the side as if in thought, all while his fingers continued their magic below him. His act gave way to a devilish smile as his focus returned to you.

”One orgasm, one compliment.”

”W-what?“ You squeaked, feeling your cheeks begin to redden immediately.

His finger curled deliciously forward, pressing against a point that had your mind quickly fogging over with lust. “You heard me, darling. For every orgasm I drag out of you, I will graciously accept one compliment.”

You couldn’t even begin to come up with a retort, your cunt giving every thought away as it squeezed hungrily around the pale elf’s single finger.

”Ill take that as a resounding yes.” He murmured, clearly proud of himself.

He slipped another finger in, expertly pumping them into you. His other hand reached up, pulling the top of your dress down in a quick tug. The cold air and the desire in the air had them hardening almost painfully. The man before you didn’t miss this development at all, mouth coming forward to nip at your breast playfully. His lips then closed around the hardened nipple, tongue swirling around it slowly. You could’ve drawn blood from how hard you were biting your lip, trying not to let your moans fill the small room.

It didn't take long for the vampire to return the affection to the other, his hand kneading the soft skin his mouth had just left. With his hands, his mouth, the slick sounds your own body was making, the coil below your stomach already felt wound too tight.

You felt the white hot burn at your lower breast, the pain of Astarion’s teeth mixing deliciously with the way the rough pad of his thumb presses hard against your clit. “Gods, Astarion.” You managed to get out, your hips beginning to rock helplessly against his hand.

”Too much, pet?” He replied simply against your skin, licking at the pinpricks of blood left behind by his teeth.

You shook your head furiously, the burn in your stomach becoming more demanding, your breaths uneven and strained. “P-please… please more.”

Astarion growled darkly, his hand moving faster, his mouth returning to your skin. The coil winds tighter, your moans falling into incoherent begs and whines. Astarion, sensing your oncoming high, deftly slips another finger into your folds.

Your vision pales as you cry out, muscles tensing while your orgasm crashes into you. Heat courses through your veins, arousal riding its course as the pale elf’s sinful mouth eases you through it. By the time you’ve regained your perception of which way is up, Astarion is smirking at you, accomplished haughtiness written across his face.

”I believe you’ve earned one compliment, my dearest. Make it count.”

”That was… You are,” You responded breathlessly, thoughts not quite forming correctly in your orgasm ridden brain. “You are amazing, Astarion.”

The man left out a soft chuckle, landing a kiss on your forehead. “Not the most impressive compliment I’ve ever received, but a deal is is a deal. Thank you, my pet.”

Realization crashed onto you. Did I just use my compliment to say something as useless as… that?

”No! No, that wasn’t my compliment, I deserve another go.” You pouted.

”Aht aht ah, we said ‘one orgasm,one compliment’. You can’t expect me to bend the rules for such a clearly made deal.”

“You can’t be serious! You know you can’t hold me to anything I say after coming down from something like that!.” You argued, not feeling ready to give up the fight quite yet.

”Honestly, darling, I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss! There’s a simple way to remedy this.” He said, a knowing smile adorning him.

”And what is that?” You replied, blankly.

Before you could guess his movements. His hands deftly ripped the thin fabric of your panties and reached to pull you flush against his bulge. ”You have another orgasm, of course. What was it you wanted? ‘another go’?”

The desire you had just released from your body hit you again, tenfold. Your own fingers began to work at the ties of his breeches.

”Slowly, darling.” Astarion chastises half heartedly. “We have all the time in the world.”

You knew his words were empty, you could tell by the way his jaw was clenched, pupils blown out with lust that he was as desperate for this as you were. You finally loosen the tie enough to pull the fabric down, releasing his erection to hit his stomach with a small slap.

Astarion let out a strained groan as you wrapped your hand around the length, your thumb swiping across the bead of precome leaking from the delicate slit. You looked up at him, taking in his reactions, greedily. His breaths came in labored heaves, hands gripping your sides as if it were his only anchor to reality.

”Now, now, no teasing, pet.” He tried to retain the cool and confident tone in his voice, but his words were rasped, an octave lower than usual.

You gave him an innocent smile, placing a quick kiss before whispering against his lips, “Then take me, love.”

It’s as if you have broken some sort of invisible chain holding him back. He kisses you harshly, teeth catching at your bottom lip. He adjusts your sitting position, hands pushing your thighs apart to give you access.

He pulls away, looking down at you bared before him, though he could never put the thoughts into words in this moment, you look absolutely ethereal. The ripped clothes, messy hair, big doe eyes looking up at him; he was absolutely undone.

His hips pushed forward, his member dragging through the wetness in between your legs. A strained groan erupts from his parted lips, eyebrows drawing close together, “Gods, darling… you’re perfect.”

You let out your own whine, hips greedily pushing forward, desperate for the friction or Astarion’s cock against your clit. He leans forehead to rest against your own, finally, finally, pushing into your awaiting cunt.

It finds no resistance as it thrusts to the hilt, the dew from your previous orgasm aiding its path. The room is almost completely silent, the both of you reveling in the feeling of the delightful stretch his body imposes upon you.

After a few moments, his darkened voice cuts through, “Please, darling. I must move.”

You nod wordlessly, craving the movement as much as he did. A low grunt was all the warning that you got.

Astarion’s hips snapped forward, setting a brutal pace of thrusts. Your moans fall over your lips with short breaths, hips trying to hold themselves up against the man.

Astarion’s hand reaches down further, holding some of your weight by gripping your ass, his other holding up his weight as he leans forward. His hot breath fans against your neck, head resting against you as if all of his energy is spent on roughly taking you.

Every drag of his heavy cock drives you higher and higher, sickly sinful slaps echoing amongst your embarrassingly loud moans.

“Gods above, pet.” Astarion manages, every word sounding like it took immense effort on his part. You felt his hips start to stutter, your own core beginning to clench hopelessly.

”Astarion, please! I- I…” You start, the pleasure rendering you mute.

”Come undone,” Astarion growls lowly, “Come undone with me.”

Your mouth opens to a silent scream, your cunt clenching hard around the thick member. Your hips jerk desperately, your nails digging into the pale elf’s arms. Astarion follows quickly behind you, pained grunts whispering out of his lips as he pushes deeply into your heat. You feel him twitch, warmth blooming through your lower stomach.

It’s a moment or two before the two of you touch back down to earth, both panting and clinging tightly to one another. When his head finally tilts up to meet your gaze, his eyes are full of affection, smiling softly.

You return him an affectionate smile, hands coming up to trace circles into his hair. ”So did I earn another compliment then?” You teased.

Astarion rolled his eyes, gently lowering you back down, “I suppose you do. Please make this one better than the last.”

You thought for a moment, wondering what would encapsulate your feelings the best. What would mean the most? After another beat or two, you realized there was no hope at a long and drawn out proclamation of love. It would have to start with something simple.

”I am so very lucky to be beginning a life like this with you.” You say sweetly, gesturing to the messy shop around you.

Astarion’s cheeks redden, still slightly unsure on how to go about accepting such loving words. “Well, ahem…” He cleared his throat looking around the room. “As am I.” He narrowed his eyes again at the layer of dust you sat upon. “After it’s clean of course. A task we should be getting back to.”

”Couldn’t agree more.” You sighed, pausing. “But there is one thing you have to do first.”

Astarion looked back at you, his voice lacking any usual tease, simply full of affection, “Anything you desire, darling.”

You giggle, giving him the sweetest smile you can manage.

”You have to pull out first.”

1K notes · View notes

sharenadraculea · 3 months

Text

If the primarchs had social media

Lion: There is nothing on his accounts. Not even a profile-picture. Someone is still logging into them every so often. Fulgrim: On all the plattforms. Primarely family-blogger: look at my perfect kids, my perfect spaceship, my perfect partner, my perfect healthy breakfest, my perfect make-up. OnlyFans-account on the side. Get‘s into controversies all the time. Perty: Angry rants. Has spent to much time on Twitter. Old man yells at cloud type of stuff. Jagh: And this is how we‘ll break the speed-limit today! Talks about bikes, how to mod them, drives them around very fast, ect. Occasional horse-pictures. Leman: Puppies! Just cute dog-pictures and -videos, of every canine he encounters in the galaxy Rogal: He isn‘t very good at social media. Sometimes posts bad selfies or pictures of his building projects. Completly ignores all of Pertys hate-comments Konrad: He writes fanfic. Edgy, dark, not very good fanfic. The protag is a clear self-insert and Mary Sue and brings justice to all the settings he puts them in. A ton of spelling errors. The plot barely holds together. He is very proud of it. Sang: He has official accounts with pretty pictures of him everywhere, but he has some private accounts that are just like his art and sometimes cute family pictures. Also why can I see Sang having a Vtuber-persona he livestreams with so people don‘t recognize him? Ferrus: Appears on Fulgrims accounts fairly often. Maybe does some gaming-content on the side Angron: Everything is very sporadic and when it‘s there it‘s pretty angry. Surprisingly talks a lot about issues with his disabilities and that he needs way more help than he get‘s and also all his trauma. Struggles a lot with typing and forming sentences, so it can be hard to understand at times. Roboute: A channel with tutorials for stuff like running a planet or putting on armour. If people ask him to explain something he can just send them a link. Morty: Not very active, sometimes pictures of some funky plants and little texts about them. Magnus: Video-essays. He dissappers for months and then returns with a four-hour-video (minimum) about the most random topic. Hugely popular. Horus: Look at my sexy abs! Look at my huge bicep! Soft-porn-pictures of him and his sons. Probally also had OnlyFans. Lorgar: Social media is great for preaching! So he does that! Deletes all his accounts after monarchia. Vulkan: Food! He loves trying out new recipes from diffrentc cultures! At the start of every recipe is a pagelong story, which people actually read Corvus: Also writes Fanfic. Very, very good fanfic if a bit edgy at times. Kind of has a rivalery with Konrad. Also runs a very active blog, about both writing and justice, with occasional bits about guerilla-warfare Alpharius Omegon: Just the worst trolls. Dozens if not hundreds of sockpuppet accounts. They are having a good time.

655 notes · View notes

starkwlkr · 1 year

Note

Can I request Ruby getting her period for the first time and her mom's not at home so Charles has to take care of her? If you're comfortable writing it ofc

we’re all girls here | charles leclerc

I know not everyone woman has the same period story (this is a safe blog and if someone starts judging about PERIODS I WILL COME AFTER YOU)

also i changed it up a little because surprisingly i had another story like this in my drafts before it was requested 😭

Y/n decided that a trip to her home country would do her some good. She hadn’t been back home in a while so she missed everything about it from her family to the delicious food. She missed home. Charles knew how much she wanted to have a vacation so he bought plane tickets just for her so she could have a stress and kid free vacation back home. She loves her kids to death, but it seemed like everything she sat on the sofa to take a break, one kid always yelled for her and with Charles gone, she just had to get up.

There was a month break from the season so Charles was home with his son and daughter. Arthur and Lorenzo were coming over soon. Ruby mostly spent her time in her room reading or watching some movie. But not this time. She was on a FaceTime call with her friend, Cassie, who was talking about the latest rumor in school.

“Don’t tell anyone I told you this but Elliot West has a crush on you. I heard Elizabeth from Art class say that. But don’t tell anyone!”

“Elliot? I thought he had a crush on you?” Ruby asked, letting out a low groan as her stomach began to hurt. All day she had been feeling sick, but she didn’t tell Charles.

“No, he likes you. His friend likes me. I think.” Cassie said.

Suddenly Ruby got a sharp pain. She never experienced it before so instantly her mind started thinking of the worst possible ideas.

“Are you okay?” Cassie asked over the phone.

“I don’t know. Bye, I have to call my mom.” Ruby ended the call before Cassie could even say bye. She quickly called her mom, but right when she needed Y/n the most, she wasn’t home. Immediately the call went to voicemail no matter how many times Ruby called. Ruby threw her phone to the ground in frustration and got up from her bed.

She paced around the room, holding her stomach in pain. She didn’t have a fever or felt like throwing up so she was extremely confused on why she had stomach pains.

Since Ruby’s door was opened, Mathéo peeked inside just to ask why she was pacing.

“Get out! You’re so annoying! Dad!” Ruby yelled, pushing her brother out the door and slamming it shut.

“Hey! Don’t slam the door! Be nice to each other!” Charles yelled back from his spot on the sofa. His brothers had arrived and now they were watching a movie on the tv.

“You’re such a dad.” Arthur laughed.

“Just wait until you have kids.” Charles teased.

Mathéo strolled into the living room with his toy car in his hand. He look unfazed by his sister’s actions. “Ruby is being weird.” He told his papa and uncles. He walked to his uncle Arthur and hopped onto his lap.

“Why’s that, Théo?” Charles asked.

“She looks like she’s in pain and I asked why she was going in circles and she kicked me out then she slammed the door.” Mathéo explained.

“Is she sick?” Lorenzo asked Charles.

“No, she didn’t mention anything. I’ll be back.” Charles said as he got up and walked to Ruby’s room. He knocked on the door several times, but got no answer so he opened the door and saw clothes scattered all over her bedroom door.

“Papa?” Charles heard Ruby call out from her bathroom.

“Baby, what did you do to your room?” Charles walked to the bathroom door. “Théo said you were in pain. What’s hurting, Ruby Jules?”

“My stomach. But . . . Papa? There’s blood on my pants.” Charles instantly knew what she meant by that. Sure, he didn’t have any sisters, but he did have girl cousins and a wife that went through it each month. (Unless she was pregnant, which she was glad she didn’t have to buy pads during that time)

“Okay, um . . I- shit. Okay, don’t panic. You’re okay, baby, everything’s fine. I’ll be right back.” Charles didn’t think his baby girl would get her first period when Y/n wasn’t present. He wasn’t exactly prepared for the moment. He left Ruby’s room in a hurry. He needed to call the only person who knew about periods that was still in Monaco.

“Is she okay? Is she dying?” Mathéo asked, still on Arthur’s lap.

“No one is dying! No!” Charles frantically looked for his phone all over the sofa. “Where is my phone?!” Mathéo pointed at the cracked phone on the coffee table. “Thank you, Théo.”

The three Leclercs watched as Charles looked like he was about to pass out. Was Ruby actually sick? They needed to know.

“Maman! You need to come over right now. Please, Ruby needs you. No, she’s okay, but Y/n isn’t here and I don’t know how to explain to her that she’s going to bleed every month without freaking her out.”

Lorenzo and Arthur both understood now. Ruby Leclerc had gotten her first period.

“Ruby is bleeding? Is she dying?!” Théo asked his uncle.

“No! Your sister isn’t dying!”

After what seemed like forever, Pascale had arrived to her son’s house. Charles led her to the bathroom Ruby was in. Unknown to them both, the other three Leclerc boys followed them.

Pascale lightly knocked on the door. “Ruby, amour, it’s grand-mère.”

“Hi.” She heard Ruby say in a whisper like tone.

“Your maman isn’t here to teach you about what’s going on, but I’m here. Can you let me in?” Pascale asked.

“But . . .”

“Amour, we’re all girls here. I promise you this isn’t something to be embarrassed about.” Pascale assured the girl.

Suddenly Mathéo laughed. He looked up at his two uncles and pointed at them. “Grand-mère called you girls!”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “She said all of us so that means you too.”

Mathéo stopped laughing. “This isn’t funny.”

Pascale sighed. “Ruby darling, unlock the door. You and I have to talk.”

“Can they leave first?” Ruby asked. She referred to all the men in her room.

Charles understood that his daughter felt more comfortable with his mother at the moment so he took Mathéo in his arms and left along with Lorenzo and Arthur.

While Pascale was busy teaching Ruby about periods, Charles was able to talk with Y/n. He caught her up on everything.

“You do know where the pads are, right?” Y/n asked.

“Can’t she use yours?”

“I forgot to stock up before I left. I didn’t think she would start early.” Replied the worried mother.

“Okay, no problem. I know which ones you get so I just need to go to the store. Should I get chocolate? Where do you keep your heating pad?”

It was safe to say that whenever Ruby would start her period and her mother wasn’t around, she was in safe hands with Charles. He was always a sweetheart whenever Y/n was on hers, bringing her all her snacks and letting her stay in bed. Ruby had nothing to worry about.

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #anon #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc imagine

2K notes · View notes

augustjustice · 6 months

Text

Pretty in Pink

AO3 Link

I am still firmly on my Stevie Harrington agenda this week, so please enjoy below Eddie's thirsty-turned-sappy thoughts about his favorite girl, inspired by @getlost0p's absolutely delightful art as well @cherrycolasteve's very cute tags.

Eddie taps the pen against his front teeth absently, eyes flitting uncomprehendingly over the various multiple choice options of his practice test. With his brain already feeling fuzzy and unfocused, it’s easy to let his gaze drift away from the page over to the girl currently sprawled out beside him–Stevie Harrington, curled up reading the X-Men comic Dustin had strong-armed her into picking up.

And, look–who could really blame him for getting a little distracted? There's a hot girl in his bed which is, admittedly, a rare enough occurrence–until shit went sideways last spring, at least–to still feel a little notable. Even if she is only there for moral support while he studies, his GED test date circling ever closer.

Stevie's wearing a striped white and pink polo with the buttons undone all the way to the bottom of the neckline and tight stonewash jeans. The absolute preppiest of prep attire, completed by the cherry-flavored chapstick shining red on her lips.

Eddie wants to kiss her stupid.

The jeans are high waisted, pulled up snug over the curve of her ass, and with Stevie rolled onto her stomach reading the comic, Eddie's getting quite the view.

Then she shifts, flopping over onto her back beside him, the movement followed by the sound of pages turning. The new position offers a tantalizing glimpse of her cleavage, a further hint of what her clingy polo is doing such a great job of highlighting.

Eddie looks. Of course he looks.

Estrogen has taken to Stevie’s figure like a duck to water. In the plush spread of her hips, making her pert ass even rounder, which Eddie would have thought was damn near impossible. And in the plumpness steadily gathering at her chest, her once defined pecs softening, giving way to the gentle swell of her breasts, which grow fuller by the day.

It’s become something of a problem for him lately–the staring.

That was true, to some extent, even before she started to transition. Stevie's always been gorgeous, and Eddie's always been aware of that fact, harboring a hopeless, from afar crush on her since they landed in the same impossible English class his first senior year and Eddie had become painfully aware of what all the Hawkins High girls were on about. Not that he would have admitted that, at the time, not even under threat of painful, agonizing death–no, the coming terms with it came later, during his spring break from hell spent realizing that Stevie Harrington was not only surprisingly sweet but a totally badass, bonafide hero.

…The whole ripping that bat apart with her teeth thing certainly didn't hurt, either.

The point is, he's always looked at Stevie, flirted with her. Probably been too obvious about it, too.

It's just that since she started to transition, it feels like he's gotten so much worse, like any subtlety he was holding on to by his fingernails has been ripped from his hands. Eddie can’t stop staring at her, the heat of embarrassment prickling his face, tongue-tied like a school boy with a crush each and every time he gets caught.

And that's the worst part of it–he does get caught, far more often than he'd like.

It’d been months, now, since the first time Stevie explicitly called him out for it–a warm Saturday in the summer when they had dragged the kids down to the arcade, trying to beat the heat with the dark, air-conditioned interior of the local nerd haunt.

Stevie had been watching Erica beat her own high score at Duck Hunt, leaned over the machine in her Daisy Duke cutoff shorts and a cropped pink jersey, ponytail swinging against her back and the scars littering her sides unashamedly on display. That’s something they had both been working themselves up to, together–not hiding their war wounds, fighting off the anxiety that came from people’s stares.

But Eddie had been staring for an entirely different reason when Stevie caught him.

As Erica ran off to ‘pummel’ Dustin after his latest Dig Dug win, Stevie propped an elbow on the abandoned game, shooting Eddie a knowing look.

“Like what you see, Munson?” she asked coyly.

Eddie’s entire face flamed with heat.

“I was just–your top!” he blurted. “I was just admiring your top, my lady. It’s…it’s cute. The pink–think that might be your color, Harrington.”

Stevie’s cheeks burned her own pretty pink to match it, then, which Eddie couldn’t help but preen about.

And if he noticed she started wearing a lot more pink around him after that, well…he tried not to read too much into it.

Just like the pretty pale pink she’s wearing today, attracting his eye and forcing Eddie to hold back a twitterpated sigh as he watches her, wrapped up in the bright primary colored pages of the X-Men

…This bullshit of his is definitely gonna get his ass kicked by Robin or Nancy, one of these days, he’s sure of it. Possibly both of them at once–Buck may just hold him down while Wheeler does what she does best.

But the truth is, it's not just about how Stevie’s figure has steadily filled out. He's not gonna lie, that's definitely part of it–but also…she just has this glow about her, now, like she's settling so happily into herself. It’s like that contentment beams out of her, radiant, in every little gesture, every giddy smile. He's drawn in by it, like Icarus with the sun, like a moth to a flame–too entranced to turn away, even if it might end up burning him in the long run.

The thing is, Stevie's beautiful, and she takes his breath away.

She’s become such an intrinsic part of his life, since everything that happened, he’s not entirely sure what he would do without her. Hell, they still share a bed, some nights–fighting back the nightmares together is always easier. And in the intervening months since that started, she's grown steadily softer beside him, curves pressing against his body where there were once hard planes and sharper angles. Her presence is no less warm and comforting than it had been from the beginning, though, her weight and smell familiar, the steady rhythm of her breathing when it finally evens out the same.

Eddie wonders if they were supposed to have stopped doing that, somewhere along the way–the sleeping together part, even though they're only doing it in the most platonic, just-friends sort of way possible. Then again, he's never put all that much stock in it, what he is and isn't supposed to be doing. Besides, how much difference could stopping really have made? Not a whole hell of a lot, in his opinion, considering they've both been bi as fuck the whole damn time.

Sharing a bed all the time doesn't really help his other problem–the staring, the thinking about Stevie's plush curves and soft skin–but that's his own shit to deal with and work out. Stevie shouldn't have to suffer through the nights alone just because Eddie can't keep his hard on for her in check.

So, yeah. He thinks she’s a knockout–of course he does–but the truth is, that’s all secondary to the way he feels about her. She’s steadily grown into one of his best friends, in the time since he’s finally gotten to actually know her. And if all he ever gets to do is look–and better yet, talk to her, bicker and joke and tease, share popcorn at movie nights crammed too close together on the Harrington’s couch and laugh at all the same stupid inside jokes–well, he considers himself honored for the privilege of it.

“What, Munson?” Stevie laughs suddenly, drawing him out of his reverie–during which he had, of course, still been staring–by smacking him lightly on the arm with her comic book.

That had been another secret, shared between them–Stevie liked the X-Men, she’d confessed, even if she couldn’t resist pretending otherwise to Dustin. She said the Mutants made her feel…seen, in a way she really hadn’t ever before.

"I know exactly what you mean, sweetheart," Eddie had agreed easily when she told him.

"Kinda figured you might, Eds,” she had shot him a soft smile, which he returned in kind.

That feeling of being seen–understood–stretched out beyond the pages of the comic book to encompass them both, the way they just fundamentally got each other.

"Mystique's got nothing on you, though," he had added with a wink, falling back on his old routine of borderline flirtation just for the pleasure of seeing her blush yet again, ducking her head as she gave his shoulder an exasperated nudge.

He blinks back to reality, finds himself looking into those same mesmerizing eyes now, big and brown and staring back at him expectantly. A smile plays at the corners of Stevie’s mouth as she puts her comic aside. Scooting closer, she reaches to give one of his test booklet pages a quick shake.

"You're supposed to be studying, you know. Believe me, I get how hard that can be, and I wasn't exactly the best in school…but I'm still like 99% sure you at least have to look at the page before you get it,” she teases. “And I haven’t got the answers to this question secretly penciled somewhere up my sleeve, promise. So, not really sure how staring at me is gonna help you here."

Eddie studies her face–the amused pink curve of her mouth, the cute little moles that dot her cheeks and throat.

That wistful sigh finally escapes him.

“Shit, sorry,” he apologies on autopilot, and then, the confession rolls off his tongue before he can stop it, “you’re just so…fucking pretty.”

As soon as the words have left his mouth, he cringes, preparing to blurt out yet another apology–and then Stevie’s finger presses against his lips. When he glances at her, he finds that her whole face has lit up.

Well, fuck. If she’s gonna look at him like that, he can’t even be sorry for his big mouth.

Then, surprise of all surprises–he feels a jolt as she leans in and pecks him once on the cheek, lips smooth from her cherry chapstick.

“Thanks. You’re sweet, Eddie,” Stevie murmurs, quietly, as she pulls back. Then, her smile turns mischievous, pretty eyes giving one of her patented, exasperated eyerolls. “And good of you to finally say something about it.”

Eddie barks out a disbelieving laugh before he can help it, hiding his face for a moment between his fingers.

“Seriously, Harrington, you know you’re a total babe.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stevie agrees, a glimmer of that overconfidence she’d carried herself with in school shining out. Eddie can’t even lie–he loves it. “But a girl still likes to hear it, now and again.”

“Shit, Stevie.” Head still ducked, Eddie reaches out slowly and takes her hand, twiddling with her fingers as he looks up from beneath the fringe of his bangs. “Now that I know you want me, too–I’ll tell you anytime you want.”

Reaching forward, Stevie tucks a tuft of hair behind Eddie’s ear, not letting him hide behind the curtain of it. Then, she leans in, and this time she presses a soft kiss to his lips.

Eddie sucks in another sharp, surprised breath, finally tasting that cherry flavor for himself.

“I’m totally gonna hold you to that one, Eds,” she says, leaving their foreheads pressed gently together even once she pulls back, “so just get ready for it.”

But, then, a mere moment later, Stevie is bouncing backwards on the bed, giggling when Eddie leans in, trying to chase after her lips again. He groans as she picks up his booklet and presses it against his chest.

“You can check me out all you want later, stud,” Stevie shoots him a wink, flipping open to the page he had left off on. “But, for now…you’ve gotta get back to work.”

When she settles down beside him this time, though, she stays close, hooking her chin over his shoulder.

“And, I’ve got an idea. A tried and true method for studying. Works every time.”

“That right?” Eddie tilts his head to face her, cocking an eyebrow. “Well, lay it on me, then, sweetheart. Tell me what’s going on in that pretty head of yours.”

He taps a finger lightly against her temple. The playful twinkle in Stevie’s eyes as she grins at him makes Eddie’s heart skip a bit.

“How about…I give you a kiss for every question you get right?” she murmurs, close enough her warm breath ghosts over his skin.

Eddie lets his eyes drop down to the red shine of her lips, and feels giddy, for once, knowing he can look his fill. After a long, loaded pause, he gives a sharp nod, clapping his hands together.

“You know what, Stevie? Studying never sounded so good.” Snatching up his pen again, he settles back with the test now spread across both their laps. “I’m in.”

And, this time, whenever Stevie distracts Eddie from his studies–well. At least he can tell himself it’s all in the name of a good cause.

#stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #transfem steve harrington #steve harrington #stevie harrington #my writing #my stuff #my things #bi eddie munson #bi steve harrington

399 notes · View notes

bangaveragewhitewine · 9 months

Text

Pinch Me

After your first date with a familiar face from home, waking up next to Steve feels like something out of a dream.

This is a follow on from Clean Slate but can be read as standalone fic.

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings/Content: Both you and Steve are in your late-twenties and were in school together; you met again on a blind date almost ten years later. This is an 18+ fic; oral (reader receiving), penetrative sex. Spoiler but use of ‘good girl’ in a sexy content. Steve Harrington being a smooth mf comes with it's own warning.

I have tried to leave physical descriptions as neutral and inclusive as possible! Some mentions of anxiety and insecurity. Plenty of kissing to make up for that!

Author’s Note: Clean Slate was intended to be a one off fic but here we are! This is my first attempt at smut in a fic, so hopefully it’s not horrendous! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

Thank you to my lovely @specialagentmonkey for beta reading for me💖

Once again, this is an 18+ fic. Please do not do any AI fuckery with my work or repost on other sites.

(divider by me)

Ever since you were little, your bed had been one of your favourite places. Soft sheets, books on the bedside table and a perfectly curated stack of pillows all topped off with the quilt you had made with your grandma before her arthritis got too bad.

In your mom’s photo albums there was more than one snapshot of you as a sleepy toddler with a wild bed head peeking up from your pillow on Christmas morning. Another few of you reading Nancy Drew in a pillow nest with a gap toothed smile.

By now, you had made your own little nest out in the big bad world now; a surprisingly roomy studio with big windows and noisy neighbours on one side. You had bought new sheets and a duvet printed with dusty pink roses on porcelain white cotton, curated a new stack of pillows and added too many decorative cushions on top of the same quilt that had made the move with you to Indianapolis and on to Chicago. There were still books on your bedside, a little dish for your jewellery to sit in while you slept, and an accumulation of lip balms, pillow mist and a candle or two to set the mood.

After long shifts and bad dates, your bed was still your haven. When you were particularly anxious, you could still hear the shrill of your old alarm blaring in your ears; the sound of that clock that had dragged you from sweet dreams in your beloved bed on chilly winter mornings. Some mornings, as you rode the subway to work, you swore you could hear your bed’s own siren song calling you to get off at the next stop, come home to read and nap the day away.

The sanctuary was for you alone, save for an occasional sleepover with your best friend Annie. Your dates were never invited to stay and make themselves comfortable. But this morning, waking up with Steve Harrington in your bed? That was new.

It was safe to say that your blind date went well. Really well.

You had resolutely avoided talking about school, only mentioning people each other might have remembered in the context of a story about your lives outside Hawkins. Steve was still in touch with a lot of people from home. You recognised some of their names; Robin who grew up a street away from you, Eddie Munson who you knew from art class and the occasional house party in your youth, even Nancy Wheeler. The way he lit up with so much fondness for ‘his kids’ who weren’t kids anymore made your face ache from smiling.

And Steve had listened, wanted to hear how you had liked Indianapolis for college (he had spent some time there too before making the move to Chicago with Robin after Eddie had sussed the place out and found an apartment near his own for them that they still shared). He had asked about your job, your life in the city, and took a real interest in you.

His attention had stayed on you, never straying to see who else was around or looking for an escape route. His honeyed gaze had stayed focused, watching how you used your hands when you spoke and dipped occasionally to look at your lips. Steve’s hand had stayed close by when his fingers weren’t outright intertwined with yours. He did this thing with his thumb, stroking it across the bone of your wrist, and a few times he had squeezed your hand while you spoke as if to say ‘go on, I’m listening’ - it was so centering for your often anxious mind.

You had a few more drinks, picked a few songs on the jukebox, kept talking and talking until you were sitting close enough to hear Steve’s stomach growl, making his cheeks flush pink.

“I know a pizza spot close by if you’re hungry?” you suggested.

“DiFontaines?” Steve smiled a little, nodding at your suggestion. “Yeah I love it. Let’s go.”

Neither of you wanted to end the night yet, say goodbye. So you didn’t. Instead you headed hand in hand into the warm night air, nicely buzzed and in search of hot pizza and crispy cold sodas.

The sun had dipped in the sky, taking the worst of the heat with it, but the night stayed humid and sticky. Despite the warmth, Steve held your hand and between stories, as you walked down the next block, he lifted his arm to twirl you when you passed a bar blaring Achy Breaky Heart onto the street; Billy Ray’s crooning was eclipsed by your laughter.

“You’re such a dork,” you giggled, pushing him gently before Steve quickly hugged you against his side again. Never had you felt so comfortable on a first date - but this wasn’t just any blind first date.

“Dork?! You been talkin’ to Robin?” Steve smiled down at you, sparking heat in your belly.

“Guess your reputation precedes you, Harrington.” With a burst of bravery, owing it to your younger self, you bounced up on your toes to peck his cheek before taking off a few steps ahead, turning to grin back at him as he jogged to catch up before you swerved into the pizza place.

You joined the line of late night pizza lovers and Steve had slipped an arm around you, leaned his chin on your head as your heart pounded hard. “So, what’re we getting?” he asked.

The familiarity of it all made you feel fuzzy around the edges, his thumb stroking your shoulder, the heat of him pressed against your side.

“It’s probably sacrilegious but the New York style slice, veggie or… artichoke.” Feeling brave again you cover his hand with yours and squeezed. “You?”

“Okay so we’re both sinners then.” He hummed, considering his options. “You’re vegetarian right?”

“Yeah, I try to be.” You liked how he had remembered a tiny detail from a story told hours ago.

“Okay. Four cheese then.”

“You sure?” Your interest piqued.

“Yeah, ‘course. You might not want a goodnight kiss if I have pepperoni breath.”

You swear your jaw dropped as Steve schooled his smile, watching the group of tipsy tourists ahead of you order their slices before his eyes darted back to you.

Steve was more timid, his voice quieter as he filled the silence between you when you had been too stunned to answer. “It’s also totally fine if you don’t want to kiss me, sweetheart. I know I can lay it on ki-“

Instead you rocked up to close the gap between you, ignoring the pinch of your sandals to lay a kiss onto his lips. Steve was quick to cup your cheek, keeping you there to kiss you back just as sweetly.

His nose has nudged against yours before he let you go, gazing into each other’s eyes until your attention was pulled to ‘order or get out’. His arm had stayed around you as you placed your orders, splitting a third classic deep dish slice between you so you wouldn't be run out of town with torches and pitchforks.

Full of pizza and soda and bravery, you had taken Steve’s hand again and strolled through the sticky Chicago night, steering him toward your apartment with the guise of proving that the same pink scrunchie you wore in high school was in fact on your bedside table. You both knew what you were really suggesting.

Part of you niggled away, expecting him to make a polite excuse to head home instead. But Steve only had eyes for you and sealed the deal with another kiss. You lost yourselves in each other, feeling younger together, and made out with Steve’s back against the shutters of somewhere long closed for the night as he squeezed your hips and you toyed with the ends of his hair. It was with regret that he had to tear himself away from your lips to hail a cab for you both, where you did your best to behave on the way to your apartment.

As you lay in bed that next morning, watching how Steve’s chest rose and fell with breath, how soft he looked in sleep, you felt warm and happy. His golden glow was just as dazzling in the morning light.

Your night together had been unrushed. Steve hadn’t just hit it and quit it with you. No, instead you had kissed and kissed, making out and letting your hands roam like two teenagers except there was no hurry; no seven minute deadline or someone pounding on a guest room door to see if it was occupied. The rumours in school had been true; Steve Harrington was an amazing kisser. You had listened to a friend of a friend rave about his soft lips after a lucky spin the bottle in junior year; now you had tasted him for yourself, you understood why she had brought it up so much. But Steve was in your bed now, not hers, you thought smugly.

On the way from the couch to your bed, he had unzipped your dress and you made sure his powdery blue shirt wouldn’t be too creased in the morning, draping it over the back of a chair instead of leaving it balled up on the ground.

Steve had made sure you knew how beautiful he thought you were, kissed you everywhere before taking his time with you and spent an age between your legs as he worked you open for him. Lying there the next morning, you could feel your face heat up when you remembered how his touch set you on fire. The pleasant all over ache weighed you down into your mattress.

With a messy bed-head, Steve woke a little after you and saw you smiling dreamily to yourself. He reached out to pull you closer, tucking his face into your neck.

“Mornin’.” His voice was gravelly and deep.

“Morning.” You brush his hair back gently and dot a kiss to his forehead before stroking your fingers over his shoulders soothingly, dragging them down his arm.

“S’nice,” he said, lips moving against your neck before he pressed a few kisses there.

Lying face to face on your pillow, your fingers played with the fine gold chain that settled around his throat, dipping lower into the thick hair on his chest.

“I had a really good time last night.” Steve’s fingers walk up your arm, before twirling your hair around one carefully.

When you look up at him, he’s got this little smile on his face. He inches closer, letting his gaze drop to your own smiling mouth before you share a slow morning kiss.

“Me too,” you whisper, settling your hand on the side of his neck before returning his kiss again. Your fingers skate across and behind the lobe of his ear, the underside of his jaw and the shade of stubble there.

With his large soft hands, he drags you closer still, pressing you right up against him. The t-shirt you had pulled on after the sweat on your body had started to cool last night was rucked up over your hip as Steve’s thumb strokes the dip there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling warm all over despite the chill of your box fan to cool the room down. This morning you're warmed by the heat and glow that radiates from Steve Harrington, hotter than the sun itself.

“You’re really beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, shifting his weight so you’re on your back again with one of his thighs slotted between yours. Steve brushes your hair back, fanning it out over the pillow before dipping down to kiss you again. He leaves you breathless before his lips trail lower to your jaw and neck.

It’s an intimacy you hadn’t had with anyone in a long time, feeling safe enough with Steve to let yourself be loved on like this. You will yourself to be present with him, bask in his glow as it warms you, but barbs of anxiety have crept in to distract you.

Last night was amazing, slow and syrupy and tender. If that had been the last time you ever saw Steve Harrington you could have probably died happy - happier than before anyway. But instead he stayed, and as he kisses you again (morning breath ignored and forgotten). Steve didn’t care that you had faded into the background of your shared high school halls, he had loved how you had the bravery to break out of Hawkins and be you now.

Steve notices you tensing up and peels himself back, thumbing your cheek again as he says your name. “Do you want me to stop?” he asks, concern in his eyes. It makes your heart ache.

You shake your head and cover the hand on your cheek. “No. Never.” You pull him to you again and relish the weight of him on top, your hands over his shoulders. “I’m getting in my head. You’re straight out of a dream, Steve. I feel like asking you to pinch me.”

You feel a little embarrassed about being quite so honest with him like this, but he oozes a magnetism and calmness that makes you want to tell him everything. But you don’t want to scare him away, be left waiting for another call that’s not coming, or hear him say ‘that was fun but I’m not looking for anything serious right now’.

He smiles and leans his weight on one strong arm so he’s not totally crushing you. “I can, if you want. But I promise I’m real. And I’m just some guy.”

You laugh. “Some guy? Nah Steve, I think you might be some sort of apparition. Or like, a Greek god.” You squeeze his bicep for emphasis. “Definitely dreaming.”

Steve rolls his eyes, playful, and pinches your cheek lightly. “See? Silly.” He presses a kiss to where he pinched before going in for another on your smiling mouth. Steve was not shy or stingy with his kisses, you had learned. You liked that a lot.

“I think you’re pretty amazing, y’know. If you’re not sick of me yet, would you wanna go for breakfast with me?” Steve kneels up between your thighs, the sheets pooling around his hips. Your eyes go right to the white Calvin’s pulled tight over the thickness of him. Your eyes rake up over his body until you’re caught staring, ogling, and Steve smiles when you pull a pillow over your face. You certainly hadn’t been so shy last night; he laughs and lifts it away to gaze down at you, hoping you will say yes.

“C’mere. Then you can take me for breakfast.” You coax him back down, hooking one leg over his hip. “Prove to me again that you’re not just in my imagination?”

Steve grins and rolls himself down over you. “You been imagining me like this? Scandalous,” he teases before resuming his kisses from earlier, which you are eager to return. Your bodies move together, hips tilting toward each other seeking out that pressure that makes your tummy sizzle. As Steve’s hands slip under your sized-up sleep shirt again, your own dips down to cup him through his underwear. His breath hitches, eyes fluttering shut.

“Baby…”

Baby.

You smile and repeat the movement firmer this time before beginning to coax him to hardness, breaking your hold on him only to help him remove your tshirt. It’s lost to the floor along with Steve’s briefs. His breath is hot against your mouth as your bodies press together. The feeling of Steve’s hands on your breasts draws out a whine that’s swallowed by another kiss; his hands are so big and they feel like they are everywhere, like Steve is everywhere. His mouth and hands trail lower, spreading you out for him on your dusty rose bedsheets. He cups you there, thumb swiping in a delicious rhythm that has you gasping against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, kissing the tops of your breasts. “Let me hear those pretty noises again, baby. Please?”

You whimper as his fingers ease you open, so gentle like the polite ‘please’. Steve had proven he was a talker already last night, his words making you feel hot all over as he had pushed so carefully inside, turning tipsy giggles into needy gasps. You felt the same heat engulf you now as he lay wet kisses to your tummy, your hips, pausing only so that he could lie comfortably between your thighs after shouldering his way between them.

He’s looking up at you, his cheek against the meat of your thigh. Lips curve into a smile when you meet his gaze, and he closes his eyes when you stroke his hair back. One of his hands takes yours and rests together on your belly as he dips to kiss you where you need him, humming against you when you gasp his name.

Your eyes drop closed, fireworks bursting behind them as he makes you feel so good. The once or twice any other man had done this was lacklustre in skill and enthusiasm, which Steve possessed in every cell of his being. When you chance looking at him you spot his hips shifting against the mattress, chasing relief for his own ache which makes you moan louder. His whispered “good girl” sends your eyes rolling back into your skull.

Steve brings you to your peak quicker than anyone ever had before. Mindful that you might be a little tender from the night before as he presses one long and thick finger inside before a second joins it a few moments later, gentle but with a purpose of making you forget your own name. His shoulder presses firm against your thigh, spreading you wider as his fingers pump steadily, keeping the pace and press against the spot inside you that makes you feel fit to explode.

You squeeze his arm while your capacity for coherent speech vanishes, focusing only on the swirl and suck of his mouth and the crook and curl of his fingers. It’s so sudden, and you swear you’ve never made a noise so loud as you moan for him, trembling all over. He whispers his praise against your thigh before bringing his mouth back to where you’re weeping for him and doesn’t stop until your thighs are crushing his ears, muffling your voice.

Chest heaving, you feel him move up to check on you. He brings you close, holding you as you glow with him and presses feathery kisses to your hairline. “You still with me? Not still dreaming about me?”

“Mm, think I died,” you manage, peeking up at him with teary eyes. Another tender kiss to the dopey smile on your lips. “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, sweetheart.”

His grin is deservedly cocky, earning himself the warm grasp of your hand around his length. The prettiest frown graces his face as you squeeze and slowly pump your hand, your lips moving to his neck.

Steve’s gaze moves from your face, dragging down your body to where your hand holds him. His size makes your hand look small and you feel the kick of his arousal on your palm. You manage to swing one wobbly leg over him, sitting on the breadth of his thighs with new confidence as he holds you steady.

You lean across him, earning kisses to your chest as you fish for a condom to rip open and roll on to him before lowering yourself down into his lap.

Sinking your teeth into the fat of your lower lip at the stretch of him, Steve huffs out a breathy swear against your chest. His hands settle on your hip and thigh, grounding and never rushing as you breathe into the feeling of him inside you before beginning to move.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, watching you in awe. “So pretty f’me.”

That spurs you on, chasing the tingle deep in your abdomen. Your fingers lace with Steve’s on your thigh, the other hand braced against the wall behind his shoulder.

His head leans back by your hand, turning to kiss your wrist as you move in his lap. You curl your arm around him, bringing each other close as his hips hitch up to meet you.

“So good, baby,” he murmurs, kissing you again as his breath comes quicker now. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty.”

Gasping his name, you hold him tight to you as you move together. He can’t take his eyes off of you, “Good girl, so gorgeous.”

Messy kisses broken by gasps and Steve’s praise are traded back and forth. His hands feel huge where they hold you at your waist.

The cord of pleasure deep in your pelvis winds tighter. Steve’s jaw twitches as he holds on to you, and you kiss the tense muscle before whispering, “You make me feel so good.” The sound he makes is almost a whimper and he squeezes the meat of your ass. Your hips continue their rise and roll, you feel like every cell of your body is aflame.

Steve watches you, praising words fanning the fire low in your belly. The burn in your thighs makes you pause and he takes the chance to kiss you stupid again.

“Feel good? Yeah?” When you nod, feeling spaced out, he pecks your swollen lips and whispers, “Let me take care of you, sweetheart.” You wonder if he lets anyone take care of him, return his generosity and affections.

He is so gentle as he holds you to his chest and slouches lower on the bed. You close your eyes at the feeling of being held like this, cheek to his broad shoulder. His feet are flat and firm on the bed and the experimental thrust up into you makes you sigh his name. Steve sweeps your hair to one side so that he can kiss your neck again, checking in with you before continuing.

His name echoes on your bedroom walls as he grazes the elusive spot inside of you; the way you press right against his pelvis gives a rub of friction that makes lightning zing through your limbs. “That’s it. Huh? Right there?” His voice is tight as he drives up into you again, faster now with the new angle.

You can hardly summon the sense to make a sentence, babbling now with how good he’s making you feel, the occasional broken curse or plea. After last night and this morning, the neighbours won’t be happy or forget Steve’s name anytime soon - not that you give a fuck.

You kiss him again, though now you’re both so far gone it’s messy and needy, hot breaths against each other’s cheeks. The lick of his tongue against yours makes you shiver. You feel ready to burst, pleasure building as his hips drive up hard into you

With the feeling of him so deep inside of you, you fall over the edge again. The feeling of your orgasm, clenching and fluttering and soaking, drags him with you, groaning against your neck when his hips slam and stutter still. His arms are tight around you, both heaving deep breaths together.

Steve eases you both down onto your sides, tangled together. You feel dazed and heavy but the stroke of Steve’s fingers on your hip, his hot breath on your collarbone grounds you until the sounds of Chicago on a Saturday morning remind you that this wasn’t a dream.

“You okay? That.. Jesus…” Steve’s voice is breathy, but you hear his smile.

“Yeah. I’m…amazing.”

“Yeah, you are.”

There’s comfortable silence as you both come back to earth.

After a few moments Steve dots kisses to your cheeks, forehead and nose before he eases out of you to bin the full condom. Soon you’re back in bed with him, held safe in his arms. His cheeks are pink and you want to squeeze them.

“You’re so gorgeous, Steve.” Your fingers brush over the moles dotted along his cheekbone, and he catches your hand to kiss your fingers sweetly in distraction. “Hey. Look at me, Harrington.”

“Back to Harrington?” he teases, looking into your eyes with faux intensity to make you giggle. “M’lookin’.”

“Steve. Steven.” You match his teasing with pretend-seriousness.

“Not Steven. Please, baby.” His mouth turns down, exaggerating his unhappiness with you, but the stroke of his fingers on your hip say otherwise.

“Ms O’Donnell called you Steven.”

“Please don’t bring O’Donnell up while my dick is still out.”

You both dissolve into giggles, pressing your face against the chain on his chest. “Shut up, she had that much of an effect on you?! Calling you Steven gets you all worked up? Okay perv, good to know.”

“You’re sick in the head.” His voice is shaky with laughter against your hair. “S’a good thing you’re cute.”

“Mhm. Definitely a sicko. Two cute sickos.” You take his face in your hands again. “You’re a great date Steve Harrington.”

He smiles, but it falls a little - you just about catch it. It makes your heart hurt. Your inability to just say that you don’t want this to be a one time thing makes you want to pull your own hair out.

“I do my best. I had so much fun with you. I’m just kinda… sick of first dates though. Yknow?”

“I do know. But that’s not how last night felt.”

There’s a flash of recognition in his eyes as he nods.

“Definitely helped that we had a bit of a head start on the ‘where are you from?’ shit..” There’s a twinkle of playfulness in his heart wrenching sincerity.

“I hate that part.” You look into his eyes. It makes your chest flutter, how he looks at you.

“I know we didn’t know each other all that well in school..”

“Since kindergarten.” Your shrug is tiny, you smile playfully as he groans.

“Since kindergarten. Shit. What’ve I been doing all this time…” he asks the ceiling.

“Same as me. Getting out of Hawkins. Going on crappy dates...”

“Mm, true. Growing up, I guess.” He’s quiet for a moment, “Last night wasn’t crappy. Best date I’ve been on in a long long time.”

“Me too. I think I’ll let you take me out again, if you want to…” you say, whispering bravely as you act all playful despite your hammering heart.

The smile on Steve’s face makes the butterflies in your stomach swoop again. You weren’t the only one who felt so dimmed by dating around, having your heart broken. There’s a beat of silence, charged electric as Steve looks at your lips and you touch his chain again.

“You like pancakes, or waffles?” Steve’s eyes twinkle.

You squeeze the bulk of his bicep. “French toast.”

His head tips back in laugh, showing off his delicious throat. “Oh she’s fancy?”

“She is.”

He leans in to kiss you in more time. “I can do fancy, baby.”

“You’ve done fancy twice. Fancy is hungry, Steve.”

Your laughter echoes in the golden morning light that fills your room as his fingers skate over your ribs, finding the ticklish spots before he hauls you as close as possible again.

Steve’s nose presses against your cheek, smooching one more kiss there before sitting up to find his pants. As you stargaze at the constellation on his broad back, you think this might just be the start of something really amazing.

comments, reblogs and likes are not simply appreciated - they are cherished

#steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #Steve Harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington #Steve Harrington x y/n #steve harrington is a total dreamboat #my fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x f!reader #steve stranger things #Steve Harrington smut #bangaveragefics

712 notes · View notes

jmliebert · 3 months

Text

☾⋆⁺₊⋆quiet nights spent with Gale⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾

in Waterdeep (little bit of fluff, little bit of cozy)

The air is filled with the gentle glow of candles, casting warm light that dances across the walls. It creates an atmosphere of countless nights spent in the company of Gale. The open windows invite a gentle summer breeze, caressing your bodies as you both hunch over endless books, scrolls, and ancient parchments, studying and exchanging thoughts. The enchanted piano plays in the background. The night is starry and the moon is as beautiful as ever.

Sometimes you catch Gale massaging his temples while mumbling under his nose when he's reading his pupils' work. He shares some of his thoughts with you here and there, and you can't help but smile at his furrowed brows. It almost feels like you're teaching alongside him. When Gale looks particularly tired you massage his tense shoulders. (sometimes it ends up in the bedroom but that's a story for another time!)

Evenings on his balcony, now sitting in a favourite spot for both of you, involve conversations, wine and crips grapes. Heart to hear, you watch the horizon, enjoying each other's company. Sometimes words are unnecessary; you simply exist together, souls full of love and devotion. Blessed to be here, together.

As you prepare to sleep, Gale observes you with genuine interest and with those eyes that conveys pure admiration. He ask a lot of questions and is proven surprisingly knowledgable about skincare. Adores the smell of your damp, soft skin after a bath with some scented oils.

In bed, he reads "for pleasure", getting absorbed in the story. You can tell he truly loves reading and admiring the art of a good story. Sometimes Gale reads aloud, petting your hair or holding your hand gently until you fall asleep. And sometimes you're not sleeping at all, talking away the night, sharing your deepest thoughts. Eyes starry. You could tell him everything, and you feel like it's the same for him. Your connection goes far beyond being just lovers; you are soulmates.

you feel so loved when you are laying on his chest, hearing him hum peacefully, feeling his heart beating and magic coursing through his veins

you feel so loved when he kisses every one of your fingertips with such dedication

you feel so loved when he places his head on your tights; a gesture of profound affection and vulnerability

In the stillness of the night, Gale is even more loving, more romantic than he already is. Every night, he utters those three precious words,

" I love you"

as you fall asleep. His kisses your forehead gently, holding you in a tight embrace as if he never wanted to let you go. In the darkness, when it seems like there's only the two of you in this vast and strange world, Gale reveals the most exquisite, soul-ravaging declarations that leaves you breathless. It's a moment when time halts, and in the intensity of his words, you sense that Gale loves you with every fiber of his being.

*(and it's very vocal about it)*

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

you can find more of my works about gale ♡here♡

271 notes · View notes

crystallinestars · 5 months

Text

Winter and Christmas HCs

Little HCs on how Kaveh, Alhaitham, Albedo, and Childe spend the Christmas season with you. I might make a part 2 with other boys if people like this.

(Apologies is anything sounds a bit weird. I wrote this while running a fever, so I can't tell if something sounds off)

Kaveh

🍷 Likes the Christmas season because it gives him an excuse to decorate your house and make it look beautiful. Kaveh enjoys decorating the house and Christmas tree together with you because, to him, it's a bonding activity where your hard work can result in something beautiful, which greatly appeals to him.

He goes all out hanging garlands, lights, and paper snowflakes inside your home and also sets up miniature Christmas trees both indoors and outdoors. He pays careful attention to both the exterior and interior of the home, bedecking it with so many decorations that you don’t know how you’ll store all of it once Spring arrives. Helping him set everything up takes a majority of the day, but you have to admit that Kaveh has a good eye for aesthetics because your house looks like something out of a fairy tale.

Kaveh will shower you with praises once you finish setting everything up, but he expects you to compliment his efforts in return. He simply wants recognition for his work, and he values your opinion on whether or not you genuinely like how he decorated the house.

🍷 Is full of Christmas spirit. Gives to charities, goes window shopping with you, and gushes to you about all the beautiful scenery you can find around shops during this time of year. He also enjoys going on short walks with you to admire the winter landscape even if he complains about the cold later. He’s absolutely enamored with how magical this time of year feels.

🍷 He is a master at building gingerbread houses. Rather than buying a kit from the store, Kaveh opts to design and bake his own. Building a gingerbread house is in some ways similar to his work as an architect, so designing one costs him very little effort. Baking isn’t Kaveh’s strongest suit though he’s decent at it, but if you are a better baker than him, the architect will greatly appreciate your help in making the dough for him. Getting all the necessary materials, Kaveh spends hours painstakingly cutting pieces of the house and baking them in the oven.

You don’t interfere with his creative process, knowing that your craftsmanship is nowhere near as precise as his, and your help would most likely result in Kaveh needing to fix your mistakes. Instead, you keep him company while he assembles the gingerbread house, chatting with him and getting him to take breaks to eat because he tends to get too wrapped up in his work. Kaveh won’t tell you, but he genuinely appreciates your company because it makes him less lonely.

The gingerbread house takes a few days to construct, but the final result is well worth the effort. The house looks magical. For a house made out of candy, it looks surprisingly realistic and grand, and it makes you feel guilty at the mere thought of eating and destroying such a delicate work of art. If you look closer, you’ll notice two little gingerbread people holding hands next to the entrance of the house. One looks like Kaveh while the other resembles you.

🍷 Kaveh is also a master at making snowmen. I’m sorry, but his snowmen will blow yours out of the water. He doesn’t settle for simply stacking three spheres together, jamming some sticks and a carrot, and then calling it a day. No, Kaveh spends hours collecting snow and constructing a beautiful snow sculpture that could honestly win a contest if he chose to enter one.

Out of all the ones he makes, his favorite one is of you. He spent way too much time making your sculpture as accurate to the real you as he could, and even added some artistic flourish (flowers, extravagant clothing, accessories etc) to enhance your beauty. His sculptures draw the attention of many passersby, especially children. Will probably get roped into teaching children how to make these sculptures because the little kids want to learn how to make them too.

🍷 He catches colds easily. If he sees you without a hat or scarf, he will take off his own scarf/hat and put it on you while scolding you for not dressing warmly because you could catch a cold. He also gives you his gloves if you don’t have any on you, and is prepared to give you the clothes on his back if you’re still cold. He ends up catching a cold himself instead. Kaveh feels embarrassed by this turn of events and won’t let you care for him at first, but please nurse him back to health. He’s not great at taking care of his health and will almost cry from how loved he feels if you take care of him when he’s at his most vulnerable.

🍷 Is too broke to afford the presents he wants to give you and his friends. Despite his efforts to save up money for Christmas shopping, it’s still not enough, so he makes your present himself. He’s very nifty with his hands so he makes you a little trinket or gadget that both looks pretty and serves a practical purpose that you can make use of in your daily life.

🍷 Likes trying out limited-time Christmas teas and hot chocolates with you to determine which ones taste the best so he can give some to his friends as gifts. Also enjoys making Christmas-themed latte art for you and is very good at it.

Alhaitham

🎧 Doesn’t decorate the house because he can’t be bothered and sees it as a meaningless endeavor. If you want to decorate it, he won’t stop you, though don’t expect him to help (so he tells you). However, if you ask him to help you put up a decoration someplace that’s too high for you to reach, he’ll sigh and come over and do as you ask. For all his indifference towards the holiday season and all it entails, Alhaitham has a soft spot for you and will still help you if it makes you happy. Unfortunately, his nature simply doesn’t allow him to resist the urge to provide critique on the placement of certain decorations if he thinks they’re in a bad spot.

🎧 Has practically zero Christmas spirit. He doesn’t want to build snowmen, won’t bother with gingerbread houses, won’t even look in the direction of all the Christmas-themed mugs/candles/clothes/other junk that serves very little purpose. He knows it’s all just a corporate scheme to get money out of people, however, he actively uses any mugs or sweaters you give to him as a gift. He may say there was no need for you to do any of this, but he does treasure the things you give him and takes better care of them than most other things in his house.

🎧 Among all Christmas-related activities, Alhaitham enjoys reading with you by the fireplace the most. The fire provides enough light for him to read comfortably, and snuggling with you under a warm blanket on the couch while listening to the crackle of the logs creates a nice ambiance that he enjoys. Bonus points if you have a mug of tea or coffee somewhere nearby for the two of you to enjoy while you read.

🎧 He’s not the most creative when it comes to giving gifts. He’s the type to not know what to give someone if the person already has everything they need, so he relies on you to help him shop for presents. It’s easier to fight the crowds with two people instead of one when it comes to getting items before they’re all snatched up, plus leaving the responsibility of picking presents to you absolves him of the need to worry about what to get his friends. Don’t worry, Alhaitham will assist you with the decision-making process by providing his two cents about each gift you pick until you both settle on something you think is good.

He hates shopping during this season because of how loud and crowded it gets, so Alhaitham develops a tendency to hold your hand so you won’t get separated in the throng of people.

Like the slacker he is, Alhaitham also relies on you to wrap up the presents because his initial decision is to simply place them in a bag and call it a day. He’s just not into arts and crafts.

🎧 If Haitham notices you rubbing your hands together from the cold, he will take one of your hands in his and place them in the pocket of his jacket to keep them warm.

🎧 Has a sharp eye and quickly notices if you own worn-out winter clothes or don’t have things like hats, scarves, or gloves. He’ll buy you a high-quality version to replace it, sparing no expense at getting you something durable that will last a long time while also keeping you warm. It’s worth the money, in his opinion. Since he believes in giving practical gifts, expect a brand-new winter jacket/boots/gloves to be given to you as a present from him. That, or a book on your hobbies.

Albedo

🧪 Doesn’t fully understand the hype behind Christmas but joins in on the festivities for the sake of garnering new experiences and trying to determine what people like about it so much. He does end up liking the holiday and winter season in general, albeit not for personal reasons. He finds it adorable to watch Klee and you enjoy the snow, build gingerbread houses, and build snowmen together. He helps to improve your gingerbread house/snowman making by giving a few pointers here and there but otherwise lets you two make them how you want. Albedo finds value in other people’s ideas and thus wants you to have the freedom to express yourselves how you like.

🧪 Wants to try Christmas-related activities, one of which is kissing under a mistletoe. He finds the concept amusing but first makes sure you are on board with the idea. If you are, expect mistletoe to appear in your shared home one day. It’ll be hung above the dining table, the main entrance, and above his work desk. His goal is to get kisses from you before you share a meal together, when you leave or enter your home, and when you bring him tea when he’s working at his desk. Albedo loves it if you become flustered when spotting the mistletoe at first. Your bashful expression gets a soft chuckle out of him before he leans in for a kiss.

🧪 Albedo likes the winter landscape. There’s something so pristine about the white snow blanketing the world and muting all sound. He spends quite a bit of his free time painting the winter landscapes. Once in a while, purely for fun, he makes a painting of you and Klee playing in the snow. The memory of watching you two building Jumpy Dumpty out of snow still makes him smile.

🧪 One of his favorite Christmas-related activities to do with you is trying to concoct Christmas-flavored teas and sweets. He experiments with classic flavors like peppermint, gingerbread, cinnamon, and eggnog among others, and tries to come up with unique flavors by combining several of them. You tend to be his guinea pig during these experiments, and while a few of the results end up being misses, the majority you actually end up liking. It becomes a tradition for Albedo to make you your favorite blend of tea or cookie recipe of his own creation during this season.

🧪 Makes your present himself. As an alchemist, he can make a lot of unusual and unique things, but he settles for more simple things like creating a body wash with a scent you like and that also works wonders for your skin, or giving you a rare plant if you’re into botany, or specially designed gloves that keep your fingers warm no matter how cold it gets. The presents he makes aren’t anything extravagant, but they’re chosen with thought and care. Albedo also helps Klee make a fancy card to give you for Christmas and helps her make a present for you too which ends up being a Jumpy Dumpty plush similar to her own.

🧪 If Albedo notices you’re cold, he’ll give you some of his own clothes to try and keep you warm, such as wrapping his scarf around your neck or giving you his hat. He’ll gently remind you to dress warmer for the winter weather. If you still end up getting sick, he’ll take care of you until you’re all better.

Childe

🐋 Having grown up in a snowy country, Childe is used to dealing with a variety of problems that snow can bring, and even has a fondness for it because it reminds him of his home and family. He enjoys going on walks to admire the winter scenery and gets you to tag along with him. He tells you lots of stories of how he and his siblings used to play in the snow and the shenanigans they got up to.

If you’re the type to get cold easily, Childe will readily give you his winter clothes to warm you up. The cold doesn’t bother him as much as it does you, plus he rarely gets sick, so he can get away with losing a few pieces of clothes to give you. Not that you’re complaining. His winter clothes keep you warm better than anything you ever owned, plus they smelled like him in a comforting sort of way.

🐋 Loves to engage in snowball fights with his siblings, and moreso when you join in on the fun. Him and you getting chased by his three younger siblings who toss snowballs at you. Though the children are a bit clumsy and rarely hit either you or him, Childe still lets them win the game on purpose so the little ones can feel good about themselves. He only asks that you play along and let his siblings win, and feels a surge of love towards you when you do.

Childe likes playing in the snow with his siblings in general. Making snow angels, building funny-looking snowmen, and constructing snow forts are just some of the things they all do together as a family. His siblings like to include you in their activities and try to make you feel like a part of their group.

🐋 Childe likes to bring you along on his ice fishing trips if it’s something that you’re interested in doing with him. He’ll teach you all about cutting through the ice, how to operate a fishing rod, and what to look for while fishing. Though he tends to ice fish alone so he has some quiet time to reflect on himself, he also likes fishing together with you as a bonding activity. He doesn’t make fun of you if you fail to reel in a catch, simply giving you some pointers on what you can do to improve your chances next time.

🐋 To Childe, Christmas means spending time with family. Every year, he always makes an effort to celebrate the holiday together with his family, and after getting into a relationship with him, you become a part of his family celebrations, as well. His family welcomes you with open arms and teaches you about their culture’s unique customs and dishes when it comes to celebrating the holiday. You are urged to try new dishes, participate in festive activities, and help convince the children that Santa is real when their father comes in dressed in the costume of one. Even if you feel a bit awkward about celebrating together with his family, Childe appreciates you a lot for taking the chance. To him, three things are most important in his life: self-improvement, his family, and you. Seeing you get along ith his family makes him really happy.

🐋 His main goal when choosing presents is picking something you’ll like. The secondary goal is picking something that will impress you. As such, he doesn’t limit himself when buying you a gift. If you’re into clothing, he’ll buy you a ton of high-quality, high-end fashion that costs a crazy amount of money. If you’re more into artsy interests, he’ll buy you the most expensive art tools and supplies on the market so your art won’t be limited by money. If you like sports, he buys all kinds of fancy gadgets to make working out easier for you. He buys the best that his money can afford without really questioning it because he believes you deserve only the best.

🐋 Mistletoe isn’t a part of his culture, but he finds the idea of it quite fun. He definitely wants to try it with you and will go as far as carrying a branch of it in his pocket and whipping it out to hold above your heads whenever he wants a kiss from you. Kissing whenever you two accidentally meet under a mistletoe is all well and good, but he thinks it’s more fun to get kisses out of you this way whenever he wants. You might have to snatch the mistletoe away from him because he can get too carried away with constantly pestering you for more kisses. He just can’t get enough of your lips.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #alhaitham x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #albedo x reader #genshin fluff

194 notes · View notes

redslug · 8 months

Text

NEUROSLUG NEUROSLUG NEUROSLUG

Ahem. So, I spent the last day force-feeding Stable Diffusion my art to teach it the concept of an anthropomorphic insect. As a result, I have a working LoRA that imitates my coloring style fairly decently and it can kinda do bug anthros. Emphasis on "kinda", it still needs a lot of iterations to be able to maintain proportions on it's own. However, it does quite great when provided with a simple line drawing as a quideline. Here are some examples I whipped up in like 2 hours. Input image:

AI's pure output:

After touchup:

There was quite a bit of touchup on this first attempt with the generation serving mostly as a rough under drawing, but then again I didn't stress the network with details too much. Then I tried squeezing more definition out of it. Attempt 2:

It can be quite competent when I supplement it with styles it knows well. I only used 30 of my own images to teach it, so it might be a little starved for examples at the moment. Adding "Bob Eggleton" seems to knock some sense into it for now. Okay, still images are working, now let's bash Neuroslug against some animation.

For something named Stable Diffusion it's not the most stable, huh. I'm still pleased with the result though, it's pretty cute. And while trying to make it cute I learned a little thing. AI art isn't art. It's a mixture of alchemy, gambling, detective work and demon summoning it seems. And a bit of just art. What I mean by that is that it can attach very unexpected meanings to words. Since I trained the AI on just anthro insects, it follows their defined anatomy quite closely. Specifically, they do not have breasts. As a result, adding "with big boobs" to the prompt changed the shading style and colors but not the actual anatomy. And so, most of my prompts have this lovely phrase just to improve the colors. 'Kay, time for the freak show. At some point during testing the machine decided that my moth isn't decent enough and put panties on her suddenly.

Now that's a booty

Look at those eyes

They have seen things As you can probably tell these have no sketch to guide the result.

It's still bad but it's got the right spirit.

THICC

Surprisingly cute even if janky.

Looks better than it has any right to Now I'll crawl back into my hole to play with settings for an indeterminate amount of time. I'll publish my mini-me for you all to mess with once I deem it stable enough.

#slug's experiments #anthro #insect #moth #wooo i'm giddy #all the things I can do now #It's like i was gifted double length days to make stuff #with this i can make comics in painterly style that would be too time consuming otherwise

349 notes · View notes

irkimatsu · 2 months

Note

I love your Husk works! Could you please write one where fem!reader gets along with everyone and Husk doesn't even realize that he's catching feelings, but maybe on a night out with everyone, someone comes up and starts heavily flirting with her. Ends with confessions and sugary sweet tooth rotting fluff please. 😍

God damn, anon, do you have any idea how hard it is to wring a confession out of this man? I was going along at a steady pace and then I got stuck for hours! I genuinely hope you like slowburn, because Husk doesn't go from zero-to-love easily. I think he's gotten a nice start here, though. It's definitely fluffy!

Husk/Fem!Reader starting a relationship. Mentions of drinking and attempted sexual assault that Husk interrupts before things get too heavy. SFW, 2.8k words. Enjoy! I hope this is what you had in mind, anon! Thank you so much for reading my works!

Your first few months staying at the Hazbin Hotel have gone quite smoothly; as smoothly as anything there can ever go, anyway. Charlie took an instant liking to you - she takes an instant liking to everyone, so it’s nothing special, but still. She can be a bit overbearing, but you know she means well, and she’s grateful to have someone who doesn’t immediately write off her trust exercises from the start.

Still, after all the sharing circles and art therapy, you occasionally find yourself craving more “adult” fun, and that’s where Angel and Cherri come in. It’s not that you don’t want to be redeemed, but what could be so sinful about enjoying yourself a little? You’re not doing anything dangerous or drastic, no drugs and no getting involved with the wrong people; you’re just having fun drinking, dancing, maybe smashing up some abandoned property if the opportunity strikes. Charlie can’t get mad at destruction if no one cares about the thing you just blew up, right?

The bartender, Husk, isn’t nearly as keen on those nights on the town, but you’ve still managed to bond with him on nights where you prefer to stay in. He’s a surprisingly good listener underneath his gruff exterior. (Perhaps too good of a listener; you hope he keeps ignoring whatever bullshit you might have spouted off after one too many of his cocktails.) He also has plenty of stories of his own, mostly from the time he spent alive. When you could get him talking, he’d weave incredible tales of nightlife, both from his home city in Las Vegas and all the other places he’d visited in his life. He seemed especially wistful when talking about a woman he knew back then. He could talk for hours about all the famous sites he was able to take her to, all the songs he would sing for her, and all the starry skies he’d dance with her under.

“It’s not like I blame her for leaving. I’m the one who screwed it up. But being in love… it was nice while it lasted.”

You try to encourage him with the hope that he could fall in love again, but he shakes his head with a bitter smile.

“I lost the ability to love years ago.”

—-

Your friendship with Angel and Cherri is so different compared to your friendship with Husk, so it took a few months before you could have a night out with all three of them. Charlie is once again less enthused about the idea of you four going out to party, but you promise to be relatively well behaved.

You promise, anyway. You can’t make promises for Angel’s sake, and as much as you love her, you know better than to have any faith in Cherri.

You’re surprised Husk agreed to come to a sex club at all. He never seemed like the type to be into that sort of thing. You’re less surprised to see that he has no intention of flirting with anyone and is instead perfectly happy to sit by the wall and knock back shots as quickly as the bartender can pour them.

Couldn’t he drink himself stupid back at the hotel, though? Why did he even come?

Is it just you, or has he been watching you the whole night?

The hours tick by, and you, Angel, and Cherri become progressively more wasted. Angel is currently hanging off of a muscular bull demon - damn, good for him - while Cherri tells you about another resident who used to stay at the hotel before he tragically lost his life during the last extermination.

“He was such a fucking idiot that it was charming, ya know? God damn I should have gotten to know him better when he was still around! I heard this rumor about him and never even got to find out if it was true!”

As she speaks, Cherri catches sight of a cobra demon who is currently chatting up a cluster of punk girls.

“Well, damn… maybe I’ll get to find out tonight. Don’t wait around for me, I’ll find my way back!”

With that announcement, Cherri is gone, leaving only you and Husk with about a dozen bar stools between you. He’s definitely keeping an eye on you; there’s still liquid in his glass, and he’s watching you instead of guzzling it.

What’s his deal? If he wants to spend the night with you, why doesn’t he just come over here? You decide not to go over there yourself; no sense in rewarding him if he’s playing mind games.

You instead turn your attention to a handsome wolf demon who has taken Cherri’s seat. “Drinking all alone, love?” he says, his deep voice smooth as butter. Right away this man gives you the air of a natural-born charmer who can win anyone’s trust within seconds, only to break their hearts within hours.

He’s hot, and you’re drunk. You’ll let him break your heart a little.

Your conversation starts normally enough, with low stakes topics like the music and the drink selection in the bar. You’re in no hurry to tell this man anything personal or leave this spot with him, but you’re enjoying looking at him and hearing him enough that you don’t mind being a bit of entertainment.

He bumps your knee with his at one point, but you pull your own knee away. At first he seems to take the hint, and time passes without any more advances.

Soon, however, he grows more bold.

“Why don’t we go somewhere else, baby?” he asks as he lightly squeezes your thigh. “Somewhere more private?”

“No thanks,” you say as you jerk your leg away, though the motion doesn’t make him let go. “I’m fine talking here.”

“You know this is a sex club, don’t you?” he says. His smile and voice haven’t changed, but somehow he seems much slimier than he did five minutes ago, and the strong paw gripping your leg that seemed so enticing in your head feels suffocating in reality.

“I’m not here for that, I’m just hanging out with friends-” You try to leave the stool, but the man throws his arm around your shoulders and pulls you in.

“Come on, babe! What did you think I was after by chatting you up like this? You’re not gonna leave me hanging, are you?” He’s holding you closely enough that his hot breath is hitting your face, and the stench of his cologne is making you gag. “C’mon, baby, I’ll show you a good time. You won’t regret this-”

“She said no.” Husk had somehow snuck his way to your side without you noticing, and was now glaring daggers at your pursuer. “Back off.”

“Who are you, her grandpa?” the wolf laughs, refusing to unhand you. “Or just a nasty old man who likes ‘em young?”

Your captor’s laughter is quickly interrupted by a high-pitched howl. His face is now adorned with four jagged, bleeding lines.

“What the fuck, old man?” he yells as he unhands you. Just as quickly as you’re unhanded, you’re grabbed again, this time by Husk grabbing your waist and pulling you away.

“I knew I fucking hated this place,” he growls. “Where are Cherri and Angel?”

You have no idea, but your first guess has you looking toward the sex rooms in the back of the club.

“Jesus Christ… they’ll find their own way home. Come on, we’re going back to the hotel.”

You don’t appreciate being dragged out of the club like a misbehaving child, but as the alcohol clouds your thinking, you can’t quite formulate a protest.

Considering how pissed off your admirer must be right now, maybe it’s for the best that you don’t stay.

—

The walk back to the hotel is blurry; if Husk had anything to say to you besides pissed off obscenities muttered beneath his breath, you don’t remember it. Your next memory finds you laying on the couch in the lobby, your head aching from a combination of a hangover and the time spent laying on the couch’s arm with your neck at a weird angle.

“What time is it…?” you murmur as your eyes try to adjust.

“About noon,” answers Husk from the bar.

As you continue to look around the lobby, he appears to be the only one here. “Where is everyone?” you ask through a yawn.

“Angel and Cherri still aren’t back, but I’m sure they’re fine. Charlie and Vaggie left to give you some quiet. Alastor and Niffty…” Husk shrugs after their names, then falls silent.

You groan as you push yourself into a sitting position, one that has you facing Husk. He doesn’t appear to have anything to do, and is instead standing with his chin resting on his crossed arms atop the bar. An awkward silence falls between the two of you, giving you plenty of time to observe Husk’s body language, particularly the way his tail is lashing behind him while his ear gives the occasional twitch.

He is not in a good mood.

“Are you okay?” you ask. Your well-meaning question only seems to piss him off further; he answers not with a word, but with a growl. “Is this about last night?”

“Don’t worry about it,” he insists.

“I’m sorry I caused you trouble…”

“Wasn’t your fault.” His tail lashes even harder. “Just don’t worry about it, all right?”

You’re going to keep worrying about it until he stops looking so on edge.

“Thanks for getting me away from that guy last night,” you say, just in case you didn’t thank him in your drunken haze.

“Hey, it’s what a good bartender does. When you see someone starting shit with another patron, even if it’s not your bar, you take care of the problem. That fucker had no right to put his hands on you after you told him to cut it out.”

He may be gruff, but at least he has standards.

“Can’t believe Cherri and Angel left you alone in there… those two better not take you to anymore fucking sex clubs, you don’t need to be around shit like that…”

“I’m a grown adult,” you protest. “I didn’t want to sleep with that guy, but if I did want to get with someone at that club, that’s my business.”

Husk’s eyes widen for a moment, before he returns to his original dour expression. “Yeah… guess you’re right.”

“And what about you? You didn’t look interested in picking up anyone last night. Why’d you even come?”

“How do you know I wasn’t interested?” he shoots back. “Maybe I was interested in someone! Maybe I just… didn’t have the balls to go for it.” He stands up straight and shakes his head. “Look, can we drop this? Hang out in sex clubs if you want, I don’t fuckin’ care.”

He’s speaking with the tone of voice of someone who very much cares.

“I’m done with ‘em, though. You’re right, you’re an adult, you don’t need me hanging around like some fuckin’ guardian angel.” He pours a glass of clear liquid, and you expect him to down it himself, but he instead steps out from behind the bar still holding the full glass. “I overreacted last night. Shouldn’t have made it your fuckin’ problem.” He approaches the couch, takes a seat, and offers you the glass. “Here, one last favor. Drink this and I’ll get off your ass.”

You take the cup, wondering if for some ungodly reason he’s trying to get you to down straight vodka.

“Why are you looking at me like that? It’s water. That headache’s only gonna get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

You take a sip of the water, and after only a few swallows you’re already regaining a bit of your desire to live. “Thanks,” you say before taking another large gulp.

“No problem,” he responds. You expect him to return to the bar, but he remains next to you on the couch. His body language has gotten no less agitated. What is going on with him?

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you doting on Angel or Cherri like this,” you observe before finishing the glass.

“They’re used to it, and they’ve got each other,” he says as he takes the glass from you. “You want some more?”

You shake your head, and he remains seated with the glass.

“You, though… I don’t know, something about that guy just pissed me off,” he says. “Even before he started touching you I didn’t like him. Bartender’s intuition, maybe? I’m still not over the awful feeling he gave me.” He sighs heavily. “I just… hate the idea of seeing you get hurt in a place like that. I know Angel and Cherri can take care of themselves, but you’ve never seemed as wild as they do, so I wasn’t sure…”

“Is that why you were watching me the whole night?” you asked.

Husk’s body jolts. “Shit, you noticed?”

“I kept looking over there wondering if you’d ever move from that spot, and if you weren’t actively drinking you were staring at me,” you said. “You weren’t subtle.”

Husk groans as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry. I know you’re capable. I was just…”

“You weren’t there because you were interested in someone at all, were you?”

“I never said I wasn’t. I mean it when I said I just didn’t have the balls to say anything to ‘em. Instead, I just wondered… what I’d do if someone else asked ‘em. Knowing it’d be my own damn fault for not speaking up sooner. Trying to tell myself it wasn’t that big a deal if they went with someone else… until someone started flirting with ‘em, and touchin’ ‘em, and-” His body tenses as he growls, but relaxes after a moment. “Damn it, I haven’t had to do this in years...”

“Done what?”

“You know what I said about losing my ability to love years ago?” He turns his head and looks directly at you for the first time since he sat down. “...I think I’m remembering how to do it again.”

Things are starting to fall into place. “And the person who helped you remember is…?”

The slightest of smiles crosses his face. “Who do you think?”

You wouldn’t have guessed it before today, but it all seems so obvious in retrospect. He’d spent so many nights with you when he could have been in bed, just chatting with you or comforting you after a bad day. You’d really grown so fond of his smile, and Angel had told you before that he used to never smile.

But surely, you thought, he couldn’t have been smiling because of you…

“What am I even saying?” he asks as he turns away from you. “You died in the prime of your life, and down here you can have that prime forever. You could do so much better than a washed up old drunk.”

“You’re not washed up,” you assure him as you place your hand over his. “I think it’s great that you got to live such a full life! You have so many stories to tell, and so many talents… I bet there’s so much you haven’t told me yet.” You try to reassure him with a smile and a light squeeze to his hand. “So much you haven’t shown me, either. You talk a lot about when you were in a band, but I’ve never gotten to hear you play…”

“I haven’t touched an instrument in years,” he says. “I bet I don’t even remember how to play anymore.”

“Well, you don’t know if you don’t try, right?”

You don’t think you’re just saying that about instruments.

“It’s been such a long time… what if I screw up?”

You don’t think he’s just talking about instruments either.

“It can’t hurt to try. Maybe… maybe you’ll enjoy it even more than you remember.”

“Hmm…” He doesn’t seem fully at ease, but he hasn’t taken his hand back yet. “If I can get my hands on a saxophone, and I really haven’t forgotten how… sure. I’ll play for you.

…you just have to give me some time, okay? I’m not used to it anymore… especially with another person…”

“Take all the time you need,” you assure him.

He turns his hand around so he can hold yours back, and his smile seems to grow slightly. “Just gotta start slow… get used to things again…”

“You’ll be fine, I know you will,” you assure him. He seems content to leave the conversation there, but there’s one more thing you need to say. “Husk?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to that club. No point when I’m not interested in picking up dates anymore.”

He squeezes your hand. “Glad to hear it.”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #hazbin husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk got asked a thing #irk talks to strangers #irk huskposts

103 notes · View notes

bigfan-fanfic · 1 year

Text

Not a Hothead (Reader x Firelord Zuko)

Requested by anonymous for Hey hey! Can I request some Zuko (atla) headcanons (gn s/o, preferably).His usually quiet and peaceful s/o is having a bad day and needs to blow off steam, and then get cuddles from himUp to you if it takes place before or after he's Firelord Tysm in advance ♥️

Zuko tries not to complain so much about his duties as Firelord.

He's only just become an adult, but he's already facing the duties a much older ruler would have been trained for.

But he bears it all, because he has the responsibility, but also the privilege of helping form a better world.

And he has you by his side!

Although it's clear today that you are not in such a great mood.

He can practically sense the tension, noticing the way you pull your hands into the sleeves of your robes to conceal your clenched fists.

The gritting of your teeth

In between audiences with generals and representatives, he looks at you.

"Meet me in the private courtyard when we're free."

Your days aren't exactly stress-free, even as the consort of the Firelord. You need to help him with his work and, traditionally, keep the spiritual and physical wellbeing of the Royal Household all on the up-and-up.

Which means conducting traditional ceremonies with the Fire Sages, organizing the guard rotation for the palace, and working with officials in the Fire Nation capital to improve the lives of citizens.

And while you and Zuko definitely make time to spend with each other, restructuring an entire society that has spent the last one hundred years as the aggressors in a global war is certainly nowhere near a stress-free endeavor.

It's just a bad day today.

You're a little surprised at Zuko's words - he's not the greatest at being spontaneous.

But you still meet him in the private courtyard, and it's an interesting sign that he's shirtless.

You smirk. "So, am I going to be watching you train, like I did back when you were training Aang?"

Zuko suddenly looks surprised. "You watched that?"

You grin. "Oh, you think I fell for your sparkling personality?"

He laughs at the teasing before pointing to the training dummies he has set up. "Today, you're going to be training with me."

He blushes. "I just thought... well, nothing really helps me get rid of stress more than training, and then we could blow off steam, and..."

You chuckle. "And then we can take a bath and cuddle?"

He nods. "Sure. All night, if you want."

He takes you through some firebending martial art forms, which actually are surprisingly tough to learn, but feel really good when you start to get it right.

Zuko teaches you how to breathe properly, which really helps you feel so more energized and calm, even as you train.

Finally, after an hour or so of punches and breathing (which doesn't sound particularly fun, but Zuko actually does make it pretty fun to learn)

It helps to get out that aggression you had, and even more exciting is the promise of getting to take a bath and cuddle with him after.

After a beautiful luxurious bath with scented soaps and perfumed oils, you get to see Zuko in his loose robe and pants he wears for lounging around. He smiles as you lunge at him and tackle him onto a nest of cushions and bury your head in his chest to smell the clean scent of soap.

"I'm sorry I've been so out of it today." you whisper.

Zuko chuckles. "You do remember what I was like back during the war, right? Every day was a bad day. It's normal to feel stress, and... I want you to be able to count on me to help get you through it."

You give him a gentle kiss. "I love you, Zuko."

"I love you too."

#atla x male reader #zuko x male reader #zuko x reader #gender neutral reader #atla headcanons #headcanons

1K notes · View notes

ayyy-pee · 12 days

Text

𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 3: 𝑳𝒊𝒇𝒆 𝑮𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝑶𝒏

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Previous Chapter - Next Chapter - Series Masterlist

Pairing: Choso x f! Reader

Summary: Things take a turn.

Chapter Warnings: Angst...

WC: 6.6k

Choso Art By:NC9__

**While not all chapters contain adult content, the themes of this story are targeted towards adults, so minors DNI please.

No one warned you just how difficult university would be.

Your first semester of college has been kicking your ass in all honesty. Between your art projects, extracurriculars and trying to maintain some semblance of a social life, you’re completely burnt out. It was quite the adjustment from high school where teachers stayed on you about your school work and assignments. You'd learned very quickly that now, one was responsible for you but you.

At 19, it was a true test of your maturity. And you were failing that test quite miserably.

“I have one last project due and then I’ll finally be able to breathe. This professor has been up my ass all semester. I can’t wait for winter break and to be done with his class.” You set your bags down on your desk before you adjust your cell phone between your cheek and shoulder. “Sorry to rant. How are you all doing?”

A deep voice rumbles on the other end of the line with a laugh that makes your cheeks warm every time you hear it.

“Hey, it’s no problem. I’m just happy to hear from you. At least you’re letting me know what to realistically expect when I start school next year.” You hear shifting on the other side and you know he’s getting comfortable, probably in bed. “Yuji’s good. He’s also getting ready for winter break so he’ll be home most of the time. Eso’s been struggling with algebra, but Kechizu is surprisingly good at it. He’s been helping him study and–”

You listen closely, hanging on every word falling from your friend’s lips as he catches you up on his brother’s lives. It’s been a few months since you’ve spoken to Choso over the phone. While you’d keep in touch after the summer months until you were back on the beach, you’ve both been busy with your new normal. You haven’t seen Choso either, your first year of college being surprisingly more difficult than you’d expected so you opted for summer classes in hopes to maintain your GPA instead of taking your annual trip with your parents.

It was the first time since you were 9 that you hadn’t gone back to the beach. Your parents reluctantly returned without you your first summer in university, only after you had pushed them to enjoy a romantic vacation together for once. You remember the pictures you’d received from your mother the night they got into town. She was quick to spam you with pictures of your little pink haired friend who had grown even taller since the last time you’d seen him. She’d also sent a photo of all four of the brothers sitting at your dinner table, just as they always did on your first night in town since you were all kids.

It was reminiscent of all the summers you’d spent together growing up, except there was a noticeable gap where you’d usually be sitting, right between Choso and Yuji. As your eyes roamed over every detail, every way the boys had grown and changed, you couldn’t help the pang of disappointment you felt from missing out on this. You wanted to see them, hug them, be with them and enjoy your summer together. But you couldn’t. And it hurt more than you wanted to admit.

It hurt that you wouldn’t spend days and nights at the beach. You wouldn’t be taking Yuji all over the town with you and spoiling him rotten like you always have. You wouldn’t be climbing out of your bedroom window to sneak out to parties. You wouldn’t be working the summer at Panda’s, closing shop and sitting at the shoreline to watch the sunsets with Choso.

Choso…

Your eyes were locked on the tall figure in the photo and you found yourself pinching your thumb and index finger together, pressing them to your phone screen before expanding and zooming in on the picture. He was wearing his signature tiny smile that he reserved only for you and your family. Those same pigtails that have sat atop his head since he was 10 years old were still there, but that baby face was long gone. He was all chiseled jawline and sharp cheekbones now, even more handsome than when you saw him last summer, if possible, and your heart fluttered at the thought.

You stared at those dark eyes that had peered into yours that cool summer night last year as he leaned closer, those soft lips that pressed against your mouth as you exchanged your first kisses with each other. Those lips…they consumed your thoughts. Those lips that uttered those three words that still kept you up at night as they echoed through your mind:

“Just one more.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks, to the tips of your ears and you could hear the blood rushing through your body as the memories played clearly through your mind.

The slight tilt of Choso’s head as he deepened the kiss just barely. The way you gasped when his tongue gently ran along the seam of your lip. How he sighed, low and deep when he heard the little sounds you were making and all because of him.

Neither you nor Choso have spoken about your first kiss since it happened. He’d walked you home from the beach that night, hugged you tight one last time and then you spent the remainder of the night clutching at your chest, desperately willing your heart to calm down.

“You still there?” Choso’s voice pulls you from your trip down memory lane and you clear your throat to buy yourself time to gather your thoughts.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m just…I’m sad. I’m glad everyone’s doing well, but I almost feel like I missed a part of that because I didn’t go back to the beach for the summer.” You fall back onto your bed with a groan. “I miss you.”

The words fall from your lips easily, though your eyes widen when you realize what you’ve said. While you had never been one to sugarcoat your words with Choso, you couldn’t help but feel as though those simple words held more weight since the kiss.

Choso doesn’t seem to be having the same thoughts, because he quickly replies with an, “I miss you, too.”

And just like that, the conversation picks right back up.

It’s easy with Choso. It’s always easy. You sometimes forget just how easy it is.

- - - - - - - -

That breather you thought you’d be getting for winter break? Yeah, that didn’t happen.

Could it be because your first year of college hadn’t gone according to plan which resulted in you ending the year with a lower than desired grade point average? Who could say? That wasn’t important anyway. The important thing was that you’d opted to take Winter classes as well. Because your life wasn’t already hell Monday through Friday during the spring and fall semesters. Not to mention the summer classes you’d taken earlier in the year that had kept you from being able to tag along on your annual beach trip.

College was turning out to be more of a drag than anything. Luckily, you had made plenty of friends here that made the fact you were missing out on these things a lot more bearable.

It was during the Winter semester that you’d met Iori Utahime, a beautiful young woman with a curious scar across her face that somehow only added to her stunning looks. The two of you had quickly hit it off, both wanting to take your studies seriously and needing someone to hold the other accountable for reaching their goal. Utahime wanted to pursue a career in music and while your majors differed, you were still artists just the same.

Your similarities didn’t end there either. You shared core classes and unfortunately also shared struggling GPAs, which only brought you closer to each other. So when you found yourselves paired up for a project for one of your Winter courses, you soon found yourselves together more often than not.

And she’d introduced you to more friends as time went on.

There was Satoru. Satoru was goofy. That was the best way to describe him. He never took anything seriously, because everything was easy for him. Seriously. He was a genius who never needed to study because he just knew he’d ace his exams. Because of this, he was all about enjoying the college experience.

You could catch Satoru at every party, the center of attention everywhere he went. He was Mr. Popular. There was no one on campus who did not know who Satoru Gojo was. Almost every student on campus either wanted him or wanted to be him. And although you didn't share the same desires as them, you could see the appeal.

Satoru was tall. Way too tall. And had the strangest hair color you’d ever seen– stark white and so messy. He claimed it was natural, though you had your doubts. In a way, his hair reminded you oddly of Choso, if only because you could only think about how it was the total opposite of your friends. And his eyes…they also reminded you of Choso. Because they were as blue as the ocean you’d sat in front of many times with him. As blue as the waters that had brought you to Choso in the first place.

But that was where the similarities ended. Satoru was carefree, going with the flow whenever he could. He never planned for anything, he just let things happen. And he bugged Utahime in a way you couldn’t understand. It’s not really like he had to do much in the first place to get under her skin. All he needed to do was breathe within the same vicinity as Utahime and she was going ballistic. And Satoru seemed to love that.

There was Suguru, Satoru’s best friend. Or more? You could never quite tell with those two. He also reminded you of Choso in a way. Not physically, but general demeanor. Suguru was quieter, more observant than Satoru. He was thoughtful and kind, not abrasive at all; soft spoken in a way that made you feel as though he truly cared for you. And you liked that about him.

When out, you’d often find yourself next to Suguru. His presence was warm and comforting, almost familiar. You felt safe and protected with him and you knew that if Suguru was with you, you could just count on him to look out for you. You’d grown close fairly quickly and had established a friendship outside of your immediate friend group. You spent a lot of time together, but there was never any connection between you two aside from friendship.

And then there was the last of your group – Shoko. Clearly there was something going on between her and Utahime. But if you asked either of them, they'd quickly deny it. None of you were dumb, even with your low GPAs. The stolen glances, the touches they thought you all didn’t notice, the way one always ended up leaving exactly three minutes before the other decided to call it a night.

You found it very amusing, the way they thought none of you knew what was going on.

Their situation made you think more about Choso and how he –

Wait.

Why were you thinking about Choso so much? Why did everything suddenly remind you of him? You couldn’t think about any of your new friends without comparing them to Choso. Even after all this time.

After your last summer vacation, Choso had spent a good amount of time on your mind. But it’s been almost two years now. A second summer vacation was coming up and you were once again abandoning plans to go to the beach with your family and opting to take more summer courses to boost your GPA.

And it wasn’t as though you’d spoken to Choso much, either. Between your studies and his own life happenings, there wasn’t much time to chat. You carve out time when you can and appreciate the usual nightcap you both share every so often. But you're busy with your studies and Choso…well…

When your second year of college began, that was also when Choso had broken the sad news to you that college would be put on hold for him indefinitely.

“It’s my dad,” he’d told you. “Fucker just up and left and we haven’t heard from him since. Not that I should be surprised. I guess I'm only shocked it took him so long.”

You could hear the words come through gritted teeth, how he’d tried to hide the venom that dripped from each syllable. He was beyond pissed. You knew Choso better than you knew any other friend. There was no better way to get on his bad side than to mess with his beloved siblings.

But you knew more than anything that Choso was disappointed, crestfallen even.

For Choso, getting out of that small beach town and getting an education was his path to a better life for himself and for his brothers. His father taking that from him felt like the ultimate betrayal. What could you even say to lift his spirits at that point?

“I'm so sorry, Cho. Fuck, I'm sorry.”

It didn't feel like enough.

You checked in with him when you could. And he checked in with you when he could, but he was busy working. He’d accepted a full time position as a manager at Panda’s and had even told you a spot would be there for when you returned the next summer.

But it looked like someone else would have to fill the position this year.

You missed your vacations back to your second home. You missed the warmth of the sand beneath your feet and the smell of the salty ocean air as you all spent your days at the beach. You missed scooping ice cream at Panda’s and doodling the horizon in your sketchbook from your spot behind the counter when work was slow. You missed sneaking out to bonfires and having Choso toss you his sweater the moment you landed in his arms in nothing but the shorts and bikini tops he so hated.

You missed Choso.

That last night at the beach revealed to you for the first time that you may have feelings for your best friend that are more than just friendship. Freshly 18 year old you with almost no prior dating history hardly knew what those feelings meant. But almost 20 year old you, well it's been loud and clear for some time that this has slowly become more than some childish crush.

You like Choso.

The whispered call of your name pulls you from your spiraling thoughts and you look up to find Satoru’s bright eyes staring questioningly at you from across the table. You’d all met up in the library to study for your exam coming up at the end of the week. Of course he was checking in because you’d zoned out in the middle of your cram session to daydream about your long distance crush.

Except, that wasn’t why Satoru was checking in at all.

It’s only when Satoru waves his hand next to him that you see another tall figure standing beside the table. Your eyes roam up his form until they land on his face. And it surprises you when you feel your heart kickstart and begin racing.

Because you thought only Choso could get that reaction from you.

“This is Kaito,” Satoru introduces him and Kaito smiles, eyes locked on yours and you think you can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

Kaito is tall, slender, but not in the way Satoru is. If anything, you’d say he has the same body type as Suguru. He’s lean. You can tell from the way his clothes accentuate his form that he’s fit. And he’s got the most beautiful smile, teeth so brilliantly white that you’re nervous to see how brightly they shine in the sun. Gorgeous emerald green eyes sit beneath long black lashes and wow, he is really fucking good looking.

He politely introduces himself, running his hand through a messy black wolfcut as he takes the seat right beside you after Suguru heads to his next class.

You all resume studying shortly after Satoru’s friend’s arrival. Kaito seems to fit right in, quickly becoming friendly with the rest of the group and you. But you soon notice that Kaito has taken quite a liking to you.

Again, 20 year old you is not as clueless as you used to be and the attention he focuses on you is giving you an insane amount of butterflies.

You catch his little glimpses at you from the corner of your eye, the way he’s quick to lean over and help you resolve an equation you were stuck on, the way he never breaks eye contact with you when you’re speaking with him. Like every word that leaves your mouth is the most important thing he’s ever heard.

“So yeah, that’s why hot cheetos are like the best chip there are.” You finish your rant, beaming because you finally got to tell someone your true feelings about this.

“Absolutely…fascinating…” Utahime comments sarcastically. She’d stopped listening to your rambling ages ago, nose buried in her textbook.

Shoko and Satoru had left to get refreshments so unfortunately for them, they'd missed the entire thing.

But Kaito, you’ve got his full attention. “No, really. It’s truly fascinating. I’d love to hear more.”

His grin has your tummy squeezing, that sweet tickle returning and you find yourself smiling right back despite your little epiphany about your feelings regarding your childhood friend just moments before Kaito showed up.

“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

A loud slurping can be heard from across the table, effectively popping the little bubble that you and Kaito had suddenly found yourselves in. On the other side of the table sits Satoru, back from his trip to the cafe, guzzling a sweet juice while he watches you and Kaito talk over the rim of his glasses. Next to him, Utahime’s face is twisted into a look of pure hatred and disgust. Satoru ignores it.

“Y’all should go out,” Satoru suggests casually, like he’s talking about something as unimportant as the weather. “Talk about animal crackers or whatever the hell.”

Shoko snorts as she discreetly slides a snack over to Utahime while no one is looking. Except everyone sees it anyway because these two are so fucking obvious.

“Yeah, go out,” Shoko also chimes in. “Think you two would make a great couple.”

Your face ignites with heat, the sudden idea making you want to kick Satoru and Shoko under the table.

But Kaito smirks, eyes holding your gaze like they have been this entire time and he says, “I’d like that. Can I?”

You glance at Utahime who stares at you in surprise.

“Um…can you what?” You question, trying to buy yourself time to think.

“Can I take you out? Like, on a date.” His response is quick. It’s so easy for him. He just spits it out and says what he wants. And you’re sitting here still freaking out just over Satoru’s suggestion.

“I…”

“If I bring hot cheetos with me, would that make it more tempting?” He’s so charming, and cute, and sweet and–

Ugh, what reason do you have to say no to him?

The sudden vision of pigtails flashes through your mind. And suddenly, the excitement you were feeling seems to fall away. And Kaito seems to sense it, because his grin falters a little, becoming just a small smile on his lips and he simply nods and gives you a “sure” when you ask him, “Can I get back to you?”

- - - - - - - -

“I met someone today,” you speak quietly into the phone, lying in bed after leaving your study date with your friends. You’re nervous. Probably because you’re testing the waters here. Probably because your walk back to your dorm after Kaito had asked you out was eye opening.

Can you really open yourself to date someone else seriously when your thoughts are plagued by another man? Can you open yourself to the possibility of being with someone else when the person you want to be with is hundreds of miles away, in some little beach town?

Because that's what you've come to realize. You want to be with Choso.

You just need to know if he feels the same way you do. You have an idea of how Choso feels about you based on the last time you’d seen each other. But that doesn’t make you feel any less like digging a hole in the ground and burying yourself in embarrassment thinking about bringing any of this up.

“Oh yeah? Another new friend?” Choso asks distantly. He’s currently at Panda’s closing shop, so he’s got you on speaker while he completes his nightly tasks. You were happy (maybe too happy) when he'd answered your call tonight.

“Sort of a friend, sure…He’s nice…”

You’re hoping he’ll take the hint quickly here.

But when Choso just gives you an absentminded “that’s cool”, you know you’ve only got half of his attention. And you want all of it.

“Yeah. His name is Kaito. Really nice guy.” And it’s true. You think Kaito is nice, but you think Choso is nicer. That's not to say you're not into Kaito either. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t interested in him. But you’d also be lying if you said you weren’t interested in Choso as well. Maybe more than you are Kaito. Because for you, you’re pretty sure it will always be Choso. Even though you've never had anyone else, you know you don't need to. It's Choso for you.

That is why your thoughts have been consumed with him. This revelation has been so freeing.

You just need to know if he feels the same.

“Glad you’re meeting new people.”

He’s still distracted, the sounds of him pushing the chairs around the store’s lobby echoing through the phone. You didn’t want to have to show your hand so quickly, but you’re tired from a long day of studying and tired from years of beating around the bush. It’s been over a decade of your feelings slowly building for Choso and now your heart is ready to burst. You have no choice but to push this conversation along a little faster.

“Yeah, his name is Kaito. He asked me out on a date actually.”

And finally, you get an actual reaction from Choso. Not a grunt, not a hum in reply or some offhand comment. Instead, you hear him shuffling around, then the sound of tapping on his phone, likely taking you off of the speaker. His voice comes through, crisp and clear now.

“Sorry,” he apologizes through quick breaths. “What was that?”

“I said Kaito asked me out on a date…this weekend.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yep,” you reply cheerily, hopefully driving the knife a little deeper. Immature, sure, but at this point you’d do anything to get Choso a little closer to saying whether or not he has any feelings for you, if he wants you in the same way you want him. “Probably dinner at his place. Maybe a movie. Not sure yet.”

Choso hums quietly. “And you like this guy…that you just met…today…Kaito…” He says his name like he’s testing it on his tongue.

“He’s really nice.”

“As you’ve said.”

You’re about taken aback by the sudden bite in Choso’s tone, but you ignore his snarkiness. “I don't know how I feel about him yet.”

“Clearly you like him enough to be telling me about him.”

More bite behind his words. Still, you push forward. “I mean, is that bad?” You adjust the phone, moving it to your other ear as you get comfortable beneath your blankets. “You’re my friend, right?”

“Sure, but we don’t talk about stuff like this.”

And he had a point. Even during your summers entertaining Mahito, Choso never wanted to hear about any conversations you had with him. And it’s not like you had that many interactions with him anyway since Choso seemed to always be there whenever the silver haired boy was near you. And you had friends back home to talk about your school girl crushes that never resulted in anything with.

Aside from your first encounter with Mahito, Choso had also never discussed whether or not you were ever interested in anyone romantically and you had never thought to ask him either. Granted, you only saw each other over the summers and during the year, school kept you both so busy, you couldn’t worry about dating. Your parents were never against it and you'd gone to a movie or two with people who had asked you out, but it was never serious. You didn't care enough to commit to anyone, too focused on trying to get into a good school.

In the summers, the last thing on your mind was asking Choso if he had feelings for anyone else. Most of the time he was with you, anyway. And when he wasn't, he was with his brothers.

You'd never given thought to Choso…desiring anyone.

Suddenly, the thought of Choso with someone else makes your stomach churn, has your head spinning. Choso in someone else’s arms, hugging someone else, kissing someone else’s lips.

Oh, it has your blood boiling in a way you’ve never experienced before and you try not to sound too petulant when you finally mutter, “Yeah, but I want to talk to you about it now.”

“But why?” He sounds thoroughly confused. You try not to sigh into the receiver.

“Choso…we’ve literally kissed before, but talking about crushes is where you draw the line?”

It’s the first time either of you have ever mentioned the kiss, now a memory that continues to plague your thoughts and your dreams.

“Even weirder reason to talk to me about this,” you hear him mumble on the other end.

“How? We’re adults! We can talk about things like that. Besides…” you fiddle with your blanket, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth nervously. “It’s really not weird at all…unless the kiss meant something…more to you?”

You’re met with silence. A long stretch of silence that has you fidgeting anxiously. You almost want to laugh, say “I’m just kidding!” and hang up. But then Choso surprises you. He speaks so quietly, you almost don’t hear it over the thundering of your own heart.

“Did it mean something to you?”

Of course it did. What a stupid question. That silly little first kiss and those lips of Choso’s have been eating away at your brain for almost two years. Saying it meant something to you felt like the understatement of the century. You want to scream out loud that that kiss meant everything to you and you’re sorry it took you so long to stop being an idiot and realize that yes, the kiss was more than that. It opened the door for you to realize exactly how you felt about Choso.

But even so, you still answer with a very quiet “yes”.

And because it’s Choso, who has never lied to you a day in his life, he responds without hesitation. “Me too.”

Finally! The confirmation you were waiting for! The kiss meant something to Choso, too. You weren’t crazy!

“I’ve been thinking about it since it happened. A lot,” Choso confesses.

“Me too. Probably way too much.”

Choso chuckles, which makes you laugh in turn. It’s the answer you wanted to hear from him, but now that that’s out there and your heart is calming down just a bit, it gives your brain enough time to catch up. And now, you’re a little confused.

“Wait. Why’d you tell me I should go out with Kaito?” You laugh again; half from nerves, half from feeling so silly that you used the guy as bait instead of just outright asking Choso how he felt.

The silence has suddenly returned and any semblance of humor seconds ago has now vanished. Now, you feel nervous again. Like your gut is telling you to end this call immediately. This is the calm before the storm and that knife you were twisting into Choso’s back to try and urge an honest response from him soon finds its way into yours when Choso says, “Because you should.”

The knife twists.

“You like him, don’t you? Go on a date with him.”

“Ha ha.” It’s all you can think to say, because it’s keeping the pain at bay for just a second longer. Only a second longer.

“I’m being serious.”

Another twist. And the sting begins to settle in.

“Choso…”

He says your name back to you. “Do you like him?”

“I like you.” It’s the first time you’ve openly admitted it to him. A few seconds pass by with no response, so you keep talking, if only to fill the silence. “Obviously you feel the same way or that kiss wouldn’t be on your mind two years later, right?”

Choso sighs softly. How can he be so calm and collected when you’re sitting here just now realizing that you’re shaking, nearly vibrating out of your skin.

“I like you, too,” he finally admits. “Have for a long time. Couldn’t tell you when it started, but it’s been for as long as I can remember. So yeah, I feel the same.”

“Okay…” You should feel calmer now, confident in the fact that your feelings for each other are out in the open. But that sharp sting of rejection is slowly starting to build, the knife in your back ready to bury itself deeper. “But?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you. There’s a but coming…isn’t there?”

Another bout of silence and you’re starting to lose your mind having to sit through it. This is not how you expected this conversation to go. And you blame yourself for the way it feels like your heart is going to beat straight through your ribcage and fall flat to the floor.

“But I can’t do anything about these…feelings.” He spits the last word out like it’s bitter. “There’s no future where we could ever be together.”

The knife sinks in.

“Why not?”

“Because–”

“And don’t give me some bullshit reason, either.” You cut him off. Because you don’t want excuses. You want honesty, like Choso has always given you.

“What’s a bullshit reason to you?” His tone is snippy again.

What is a bullshit reason? You don’t know. All you know is that you have feelings for this man who once pulled you from certain death over a decade ago. And he has feelings for you, too! He just told you so! You want to be with him, but he doesn’t seem to want to be with you even if he hasn’t said so yet.

Ironically, all this makes you feel like you’re drowning all over again, struggling to pull your head above the water but going nowhere. It's Choso holding you under instead of pulling you out this time.

“...I don’t know,” you finally answer.

“I do,” Choso responds tersely. “I can give you a reason. Hell, I can give you two, three, maybe even four reasons why we can’t be together.”

“Cho–”

“But I don’t need all of those reasons. I only need one – I’m no good for you.”

You roll your eyes. “Choso, you’ve been my best friend practically my whole life. I cannot think of a single person better for me than you.”

He sighs your name, calling for your attention, but you keep going. “And you know me better than anyone else. I know you better than anyone else–”

Choso says your name again, a little harsher this time. You keep on.

“Besides, you said yourself how that kiss stays on your mind. It’s always on my mind too and we can–”

“Stop!” Choso’s harsh voice cuts through your droning. This time, you can’t ignore the snippiness. Never, in all the time that you’ve known Choso, has he raised his voice at you. At least, not in anger or annoyance. Maybe when you were kids, because kids yell. Kids are loud and bossy and Choso was both of those things as a kid. He was always yelling. But he had never yelled at you the way he just had.

You’re so shocked, your mind so suddenly frazzled, that you can’t bring yourself to respond.

“Why are you insisting on this?” Choso sighs, trying to calm himself, but his voice is still coming out a lot rougher than it ever has in your direction. And it’s hurting you in ways you hadn’t known possible, your little heart beginning to crack within your chest.

“I...I just thought –”

“Thought what, exactly?” Choso asks, a dry chuckle following. “Thought that we’d confess that we have feelings for each other and then we-we’d talk about our futures, make plans to be together forever and ever and then sail off into the sunset?”

“I mean–”

“No.”

That’s all he says.

“No?” You’ll need more than that.

“No. There will be no talking about futures together, making plans, sailing off into the sunset…none of it.”

Those little cracks in your heart start to spread, slowly chipping away. That sharp knife you were twisting into Choso’s back is now lodged deep into your own and it’s fucking killing you slowly.

“I don’t–” Your voice is quivering now and you have to take a deep inhale to steady yourself. “I don’t understand. If I have feelings for you, and you have feelings for me…you said the kiss meant more to you!”

“And I meant that.”

“Then why?! Why are you doing this? Is this because of Kaito?”

“Yes!”

“ I–I barely know him! I only brought him up being childish. I was hoping you would realize you had feelings for me. That’s it! I want to be with you!”

“But you should be with someone like him.” Choso’s voice is quiet now, the harshness of it finally gone. “It wouldn't have mattered if it was Kaito or Utahime or whats the other guy? Suguru? I can’t give you what he– what anyone who isn’t me can.”

Now you’re lost. “What?”

“I can’t be what you need me to be. I can’t be the boyfriend you need, the support you’d need if I were to become your boyfriend…”

It’s embarrassing how quickly you feel the tears brimming along your waterline. How your heart shatters into pieces as he lists off the reasons he isn’t good enough for you.

“Look at my fucked up life. No mother, a deadbeat piece of shit for a father, three brothers that I’m solely responsible for and have been for practically my entire life…” He says your name, like a plea, begging for you to listen to him. Like you should take his word for it and simply accept it.

But you won’t accept it.

“I know all of that, Choso. I know you and what you’ve been through – what you’re going through – better than anyone else. And I still want you.”

Now you say his name like a plea, begging for him to hear you and your words. You don’t care about his struggles, about how he’s had to keep his family together his entire life, forced to grow up too quickly and become the glue that holds everything together. You were there for all of that up until recently. And even through it all, you always found your way back to Choso. That won’t change now.

The quiet drags on, just dead air hanging between you two and when he finally speaks, he surprises you. “And I want you, too.” He tells you, lifting your spirits ever so slightly.

Then just as quickly, he breaks you. Again.

“But I’m doing you a favor, so please. Just go date whoever you want, whoever’s good to you.”

“Choso–” Your voice breaks, your lip trembling as you try to fight the sob threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Please.” You hear the way Choso’s voice cracks in a similar manner. Like he has a sob to match your own trying to escape as well. “You…God, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. Don’t waste it on someone like me. You have everything going for you. I have nothing going for me. Just some loser working a deadend job in the same deadend town I’ve always been in and will probably always be in. And I refuse to drag you down with me. I’m looking out for you…Like I’ve always tried to do.”

Your protector.

Even when you don’t want him to be. Even when you wish he wouldn’t be. Even when it hurts you.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be with you,” Choso tells you. “I do. Fuck, believe me when I say that. I would love nothing more than that because I've wanted it for so long…but you deserve so much more than this.”

“You are not a loser, Choso. Just…stop. I think we can–”

“I have to go,” He interrupts. “Need to finish this stuff up and head home. Yuuji has a project due tomorrow that I need to help with.” He’s quiet again, but you can just make out the sound of him sniffling, choking down that same sob before he says, “I’ll talk to you later.”

Choso ends the call abruptly, before you can even say goodbye, and the shakiness of his voice stays with you for the rest of the night. Even as you shower, numb to the excruciating heat of the water. As you brush your teeth and crawl beneath your sheets where you finally allow your heart to fully crumple. Even then, you hear the clear tremble of Choso’s words.

It hurts. This is a pain you don’t have any experience with. You don't know what to do with it. This is a pain you’d hoped you would never have to feel. And you never expected your best friend to be the one to cause it.

But you’re hopeful that you two will be able to patch things up. That you two will be able to go back to normal, even if things are awkward for a bit. Because you don’t want to lose Choso. He’s your very best friend, long distance or not. He means way too much to you for your crush to get in the way. You just hope you haven’t ruined things between you two.

Besides, he did say he would talk to you later. You take solace in that, finally letting sleep take over even as your tears still fall.

If only you’d have known that when you opened your eyes the next morning and opened your phone to send an apology text to Choso, that your text would fail to go through.

If only you’d known that you would go to check Choso’s social media pages only to see blank screens because he’d apparently blocked you. You'd search through every account he has on every social media platform and find yourself no longer able to see any of his information.

“I refuse to drag you down with me.” Those words play on a loop in your mind.

He really meant it.

92 notes · View notes