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#had this in my drafts for a while and never answered it.
magnusbae · 6 hours
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Hi! What about "Can you stay with me?" (and if you'd like it my bonus prompt is "drunk") 💗
The initial draft was written while I was quite literally fainting late at night & the second one fully rewritten while I am dazed and out of it. I would say that I was method writing Obi-Wan who is indeed very much drunk in this one, dearest anon. Thank you for the prompt~ 😊💖
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Obikin || 4,004w || Drunk Obi-Wan is agonized by the prospect of his freshly knighted Padawan leaving him behind— and more. 😌 Some flavors of gentle lime in this drink, very light, very sweet. 🍋💖
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"Can you stay with me?"
Obi-Wan Kenobi sounds properly pathetic and he knows it. Grasping at Anakin’s Tabards as he is, mind swirling in hazy circles around the notion he was doing his very best to avoid thinking about for the past few months. It is not long now that Anakin would look at his Master and see him for what he really was. Perhaps even today. Inebriated as he is, he makes for a good serving of disillusionment. All Anakin needs to do is look, and see, and then…
It seems inevitable—his Padawan will leave.
Former Padawan. Anakin is no longer his Padawan, and that is the heart of it, isn’t it? The severed braid was the firs step. Them having each a battalion of their own, stationed light years away from each other with only the occasional joint mission, a second. The third and final step would be for Anakin to finally open his eyes and look, and see.
It won’t be hard to unveil the carefully crafted Jedi Master facade Obi-Wan had cultivated for the past decade. No, it won’t be hard at all. If Anakin were to stop glorifying him, stop shaping him to be what ever form of idol he had needed for while growing up, if only he were to take an unbiased look at him…
There will no longer be, Kenobi and Skywalker.
For the naked truth was, Anakin had outgrown him, had become more powerful and capable than his Master. There’s little left that Obi-Wan could still offer, still teach. He should be proud. The only one still refusing to see it, is Anakin himself. Once that revelation comes to pass however, it will be complete. A true break, as befitting the Jedi way. Obi-Wan finds no peace in the thought, no completion nor satisfaction in the successful completion of his Padawan’s training—a symbol of his own Mastery.
Not when it means losing him. Not then.
Given his state of drunkenness, words slurred and feet unsteady, he thinks that it’s worth putting to question whatever or not he was a good Jedi at all, least of all a Master. Try as he might, he finds it hard to ponder further. His choice to look inward is as always an avoidance, an escape. An easy detour from looking outward, from looking at Anakin. Anakin who’s eyes he can feel like a physical touch, boring into his very soul.
Obi-Wan’s avoidance is nearly as strong as Anakin’s natural magnetism. One is counseling him to avoid looking, save himself the pain of witnessing the exact moment in which the realization dawns upon the boy. The second, stronger still, demands his undivided attention on him, demands him to look. Demands him. 
Obi-Wan looks up, he meets those eyes, his demise.
Anakin’s eyes widen and he blinks, endless blue clearing as if coming out of some sort of shock.
“Can I—” Anakin splutters “—Obi-Wan, even if the council explicitly ordered me to go save the entire karkin universe just now, I wouldn’t be leaving your side— stars you’ve any idea what you look like right now?
Obi-Wan’s tongue is heavy but he parts his lips to answer, something clever to be sure, he always finds something to say.
“No, never mind.” Anakin cuts in before he could speak. There’s such decisiveness in his tone, such confidence. His former Padawan stands tall, his arms are strong and sure as he handles Obi-Wan closer, making him lean more of his weight against his chest. It’s broad and firm. Obi-Wan should not be noticing those things, should not be aware of those things. It is a further evidence that his Padawan is well and truly grown. Further evidence of his own failing as a Jedi, as a Master, as a…man. Obi-Wan should not be inhaling and smelling home. Should not be leaning closer, itching all over for more, more.
“You’re so wasted that I am surprised you’ve even recognized me at all.” Anakin continues talking, as if the universe is not shifting beneath Obi-Wan’s feet as it is him who finally looks with his gaze unbiased. “The drunken messages though, those you will be seeing tomorrow” there’s dark mirth in that dear voice. “I bet you wanted to send them to— someone else.” Anakin glances at him, eyes narrowed.
Obi-Wan’s offenses at Anakin’s assumption he could ever not recognize him dies over under his gaze, dark and rich, his eyes are captivating. Before Anakin, he did not know that a blue can hold such multitudes. Both the clear morning sky, and the moon lit sky. Beautiful. They loosens his tongue as well as any truth serum would. That or the bottle he had finished on his own finally soaked through.
“I will always—”  His voice comes out so thick that he coughs, starting Anakin from his dark contemplations, whichever those might be. His eyebrows furrow and he quickly snatches a cup of something clear off of a passing robo-waitress’s tray. Irritated with the distraction, Obi-Wan accepts it and drinks if only to make way for the words to follow. He will not let it go. Not now that he’d started. “I will always recognize you, Padawan Mine, drugged, beaten, or otherwise preoccupied— I will always—” “Drugged?!” Anakin cuts in again, arms tightening around Obi-Wan and strangling the annoyed huff at being cut again “You did not mention anything about being drugged, what the kark’ Obi-Wan?!”
Obi-Wan’s mouth is dry, similar to how being drugged would feel. His mind swims and all he sees is Anakin. There’s warmth in his chest, there’s a burn in his gut, there’s a tug in his— 
“It’s hard to tell” he says sheepishly, embarrassed, eyes straying away from Anakin’s strong jaw and up, up to the lights on the ceiling. He should not be thinking of how Anakin’s proximity is enough to replicate a strong drug. How out of orbit he feels around him as of late. “They all start the same, so…” 
Anakin is hardly listening. Instead he is surveying the club with a look of fury that is bordering on homicidal, freeing one hand to rest it on his lightsaber. There’s the distinct feeling of Anakin stretching his force signature out, covering the room, no doubt attempting to locate anyone within their proximity who might have dared drug his former Master. Oh if only he knew that he was the culprit all along. 
Obi-Wan snorts, finding an odd sense of humor in it.
Anakin’s gaze darts back to him, sharp and accusing. He looks so handsome under the colorful, dim lights. He looks so… 
“Ah-nakin.” Obi-Wan sighs out and shuts his eyes lest his spinning head forces him to sober up in the most un-jedi manner.  
“Stay with me,” the request comes so easy, what was it that he was so afraid of? It’s so easy, too easy. Frighteningly so, to reach and touch Anakin’s forearm. There’s skin beneath his touch, warm and human, tense muscles beneath. “Ah” Obi-Wan sighs out in realization. Anakin had rolled the sleeves, so very unofficial for a Jedi and yet so very Anakin of him.
Master Windu would have hated it. It wouldn’t surprise Obi-Wan if this was exact reason why Anakin did it to begin with, after all, he was most adept to handling heat and was not bothered by it even while all else were. Obi-Wan really should have reprimanded the boy more often, should have stopped Anakin from executing all those harmless little vendettas of his while growing up.
If only he did not find them to be so endearing, so amusing. If only he was a better Master, a proper Master. He would have. 
His brain is foggy and he had already forgotten what was it it that he had hoped to achieve by touching Anakin, only that his fingers are circling his wrist and touching the spot at which he can feel his life pulsing. What a terrible habit it is, being intoxicated while negotiating. You should only ever drink enough to appear drunk, never more. How is he to get what he wants, when he has no ideas what it was? 
Obi-Wan’s eyelids are heavy when he tries to blink them open and focus on Anakin. There’s the signature frown, so familiar Obi-Wan can’t help but smile. Anakin is chewing his lips, a compulsion he had never managed to rid himself of. He looks torn between the need to locate and deal with the ‘enemy’, and…. Obi-Wan. 
The way Anakin looks, that should not be reminiscent of the targets Obi-Wan opts for charm as the main form of negotiation with. Should not stir the excitement of a hunt, of a game to be won. Obi-Wan should not use his looks to achieve his goals, he should not use them to get what he wants, he should be a better man than that.
Obi-wan is not a better man. 
Licking his own dry lips, he let’s go off of Anakin’s wrist and reaches for Anakin’s cheeks. There’s a tremble in the touch, his, Anakin’s? He is not certain. 
“Dear One, you can chase your enemies tomorrow.” He speaks in a hushed murmur, he hopes he sounds soft and alluring “Tonight, will you guard this drunk Master of yours?” he looks up, through his lashes, breathing shallowly, feeling hot, hot, hot all over. 
Anakin let’s go off of the lightsaber. It’s an answer enough to what he had picked. It still is deeply gratifying to feel the boy’s hand cover his own, guide it until he wraps his arm around Anakin’s shoulders. It’s an awkward angle, with Anakin being taller than he— he cares very little for it when Anakin wraps an arm around his waist. 
“Let’s go.” He is tight lipped and determined, guiding Obi-Wan out and into a speeder that is parked not far off. If Obi-Wan was even slightly more aware, he’d realize just how much attention the pair of them had draw, how all of the eyes had followed them out. Sometimes he forgets, how famous they had become during this accursed war. Sometimes, he is glad to not remember. 
Anakin is terribly efficient at getting them to the Temple. One blink of an eye they’re flying through the busy highways of Coruscant, the next he is tossed unceremoniously onto a bed that feels and smells familiar. His bed.
They’re in his quarters. Their quarters until very recently. He is breathing harder and he does not dare to think of why. If he does not think, it does not exist. He is self aware enough only to feel how disheveled his robes feel on his body, how messy his hair is, how hot his skin feels all over. He is a mess. 
“Dear one?” he questions. He refuses to acknowledge how his own tone drops, refuses to admit he is rolling his vowels in a way he knows thickens his accent in the most attractive of ways. He doesn’t know why he is flirting with Anakin Skywalker when the boy is barely out of his knighthood and is Anakin. His Anakin, his Anakin on whom he just looked in a way he really should not be looking at, through his eyelashes, with a heavy, wanting gaze. 
The redness of Anakin’s cheeks is evidence enough that he hears and understands the situation well enough. That he is very much aware of what his Master is doing. That he is… perhaps affected. 
Obi-Wan swallows, trying to push himself up to his elbows. He needs to sober up, he must tell him that he is merely jesting, that it is all a little tease, a little laugh, nothing more, just….
Anakin cuts him to it. Before he can excuse, or joke, or explain.
“Not while you’re drunk.” Anakin bites, sounding frustrated, lips swollen red from biting. Obi-Wan startles, surprised. 
What did Anakin just say? Imply?
Blatantly threw straight into his face, more like. 
Yes, but not while he is drunk.
Absurdly, a swell of pride fills his chest to the brim. Anakin’s manners and chivalry surprises him, pleases him. He had raised him well after all, he did not fail him, at least not in this.
His pleasure must bleed into the Force as Anakin regards him with a dark, baffled look. It’s so dark, most would find it intimidating, but for Obi-Wan it’s… dear. He can see the gentleness in that look, the care. There’s warmth in the force when Anakin insist on tucking him in, fingers methodical in the short, careful gestures. Tucking him in as if he was a child. Him, his Master. Former. 
Obi-Wan was tucked in only once in his lifetime, at least as far as he can remember. His first night in the Jedi Temple. So tense he was, so out of his depth, that the he was taken pity of, tucked in with a quiet promise of everything making sense soon. It helped.
It had never happen again. 
“Ahnakin.” he tries to protest, tries to pull a face of offended indigence. It’s hard to do when he is practically shining within the force. A single look from his apprentice is enough to quiet him down. 
“Master.” Anakin replies, and there’s a little eyeroll there. His cheeks are still flushed but he seems as determined as Obi-Wan to not address the Bantha in the room. “You really should be more careful” he lectures him in a way Obi-Wan can distinctly remember doing a few years back, when Anakin had gotten drunk for the first time. 
He leaves then, without a word. Obi-Wan’s throat closes and there’s a pang of pain in his heart. No this. He remembers now. Him. Leaving. That was the whole reason, that was why—
“Master?” Anakin sounds concerned, a glass of water and a container of what looks to be painkillers in his hands. “Are you sick?” a few strides and he is by Obi-Wan’s bed again, placing he glass and container at the bedside table. He looks well and truly worried. 
Unthinking, Obi-Wan sits up. So sudden that he does feel sick from the motion. He ignores it. He reaches for Anakin’s face with both hands, cupping his cheeks with a grip that is too strong, too desperate. A Jedi should not hold onto things with such fervor. 
All it takes for him to lean is to Anakin, is to stop resisting if only for a moment. Anakin’s pull was always there, stronger and stronger until it had become a daily challenge to ignore it, to pretend he does not feel it. All it takes is to stop resisting and his lips find Anakin’s, pressing against that plush softness, inhaling his exhale and finally, finally feeling anchored, inside the orbit he was always meant to circle.
He tilts his chin, leans in, knowing his beard will scratch pleasantly against the smooth jaw, kisses in deeper—
“Mahster—!” Anakin gasps into the kiss, a pang of shock and uncertainty clouding the force around them, sipping through the open nerves of their broken bond.  He does not want to take advantage of his Master, does not want him to end up hating him, does not want him to wake up and be disgusted, appalled— but he wants, he wants so badly. 
“Oh, Anakin.” Obi-Wan breathes out, unsure if it’s endearment of relief that fills him up with warmth, with lightness. One thing he is certain of, no one had ever been, or will be, as sweet, as kind, as dear as Anakin is to him. “I could never hate him.” There’s a drunken lisp to his voice, he needs a moment to correct himself. “You.” He manages, meeting Anakin’s eyes and not blinking, not wanting to miss a single moment. Wanting to see the exact moment in which Anakin realizes he is serious, that he is the most honest he’s been in years. 
Anakin seems to be realizing it too, his eyes widening and cheeks coloring a deeper red than before, he bites his lip.
“I might be…” Obi-Wan’s gaze drops to Anakin’s lips and he thinks about… “intoxicated…” he forces himself to look up, away from temptation, away from sin. “Drugged, possibly.” He is still not fully certain if he is, or it truly is just Anakin with a touch of alcohol. “But I am very much aware that…” he smiles before completing the sentence, it widens so much further with the words to come “…my Padawan simply cannot take advantage of his Master…” there’s really no need to be using this many terms of belonging, especially when they are outdated and irrelevant, but he just cannot… “On the contrary, I am the one who should be deeply ashamed for…mnnn-” 
Anakin’s lips quiet him up, he was never a patient listener, never could hear his Master finish a thought. This is the most effective he had ever been at cutting Obi-Wan’s line of thought, by far. He kisses him in a way Obi-Wan would have never guessed him capable of— it’s soft, sweet, patient. A tender thing, careful, loving. Obi-Wan gasps. Thinking, dazedly of how Anakin will grow to be an amazing lover, so attentive, a beast holding back his fangs in favor of gentle lips… 
The thought sets a burning coil of arousal deep in Obi-Wan’s gut.
Not good. Beyond not good. He should…. 
The thought is present and yet he licks at Anakin’s lips, asking for permission. He is granted one without resistance, without hesitance. Anakin’s lips part and he can taste him and oh, oh. Obi-Wan groans, muscles tensing as he shifts to sit straighter, moving a hand to Anakin’s nape and pulling him closer.
He nearly chokes when the boy sucks on his tongue, arousal shocking him into near soberness. 
“Anakin…” he knows, there’s not enough alcohol in the universe to convince him that this is not going too far, he knows and yet… 
He kisses Anakin again, a little hungrier, a little more wanting.
He must stop this madness. To think that he had started it, to think that he had taken advantage of his trusting, sweet—
“No, Master.” Anakin answers, and Obi-Wan wonders just how much of his shields is truly left if his thoughts can be read so easily, so plainly. “You’ve asked me to stay, and I will stay.” That assuredness is back, firm and leaving no space for argument. This is the same man who leads men on a battlefield, who commands, who leads. Obi-Wan finds it impossibly, undeniably, devastatingly attractive.
“You will sleep.” Anakin decides then, tearing his eyes away from Obi-Wan long enough to gesture at the lights, turning them off with the force. “And I will stay with you.” His eyes land back to Obi-Wan, dark mirth dancing in what Obi-Wan can still see of him. “To keep you safe, Master.” He is teasing him, the little devil.
“How will it even…” Obi-Wan doesn’t want to mention how narrow the bed really is, Anakin would know, with his constant complaints about how leg room and… 
“Don’t worry about that.” Anakin answers, confidence so cocky, so boyish that Obi-Wan huffs a surprised laughter, breaking into giggling when Anakin practically falls on top of him. They struggle like that, laughter mixing, limbs tangling, hair in a mouth and fingers against sides— Anakin captures him then, they’re on their sides, Anakin’s back is firm as he pulls Obi-Wan all the way to himself, forming….
“Absolutely not!” Obi-Wan’s voice raises and breaks a little, attempting to wriggle out of the trap he inadvertently fell into. There’s still some pride life in him. He will not permit this Jedi Knight, his former Padawan no less, big spoon him, 16 years his senior and former Master. Force be his witness, he will not allow it.
Anakin makes a suffering, exasperated exhale when Obi-Wan manages to slip out of his grip— only to be yanked back by the force. All he manages is a choked gasp of protest before the air is knocked out of him, his back hitting a firm chest a little too hard. There’s a vindictive sort of satisfaction in hearing Anakin chokes out a surprised exhale too, clearly, he did not account for the impact being this strong.
“Karkin’ hell…” he hears the boy muttering and snorts out, laughing even while Anakin wraps his mechno-arm around him, pulling him back into the not-as-offensive as before little spoon position. Fine, he thinks. He’ll allow it, just for this one night…. 
His eyes close and he shudders when Anakin’s nose press against his nape, he can feel the slow, deep inhale— can feel the content exhale that follows. 
“Finally.” Anakin breathes out, as if he was waiting for this moment longer than the few minutes  just now. Like he needed it, himself. Like it was not Obi-Wan, pathetic and alone, messaging his former Padawan while drunk beyond reason that led him here, but his own needs, own wants. Like he needed this too, him. Like he needs him. Obi-Wan. 
“Oh Force…” Obi-Wan calls upon it without realizing, without meaning it. Only the force can stand witness to this moment, judge it, measure it. Guide him, tell him right from wrong. “Force.” His voice trembles with it, realizing for the first time that Anakin does see him, in truth, does and still…
“It’s fine with it.” Anakin remarks, nonchalant, amusement coloring the timbre of his voice. “You don’t have to shout at her, I don’t think she like it very much” Anakin refers to the Force differently every time, Obi-Wan suspects he does it simply for the joy of throwing off the younglings.
It unsettles Obi-Wan as well, he will not admit that much, though. Anakin’s connection with the force was always stronger, always different than anyone else’s. If he’s saying that the Force is not finding this offensive…. Obi-Wan will trust him. Anakin enjoys messing around at times, stretching the truth about how the Force works, but he’d never lie about this, not to him. 
Obi-Wan’s body relaxes so completely that he practically sags into Anakin, relief, so much relief. It feels…. Good. There’s rightness to it that even without the Force humming pleasantly in his ears, he’d recognize. Like sharing a sleeping cot in the war zones, minus the blood and gore and pain… it feels secure, it feels…good…. 
He feels himself being lulled to what he suspects will be a long and restful sleep. Such a luxury as of late. “Mnh..” He jolts a little when a hand moves across his side, resting at his hip bone and then back up to his side. He should not permit Anakin this much leeway with him and yet…. He likes it… oh he likes it.
So he doesn’t comment it, allowing him to continue, to stroke him and care for him, and hold him. He is not leaving. 
Sleep comes ease, as easy as an inhale. One moment he is aware of all that surrounds him, the scent and warmth, the weight and touch. The next he is sinking into the open embrace of rest. Distantly, he feels the touch of a Force Signature he knows as well as his own. It is the only half of it, after all. Accepting it, is as easy as breathing too. 
There’s a distant shift, even in sleep he can feel the bond snapping back into place, like moons falling into a familiar route, circling a singular sun. Maybe it was not Anakin who was the sun around which Obi-wan was circling all along, but their shared….
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zombvibes · 2 years
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According to the tags of your last Allyswap post, you have other AUs. Would you like to share the premise/any doodles you have?
This sounds you’re interrogating me, anon. /lh
Anywho, I DO have other aus and YES I would LOVE to share junk about them.
So when I made the teammateswap and allyswap guys, I had multiple ideas for the characters (obviously). So one day I thought “Man. I still really like these ideas and I wanna use them.” So I did!! Which became the alt aus like as in : alt teammateswap and alt allyswap. They were originally called tms! side b and as! side b. (Which tbh? Might go back to those names…not sure though.)
Like normal teammateswap and allyswap : alt tms is susie swapping with noelle, noelle swapping with berdly, and berdly swapping with susie. alt as is susie swapping with berdly, noelle swapping with susie, and berdly swapping with noelle!
And if y’all don’t mind I’ll just share their (old icky) sprites and some haha hehe dialogue boxes :
TOP = alt teammateswap , BOTTOM = alt allyswap
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(There’s also art of them but um. It’s too old and grody for me to show on here. Unlike twitter, I want to seem prim and proper on tumblr /j)
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Anyways, I’ll probably redesign them at some point and make them ““official”” and also because some swaps don’t really make sense. (But mostly talking about the Susies and Noelles here. The Berdlys are only there so the Noelles could mess with them. Don’t tell anyone I said that though.)
There’s also like…other random aus I thought would be cool or funny but I don’t plan on doing a lot with them (which I will list now) :
THE TIMEOUT AU
- An old snowgrave au idea I had where during the Berdly fight right before Noelle does her spell, Kris rips us out of their chest and puts us in a far they found in a trashcan off screen. Kris would finish the chapter without you and you’d have to watch and think about what you’ve done. (Hence the name.)
- I already talked about how the au would work on twitter but I doubt you’d wanna go onto twitter to see something so I’ll just copy and paste everything here :
This route is called The Timeout route! Kris is tired of your bullshit so they stuff you in a jar they found in one of the trashcans from the city! You get to watch Kris, Noelle, and Berdly finish the chapter without you because you’re a prick! To start this route, during chapter 1 you have to make Kris play the piano (which they do poorly). (You’ll probably have to do many other things to piss Kris off but I can’t think of any at the moment..just know that playing the piano is not optional) Chapter 1 ends as normal! Chapter 2, you gotta start the weird route! Like just killing stuff, then you get the ring etc. But when you get to the Berdly fight, there’s a small chance that Kris stops Noelle right before she does snowgrave. Afterwards, Kris (still in battle) rips out their soul and walks off the screen. There’s trash can rummaging noises the the background. Noelle and Berdly stand there shocked and Berdly asks what’s wrong with Kris. Noelle said that Kris was acting weird all day. Kris comes back with a jar that has their soul in it. Noelle and Berdly proceed to flip their shit. Kris puts the jar in their inventory and grabs Noelle and Berdly’s hands and drags them off to the right thus ending the battle. You get to see Noelle and Berdly ask Kris plenty of questions that Kris ignores and says that they’ll talk about it later. When Kris and co meets up with Susie and Ralsei, they notice that Kris is different. Susie asks what’s wrong, and Kris says that they’ll talk later. Yadda yadda yadda Everyone gets caged (except for Ralsei). Things happen as normal with some things happening differently cause Kris is in control duh. When Susie and Kris are in front of the fountain, Kris takes out the jar and opens the jar. The soul comes out and does its thing. Susie stands there shocked. Once they’re in the lightworld, everything happens normal. Berdly and Noelle leaves thinking it’s all a dream. Susie after they leave looks bewildered at Kris then shakes them : “What the hell was that all about????” You can finally control Kris here and pick between : Tell her what happened and What are you talking about? Telling her what happened : Susie becomes even more confused and Kris (out of your control) says that they’ll elaborate at some point and the conversation ends there. “What are you talking about?” : Susie flips out even more and shakes Kris angrily. Kris doesn’t say anything (this is your doing) and Susie just says : “Whatever…” and leaves without Kris. Susie will still have the sleepover but will be weird around Kris (depending on what which option you choose). Everything will end the same but Kris puts you in the cage and not between the couch. You’ll sit there not being able to see what happened to Susie and Kris. You’ll hear what happened though, you just can’t see it. Then the chapter ends! …Btw you don’t fight spamton in this route, Kris just doesn’t fight spamton.
- (I would’ve made the route work a little different if I worked on it NOW but hey…you get the idea I hope.)
- This au was meant to basically Kris giving the player the middle finger
DELTARUNE BUT IT’S SUMMER NOW I GUESS
- Another old idea I had. It’s normal just deltarune but it takes place during summer school. (Or just the summer I didn’t put too much thought into it. I just wanted to see Kris and Susie have fun in the sun together tbh) It all started because I wanted to make a Phineas and Ferb reference—
TIMESKIP AU
- What kind of au hoarder would I be if I didn’t make a “They’re adults now” au? It mostly focuses in Kris, Susie, and Noelle (Berdly’s there too but I mean…he’s just there. Not too important). The darkners don’t really age in my timeskip au because I just…think they wouldn’t really age like lightners would? Since they’re objects? I feel like they would still look the same but like…with eyebags or dirt/dust on them or something. (Didn’t think about it too much,,)
- They’re all around 20 something? 25??
- There’s art of this too but again…too old and grody for me to show. Pretty sure I posted timeskip suselle stuff on here once but you’ll have to find it yourself I’m not linking it. It’s still a little embarrassing,,,
- I think I may redesign them in the future since they look too “self indulgent” and not how I would actually imagine them in their 20s.
- It’s basically The “Everyone gets facial hair now” au honestly LMAO
SPECIES SWAP
- Another obvious thing for an au hoarder to have— Basically, Kris is a reptile, Susie is a goat, and Ralsei is a human! (There’s also Noelle, who’s a bird, and Berdly, who’s a reindeer…but. I’ll probably not do that or at least it wouldn’t be “canon” to the au.)
- In this au, Susie is a darkner and Ralsei is a lightner (along with Kris.) And this is kind of a role swap as well (kinda?). Ralsei would be the one the player controls. Kris isn’t controlled by their soul and has their regular personality. Susie and Lancer were already established to be buddies before Kris and Ralsei arrived in the dark world. Though in this au, Susie’s personality would be a little goofier to match with Lancer’s. She’s still mean though but chapter 2 mean and not really chapter 1 mean. Ralsei would talk but we wouldn’t be able to hear him (like with human Kris.) He does talk way more than human Kris though. Kris doesn’t talk at all unless necessary or for a funny/dumb quip. For their dark world versions um tbh? I can’t really choose on whether Ralsei should have a sword (like human Kris) or magic (like goat Ralsei). I guess the sword would make more sense but goat Susie would feel a little empty if she isn’t swinging her big ol’ axe around. Again…didn’t think about it too much. OH YEAH AND darkner goat Susie is a prince like goat Ralsei is. (Not princess though because Susie still has her butch lesbian swag in this au)
- Uhhh I do have concept art but it’s not much…I hope to actually sketch out the concepts at some point because darkner goat Susie sounds so much fun to work on!! I have clear ideas of everyone’s designs in my head, just didn’t put it “paper” yet.
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So uh…YUP! Think that’s all! If anyone’s interested on hearing about or seeing a specific au, I’ll try my best to elaborate on it more or quicking sketch out something)
(I’m asking you to send me asks about them if you’re curious)
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i can probably guess how tsumiki might feel abt gojo but how does megs feel abt him? indifference at first because he can only mirror his sis? but then a lot of blame/resentment because gojo’s the reason the zenin tortured him, like they were trying to get to gojo thru him? But then also gratitude for safe harbor and an okay-ish upbringing? But then he was also adopted at like 3 so gojo is the only dad he knows?
I think Megumi has tried very very hard to not think of what gojo is to him.
A lot of his ideas around his family and his relationships within it were really tangled up with what happened with the Zenin as a kid.
The thing is, they really were getting close to being a family when the zenin got part custody. Megumi grew up without anyone in his life other than his sister to really trust. He had no reliable parent presence. but the teen parenting crew really was trying to be stable for him and tsumiki, and while he didn't exactly think of them as family, he's aware he could have gotten there. And then the Zenin happened.
Megumi doesn't blame Gojo for what happened with the Zenin, per se. It's more than he doesn't like to inspect what happened back then because then he might blame himself.
He doesn't blame Gojo for the Zenin trying to get at Gojo through him, either when he was a kid or now. He doesn't view that as Gojo's fault--if anything, it's more of a sign of how much Gojo has helped them over the years? He thinks the Zenin resent Gojo, but it's because Gojo intervened and kept Megumi with his sister for all those years. The Zenin wouldn't hate him so much if Gojo hadn't stuck his neck out for megumi all those years ago. Megumi's painfully aware that he wouldn't have been able to stop the zenin on his own if gojo hadn't intervened. In Megumi's mind, the Zenin are only so dedicated to fucking with Gojo because he stopped them from hurting Megumi all those years ago, so he'd be getting hurt by the Zenin either way.
If anything, their most recent stunt emphasizes how little this is Gojo's fault. It took almost a decade for Gojo to have a big enough crisis on his hands that the Zenin were able to get away with this without Gojo immediately smiting them. Gojo's a big enough umbrella that he's shielded megumi and allowed him to grow up in relative peace for a long, long time.
He doesn't like thinking about what Gojo could have been to him and what he is instead because he doesn't want what the Zenin did to him to be his fault.
It never would have been, to be clear, but people are irrational, especially around things like this. And Megumi just doesn’t want to think about what happened back then, let alone how he could have stopped it.
It’s like this:
For the past decade, Gojo’s been this absolute, uncompromising, and painfully simple stop on the Zenin. The second he realized how bad it was with the Zenin, it stopped. Megumi never saw a single one of them again, until Naoya showed up at his school. As far as he knows, they never even tried to come near him again, because even if they did, Gojo was such an effective insulation that Megumi never even found out about it. Gojo really could have stopped it with barely any effort at all. And he did, as soon as he realized what was actually happening. And Megumi’s secure enough in what he has with Gojo to know that Gojo would never knowingly allow him to be hurt.
Which means Megumi’s constantly had the question of why it didn’t stop sooner living in the back of his mind.
If Gojo always could stop it, and always would have stopped it, and if he didn’t stop it, then it’s because megumi just. Didn’t do a good enough job of asking for help.
I don’t think asking for help came easily to Megumi, even as a little kid. He had never had anyone to rely on other than Tsumiki, who he didn’t like asking for help because it’d burden her even more, and he associated most grown ups with neglect and harm. I think asking Gojo for help when the Zenin took custody was a huge act of vulnerability on his part, and not getting it sort of crushed him.
It really killed a lot of the family that was growing between them all, how bad the Zenin got. It took a long time to heal from it. And a big part of it was the fact that megumi sort of shut everyone out after he asked for help and didn’t get it. He took it as confirmation that they weren’t safe adults who actually cared about him. And he wasn’t going to let anyone see him beg for help when he knew they weren’t going to give it to him.
But then Gojo just… swooped in and fixed everything. Just like that. And he genuinely seemed to not realize the Zenin were hurting him.
Megumi knows gojo, a decade later. He knows Gojo would have stopped it the first time they hit him if he knew. He must not have known. But megumi told him.
Ergo, Megumi just didn’t tell him right. QED.
Megumi doesn’t want to think about that time of his life at all, let alone the fact that it was just… brutally unnecessary. One of the worst, most helpless parts of his life, and it wouldn’t have happened if he had a fucking conversation. But he had it. So he must not have done it right.
Then it’s his fault. And he does not want it to be his fault.
If he thinks about what Gojo is to him, it all gets filtered through what happened with the Zenin and how their relationship changed. He doesn’t want to think of a deeper relationship with Gojo as something he lost, because then maybe that’s his fault too.
Gojo’s good to them. He saved them from the Zenin. Megumi trusts him to have his best interests at heart.
He just doesn’t want to think of what he is past that.
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hua-fei-hua · 2 years
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thank you for all the sweet tags fei fei 🥺 (may i call you that?) it literally made my day haha you're too kind <33
ah, i typically go by "hua" online actually! :D
but yes ofc you're welcome to the compliments!!!! your art is so cute i wish to hold it gently, like hamburger <3 and then eat it LOL
#lotus-pear#asks#i think i have more of your posts in my drafts to be tagged up and queued bc i am a post hoarder but also wander off easily#your colors are always so lovely and vibrant and i am truly nothing if not a magpie immediately enchanted by pretty colors#i saw this ask when i came back from doing the dishes a while back and then was like 'oh! how cute! will answer Soon'#and then immediately went to taking care of my genshin chores n i had Thoughts(tm) abt what i wanted to say#and then they vanished like a wisp on the wind <3 smth smth if you wanted to play together or w/e then like#hehe *hides my face w/a fan but in like a mafia boss kind of way as i hand you a business card* here's my uid-- 628363596#a while ago this rando at-the-time ar40 person in china added me bc my genshin name is 小白雪花 so i get strangers in china sometimes#and i habitually let strangers in anyway n it's always very sudden and embarrassing opportunities to practice my chinese (:monaanguish:)#but this was the first time a lower lv rando added me and so i talked abt it w/my bff nat n she was like 'they're probs looking for help'#n i was like 'mm you're right. i'll let them in and give them 24 hours' and then five minutes later they were like 'hi'#n i was like 'hi~ do you want me to help?' (all in chinese) n they were like 'yes with fighting artifact domains'#i could tell they were popping fragiles bc finally a carry! but i didn't know how to tell them to wait for ar45 for that </3#i don't know if they think i'm quiet or just illiterate but they hit ar45 the other day and asked for help again#n so i went in again and was very impressed to find that i could carry them with just mona+yanfei#like yanfei i am not surprised my quest to min-max her never ends but at one point she died n i had to finish it w/just mona#and so widsith passive was out bc it triggers upon switching in n i Truly Did Not Believe i would make it but i did somehow!#i was pretty devastated when i first got her by accident my first week of gnshn but now i have the most highly-invested mona of my friends#gnshn meta is so fun to think abt it makes me feel like a highly enriched squirrel... hehe went chatterbox in the tags here
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johanna-swann · 2 years
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Sorry to randomly message you about this but I saw your reblog of that will post and like we are 100% in agreement. I don’t know when “sad thing happens on a show that occasionally has sad moments” became homophobic to these people but I cannot believe the takes I’m seeing right now. As a gay person who has been in love with a close friend, Will’s arc is RAW and it’s so well executed so far
Nice to see I'm not the only one. 😅
I think the beautiful thing about Will's character arc in season 4 is that, yeah, he's at rock bottom. He's depressed, lonely, he's feeling rejected/sidelined, he doesn't see much hope if any at all - only to then be reminded: He's not alone.
He has a brother who will move heaven and earth for him and a mother who will never ever give up on him and a sister who feels save around him despite everything they've suffered since they became part of each other's lives.
I've been a depressed teenager and overcoming a difficult situation/phase will always be 100% more relatable and inspiring to me than a story where nothing goes wrong and that's just happy start to finish.
Besides Will deserves way better than Mike but that's not the point.
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rikyos · 9 months
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@kanedoji  sent   :   𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐒         /             sender takes reciever to see lanterns in the sky , the five senses prompts     (     currently   accepting     )
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amakane   weighs   in   as   perhaps   the   only   aspect   of   inazuma   that   kazuha   still   dares   to   hold   such   an   unrealistic   view   of     —     he   had   never   made   the   trip   outside   of   it’s   festival   season :     maybe   this   is   why   the   sakura   blossom   drift   so   serene   in   his   memory ,   an   image   of   this   island   so   gracefully   UNMARRIED   BY   WAR.   surprising   himself ,   he   feels   at   ease   here ,     able   to   fade   in   and   out   of   the   buzz   of   an   inazuma   at   the   height   of   summer     (     the   nostalgia   is   warmth     —     not   quite   so   bittersweet   as   the   rest   of   his   home   )   .   he   finds   himself   lost   in   the   memory   of   festivals   past ,   a   comfortable   distance   from   the   group ,   catching   bits   and   pieces   of   the   crowd   from   the   main   steps   behind   him   and   the   stragglers   on   this   secluded   beach   that   itto   had   apparently   secured   for   himself.   this   is ,   from   what   he   can   garner ,   the   usual   turnout   for   such   events   hosted   by   the   arataki   gang     (     learning   that   it   was   not   the   first   of   them   drew   a   laugh   at   the   time     )      though   kazuha   is   grateful   for   the   lull   in   atmosphere     —    it   appeases   him ,   at   least ,   to   watch   as   THEIR GENEROUS ORGANIZER   makes   various   attempts   at   getting   his   attendees   involved   in   the   fun.   that   is   until   the   night   begins   to   wind   down ,   and   he   spots   the   oni   lingering   amongst   the   dissipating   group ;     takes   the   opportunity   to   beckon   him   towards   the   slope   he   sits   upon.     
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“     a   MOST   SUCCESSFUL   NIGHT   for   you ,   don’t   you   think?     ”     a   soft   note   of   sincerity   accompanies   his   words   as   he   waits   patiently   for   itto   to   take   a   seat   beside   him     —     gaze   focussed   on   the   rest   of   the   gang   preparing   their   final   arrangement   of   the   night   down   by   the   shore.     “     you’ve   certainly   earned   a   moment's   reprieve.     ”     not   that   kazuha   doubts   for   a   minute   he’s   had   his   fun ,   but   his   company   is   welcome   as   lanterns   finally   begin   to   disperse   in   the   sky   and   camouflage   themselves   among   the   stars.   even   those   that   do   not   make   it   far ,   that   wind   up   dwindling   out   on   the   waters’   surface ,   are beautiful   all   the   same.   it’s   not   quite   LANTERN   RITE      —     yet   it   may   just   be   something   even   better       (   the   silhouette   of   narukami   so   lovely   /   his   heart   so   full   )   and   he   turns   to   itto   with   such   resolution.     
“     thank   you ,     ”     his   own   expression   must   mirror   the   content   on   his   companions.      “     .  .  .   for   giving   me   a   reason   to   come   here   tonight.     ”   
for   giving   him   this   perspective   of   the   mainland ,   this   feeling   in   his   chest   SO ACHINGLY FAMILIAR.   for   preserving   the   innocence   of   his   memories.   for   so   much   more   that   itto   would   never   expect     —     that   he   doesn’t   feel   any   need   to   vocalize   but   still   falls   right   into   place   as   the   lights   blink   out   of   view.      
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guacamoleroll · 2 months
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𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉 「𝔩𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔣𝔢𝔯」 ೀ⋆。˚
content. f!reader. discussions of separation/divorce, friends to lovers, (name) is a fallen angel, sexual harassment, insecurities, discussions of mental health, spoilers for hazbin hotel season finale, implied/referenced not-safe for work. not proofread. 3.3k+ words.
author's note. i'm not sure if i'll be making a valentine's day post, but i haven't updated in a while, and i wanted to post something. so here's another hazbin hotel oneshot that's been in my drafts for a while! (sorry to all my bsd readers, i will be posting content soon!) i hope you guys enjoy ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´-
would you like to see more? join the taglist or comment under this post!
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synopsis. two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.
OR someone comes in to try and ruin your relationship with lucifer, and he isn't happy about it.
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You remembered the sensation of an eternal inferno, the mark of damnation that scorched your fingertips, submerging your divine being within a cluster of flames. Exiled from the heavens—a fate worse than death to most became an accepted element of your newfound reality. You never belonged perched atop clouds, even with the virtue nestled in the recesses of your heart. A part of you feared the unknown as you descended through novas and clouds, but it felt like a pressure had lifted from your being as those imposing gates shrunk behind you.
As the first of a cluster of falling stars, your impact landed you on the steaming ground of a new, hellish landscape, your mind scattered from the force of the fall, limbs trembling with their aching joints. And that was when you saw him, a brand-new man who held out his hand, smile desperate yet reassuring. The Morning Star himself, brought upon the same fate, still shaken from the tragedy of his descent—it had been much more personal for him.
“It’ll be okay, (Name),” his familiar voice reassured, but it was impossible not to hear the waver in his tone as your hands intertwined. “It’ll all be okay.”
And with a single touch, traversing hand-in-hand through this foreign land, you knew that someday, he would be right.
But that happened many millennia ago, a tale for storybooks rather than a memory that should’ve constantly been on a loop in your mind, held onto during the dead of lonely, bitter nights. Despite your long-standing friendship, the both of you held very separate lives—him with his family, you with your industry. You worked in tandem in relation to the public and aristocratic duties but otherwise barely spoke past the occasional smile and wave. And no, you couldn’t help the desolation that had sprouted inside your heart, the muscle aching as you observed his radiant smile from across ballrooms, the king exchanging affectionate glances at his wife while coddling his sweet daughter. But you were happy for him all the same. He deserved to be surrounded by those he loved, deserved to be happy after years of heartbreak, even if you weren’t in the picture.
But you knew that you could depend on each other, even if you hadn’t spoken in months. It was an unspoken connection between you, a rule unbroken. Which was the reason you knew his midnight call one evening had been serious. His voice was flooded with anguish, sputtering out incomprehensible words as his breath caught with every beat. You dropped everything, the paperwork and meeting planning, flying over with speed so fast that the denizens of Hell whispered for days about the shooting star that had flown across the sky that evening. 
In your journey, there was one persistent question that kept bothering you—why wasn’t his wife the one to comfort him? It wasn’t that you minded, not at all, but the entire situation struck you as odd. However, your answer became clear as you cracked open the doors to his bed chambers; the room was frozen and still as if left abandoned. However, the knocked-over furniture and smashed artifacts only made it look like it was robbed, which you highly doubted. And there in the center of the chaos was the Morning Star himself—no, Lucifer. Simply Lucifer. His body crumpled to the ground, painful hiccups leaving his lips. You slipped inside with ease and were about to grab his attention, and then you spotted it, the large lettering of a familiar type of document—a divorce agreement.
You were aware that the relationship between Lucifer and Lilith wasn’t perfect, not by any means. When they had fallen in love, there wasn’t a guideline for navigating relationships and marriage. They had to play it entirely by ear, leading to rushed decisions and a shaky foundation. You had always believed that they were each other’s perfect half, but it was only because their punishment and subsequent banishment had tied them together and forced them to suffer the same fate. At least, that was their belief for a couple of millennia. It didn’t mean that the split that was bound to happen didn’t hurt.
His cries had been hard to hear, throaty and painful, his body trembling as he mourned on the floor. It took a culmination of your mental and physical strength to unravel him, forcing him away from those papers and into an embrace, slowly steadying his breath with yours as he clung to you as if you would leave if he let go. That night set the standard for weeks of a miserable routine, with the former king reduced to sobs and silence. It was unbearable, especially as he pulled away from those who cared for him—his fellow sins, his friends, and especially his daughter. But you continued to hold on, not leaving even with his harsh utterances and occasional outbursts. You wouldn’t let him be alone, couldn’t let him be alone, moving into the broken family’s manor to care for him full-time.
And he would always be thankful for that.
His mental health was climbing uptick for years, fluctuating back and forth until he had stabilized, at least in comparison to his state before. He became fantastic at masking his depression, brushing it underneath the rug as he delved into his own creations, pushing many of his relationships even further away as he stopped leaving home. You were the one to bring him food and clean the estate—his staff had drifted to other careers over the past few years. You were the one assuring that he wasn’t left hunched over a bench in the worst posture possible, toiling away with his latest obsession, no matter the cuteness of the ducks.
In his more conscious moments, you would listen as he ranted about his issues, even though you both were aware they were a product of his self-isolation. But in those instants, whispering quietly as if the heavens still held onto your every word, hiding from its light as if the touch of it would scorch your skin, an intimacy blossomed from the depths of your former friendship. It had remained idle for centuries, underlying the foundation of every interaction and word, leaving fleeting touches and shared laughter in your blissful youths for stern support and brief softness in your demonic adulthoods—neither of you ever noticed that you saw the other through heart-shaped lenses. Two fallen ones, cut from the same cloth, destinies forever intertwined by the choices you made as young seraphim.
But that had been the norm for thousands of years.
And without knowing, you had fallen into a relationship stage humans had archaically dubbed as “courting,” traveling outside the estate for the chance to spend time with one another, exchanging personalized gifts whenever the opportunity arose, swapping words of encouragement and affection. It was only after you had kissed him on the cheek one night that you both realized your feelings, and it only spiraled on from there. There were scars from his past love—undoubtedly, you had nurtured them with care—but even despite those, you worked to establish a healthy, balanced relationship as you navigated this strange stage in your lives.
However, there was someone who had not been quite so fond of this new development. You had attended meetings with the Heaven Embassy for many years as a favor to Lucifer, his absence becoming common after his separation from Lilith, but you could still remember locking eyes with the first man as you entered the room, dropping the chicken drum in his hands as his mouth widen agape.
“Hot damn.”
His flirtatious and oftentimes self-centered advances didn’t fly past your head like you wished they would. It seemed despite having thousands of years under his belt, he was unable to learn any kind of manners, but he had been the original sexist prick. And for his status as a divine man, he fucked around a lot. You didn’t doubt that was due to his own insecurities about both of his wives preferring someone else’s dick over his.
Once you and Lucifer had started dating, you happened to make the mistake of slipping that information to Adam in the hopes that he would back off, but it only seemed to provide him a challenge as his flirtations increased tenfold. From then on, your meetings no longer consisted of the same old information surrounding the exterminations; rather, they were him pointing out the many sexual accolades that he had roped under his belt and the way that apparently made him better than Lucifer—his favorite line was always that “that snake must have a little snake.”
Your disdain was obvious, repeating over and over for him to shut his mouth, but he would only smirk, taking your response as a sign that he had struck a nerve and that it was an opportunity to dig deeper. You decided to take over all the meetings with the embassy, keeping Lucifer away from the lecherous banter of the man, no matter the discomfort that formed in your gut from his unabashed perverseness and the predatory stares at your body.
“Come onnnn, babe,” Adam whined, in the middle of biting the meat off a chicken bone.
You shot him a look. “I’m not your babe, Adam.”
“Babe.” If you were able to reach over and strangle him, you would’ve. That was probably the reason the coward used a hologram instead of coming here himself. “A guy like that couldn’t possibly please you the way I could.”
You massaged your nose bridge, pointedly ignoring the flicker of his eyes from your face to your chest, unable to maintain stable eye contact. “Can we just get on with the meeting?”
“You know I’m right, but I’ll let you off the hook for now.”
You groaned, slamming your head onto the table.
From years onward, his nerve only increased, but he had never shown his bloodlust to you before until the exorcist army descended from the heavens to wreak chaos and death upon the doorstep of Lucifer’s only child, Charlie. You and the ever-so-optimistic princess of Hell developed quite a soft spot for one another, which wasn’t difficult since you had already been considered family in centuries past. The title of your romantic relationship with her father initially came with questions and a couple of awkward moments, but it wouldn’t stop either of you from growing a deeper friendship and understanding, walking through the process together. And it definitely didn’t stop you from defending the girl you had seen for years as a pseudo-daughter, along with her noble ambitions.
“Charlie!” you yelled, knocking Adam away from her as he attempted to strangle her. Charlie sputtered, holding her throat with a pained cough, and you raised a steady hand to her back, helping her rise to her feet. You gave her a once-over, relieved to find that she had no substantial wounds besides a couple of cuts and bruises.
You sighed, cupping her rosy cheeks. “Thank goodness you’re alright. Sorry for being so late. Your father will be here any moment.”
Her formerly desolate expression quickly changed into a beaming smile, eyes glimmering with revitalized determination. “Good! We need all the help we can get.”
However, the moment was cut short by the overexaggerated breaths of a particular man, Adam wobbling to his feet as he cradled his bruised ribs, which you didn’t doubt had been cracked in the impact. It was hard not to smile as he struggled to stand, a wave of retribution twitching through your fingertips.
“You bitch,” he groaned between shallow gasps, though his voice drifted into a humorous lilt. “You know, I’m all for feisty women, but this shit’s a bit extreme, don’tcha think, babe?”
“I am not your babe, Adam.”
You cringed at the moan that left his lips, knowing it was not from the pain of his bruises. “God damn, I love it when you say my name.” He chuckled. “It’d be better if you screamed it.”
“You couldn’t have been that good if both your wives left you for someone else,” you muttered, swallowing your bodily urge to vomit as you rubbed the burgeoning headache coursing through your temples.
His expression drained of any warmth or humor, only leaving behind the rotted, sinful corpse of a man that he pretended not to be. “What the fuck did you say to me, bitch?”
“Hmmm,” you hummed, rolling your eyes. “Did I strike a nerve there?”
His mouth contorted into a snarl. “You know, the only reason that snake keeps your ass around is because he needs a couple of assets,” he barked, curving his hands to gesture toward your curves. “To distract him!”
“Hey! Don’t talk about him—”
He cut you off, his imposing figure towering over you. “You’re only a convenience. A pretty face and a hole to fuck.”
You gasped, but he didn’t let you speak, a smirk curling up on his disgusting face. “You don’t mean anything to him, hun,” he sneered, his voice sickeningly sweet as he grabbed your chin, craning your neck at a muscle-aching angle to stare into your eyes. “You had a chance at heaven, slut. A chance to be with me. And you fuckin’ blew it—!”
He didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence, a bone-crunching punch tunneling into his face, his body cast off the hotel, which rocked under the aftershock, before it started to crumble like a deck of cards. With no time to waste, you and Charlie haphazardly jumped from shrapnel piece to shrapnel piece, able to land on the ground with barely a tumble as it collapsed into your foundation. The moment would’ve been devastating if your focus hadn’t been pinpointed elsewhere, the screams of a dying man drawing everyone to the impact pit.
“You have a lot of fuckin’ nerve,” a low voice scowled, sweltering steam blocking everyone’s vision away from the pair until it evaporated into the air, and that was when you spotted him. His voice was barely recognizable. The duplicated tones and whispers surrounding each word made him unidentifiable. But you knew who it was; those familiar sets of wings and the eyes of his tailcoat were clues enough. You hadn’t seen him take this form in decades, centuries even—he had no use for it, and to go to such an extreme was unlike him. He was shaking more than ever before; his fists balled up Adam’s collar as he pinned him to the ground.
“Intruding on my fuckin’ realm. Hurting my daughter.” And with each offense, another blow was added to the first man’s face, which looked more like roadkill than a former human with each malefaction. “Harassing and insulting my future wife!”
“Don’t you mean your little whore?” Adam managed to utter, that cocky tone still persistent. 
But that was a terrible mistake.
Lucifer did not respond to his comment, not at all. Instead, he paused, finding himself unprepared for the sheer audacity of the man underneath him, a man only clinging to life through recesses of holy power and spite. To the unsuspecting bystander, it would seem the king had calmed himself down, but instead, an inferno blazed between his fingertips, his form threatening to tear with the amount of heavenly light that he balanced on his palms. The ire of his many eyes looked upon Adam, and they saw to it that his judgment day had come early.
“Die.”
“Dad!”
Luck seemed to have Adam’s back as Charlie intervened, one of the few people who could ever draw her father out of such an irate warpath. However, it was only after a moment of contemplation from Lucifer, whose eyes stared at Adam, his face unreadable as his fingers twitched before he cracked a wicked smirk.
“How’s mercy feel, bitch?”
The next moments were a blur, though those eyes had turned towards you instead, not with the anger they had towards Adam, but of sheer contemplation—not that you paid attention to them, watching Adam’s death unfold in an ironically anti-climatic sort of way. You would’ve felt bad if your mind didn’t remedy the guilt in your gut with memories of your several encounters, most of which were not PG-13. The rest of the staff and residents gathered their bearings, joining to work on rebuilding the hotel, but you did not have the strength to. Instead, you took a moment for yourself, thoughts toiling through your head as they often did, not understanding the icky, nauseous feeling pooling at the bottom of your stomach.
You flinched at the brush of a hand that rested on your shoulder, only to find that it had been Lucifer, his brow furrowed in that same contemplative expression. And much like those times alone in the estate decades prior, a patient silence persisted as he sat next to you, gauging each touch as he pulled you closer, allowing your limp body to lean into his.
“You know none of what that asshole said is true, right?”
Is that what you had been so concerned about? You couldn’t tell. Your thoughts surrounding your relationship, especially in the context of his former love, had always been indecipherable, even to yourself. His question brought a small beam of clarity into the shadowed pits of your darkest thoughts, but it wasn’t the time to talk about it. Not now, at least.
“Yeah, I know.” Your voice was more shaken than you wanted it to come out, but he understood the underlying message. He could tell it wasn’t the truth, not entirely, and that the roots of your insecurities weren’t something to be remedied through a singular conversation. But it was a start. He intertwined your fingers, caressing the bare area of your ring finger.
“I wish you would’ve told me,” he spoke, his voice soft. “I would never have let you go to those meetings.”
You stayed staring out into the distance. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”
However, he believed differently, tilting your chin as he cupped your face, much more loving compared to the hands that had grabbed you prior. And his eyes, ones that had been filled with hatred, now glinted in sharp concern. “But it is a big deal. That’s sexual harassment.”
“You were going through so much,” you replied. “It was just one additional thing I didn’t want you to deal with. Another burden on your back.”
“(Name),” he said, voice stern.
The gruffness of his uncompromising tone drew your eyes to your hands. “Any insult to you is an insult to me. Always has been, always will be. People don’t get to talk to you like that. It doesn’t matter what shit I’m going through. That doesn’t mean you get to be thrown under the bus.” He cracked a smile. “And anyone who even thinks of treating you less than the perfection you are deserves to be roasted alive. You’re not a burden. You’re priceless.”
“You’re really into those cannibalism metaphors recently,” you quipped, a bit of your reprieve and humor returning back. He laughed, his heart falling into ease, though he recognized the nod towards his disdain for a certain radio demon, his expression contorting in disgust.
“I’m not gonna eat him! Think of how gross that thing would taste. Just awful, bleh—!”
You cut him off with a kiss, making his rosy cheeks redden more. “Thanks, Lu.”
You tried to stand. His arm braced underneath your back, a hand brushing across the sensitive skin of your waist as he hovered above, his lips locked onto yours. You sighed into his mouth as his fingers mapped every beauty mark of your face, only for him to split, panting. His eyes shone with recognizable desperation, but the smirk on his lips told you he was prepped to tease, brushing the stray baby hairs out of your face that had been ruffled in the fray.
“If someone ever bothers you like that again, you tell me. Got it?”
You only sighed. “Lucifer, I can handle my—”
He pressed a kiss to your knuckles, mouth upturned in a cheeky grin at the way it cut you off. “It’s not smart to fight without your shield, now, is it?’
You relented, unable to withhold your bashful grin. “Of course.”
A silence persisted.
“Your future wife, hm?”
“…shit.”
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ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ: @little-miss-chaoss
© ɢᴜᴀᴄᴍᴏʟᴇʀᴏʟʟ 2024 — ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ ᴏʀ ʀᴇᴘᴏꜱᴛ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ʀᴇᴀꜱᴏɴ. ʜᴏᴡᴇᴠᴇʀ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢꜱ ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴏᴛʜ ᴡᴇʟᴄᴏ��ᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇɴᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇᴅ
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shaguro · 3 months
Text
— ✰ NEVER LOSE ME | CONNIE S.
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✧synposis: connie loves to visit his favorite girl after his races.
✧contents: smut with a lil plot. (streetracer!connie x stripper reader, reader is black. (she has a fro but no other physical descriptions are given besides that.) unestablished relationship. unprotected sex (p in v) breeding kink?? unrequited feelings but not really. reader is just young, sexy and free; just having fun. 🩷 very inspired by the song by flo milli, doesn't follow that exact plot though! mdni.
✧word count: 1.6k.
✧shanti’s note: chile… i made three different drafts before i settled on this one, okay! so it was definitely a major work in progress for a while but we made it yall! i'm so nervous about this one for some reason, can't pinpoint why. anywho, i hope y'all enjoy it. forgot to answer the ask but THANK YOU for the ask anon, and i hope you enjoy it 🩷
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all the other dancers wondered how you managed to bag the connie springer, a well-known street racer in your area. he was a loyal client. always respectful, tipped well — not to mention, he’s fine as fuck. connie always came to see you after one of his many winning races, ready to shower you in affection and with money he just won. so just like the other times, you’re in one of the private rooms in the strip club; the pink led lights illuminated your soft skin, showcasing all the dips and curves of your beautiful body.
“it’s because of you, baby.” connie licks his lips, tattooed hands rested on the fattest part of your ass, only separated by the thin fabric of your thong. “you’re the reason i never lose.”
“oh please.” you kiss your teeth. with your hands on his knees, you lean forward to give him the view you knew he loved. “you say that shit every time you come see me. we both know it’s not true, so stop it.”
now it was his turn to suck his teeth, his hand meeting your ass with a hard smack! you gasp and almost jolt forward but connie’s hand is on your throat, pulling you backwards until your bare back is against his chest. you tilt your head to meet those pretty hazel eyes and god, his glare was so intense it actually made you nervous.
and it had your pussy fluttering, clenching on nothing.
“i say it ‘cuz i mean it.” his free hand trails up your thigh, stopping dangerously close to your core. he chuckles when you spread your legs, watching your reflection intently in the tall mirror. “didn’t even do anything yet and look, already openin’ up f’me.”
this sort of interaction should not be happening between a dancer and a client, you knew that — when it came to connie though, he was the only exception. maybe it was because you felt like he saw you, went out of his way to have an actual relationship with you. connie wanted you to be his girlfriend but you always refused. you were too sexy, too carefree to be tied down by anyone, especially a man.
it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the man’s company though; you two had gotten close, close enough that you’d link up outside the club. late nights spent in his customized red wraith, hanging out the window as the cool evening breeze hit you. connie would buy you all kinds of jewelry and the biggest bouquets of red roses you’d ever seen. take you out on dates, even flew you out once. but you were just having fun and that didn’t mean you needed to be with him.
in moments like this, though? you considered that possibility a little more.
“connie, mmm.” you moaned, his nimble fingers rubbing at your barely-clothed clit. there’s something about his touch that electrifies your whole body, your hips rolling, seeking more friction. “my b-boss might pop in, we shouldn’t..”
connie hums in acknowledgment, his wet tongue tracing along your neck. “i don’t give a fuck and you know that.” indeed, you did. “she was on your ass last time?”
the last time your boss had walked in, connie had you on your back, legs spread wide as he ate you out like a man starved. it was embarrassing, even connie couldn’t save you from the lengthy lecture you received. you don’t remember every single thing your boss said but she made one rule very clear: no fucking in her strip club.
you were a fan favorite so she wouldn’t get rid of you, even if you had a tendency to bend the rules.
“she was.” you sigh, leaning your head back on his shoulder. one of your hands were on his head, feeling on his blonde buzzcut while his lips latched onto delicate skin. “i don’t give a fuck either.”
his chuckle vibrated through your skin, sent shivers up your spine. you knew he’d just left a mark with the way his tongue swept over the damage, another trace of him that would need extra concealer.
“how much time do we have left, pretty?”
you look up to the bedazzled glittery clock on the wall, squinting your eyes to see it better. “hmm.. like twenty minutes?”
connie scoffed. “i’ll make you cum in ten.”
all that could be heard in the dimly-lit room were the sounds of your sweet cries as your ass ricocheted off connie’s pelvis, the steady clap clap clap so loud in your ears. you were on all fours with connie right behind you. he had one hand cupped on your jaw, keeping your head upright and the other on the fat of your hip — digging crescents into your soft skin with each snap of his hips.
“open your eyes, baby. look and see how pretty you look.” he gives your jaw a light squeeze and you comply, slowly opening your lashed eyelids to observe yourself, to drink in the mess he’s made of you.
your brown curly fro ruffled and scattered, drool trickling from your open mouth with one hand on the crystal mirror to brace yourself. you swore your eyes had crossed from the overwhelming pleasure you felt and he was so deep — damn near touching your lungs, knocking all the air out of them.
and then connie is leaning forward, his breath ghosting your ear. “see? so pretty.” this was anything but an innocent statement. connie took pride in having you like this — completely dumb off his dick to the point that all you could do is beg, whine for more and he’d never hold back. he’d give it all to you.
not only his dick but he’d give his whole heart too, the whole damn world if it meant he’d never lose you.
“c-connie, ohhfuck.” you mewl, your free hand is reaching behind you, scrambling to find his arm to claw at or anything to steady yourself with. “so deep, i c-can’t—“
“you can, baby.” he coos. connie holds your arm and to your horror, bends it to a degree at the small of your back, keeping it in place. his pace never falters, grinding into that swollen spot inside you so deliciously, you couldn’t breathe — any attempts at sound caught in your throat.
“always take me so well—fuck.” connie lets out a moan so erotic, your pussy clenches involuntarily around him. “l-love this fuckin’ pussy.”
your eyelids felt so heavy as you looked at connie’s reflection in the mirror, admiring the handsome man that tore you up with ease. his head is tilted down with his bottom lip captured between his top row of pretty white teeth, eyes trained on where your bodies connected. he was mesmerized at how you swallowed all his dick so greedily, sinking deeper and deeper as you fucked back into him, a white milky ring of cream forming on the base of his length — it was truly a sight like no other.
“want you to myself,” connie grits out, landing a quick slap on your ass, rubbing the tender flesh right after to soothe the sting. “c-can’t lose you, (y/n)—hah—can’t let anyone else h-have you.”
“c-connie, you—“
“tell me,” he interrupts and his eyes meet yours in the glass, all low and dark, full of passion. “tell me you’re mine, that this—” his hand trails down the arched curve of your back, it was like fire trailed behind his fingertips. “—is all for me, only for me.”
you nod dumbly, not even realizing what you’re saying, your voice only a whisper. “y-yes, it’s y-yours.”
connie shakes his head and leans forward once again, this time with a sharp thrust into your soppy cunt, filling you to the hilt. you gasp and you can’t stop your eyes from rolling into your skull, from crying out his name.
“gotta be louder than that, pretty. say it one more time f’me?” he’s pressing wet kisses along your jaw and neck, clouding your focus even further. you could feel his dick pulsing inside you, stretching you out so perfectly. you wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, letting him ruin you till the end of time.
“i-it’s—“ you inhale, a deep shaky breath. “it’s all yours, connie. this p-pussy is yours, so fuck me like you m-mean it.”
it’s like as soon as you say those words, a switch flips in connie’s brain.
instead of straightening his posture, his chest is flush against your back, the gold chain on his neck dangling over your shoulder as he starts to rut his hips into you with no precision. and it’s so filthy, your poor cunt squishing and squelching sporadically, warm milky slick trickling down your thighs.
“gonna—nghh, gonna fuckin’ cum.” his voice raised an octave, all slurred and whiney. “where… where d-do you want it, baby?”
he was expecting to hear your ass or your back, maybe even your face if you were feeling extra nasty. nothing prepared him for that pretty whine you let out prior to saying,
“inside! want it inside con, wanna feel it..” you give him the cutest pout and all he could think was fuck, you would really be the death of him.
only a few moments passed before you got what you wanted — connie’s hot, sticky cum paints your inner walls generously and it’s so much, each rock of his hips had the fluid gushing out of you. it sends you right over the edge. your legs give out, the sheer force of your orgasm had you trembling, limp in connie’s strong arms. you glanced tiredly at the ticking clock one last time and damn, he really did make you cum in ten minutes.
there was no time to recover because as you two were on the floor, tangled and sweaty, still out of breath — your boss slams the door open, her face screwed with anger.
“both of y’all, get the fuck out!”
but you didn’t care, not at all. this just meant you'd have another one of those nights, music blasting from those booming speakers as connie sped down the freeway, his hand on your thigh when he'd repeat those six words without fail, "i never want to lose you."
tonight, you decided that he wouldn't.
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hunnieknight · 1 year
Text
"The Birds and The Feathers"(+Art)
Just a pretty swan in its nest by the lake living its best life....until these avians decided you are their target of affection.
Broken grammar, Swan!Reader x Avian Constellation characters {Kaeya, Diluc, Xiao, Ayaka, Layla, Al Haitham, Kaveh, Fischl}, GN!Reader, Modern AU(?), the reader is oblivious(?), non-establish relationship, you are "that one neighbour" type of thing feral-like behaviour, everyone acting similar to their representation bird, hints of yandere, possessive and obsessive behaviour, a bit of suggestive if you squint.
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Note : Human with bird wings! Nest refers to everyone's own house, You are a swimming trainer at your local pool.
Note (13 May) : this was drafted before Mika appearance and during Kaveh first appearance (so no Mehrak)! So thats why he isnt here,and im already drained to add him
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Kaeya {Pavo Ocellus//Peacock}
My my, a pretty bird isn't he? Your charismatic neighbour who would greet you with that bright smile of his.
He is that one neighbour who is always curious about your activity but won't pester you much if you refuse to answer, respecting your boundaries.
Checking up on you seems to be his favourite thing, he will briefly visit your humble hut near the lake and offers you some fruits or veggies he brought on his way home. Whenever you decline he somehow always gets an urgent call and can't bring all the groceries he had bought. Well, since he is already at your house, why don't you just accept these fresh fruits he so dearly brought to you?
If he is stopping by your nest, he often lazes around your house whilst chatting about his daily life and you just listened to him while munching on snacks he brought to you. If you are swimming, he will sit by the dock under a shade, leaving you to enjoy what you like the most. Beside, he is also enjoying seeing what he likes the most
One of the things he often gives you is little trinkets...well...the only kind of trinket he gave you is a peacock feather in a resin. It could be a bookmark, a keychain, or a small wall decoration. Since the rarely have time to hang out with you, he needs to make sure part of him will always be with you.
Peacock does value their beauty to attract their female counterpart, but for you? He would gladly be featherless with no second thoughts.
Diluc {Noctua/Great Horned Owl}
A magnificent fancy owl, isn't he? An admirable owl in its prime age running such a huge wine tycoon. Compared to the other houses in the neighbourhood, his is the biggest.
You often see him around but never interact until you bring your swimming class to collaborate with Dawn Winery. There, you saw him personally bring the crates of grape juices for your students. You both start a small conversation, and after that day you often see him on your way to work. He will pull over by your side and insist on driving you there.
His wings span is HUGE. When the sun's heat stings your skin, he will use his wings as your umbrella. What a gentleman indeed.
For some odd reason, he is active during the day and awake at night. How did he get enough proper sleep? You are not sure yourself. Another owl trait of his is his quiet steps or walk, you are always startled whenever he greets you at the swimming centre to bring grape juices for your students, and your wings spread to smack him in the face. After that incident, he always makes sure to approach you from the front.
Other than acts of service, his language is also gift-giving. At first, it was some raw meat to cook or a perfectly cooked steak you can eat, but after learning about the swan's diet, Diluc changed it into grapes and grape juices from his winery. Let's just say sometimes your nest smells like his wine.....like part of him.
Somehow this owl makes sour expressions whenever he sees peacock trinkets around your house after you confirmed Diluc where are those gifts from, he started giving you a quill pen with a feather interestingly similar to his.
Xiao {Alatus Nemeseos/Black-Tail Jade Finch}
Hm? Are you worried about your nest's safety at night? Afraid to go home by yourself when it is late? Suddenly crave eating in the middle of the night? No need to be worried about that anymore! This finch right here, Xiao, is ready to be your bodyguard.
You rarely chat with him, considering he is an introverted bird and prefers to stay in his nest. Other than seeing him dropping off and picking up his little sister, Qiqi at the swimming centre, you guys only meet in public places like parks or convenience stores, where it always started with a curt nod from him and an acknowledgement smile from you. Other than that, you guys don't talk much. However, if you guys do meet in public coincidentally at night, he often 'offers' you to walk back to your nest.
If you count 'waiting for you in front of the convenience store and walking side-by-side with you with no talking' as an offer.
Although his wings and bird's form looks small and cute, he is the most resilient and intimidating among your avian neighbour. Once you saw him decked a man thrice his size because -according to Xiao- 'He looked at you funny'.
He will not hesitate to guard you to your nest, no matter how often you tell him you don't want to bother him, he will just quip back "-and you prefer to get hunted by those bad birds?". As much as your interaction with him is awkward, you always offer tea whenever both of you arrive at the door. But he just refuses politely and 'scurry away'.
Although, he doesn't underestimate you. Once he saw you, the delicate swan became a vicious eagle to protect your swimming students.
Well, now he ought to see you protecting their child together- huh? No that's too far, he is thinking too far. He can just settle with protecting your nest and accompanying you on walks.
Ayaka {Grus Nivis/Snow Crane}
(Note : Ayaka's ability to walk on water refers to her Alt Sprint and how cranes mostly spend their time in shallow water)
Oh my! Look at her beautiful snow-like wings. Such a delicate bird and a classy one too. As a Kamisato, her giant nest (estate) where she lives with her brother is standing proudly on top of a man-made island above the lake with lilypads and lotus blooming here and there. The estate is so beautiful, you are drawn to the magnificent estate to take photos, especially the lotus lake, your swan instinct just brought your feet there.
You purposely approach the lake behind the estate. Avoided the guards so you can have a peaceful time. There, you saw her. The famous snow crane lady Kamisato Ayaka..she seems like dancing? You were mesmerized for a bit by her delicate moves, her flowy hair spinning around her like snow ribbon, and her blue ey- wait what?! She saw you, her wide blue eyes can tell she didn't expect an audience. You awkwardly make a thumbs-up and clap a little. Your wings cover your body whilst you run away from the spot.
You were just swimming around the lake near your nest, the swan blood in you just loves water so much. When you raise up above the water, you find yourself surrounded by beautiful lotus and lilypads floating around your lake, you turned around to see the snow crane above the water, smiling softly at you.
After that lilypad meeting, you both often meet behind your house -something about her feeling more comfortable to become a regular snow crane. She never hated the life of royal birds but living freely without rules to follow seems fascinating to her. So, you showed her your humble nest and how you teach little birds to swim. In return, she integrated you into her life; introducing you to her charming brother -Ayato- and the nice housekeeper Thoma, serving dishes that fit to swan's diet whenever you visit, and often a bundle of Otogi sticks or some fragrant oil from Otogi given to you before you leave-as decoration for your house she suggests and to make your nest smells more like hers.
Layla {Luscinia/Nightingale}
Poor little one, this small bird often crashes by your nest to nap or rest. Her eye bags get darker every time you see her. The least you can do is offer her warm milk to drink before she naps.
Well, you two have been close since you both were still little chicks. At this point, your nest is hers and hers is yours. Her wings feather is everywhere at your nest, from how often she is having a 'sleepover'-which is mostly you pushing her to get enough rest. She even has her own little corner in your nest, where her work drafts and papers are scattered around.
Speaking of sleeping, Layla, you know has an alternate personality that manifests from her when she is in deep sleep. This persona is energetic and determined, if Layla forgot to drink the milk you gave her before sleeping the nighttime Layla will drink it before she does her work. This Layla is very bold and affectionate to you, talkative too! Often she asks your opinion about her paper, and although you don't much about her study, you gave her the encouragement she needed.
Nightime Layla often asks for your blessing every time she is about to sleepwalk go outside. You often give her hugs and cheek kisses as a blessing. Once you gave her a mini dreamcatcher keychain with your feather on it, saying she could always ask for a new feather if the old one snapped, was dirty, or was missing...and she does. She keeps asking for another of your feather because somehow she lost it.
However, what you don't know is, she always keeps the keychain in pristine condition, she just likes to collect parts of you as a good luck charm!
Well....this often leads to Daytime Layla waking up to swan feathers in her closet and her desk drawer. She was confused but not thinking much of it. Instead, she uses the feathers to fill up her pillow fillings or quill.
Ah, somehow she always dreamt of you with this special pillow of hers. Hmm..can't have that..she misses you, welp! Time for another sleepover at your nest!
Al Haitham {Vulture Volans/White Backed Vulture}
So apparently, vultures often spread their wings wide to dry up their wings..and you learnt how wide vultures' wings are. How do you know? Well, this neighbour of yours, whose backyard is coincidentally facing the lake of your nest, often sunbathes his wings there near the lake whilst reading a book.
So, imagine your fear when a buff tall man of a carnivore bird with a stoic face just spreads his wings for an hour, sitting by the lake. You both just nod to each other in acknowledgement while you shake in fear, deciding not to swim that day.
You can tell he has a roommate, judging by the bickering noises and how there are extra shed feathers that aren't his. It is too soft and delicate to be Vultures. You wanted to bring it up to him as a worried neighbour, but you decided it will only make you a nosy one so you keep quiet, and keep greeting with nodding when you both meet by the lake.
Well, either he has sharp eyes or you are too obvious. One day he gave you some fruits and veggies along with small fish. You could tell he searched swan's diet, considering vulture's diet are all meat. "I apologize for any disturbance we may cause, my roommate and I are not on good terms as you can hear." his eyes glanced towards his nest. You waved your hand dismissively clearly not wanting to make things awkward, so you offered him to eat the stuff he gave to you together on your dock.
Well, his logical and rationality views on everything aside, his company is enjoyable. He is open to any perspective, even yours who isn't a scholar. He never belittles you if you awkwardly ask about some terms he had mentioned, you can see his eyes light up a bit as he enlightens you in detail to you, yet he also makes sure it isn't overwhelming.
Apparently, he prefers a quiet environment and so do you as a mute swan. You both often spend quality time together as neighbours with him reading books and sunbathing at your dock whilst you swim or float around on the lake.
Well, isn't this the domestic life he dreamt of?
Kaveh {Paradisaea/Paradise Bird}
Well, this is the bird that the vulture keeps talking about, though you didn't expect it is a bird known for its artistic side.
Paradise birds are known to be delicate and magnificent birds, the male all dance and sing and are pretty. Well, this one...surely a unique one. You first saw him when he stumped out Al-Haitham's nest all pent-up and angry, even his wings are all puffed out. You both had eye contact, his red orbs widen to see you so as to not make anything worse you swam away.
The next day, while you relax by the dock eating some fruits, you saw him carrying some wood and building materials into the nest. Whilst he is putting down the materials his eyes caught on your form, sitting by your dock with your cheeks puffed full of food. He smiled and waved then make a small jog towards you.
He introduced himself and apologize in advance if any of his model-building activity bothered you. You waved him off saying you spend your time teaching swimming to kids anyway. After giving him some of the fruits you eat, he excused himself and walks back towards Al Haitham's house //creak// well..until he stepped on a board on your dock that is loose. His architect side just crouches down and examines your dock, then offers you a free repair of your dock, oh he doesn't take no for his service alright.
Well, now there he is, on your dock doing a repairman job. Every time you want to help, he just told you to sit down all pretty. Just a feast for his eyes.
It is not just the dock he fixed. Even the decoration of your nest-exterior or interior- he gives suggestions and recommendations. Hell, he goes as far as making some bookshelves for you. In return, you listened to his rants about his roommate and offered him food since both of you has similar diet. Sometimes Al Haitham or Layla join in with the two of you.
Isn't he a creative man? he is able to turn the shed feathers into a dreamcatcher, keychain, and even earrings. Your white feathers and his brown-to-goldish one really give an elegant aesthetic. The thing you didn't know is that he has another pair of earrings from your feathers. He doesn't want to wear it since he will not hear the end of it from Al Haitham, plus it may make you uncomfortable although you have shown appreciation to all his crafts, even the small little things he made to your nests.
Well, for now, Kaveh can only help you with decorating your nest, next time, he will make sure to build a nest fit for you both together.
Fischl {Corvus/Raven}
(Note: I wrote this with platonic implications in my head, I am 22 and writing romantic stuff for her feels illegal to me// Oz and Fischl is like apes to human (totally different but has similarity))
Quite the eccentric one, isn't she? Mysterious, all-dark, and how she talks are all out of your dictionary, no worries, her loyal friend, Oz, is your saviour in communicating with her.
You knew her from your fellow swimming teacher, Mona, which Fischl often picks up after work. Whilst waiting for Mona packing up, you hit a conversation with her..which was...unique you can say. She spoke so politely and formally that you didn't know how to respond. Oz was there to translate her words (or simplify) and even then with him, you can //barely// hold onto a conversation with her.
Although she likes speaking in another' language' when you talk to her, her quirky personality and roleplaying with Oz always brighten up your day. Even if Mona can't clock in for the day, Fischl still go there to visit you. You often stay behind to make sure all kids got picked up by their parents and then enjoy the pool all by yourself, usually Fischl would take off her shoes and dangles her feet in the water whilst chatting with Oz and you.
Do you know how ravens remember the faces of people who feed them? Yeah, Fischl often payback your good deed 10 times bigger than what you have done. Like how you offered her some of your fist-sized bread whilst waiting for Mona and the next time you guys meet she gave you a whole-ass pie in return.
Her raven traits also showed up in her collecting shiny trinkets. The urge to hoard shiny things seems to override everything in her brain. She would stop and impulsively walk towards any shiny stuff she see and buy it, sometimes she and Oz would chatter about the trinkets collection with you-from delighted caw to sad croak from not being able to own any valuable stuff she saw.
You once asked her 'what's the best thing you have ever lied your eyes on?". Her light green eyes widened at your question, her hand went up to her chin and she thinks-even Oz made the same gesture, eye closed and humming. Fischl then answered, "Too precious that if I tell you, I'm afraid I will lose them." You giggled, amazed at her mystic answer. You express your curiosity to one day be able to see the thing she is talking about.
Must be so valuable and precious that she won't show it to you, huh? Well, it's not like she won't...But how does she show you to yourself?
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sterredem · 7 days
Text
She’s real!?
Charles Leclerc x reader
Face claim:
Summary: Charles has said he has a girlfriend for a few years now. But the longer people hasn’t seen her the more they think they he made her up. Until they are proven wrong
Word count: -
Warning: fluff, rushed, maybe some spelling mistakes.
A/N: the ending was ruched cause I am working on something bigger. But This has been in my draft for weeks so I wanted to put it out before the big thing.
Please interact or give feedback🫶🫶 it helps a lot
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Charles knew that he was lucky. He had an amazing girlfriend, his dream job, great friends, enough money so that he could last a lifetime, fans that supported him and a family that loved him.
But not everyone believed that he had all that. It may sound a bit weird because they where all facts. …right?
Well not every on of them. The first one the girlfriend one. That one wasn’t. He claimed he has one. And he always brings her up, for 3 years now. And you may think ‘well why don’t people believe him then?’ Well that can be answered quite easily.
No one has seen her yet. Well not no one because his family and his closes friends have. But they have never been seen public, and if they did see her they didn’t know it because they don’t know who she is and how she looks. They know there is someone, just not how she looks, what she does or what her name is.
And that is why people don’t believe him. Even some of his close friends and colleagues don’t. His team doesn’t even believe him.
And that’s all because they wanted to wait with going public. They wanted to wait because Y/n was really busy with her school work and Charles was travelling the world for formula 1. They did live together in his house in Monaco. But they didn’t see each other that often. But they still managed to keep it private.
And they do want to make it public. But in the first year that they where together they decided to keep it quiet, and when they where in their second year, she was really busy with school and being in her year before her exams she needed to study a lot. And then with him travelling the world and having a lot of trouble with Ferrari they still didn’t have the time. And now in their third year together, she was in her last year of school and studying a lot and him starting the season again. They still didnt find the time to go public.
And when they did find the time they where together and enjoying the privacy they had. So they decided to not hard launch yet and just torture the fans and public with corny soft launches.
And while they enjoyed the privacy they had. Charles did find it annoying that his friends and fans didn’t believe him. And he tried everything, but he will prove that she is real. Even if it will cost their privacy.
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When Charles walken in the paddock alone… again, people stared looking and asking questions. A bit teasing of course.
And when it was media day there were a few questions about his ‘girlfriend’ but he successfully dodged them all. Not that he didn’t want to talk about her. But his media team said that it was better to not answer them, and he talked to Y/n about it and she said that it if came up he could talk about her. But just not randomly saying stuff.
So as promised he kept quite about their relationship. And when Fp1 and 2 rolled around it was still going great.
Well besides the teasing comments from his colleagues and even his team.
And when qualifying came around it was going really great. He started on 5th place, with was not the best but still good.
But then Race day came and he was as pretty excited. He started on a good place and Carlos was back again.
He ignored it for now and talked with his engineer for the last time before the race.
Before he got in his car he checked his phone one last time to see y/n has wished his good luck, he smiled a bit at that. But when he looked up again he saw that Carlos shot him a knowing look.
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After Charles was done at Australia he got on a plane. When he was in the airport he saw his girlfriend. He ran up to her and hugged her. After not seeing her for a few days he had missed her.
“Hey amour, I missed you” he said in her hair while hugging her.
“Hey love, I missed you too. So much” she said looking up at him smiling. What they didn’t notice is Joris taking pictures (not that they would mind).
“Would you want to go home or walk around a bit?” She asked with a slight smile while looking in his eyes.
“I think it would be fun to walk around wouldn’t it?” He asked while putting a bit of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah it would. Come on we should get to the car.” She said while grabbing his hand. “Hey guys good too see you.” She said addressing the other people that where with her boyfriend (and a few of the little people that knew about them and believed it).
“Yeah yeah. Good too see you too y/n/n. Could you just keep the PDA down or something?” Joris said reading a bit.
“Oh sure, I will just keep down being with my boyfriend after no one believes we are together and not seeing each other for a few days. You know you are lucky, you get to be with his all the time.” She said jokingly.
“Yeah yeah whatever.” Joris said while smiling at the couple. They really where something.
“Where do you guys want to go?” She asked looking at Charles again.
“We could just walk around the city and maybe catch the sunset, no?” Charles said while they all walked to the car.
“Yeah that would be fun.” She said opening the back door. “Who wants to drive!” She asked specifically to the other two boys not wanting Charles to drive with his parking skills.
“I could drive, Andrea so you want to go home? I can drop you off and give the lovebirds some time to catch up. ” Joris said.
“Oui, s'il vous plaît.” Andrea said while getting in the passenger seat. (Yes please.)
After dropping Andrea off at his home and walking around the city for a few hours they decided to go to a field to watch the sunset.
“It is so pretty.” Y/n said while looking at the sunset.
“Yeah it is.” He said looking at her. Admiring her.
A few hours later they decided to go hand and hang out there. Joris was with them for a bit longer after deciding to go home too.
Once it was just them they cuddled un in bed and talked for a bit longer.
“Hey Charlie I have a question.” Y/n said once the conversation dialed down a bit.
“What is that Belle?” He said looking- no more admiring her.
“Would you want to go public? And if when?” She asked playing with his hair.
“Of course I would want to go public. And whenever we are ready.” He said kissing his head.
“What if I just come to the paddock and surprise everyone. And we just randomly hard launch?” She asked looking at him.
Charles looked at her thing about it. “It would be fun wouldn’t it?” He asked smiling at her with a little smirk.
“Should we?” She asked him.
“We cou wait a few races, maybe chose a good one. We could stir up some thing. Maybe soft launch some?” He asked her now being a lot more serious then before when they just joked around and talked a bit.
“That would be fun.”
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After Y/n postet that on her story a lot of people begin to notice. Especially because Joris was posted. So when people begin to put everything together they where shocked.
So with now people beleving Charles Y/n could finally be at an race. And that happened. And people loved it.
The drivers where shocked that she was real, so where the fans and the people that worked their.
But they where all happy for them
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1K notes · View notes
yxami · 6 months
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I forgot this was in my drafts for awhile but 👩‍🍳
desc: yandere chef x gn reader, nothing too yandere just small signs of obsession, nothing weird going on with the food either dw
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Yandere chef who whips up the most mouth drooling dishes you’ve ever seen and smelt. It’s almost too good to eat when it looks so delicious. Are you really allowed to destroy this plate with your greed and hunger?
You ponder, staring at the dish on whether to compliment with your words or actions.
While you stared at the beautifully made soup, you make your friend stand in ridden anxiety. He’s wondering whether you like it or not, he’s always cooked for you like this, so why aren’t you eating it?
Maybe it was too ugly to eat, or unappetizing! He could feel his cheeks heat up from embarrassment at the possible answer of you finding his food disgusting. He would’ve ended his career at any second if you found one distasteful thing about his cooking.
He can’t just let you consume something you wouldn’t like, that would go against his morals!! He has to feed you only the most appetizing things, how else would he prove himself as someone perfectly fit in being your future husband who would cook all your meals.
So when his fingers extend to reach for your bowl, he’s surprised with the sight of you slurping a mouthful of the soup, he could tell you enjoyed it by your widened pupils and growing grin.
“Ah, do you like it? I was beginning to think you didn’t…” He mumbled his last few words, flustered that he had mistaken your lengthy pause as a detestable silence against your food.
“It’s amazing!” Your throat bobbed as the liquid traveled down your throat, still tasting the flavors as it sat on your tongue.
He let out a large sigh of relief that he had no clue he was even withholding.
“I’m glad..” The sweat glistening on his forehead showed his stressed mood that washed away a few moments ago, just from your words. Without fail, he paid close attention to you every single moment he was able to use. He’s always desired to be someone that you could rely on to understand you.
If not him then who? He’d rip at every square inch of his skin and let it burn for hours at a time before he’d allow another person to take his place.
“So, do you think I should serve it to my boss? He wants me to make a new dish for the upcoming season, since it’s going to get even busier” He wrapped his digits around the chair before pulling it to sit down on, plopping right next to you where he could view your expression as you ate. His favorite thing to do.
“Yeah! It’s really good, he’s gonna love this, especially since he likes spicy dishes, doesn’t he?” You look up at him for his response, a questioning tone left in the air before he did.
He’s exhilarated to know that you pay attention when he rambles to you about different things, but this was about his boss. Why did you have to remember something about that skeeze? He hates it when you mention other people it makes him so envious, and he knows it’s a bad habit.
“Hm.. yeah, he does.” He dryly responds, leaving your question somewhat discarded with how he hardly tried to respond to it. You immediately noticed his tone and made eye contact instead of looking at your bowl.
“What’s up? You seem down all of the sudden” His shoulders tensed up at your question, not realizing he had been so obvious with his jealousy, how embarrassing…
“Nothing! Just worrying about a few things, you know how I am” He chuckles, trying to distract you from your curiosity by feeding you like he always did at least once throughout your hangouts.
“Are you su—” Your tongue was softly forced to taste beef and a spicy mixture held by the spoon. You cough a bit at the suddenness, leaving him worried if he was too hasty with feeding you.
“Sorry, I probably should’ve warned you” He looks meek at your expression, wondering if you were upset.
“It’s fine, I just didn’t expect it, here you try some, you never eat what you cook” You pick up a spoonful with a small block of cooked meat on it, telling him to open his mouth and he obediently listens.
“Maybe it needed some more lemon juice, but I think it turned out well” He goes on his phone to change a few things about the recipe, showing how critical he was of his own craft.
“I think it’s good, you shouldn’t change anything in my opinion” You slurp up some more, looking at him while he typed on his phone. “Yeah you’re right” He quickly changed his opinion solely because you voiced yours, immediately putting his phone down.
He couldn’t hide away how much he valued your perspective, if you told him that a solid and liquid were the same thing then he’d stupidly nod along like an obedient puppy.
“How about I get started on dinner? You do plan to stay right?”
1K notes · View notes
lipringlrh · 8 months
Text
give you a show | LN4
summary: when your roommates that good looking it's hard not to stare
pairings: roommate!lando norris x fem!reader
an: not posted in a little (sorry) but i actually have a lot in my drafts but i’m grouping them together so i need to finish them all off before i post them :)
word count: 800
warnings: none i don’t think
feedback and reblogs appreciated !!
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You hadn't been roommates with Lando very long, only a few weeks, and each day you couldn't tell whether you were regretting it or enjoying it more each day. Today included both.
You opened the door to your apartment only an hour later than you left after picking up a few things you needed. You quickly took your shoes off by the door and headed further inside, announcing a quick, "I'm home," as you led your jacket down on the top of a chair, a bad habit both you and Lando formed, but it was just easier.
"Kitchen," a reply came from your left.
You headed towards the kitchen door, briefly pausing as you stepped inside before recomposing yourself and carrying on. You sat on a bar stool seat in the corner of the room, Lando in perfect view, before unconsciously taking your phone out.
You weren't focused on it at all, not when Lando was standing there, looking like that. His body was faced sideways away from you and his hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions, but he still pulled it off well. Grey sweatpants hung off his hips very lowly and he wasn't wearing a shirt at all. He was either chopping some food or mixing something - you weren't sure, you weren't focused on what he was doing anyway.
A few minutes pass, he's moved around a bit but always returning to the same place no matter what he's doing. You weren't really sure what he was doing but you weren't complaining. The more he seemed to stand there, the more his arms seemed to flex too. You were loving it, completely unaware of how obvious you were, or what you were meant be to doing, you couldn't think straight anyway.
You were too concentrated on him and his arms that you didn't hear him call your name the first time - or the second. It was only the third time he said it that it knocked you out of your daze. Your eyes met his face again, tracing over every detail. Luckily he wasn't looking at you, you thought, he was still focused on whatever he was doing.
"You've been watching that for an awful long time," he spoke, a smirk taking over his features. He was right, you realised. Looking at the phone, you noticed you'd opened tiktok and had just been letting the same video play on loop since you sat down.
You stutter for a moment, thinking of an excuse. "I was reading the comments." You said, lying through your teeth way too obviously.
His smirk never faltered, instead just grew, "took you a while to tell me that. Don't worry, I don't mind when you stare."
You didn't really know how to answer that so you just stayed quiet, your eyes still trained on his face as he turned around and stepped much closer to you.
He was right in front of you now, the only thing separating you was the marble of the kitchen bar worktop.
"What? You think I didn't notice? I cut up way more salad than I'd need in a week, waiting for you to notice." He grinned, putting his arms on the counter and moving his face down to the same height as yours and ever so slightly closer.
"So you were giving me a show?" You reply before you have any time to think about it. You watch as he falters at your response, giving yourself a little ego boost. You cock your head to the side, almost as if you're challenging him for a reply.
He quickly gains his compose back, brushing off the slight embarrassment of you getting him flustered - it isn't the first time but it's the most obvious.
"Well, when there's a pretty girl in front of you, always." He whispers as though it's obvious, in an attempt to again fluster you more than how you flustered him.
"So you think I'm pretty?" You try to hide your grin but fail miserably. Lando also fails to hide his when he sees yours.
"Very much so," he smiles back, moving a hand up to brush some hair off of your face. "Now," he says, slapping his hands down on the counter and flexing slightly, "what kind of roommate would I be if I didn't give you a full show? Anything else you'd like to watch me do?" he says, almost playful, almost serious, liking the idea of being ogled at by you quite nice.
"Well there's a watermelon in the fridge," you tease, tracing your hand down the prominent veins in his arm.
He smirks, watching your hand in motion, "perfect." He doesn't move though, he stays there, absorbed in the way your hand touches his arm.
"Get to it!" you joke, watching as he moves instantly towards the fridge.
In his rush, he doesn't forget to turn back and give you a cheeky wink, followed by a "yes, ma'am."
feedback + reblogs appreciated and requests are open :)
2K notes · View notes
readerthatreadsss · 7 months
Text
Worth The Wait | Steven Grant
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(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)
Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader
Word Count: 6.2k
Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.
Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.
A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!
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"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−
Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.
He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.
Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.
You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.
"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"
You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.
Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.
But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.
He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.
"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.
You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.
"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.
"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.
"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.
"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.
"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"
"Yup."
Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.
You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.
"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.
You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.
When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.
He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.
"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.
"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.
Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"
"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."
Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.
"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.
"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.
"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.
Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."
You ignored his call for your attention.
"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.
"Yes I am−"
"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"
You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.
"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."
You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"
Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.
You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.
Steven's face fell. "What?"
"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."
Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.
You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.
Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.
Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.
"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.
"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.
A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.
Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.
It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.
And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;
Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.
Steven.
Steven.
Steven.
"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.
Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.
But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.
After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.
"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."
You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?
You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.
He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."
You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.
"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.
"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.
A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.
"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.
"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.
After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."
"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"
"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."
You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.
"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.
"Did you mean it?"
Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.
You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.
Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.
You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.
"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"
Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"
Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."
Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.
You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"
"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.
You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.
Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.
Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.
Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.
"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.
You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.
Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.
You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."
Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.
Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.
Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.
"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.
Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.
You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.
Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.
You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...
Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.
"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.
Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.
Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.
You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.
Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.
You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.
Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.
You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.
"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.
"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"
Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.
Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.
But for now, you really wanted to taste him.
Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.
"Are you sure you want to-"
"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"
Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.
"Please, please do," his response came soon after.
You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.
Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.
"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."
You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.
Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.
After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.
"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.
You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."
Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.
You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"
Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.
"What is it, Steven?"
The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."
You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.
"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.
Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."
You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.
"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.
You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.
Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."
You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.
Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.
"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.
Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.
And so, he eagerly dived into your core.
Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.
The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.
The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.
Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.
"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.
Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.
"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...
"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.
He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.
Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.
"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.
Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.
It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.
Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.
Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.
Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern
You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."
Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.
But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."
Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."
"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."
Steven couldn't even formulate a response.
"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.
Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.
"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.
He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."
You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.
Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.
You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.
"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.
He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.
Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.
You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."
Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.
You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.
"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.
"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.
Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.
"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.
Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.
His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.
Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."
"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.
"What?"
"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.
Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.
"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.
Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.
"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.
Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.
You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.
Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.
Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.
"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.
You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.
You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."
He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.
But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.
You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.
His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.
"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.
"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.
"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.
You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."
"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.
"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.
Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.
You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"
"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."
° ° ° ° ° ° ° °
WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.
So I really do hope you enjoyed it.
(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)
2K notes · View notes
twogyuu · 27 days
Text
[924]
pairing: vernon x fem!reader
prompt: a grabs ahold of b's hand/arm just as the latter starts to turn away/etc.
genre: fluff, (newly) established relationship
warnings: none
wc: ~1.1k
a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts for a hot minute-
. . . .
There's a sharp ache in the side of your neck that wakes you as you felt the weight underneath your head that starts to shift and rock. Wincing and grimacing at the discomfort, you groggily try to sit up, pushing yourself into a sitting position, leveraging his thigh to steady yourself. Your death grip seems to awake your companion - what seemed like just slight adjustments in sleep evolving into a stretch and a satisfying crack of his back.
When your eyes finally adjust to the dimly lit room and you're slowly coming to your senses, you fumble for your phone on his scratched, oak coffee table with one of the legs loose, so it was a little wobbly. The overwashed navy blue fleece resting on your lap falls to the ground in the process, the table teetering ever so slightly as you slide the device off the surface.
12:43AM, reads the screen.
You inhale sharply, tossing your head back.
"What's up?" Vernon asks groggily, his voice husky with sleep. Using the heels of his hands, he adjusts himself to press up against the arm of the loveseat.
You chuckle half-heartedly, "We fell asleep watching TV." You gesture to the screen that had returned to the series list, the same preview playing over and over again in the upper right hand corner.
"Oops," Vernon mumbles lightly. He reaches for his water bottle and takes a quick swig to clear his throat.
"I should go," you tell him, starting to rise from your seat. You didn't think twice about it, to be frank. Yes, you've been dating for a few months now, but staying over was anything short of natural. You bend over the side of the couch, starting to search for your coat and bag you had tossed haphazardly on the floor early. You can hear Vernon rustling on the couch. The friction of his jeans brushing against the patterned surface of the hand-me-down couch from Seungcheol, the springs creaking under his weight.
Though you feel nonchalant, Vernon feels like the moment is sand slipping through his fingers - it's going all too fast and he can't think straight, yet he's grasping for each and every piece like his life depends on it.
Vernon's hand latches onto your wrist, the warmth of his finger tips seeping into your skin, prompting you to pause in your search and look back to him. He's leaned over on his knees, his other free hand propping himself up. His mouth fell agape; the light from the screen danced in the reflection of his dark hazel eyes, innocent, but somewhat serious.
There's a beat that passes before he utters a soft, "Wait."
You don't answer, only giving him your full attention and looking at him expectantly for him to ask his question.
"Do you wanna stay over?" he asks, "It's late."
This takes you by surprise because you have never not left his place during darker hours of the night before. He usually drove you back himself if you hadn't driven over - or if the both of you were too tired, he'd help pay for an Uber back (only because you refused to let him pay in full).
You chuckle nervously, defaulting to what you know best: teasing.
"Aw," you coo, leaning over to be closer to him. You slip your wrist out of his hold to let your fingers intertwine with his loosely. You joke lightheartedly, "Only if you miss me."
He doesn't hesitate to reply: "I do."
Your tongue dries, the snarky rounds of teases lodging in your throat.
The way your mischevious smile falls and your eyes darting away from him while blinking rapidly is all Vernon needs to know you were affected.
That was the thing about Vernon - perhaps if it was anyone else, they might have fallen into a fluster with your question, or at best, banter back. However, it wasn't in Vernon's nature to flirt and joke in such fashion. Times like this reminds you of that this was part of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He catches you off-guard, his straightforward nature somehow managing to make you flustered and skittish. Whether it's intentional or not, he knows the ins and outs of your little default flirting games, getting you to tell him what you really wanted, rather than dancing around it. His intentions were always clear.
"Stay?" Vernon asks again, already pulling you away from your stuff.
"A-are you sure?" you stammer, "We haven't . . . done this before."
"I'm sure," he tells you firmly. Quickly, he adds to reassure you, "There's a first time for everything."
"I don't have my pajamas or anything," you argue weakly.
"You can borrow some of my sweats and t-shirts."
"Oh," you look away bashfully. It wasn't even a scandalous request, yet it still feels so intimate, it makes you shy.
He gives you a moment to collect yourself, before giving your hand a quick squeeze again.
"So?" he asks softly. "If you really feel that weird about it-"
"It's fine," you cut him off quickly. You let out a deep breath, not wanting this moment to slip out of your hands because you were being squeamish.
"You're nervous, aren't you?" he challenges. You don't bother to look at him, but you knew, he was grinning - you could practically hear the way his lips creak up into a wide smile at your fidgeting.
"I-I'm just . . . you know," your voice trails off, finally having enough courage to look up at him.
"I don't know, actually," Vernon pushes on.
He waits patiently for your answer. The moment growing more awkward as the seconds pass by. The antique clock Seungkwan got at the garage sale two blocks away ticking away in the background making it known that you were taking a rather long time to answer what was supposed to be a simple question.
"I'll stay," you finally relent quietly.
"Was it that hard to say?" He brushes his thumbs across your knuckles once before letting go. Indeed, you were equally straightforward when the time was right, but feelings, particularly romantic ones, weren't one of them. Heck, after almost three months of what he'd like to think was mutual pining, it took Wonwoo (voluntarily by his own will for the record - Vernon would never force you to do this) cornering you after work and personally delivering you hostage to Vernon at his apartment (a story for another time).
"Yes," you mumble.
He plants a chaste kiss on your temple. You could feel him smiling into it. "I'll go get you something to wear."
416 notes · View notes
j-onedrabbles · 6 months
Text
𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒎𝒚𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒏
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✧   PAIRING: BANG CHAN X FEM!READER ✧ PLOT: listened to STUCKINMYBRAINAGAIN by Chase Atlantic and decided i needed to write angst + anon requests: "Hi hi! Could I request a Channie comfort drabble/fic were the gf!reader starts to distance themselves from Channie because of a really believable dating rumor they found online involving him?" ✧   CW: fem!reader, overthinking, dating rumor, crying, unhealthy coping mechanisms (using alcohol to cope), themes of cheating (there is no actual cheating), reader is written to be of drinking age but age never mentioned, ✧   WC: 1.5K ✧   NOTE: this was kinda sitting in my drafts with a rough idea of a plot then i got an anon requests and it clicked so enjoy
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     It had to be a rumor. Right?
     Y/n scrolled through her Twitter, seeing her boyfriend trending wasn’t new but, curiously clicked it to see what he did this time. Only to find it was a dating rumor. 
     At first, she thought that Stay or div-1 caught them out on one of their dates but, as she scrolled, she found that it didn’t even involve her. It was another woman. Photos from afar— like most dating rumor photos were— but Y/n could believe this was her boyfriend and someone else, but it wasn't. Was it?
     Chan was friends with half the K-pop industry and she knew he had female friends. Could it be one of them? Maybe they were just hanging out?
     The longer she looked at the tag, the more her heart ached. Chan spent long hours at the studio working on music for 3RACHA and the kids. What if it wasn't music? Just an excuse to go out with someone else?
     The angel on her shoulder told her Chan would never. He was loyal. The best boyfriend anyone could ask for. But the devil was louder. 
    She got up from the couch and tried to busy herself with anything around the house. Chan had a packed week of schedules and had already told her he was going to crash at the dorms but he promised would text her when he had time—one week of not seeing him. 
     She couldn't even talk to the guys since they all had promotions to do. What if it was a staff member? She felt like she was going to be sick. Turning on their speaker and blasting a playlist— one without any songs her boyfriend had made, which was a hard feat.
     Cleaning the whole apartment while the random Spotify playlist played. She drowned out any noise in her head for as long as she could. Even made dinner for herself and turned on a movie. Silently eating as her phone pinged with a message. She looked at the screen to see the name.
Channie♡: hey baby, just got back to the dorms. How was your day? Y/n♡: okay. Just cleaned the apartment and made dinner. Channie♡: I’m glad you got something to eat love! Are you doing alright without me so far 😉 Y/n♡: yeah. The apartment feels a little empty though. Channie♡: I’m sorry baby 😣 I’m hoping this week goes by fast. I already miss you. Try and get some sleep tonight, okay? Y/n♡: You too. Talk to you later. Channie♡: Yeah, I’ll try and text you more throughout the day, yeah? I love you ❤️ Y/n♡: ily2
     Chan looked at the last text, he knew his girlfriend. She wasn’t one to abbreviate an “I love you”. Maybe she just wasn’t having a good day? Tired maybe? She did say she cleaned the whole apartment. He wished he could at least be with her at night but with all their promoting at the moment, it was just a little easier to stay with the kids at the dorms. He’d check in with her when he woke up, maybe send her some food tomorrow.
     But he noticed the time between her responses got more and more spaced out and cut down to one or two-word answers. He tried asking her what was wrong but she always said she was fine. It was at the end of the week when one of the guy's managers told him about the dating rumor. 
     He immediately thought the same as her. Their relationship was caught by fans or div-1. The staff showed him the photos and immediately knew it wasn’t them. Yeah, the guy had the same height and build as him, dressed similarly, and had his face hidden. He thought it was him too for a moment but it was the girl he was with. Complete opposite of Y/n. 
     He took a closer look at the guy. “That's not me or Y/n. How long has this been out?”
     “All week. We knew it wasn’t either of you but we wanted your confirmation.”
     All week? The same amount of time Y/n had been acting off. “Fuck,” he sighed
     “We can put out a statement denying it and announcing you and Y/n’s relationship,” The manager suggested 
     “Let me talk to her first. I think she already knows about the rumor.” Chan was thankful it was the end of the day and he finished the last schedule. 
     He hurried to make his way back home, calling his girlfriend along the way. No answer. 
     “Hi, you’ve reached Y/n L/n. I can’t come to the phone right now but please leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.”
     “Hi, baby. I’m on my way home. We need to talk when I get there. I love you.”
     Y/n listened to the voicemail but did nothing. One week had her spiraling. She ended up taking out one of their bottles and pouring herself a drink. Just wanting the thoughts to stop at this point. 
     She didn’t know how much she had actually been drinking, just that her world was getting blurry a bit. She didn't even register the front door opening.
     “Y/n?” Chan’s voice called
     He looked around the living room before spotting her in the kitchen. Both kept eye contact before Y/n broke down. Tears slipped from her eyes as she put the glass on the counter. 
     “Baby,” Chan ran over to her and pulled her into his arms.
     “Is there someone else Chan?” Y/n said through tears.
     He noticed the bottle of alcohol and felt worse. She’d known about it all week and said nothing. Thinking worse to the point of drinking. 
     “There’s no one else baby. Let’s get you some water and sit down, okay?”
     “Is she an idol? One of the staff?”
     God his heart broke hearing that. He should have checked Twitter or social media sooner. Slowly he sat her on the floor and quickly grabbed some water from the fridge for her. He sat down across from her and soothed her tears as best he could before getting her to drink the water.
     “Can you look at me, baby?” Chan asked softly
     Y/n looked at him, sniffling as she hugged her knees to her chest.
     “Let’s go take a nap okay? Sober up a bit and then talk. Okay?”
     “Okay…”
     Chan reached his hands towards her to help her up and walk with her to the bedroom. “How much did you drink?”
     “Don’t know. Just wanted to stop thinking about the rumor,” Y/n said as he got her under the covers. “Things are a bit blurry.”
     “Get some sleep for now. I’ll be here when you wake up and then we can talk.”
    Y/n sniffled and wrapped her arms around him, trying to keep him close. Chan did the same. Not wanting to let her go at the moment. Y/n let his warmth lull her to sleep.
     Both ended up falling asleep till morning. Not intending to but that's what happened. Chan woke up first but refused to get out of bed. First time in a week he got to wake up next to his girlfriend and he wasn’t missing out on anything. 
     He ran his hand through her hair as he looked down at her sleeping form on his chest. Slowly she started the stir, waking to her pretty boyfriend looking at her with stars in his eyes.
     “Good morning baby.”
     “Morning,” she grumbled, cuddling into him more, “I’m sorry.”
     “It’s okay baby. I almost believed it too.”
     “Doesn't excuse me for accusing you of cheating. Should have talked to you when I saw it.”
     “Hey. The company didn't even tell me till yesterday and I knew you had already seen it. I know you get in your head sometimes but, next time you see a dating rumor about me, talk to me.”
     “Don't want any more rumors about you.”
     “They asked me if I wanted to confirm our relationship. Think that’d keep the dating rumors at bay.” Chan smiled and tilted her face up to him, placing a quick kiss on her lips. “If you don't want to, that's fine baby. But I love you either way. You’re the only one I see a future with.”
     Y/n teared up a bit hearing him say that. She cupped his cheeks and pulled him back into a kiss. Chan smiled and pulled her closer to him, moving his lips in sync with hers before pulling away and resting his forehead against hers.
     “Tell Stay about us. I’m okay with the world knowing about us.” Y/n told him
     “Think you're just being possessive baby,” Chan joked.
     “Says you,” Y/n laughed at him
     “I’ll call them later. Right now I need to make up for not being around for a week.”
     Chan kissed her again and rolled her onto her back, smothering her in kisses and cuddles.
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M. LIST ✧ TIP JAR
T A G S ✧ @soulphoenix1618 @hanniemylovelyquokka @hyuneline @scarletbedlam @lillithathecat @cosniffee @caravm @queen-in-the-shadows @moonlight-the-writer @skzhoes @ultimatestayandminoronce @watermelon2319 @poody1608 @iadorethemskz @goblinracha @weakforskz @scallywag1299 @2mins-world @iloveksmohsomuch @stickycrusadecollective @lacie220900 @your-platonic-gay-lover @lvlnijiro @smally97 @lynlyndoll @bbokari711 @liknws @nicora04 @hrskt @lookitsjess @5starlee @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @mini-mews @red-airhead @minhwa @soupbinlily @caitlyn98s @alex--awesome--22 @emyferra08 @yeetmehome @hyunjinswifeee @greyyeti @beautifulcolorgarden @ylixbok @tinyelfperson @mixtape-racha @lovesunshinefelix @princelingperfect @slay-and-gay @the-sweetest-rose
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soulessjourney · 3 months
Text
Sick
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Paring: Astarion x fem!DurgTavReader
Word count: 766
Summary: The moment you let out a cough in camp Astarion turns to his necormancy book for answers.
Warnings: OOC Astarion, Humor, Astarion doesn't know how to comfort sick Tav, Astarion believes Tav is dying, fluff
A/N: This one is just a tiny little humorus work that I had sitting here in my drafts, I thought the idea was cute as we apprach out spring months.
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The changing of seasons was the one time you dreaded being alive. Transitioning from winter to spring meant a massive shift in temperature, often resulting in catching a cold due to the sudden change. Seated on the ground between Shadowheart and Halsin, you observed as he taught you the art of carving a small wooden duck. A few feet away, Astarion was engaged in a lively argument with Gale about who knows what, while Lae’zel tirelessly sharpened her sword against the stone wheel for the fifth time that day.
“Gently slide the dagger over this portion of the wood; the trick here is to apply pressure and scrape for a smooth outcome. Now, give it a try,” he instructed, handing the small wooden figure to Shadowheart.
Pulling your knees to your chest, you watched her work, following Halsin's guidance. Her tongue poked out from the corner of her mouth, a sign of her focused concentration. An itch filled your throat, and you cleared it a few times to relieve the sensation. A cough escaped you, catching Astarion's attention as he turned to look at you. “What was that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
Raising a brow in confusion, you glanced at the others, only to receive shrugs in response. “What was what?” you asked, shifting on the ground. Another cough slipped past you, and Astarion quickly approached, shoving his finger in your face.
“That! You never cough, Darling. Are you dying?” A laugh sounded from Shadowheart, and Halsin shot Astarion a confused glance before looking at you. A fit of coughs overtook you, causing you to lean over in an attempt to stop them. “You are dying. Out of everything we have been through, I cannot let this be the one thing to take you out,” Astarion declared, rushing towards his tent.
Once your coughing fit ceased, you followed his movements, watching as he tore apart his tent in search of something. Shadowheart leaned over and nudged you gently. “Who's going to tell him that you simply have a cold?” she whispered, keeping her eyes focused on him. Halsin, from the other side, laughed and took the dagger and wooden duck from Shadowheart.
“I've never seen Astarion care so much. What is he looking for, anyway? If you were dying, I could've simply helped you,” Halsin remarked, shrugging. Everyone turned their attention to Halsin, nodding in agreement.
Just a few moments later, a loud ‘Ahah!’ echoed through the camp, and everyone's heads snapped towards Astarion, their eyes widening. Gale stepped forward, holding out his hand. “Now, why did you pull that out? She's not dead, Astarion. There is no need to bring out the necromancy book,” Gale said, eyeing the book in Astarion's hands as the stone placed in the center of the cover glowed brightly.
Astarion scoffed as Gale continued trying to convince him to hand over the book. “I know she’s not dead, but if by chance she does die, I can simply bring her back,” he stated, flashing Gale a confident smile before shifting his gaze to you. “Don’t worry, my sweet. I would love you even if you were undead.” Your jaw dropped open as you shot to your feet, placing your hands on your hips.
“My gods, Astarion, I’m not dying. Put the damn book down; I just have a cold,” you snapped, narrowing your eyes as you met his stare. “If I were dying, I don’t think I would be standing right now.” Shadowheart stood, sensing a shift within you. Whether it was from standing too quickly, being sick, or both, black dots filled your vision, and you felt yourself collapse to the ground. Shadowheart dove to catch you, breaking your fall.
Astarion looked between the group of your friends before flipping to a page in the book and beginning to read a spell from its contents. A chorus of “No” echoed from the group as everyone lunged to tackle Astarion, preventing him from reading any further.
Karlach walked up to the camp, a deer hanging over her shoulder, observing her groupmates tackling Astarion, Gale prying the book away from him, and you lying on the ground a few feet away from everyone. Dropping the deer to the ground beside her, she caught the group’s attention. “What in the nine hells is going on?” she shouted, her eyes staying trained on you. “Well, don’t stand there; bring her back!”
The group groaned as they scrambled to keep Astarion from grabbing the book again. “She’s not dead!” they simultaneously yelled, the sound of their voices bouncing off the rocks around them.
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