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miraclewoozi · 4 months

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DO YOU DREAM OF ME? - c.hs

the first time you kiss your soulmate, you’ll open your eyes to a world of colour. the problem? vernon hates the thought that he might pull away from you and still see in monochrome. or, five times he wanted to plant one on you, and the one time you beat him to it.

pairing ; vernon x gn!reader. content ; all the tropes. 5 times fic. soulmate au. slight college au if you squint. f2l. fluff, some angst. pining. one (1) hint of suggestiveness if u squint. MINORS STILL DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT. content notes ; mentions of reader having a(n unnamed) partner & thereafter, going through a breakup due to said partner cheating. reader is maybe implied to be shorter than him but hopefully not too obviously or frequently. alcohol is mentioned & is a key theme in scene #3. pov switch for the final part (necessary for logistical reasons.) PLEASE let me know if i've forgotten anything. w/c ; 9.6k note ; welcome to thee most self indulgent fic ever lmao. i hope u enjoy this slight break away from what i usually post here (as if my entire brand isn’t writing losers in love. ANYWAY) -- this was very fun and a little bit special for me! <3

“What was your first kiss like?”

Initially, Vernon swears he just didn’t hear you right. It’s dark up here, where you’re hiding away from a party on the roof of his university accommodation and he’s starting to get tired. There’s some sort of siren wailing away in the distance to his left, and on the street below, a gaggle of freshmen are cackling as they walk past the building. His ear closest to you is currently listening to your favourite song.

All the signs suggest that he simply got it wrong.

But he doesn’t know if he believes those signs, especially not seeing as when he looks over at you, you’re staring pointedly up at the stars overhead. He doesn’t doubt that you’re giving yourself an ache in your neck in the process, too.

“Hmm?” He asks, taking out the earphone that connects him to you. The other one is still nestled away in your ear and he reaches to gently pull it away. “What was that?”

You still don’t look at him, but you do repeat yourself. Quietly. “What… was your first kiss like?”

“Oh.”

He was right.

“You don’t have to tell me,” you hurry to say, hugging his jacket tighter around yourself to block out the cold air that blows across the rooftop. He shrugged it off and told you to take it the very moment your teeth started chattering — almost an hour ago now. His arms are bare, shoulders and biceps only covered by a t-shirt so thin it’s practically sheer, but he isn’t cold. He’s always run hotter than most. “Sorry.”

He nudges you with his knee, silently telling you that you don’t need to apologise. He doesn’t mind — you just caught him off guard; Vernon hasn’t given this any thought in a long time, and he has to really put his mind to coming up with an answer. It was forever ago — when he was eleven or twelve, maybe, with his first ever girlfriend. They dated for a whole two and a half weeks. He doesn’t know if it really counts: the kiss was a dare, after all.

“Kinda…” He starts, trying to follow the line of your sight, wondering if he can find the exact stars you’re looking at. “She’d just put this weird lipgloss on. It was real tingly. And like, neither of us knew what we were doing? So it… got everywhere. I think I ended up swallowing some, I don’t know. My mouth felt weird after. Thought I was having an allergic reaction.”

You laugh softly at him. “I think that would put me off for the rest of my life,” you say.

“It almost did,” he chuckles. You hum at him and lean back on your elbows, leaving Vernon more than a little bit confused. He readjusts his hold on his knees, bringing them closer to his chest as he tilts his head down at you in your new position.

“…why?” He asks, just as you close your eyes and take a deep inhale of the cool air.

You just shrug. “I guess I just… wondered.”

He nods, and it’s his turn to fall short of a response, but that’s okay. You’ve known each other for too long for these silences to feel uncomfortable. He grew up with you. In fact, he’s reasonably sure he’s told you this story before. He must have done.

Then he realises, maybe he hasn’t. Because he doesn’t know the story behind yours, and maybe that’s just a line the two of you never came to crossing. He knows he told his other friends, back then, because he was the last one in his circle to have a first kiss and he felt like it made him more grown-up, or something. Naturally, he left out the more embarrassing details. But maybe you just told your other friends who weren’t him, and went on with your life. Maybe yours was just… normal.

Either way, he’s interested now. And there’s no time to ask like the present.

“What was yours like?” He asks, fiddling with the strap on his wristwatch. You don’t answer straight away; he doesn’t think anything of it, because neither did he, but when he’s still waiting for you to speak a small eternity later, he prompts you again. “Hey, it can't have been worse than mine.”

You snort.

“You’ll laugh at me,” you say, shaking your head. Vernon furrows his brows and drops his legs flat, twisting to one side to look at you.

He doesn’t know where you’d get that idea from, but he’s… almost a bit offended by it?

“No I won’t,” he tells you softly. Maybe at first, he might’ve laughed with you, if your story happened to be as dumb as his own. But not at you. Never at. Not when he’s been the butt of the joke in too many friendship circles, for about as long as he can remember.

You take a shallow breath, pursing your lips. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s not…” you start to say, before you clear your throat and try again, this time heading in a different direction. “I don’t know. It’s dumb, I guess.”

“Don’t make me come down there,” Vernon threatens playfully, poking you in your side. You squirm, giggling despite yourself, despite the serenity of the sanctuary you two have found, despite the fact that you, too, were on the edge of falling asleep before your question came out of nowhere.

He pokes you again, and again, and then starts to tickle your ribs instead. You squeal, swatting his hands away to no avail and you move to sit up, grabbing him by the forearms to physically make him stop. The grin on Vernon’s face is wide and heart-shaped. A warm feeling spreads through him: it has everything to do with the sweet sounds of your slowly dissolving laughter.

You sit cross-legged across from each other like this for a moment or two. Your knees are touching. Your hands move down his arms until you’re holding him firmly by the wrists. Your eyes lock together: his crease with the sheer force of his boyish smile, while yours are narrowed, daring him to try and wiggle free and attack you again.

He doesn’t, but for the first time ever, he’s struck with the urge to do something maybe more scary.

The urge to just… lean in to you.

It makes his heart do a backflip, in a way that it hasn’t done since he had his last crush. His head goes empty, and he forgets what he was even asking you before: the only thoughts he can muster are ones regarding what your lips taste like, whether they’re half as soft as they look, if you’d lightly touch his shoulder or his arm or his chest or his cheek—

Do you smile when you kiss?, he wonders. Do you sigh? Do you—

“I’ve never kissed anyone,” you answer, looking away now and letting go of him. He’s gone so loose in the moments since you grabbed hold of him that when you’re not supporting their weight, his arms fall like two cinder blocks onto his knees.

True to his word, he doesn’t laugh. He’s surprised by your revelation, sure, but in no way humoured; actually, he feels a little saddened by it, for a reason he can’t put his finger to. He ends up not saying anything, just biting the inside of his cheek; he wants to ask why, but knows maybe that’s a bit of a dick move, and if it’s something you’re sensitive about he doesn’t want to risk hurting you.

But he’s watched people fawn over you for years, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever been short of attention from those who have thought you were attractive. So it can’t be that you’ve been lacking in chances? Surely?

“I thought… maybe I should save it,” you go on to explain. Your hands keep busy by playing with a thread at the cuff of his jacket sleeve, wrapping it around one finger until the skin beneath it pinches before you unravel it again.

“Save it?” He asks. You nod your head.

“For when I thought I’d found them.” You pause, swallowing hard. “Like I said, it’s s—.”

“No it’s not,” Vernon says abruptly, shaking his head. He holds onto you now, one hand slipping around your back until it rests on the shoulder furthest away from him. You scoff. He squeezes you into his side. “Hey. It’s not stupid.”

He doesn’t like how this admission has, somehow, made his desire to kiss you stronger. He hates that he feels even more drawn to you, a magnet finally finding its opposing pole. It freaks him out a little. He’s never wanted to kiss anyone this badly.

Red button theory, he tells himself to try and get back on the straight and narrow. If you hadn’t said anything, none of this would be happening.

“It’s romantic,” he says finally, swiping his thumb in small motions over the top of your shoulder. You nod, mumbling a ‘thank you’ (for what, he isn’t sure), and shiver. Vernon doesn’t know if that’s because of his proximity to you or because you’re finally starting to feel the cold. Either way, he takes the initiative to stand up and holds a hand out for you to take so he can tug you to your feet too. You get up with a little hop.

It’s… devastatingly cute.

“Where are we going?” You ask, brushing off your jeans before shoving your hands into the jacket’s pockets. He’s already on the retreat, walking backwards towards the door that took you up here.

“To get food,” he tells you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “That party was dead, anyway.”

It doesn’t cross his mind again until your twenty-first birthday.

He’s not your soulmate. He couldn’t be. The thought he had on the roof that autumnal night was little more than a passing fantasy; besides, he doesn’t have a thing for you. He doesn’t want to kiss you, or date you, or have you be his soulmate. The reason you work so well together is because you’re just friends; he thinks you’d drive each other crazy if things ever went romantic between you. You bicker with him for sport. He drowns away hours at a time with his headphones clamped over his ears and forgets to answer your texts. It would be a nightmare.

Not that he’s ever thought about all that. Not actively, or even passively. Not when he should be listening to college lectures instead, for example. Not awake, nor in his dreams. He hasn’t. Not once.

He swears.

“You can save it ‘til tomorrow, if you want.”

Vernon bounces his leg nervously, fidgeting with the edge of your comforter as you sit on the floor in front of him, styling your hair for your party. He arrived half an hour ago while you were still waltzing around in your bathrobe, holding a small, neatly wrapped box in both of his hands. It’s several degrees too warm in your bedroom. He feels a bead of sweat roll down his back as you grumble what seems to be a threat at a strand that won’t cooperate. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice his discomfort. (If you do, he’s grateful that you don’t say anything.)

“But it’s my birthday today,” you pouted, taking the box from him. “Let me finish getting ready, then I’ll open it. Come on.”

His wrist still aches with the pressure you held onto him with as you dragged him up the stairs. Your parents are away for the weekend and the house is all yours, so there’s a speaker blasting your favourite playlist full volume on your nightstand and there’s nobody to tell you to turn it down. He flits his attention between his phone and watching you, but he can’t fully concentrate on either; he’s too nervous that maybe you won’t like his gift, and he’s never been the type to splash out on birthday presents before but this… well, it burned a hole in his wallet, that’s for sure.

“Okay. Wait here,” you tell him as you push up off the floor, limping on the leg that had started to fall asleep thanks to the way you were sitting.

“All right,” he says back. As if he’d go anywhere, anyway.

You grab a hanger from inside your closet and scurry off down the hall to the bathroom. For the first time, Vernon feels like he can actually breathe. He drops his phone onto the comforter between his crossed legs and cradles his head in his hands, telling himself that he needs to get it together. You’ve never not liked anything he’s given you, and you’ve known him now for more birthdays than you haven’t.

Your friends said you’d love it. So did your mother, with a sparkle in her eye as she held it delicately in her fingers. He has nothing to worry about. It’s only you.

And yet—

“You’ll be honest if it looks bad?” You call from the other side of the door, interrupting how his lips move wordlessly in an endless mantra of self-reassurances.

Vernon snaps his head up and he clears his throat, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. “Aren’t I always?” He answers.

You click your tongue, evidently disagreeing, but you pull the handle and take a step into the room anyway. When you see him, he looks exactly as he did when you left, no trace of his anxieties anywhere to be seen on his face or otherwise.

When he sees you, he feels like the world could end any moment and he’d be okay with that.

His mouth runs dry and his eyes seem to be stuck open, unblinking, fixated on you in your all black outfit as you stand still as a statue with your hands behind your back. You cough quietly, waiting for some kind of a response other than a dumb stare, but it doesn’t come.

Eight seconds later… still nothing.

“Do you hate it?” you fret, because Vernon is a very good hype-man and you’ve never known him struggle to find something positive to say. “All right, uh— okay—”

“No!” He rushes, almost shouting in his urgency to assure you that that’s not the case at all. He scrambles up to his feet, taking a breath, and pushes a hand through his hair. He’s been growing it out lately, and he kind of hates how his fingers catch on a tangle even though he brushed it meticulously before he left his apartment. You keep telling him it looks good, though, so he hasn’t been to get it cut. “God, no. I’m sorry. You look amazing.”

It doesn’t sound like much to the untrained ear, but the warmth of his compliments comes less in the words he says and more in the sincerity he says them with. Your face softens, and Vernon can see the way the thoughts of changing into something else fizzle out behind your eyes. He takes a backwards step to try and tempt you further into your own bedroom, and you move in tandem with him, closing that space and coming better into the light.

“Wow,” he says, swallowing hard and looking you up and down. “I-… wow.”

It’s your turn to clam up, now. You look down at the floor, kicking at the carpet with your toes. “Shut up,” you say. “I’m not...”

“Yes, you are,” he protests, leaving no room for argument as he crosses his arms over his chest. “I don’t know who you’re trying to impress but… yeah, it’s gonna work.”

You walk past him with a scoff, barging against his shoulder on your way; he dramatically staggers to the side, rubbing at the impact site, laughing. When he faces you again, you’ve picked the gift up from the end of your bed and are moving to sit on the mattress yourself. Your eyes flicker between Vernon and the empty space in front of you. He takes the hint, settling back down with one foot tucked beneath him, the other still planted on your rug.

His heart shoots back up into his throat and he stares down at the box, licking over his lips and frowning at how dry they feel. He glances away, lifting a hand to his mouth, running his fingertips over his lips. What would they feel like pressed against yours? He thinks, and then he cringes again.

You misread his reaction and hesitate with your finger pressed underneath a strip of tape, tilting your head at him. “What’s going to jump out at me when I open this?”

“Nothing,” he says, rolling his eyes at you. “What do you take me for?”

“The kind of guy who puts glitter in birthday cards because he thinks it’s funny,” you retort, earning a click of his tongue.

“That was one time!”

“One time too many.”

“I swear,” he laughs, tight shoulders easing, both hands falling to his lap. “No sparkles, no loud noises, nothing jumpy. Cross my heart.“

You eye him a little suspiciously but eventually tug your finger beneath the wrapping and make the first rip in the paper, allowing you to tear into the gift after keeping Vernon on edge for almost an hour and a half. You peel it away and it falls to the bedsheets, in your hands now a small, square box not too dissimilar a shade to your comforter. You look from it, to him, and he thinks you notice how his cheeks are a little darker than they were before.

He nods at you once and you slowly pull it open. On a plush, velvety bedding sits an elegant, dainty bracelet. A small gemstone is set in the metal of the bar in the middle of the chain. You skim a thumb over it, your breath held.

“Vernon,” you murmur, tearing your eyes away from the bracelet to look at him. Now, even the tips of his ears have grown flushed, but you’re kind enough not to comment on it to avoid spoiling the moment you’re in. “This is…”

“The lady in the store said it was your birthstone,” he says, twiddling his thumbs. “I mean… I’m really just taking her word for it, ‘cause they all look the same to me, but—”

He’s interrupted as all of your weight topples against him, arms thrown around his neck in a hug. He hesitates a moment before he wraps his own around your waist, drops his head to your shoulder and he smiles wider than he thinks he ever has. “Happy Birthday,” he says, dragging his thumb up and down over your hip.

“Silly,” you scold him playfully, still pressing wholly against him and showing no signs of moving. Your voice sounds thick, a little like you’re tearing up, so Vernon squeezes you tighter.

“I know you are,” he chuckles. “But what am I?”

You swallow hard, finally now pulling away from the hug but sitting entirely too close for comfort, one knee pressing into the outside of his thigh.

Your surprise attack has left him dishevelled. With a quiet apology, your fingers innocently try to smooth everything back into place, but Vernon doesn’t hear you say you’re sorry. His pulse, thundering in his ears, drowns it out while also skipping a beat with each little touch. You’re not looking into his eyes as you shyly put him back to rights, too busy working to tame his — at the best of times — unruly hair.

He’s looking into yours though, and he can’t stop.

Your eyes, which dart all over to find strands out of place, so your hands can move them to where they ought to sit and lay them down flat. Your eyes, that drop down the length of his throat as you realign the neck of his t-shirt over his broad shoulders.

Your eyes: the ones crinkled at the corners as you pick the bracelet back up from your bed and admire it under your bedroom light. Your eyes, landing on his, finally, in a silent plea for help.

“The best?” you answer, now, extending your wrist to ask him to put it on you. He takes the chain from your fingers and unclasps it, slipping it beneath your hand and holding it in place.

“I know you are,” he says again, but it’s quieter now as he concentrates on trying to reconnect the two pieces. “But what am I?”

When he successfully fastens your gift onto your arm, he looks up to see your watery eyes still staring down at it. He decides this is the time to reveal part two of the surprise. Pulling up the sleeve of his t-shirt, he reveals his own wrist to you, and you now see there’s a matching chain hanging off it. A little stone set in the metal. His stone, presumably. You choke out a laugh around your tears, shaking your head.

“You got us friendship bracelets,” you giggle, holding your hand next to his and admiring them together. Your skin touches and he feels butterflies erupt in his stomach, which he hasn’t felt around you since…

He nods, breathing a chuckle too. “Yeah,” he says. His heart is pounding. “I guess I did. Is… that okay?”

“I love them,” you insist, leaning forward to affectionately press your lips to his cheek. “Thank you. It’s perfect.”

Your doorbell sounds downstairs and Vernon’s words die in his throat. Maybe that’s for the best, though; he’s got so much nervous energy rising up inside him and he’s scared it might accidentally force up something he’ll regret saying. You spring off the bed again, fussing in the mirror, and he watches you rush out the bedroom warbling about how you’re not ready for anyone to be here yet. It’s too early. What’s going on? Who is it?

He shifts his legs so both his feet are planted on the floor, letting out a breath he doesn’t remember sucking in.

I love them. Thank you, you said.

It’s perfect.

He groans when he stands up, too, tugging his sleeve back down as he starts to follow after you.

“I know you are,” he mumbles under his breath, hearing your relieved laughter at it just being the FedEx man on your doorstep. It makes him feel warm. Everywhere. “But what am I?”

Five hours later, Vernon is seeing double.

He has Seungkwan’s hands massaging the tops of his shoulders and there are two Juns sitting across from him at your dining table. He remembers feeling fine around 9pm, distinctly: like nothing he drank was having any kind of effect on him. Like he could walk home on his hands — like he was invincible. Now, after spending exactly five minutes out in the fresh air, he’s blinking four times for every breath he takes and his friends’ voices keep phasing in and out of focus.

“But what if they’re not?” Vernon stresses for the eighth time, fingers clumsily peeling at the label on his bottle.

“And what if they are?” Jun tries. Again. Also, for the eighth time, because apparently when Vernon gets tipsy, his skull gets really really thick and nothing in the world can penetrate it. “You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

Vernon shakes his head, sitting back so heavily that his chair tips and he sends Seungkwan stumbling into the wall behind them. His friend gives up trying to rub the stupid out of him and settles into the chair at Vernon’s side instead.

“I don’t know-…”

“If you’re about to say you don’t know what you’ll do if it isn’t them, I’m putting you in an Uber and sending you home.” Seungkwan claps his hand down onto Vernon’s knee for good measure. “It’s not even been a day.”

Vernon groans, threading his fingers into his hair and tipping his head back. “It hasn’t, though,” he whines. “What if it’s been like this since… and I just kept ignoring…”

Jun and Seungkwan exchange a look. An exhausted one. They both know Vernon turns into a complete baby when he’s had a drink and can just about manage a trip to the bathroom without somebody holding his hand, but neither of them have seen him like this before. Neither of them want to see him like this ever again.

Hell, neither of them want to be dealing with him like this right now.

“You’ll never know if you don’t try,” Jun’s (remarkably) calm voice repeats as he pushes up from his seat and glances towards the doorway. His ears lock onto a voice just beyond it, and in an instant, the older man recognises his chance at an exit. He casts an apologetic glance at Seungkwan, who has resorted to rubbing Vernon’s earlobes to try and get him to stop stressing, and he dips out before either of them can argue.

On his way, though, he throws in a sly little remark. One that raises Vernon’s– and Seungkwan’s– blood pressure to a level that would get them prescribed a week of strict bed rest.

“Besides – everyone can see the two of you were practically made for each other.”

Vernon whips around to face Seungkwan with shock written into every line of his face. It paints perfect full-signal WiFi creases on his forehead; it makes his jaw hang loose.

“I– what?” Vernon splutters, shooting a hand to the back of his head. Seungkwan hasn’t taken his eyes off the doorway since Jun slipped through it. Vernon doesn’t notice the fact that his older friend’s full genetic line is currently being cursed out. “What does he mean?”

“You don’t have to do anything tonight,” Seungkwan tries, now acutely aware of the fact that Jun has just given Vernon a nudge he should never have. There’s a fine line between bolstering a friend and straight-up causing chaos. This could get messy. Seungkwan doesn’t like messy.

But… It's too late.

Before Seungkwan can wrangle him back into his seat, Vernon has broken away from the table and is on the hunt for you. Seungkwan follows behind, doing his best to summon Vernon back, but he can’t. He’s on a mission now. And maybe that mission involves giving in to the thing that eats away at his brain when he should be waist-deep in music theory assignments. Maybe that mission is to finally, after two years, know what it feels like to kiss you. He’s going to find you, so help him God. He has to.

And yes. He does. He finds you, eventually. As soon as he reaches the top of the staircase, there you are.

Being pressed into the wood of your bedroom door, wrapped up in the arms of some pretentious looking art student in an oversized button-down and baggy, ripped jeans. Your mouth is covered by theirs, your fingers are threaded through those glossy fucking locks, both of you are laughing breathlessly as you drop one hand and it fumbles blindly to reach for the doorknob.

Vernon spins away, turning his back as he hears the door click. At this exact moment, Seungkwan comes stumbling up the stairs too and plants his forehead into Vernon’s sternum.

But his good friend’s skull is not the only thing Vernon is struck with, not the only thing knocking the wind out of him.

Simultaneously, he’s swept up with the sobering realisations that either this guy is your soulmate, or you’re not the same person you were when you were nineteen.

It’s eleven o’clock and two years later when he hears your secret knock on his apartment door.

Maybe it’s luck. Maybe it’s fate. He only took his noise cancelling headphones off a few minutes ago before he washed up and settled into bed; his head has hardly even had time to make a dent in the pillows. But whichever force is at play, the thing that matters is that he hears you and he knows it’s you, straight away. He doesn’t remember how it started, exactly. He thinks it might have been while he was in his exam-season hermit stage in his first year of university and refused to come to the door unless it was something important.

You’ve been knocking the same way for years now though, and he slides out of bed with creased brows at how desperate your fist sounds as it pounds against the wood. He pulls on an old t-shirt and perhaps the loosest fitting pair of shorts anyone’s ever owned, at least making himself decent before he answers. He’s still tying the drawstring when he gets to the door.

When he looks through the peep-hole to make sure he’s right, you’re drying your eyes on the back of your sweatshirt sleeve. You’re shivering quite violently, and you’ve got a bag on your shoulder that’s weighing you down on one side. Vernon’s heart sinks. He unbolts the door, pulling it open just as you lift your hand to knock again; your knuckles punch the air between you as your eyes land on him, and your bottom lip wobbles in despair.

You fall into his chest with a sob. Tears start to soak their way through his shirt until it clings to the skin underneath.

“Hey,” he soothes you, locking his arms so tight around you that there’s a strong chance they’re the only thing holding you upright.

“I didn’t— know where else to go—” you choke out, your arm trapped between your chest and his as he rests his head on top of yours and pats your back softly. “I’m s-”

“Don’t you dare,” he murmurs, tilting his chin down to press a soft kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I’m here. You can always come to me.”

He holds you until your shakes start to subside, trying to talk you through whatever this is with soft reassurances and gentle shushing sounds. When you pull back from him, Vernon guides you into his apartment, flicking on the lamp in his living room so he can see to settle you down on his couch. He throws a blanket over your legs before he sits down himself, pulling your hand into his lap and holding it between both of his own, his thumb moving absently over your knuckles. You’re still crying, but when you shuffle against the seat to be a little more comfortable and finally turn to face him, he finds his voice long enough to ask you what happened.

“He kissed— kissed someone else,” you tell him, sniffling and shaking your head.

His blood reaches boiling point in what must be record time and he knows he accidentally starts to grip your hand tighter, but he can’t stop.

“He what?”

Vernon knows this guy wasn’t your soulmate. You told him, a few days after your birthday. You said everything was still black and white when you pulled back from the first of — what you spared no detail in explaining was — many, many, many kisses with him that evening. But you didn’t care. Not then, and not for the whole time you’ve been together.

He asked you about it once. About four months in (when he figured things were starting to get serious), late at night, if it bothered you. Whether you were going to keep seeing him. If you still thought about finding your soulmate. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget what your replying message said.

I mean, sure, I’m curious. But maybe I don’t need to see in colour. I think being in love is enough :)

So… you were in love.

With someone who wasn’t him.

He didn’t speak to anyone — not even you — for two whole days after that. He felt like he’d gone ten rounds with a peak-form George Foreman. He felt like he’d never be able to get rid of the pit that had developed in the depths of his gut. He couldn’t sleep, he could barely eat, he couldn’t focus: it was the worst he’d ever felt. And, well… Vernon knew it was immature. He knew he was acting like a child. If he could’ve shaken it off, the way he’s always done with so many of the things in his life that have bothered him, he’d have loved to. But he couldn’t.

Besides. Only about four people noticed his silence, anyway. You weren’t one of them; your boyfriend was keeping you plenty busy.

“He went to a club and got completely wasted and he— he—” you say, squeezing his hand even tighter than he’s holding yours. “But-… he says he-…” Hiccup. “Everything. Straight away — his…”

You don’t need to say it out loud; if anything, he’s a little disgusted with himself that he didn’t figure this out sooner. “His soulmate,” Vernon ruefully finishes for you. He groans the words out, feeling rotten to his core. “I’m so sorry…”

Your shoulders start to shake and he wastes no time in pulling you sideways against him, both his arms locked around you again, just like before.

“It’s so stupid,” you cry, laughing emptily. His stomach turns; he hates this. Your anguish is an assault on his eardrums, especially when he’s got you so close, but he tries so hard not to flinch, not to move away. You need him, no matter how agonised it makes him feel. “I knew he wasn’t mine, but I thought-…”

Your voice fades away to nothing. You shake your head.

“You thought he was happy the same way you were,” he finishes again. You just nod, sobbing harder. “That's not—… stop saying the way you feel is stupid.”

Vernon doesn’t understand how that loser could ever not have been happy with you. How could he dream about going out in search of something more? Hell, Vernon doesn’t think there’s a soul alive better than you — how could anyone stand to just throw you away?

He wonders briefly if you can hear his heartbeat, thundering in his chest with the rage he feels all the way into his bones. You’ve always told him that you admire how chilled out, how collected he is, but Vernon has never felt less calm in his entire life. It’s only as he acknowledges that he has no right to feel like this, that he takes a few deep breaths in an attempt to bring his fever down. You mimic him, trying to do the same, and by the time his pulse starts to settle, you’re back to just sniffling against his shoulder.

“Stay the night here,” he tells you. It isn’t a suggestion, or really even a request. It’s an order. There’s no room for negotiation. “We’ll go get your things in the morning. I’ll be right there with you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but Vernon gets there before you do. Before you can protest the offers he’s made. Before you can ask him if he’s sure. He knows you, a little too well: he knows these are the words that are going to come out of your mouth next. “I’m with you, okay? Always.”

You sit back from him with a quiet chuckle, wiping your eyes again on your damp sleeve. “I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you,” you murmur. “You’re the best— the best thing that ever happened to me.”

He just rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head, standing up from the couch. (I know you are, he thinks. This isn’t the time for jokes, though.) He wishes you knew what you mean to him; how, in his eyes, you deserve the world, presented to you on a shining silver platter. Wishes you knew that he’d give it to you if thought he could carry it.

“Go wash up,” he says, ignoring the ache in his chest at the way your watery lashes flutter when you look up at him. “I’ll find you something to sleep in.”

He locates a spare toothbrush from a travelling kit he’s never used and sets a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on the heated towel rail, leaving you alone in the bathroom to go about your business. You emerge some fifteen minutes later to find Vernon perched on the edge of his bed, scrolling through an app on his phone. He can’t help but swallow at the way his clothes fit you. How the steam from your shower clings to your skin, casts a heavenly haze around you. He hopes it isn’t obvious. This is about more than his dumb little crush.

“Were you asleep?” You ask him, nodding towards his comforter, still pushed back on one side. He turns to glance over his shoulder, following the line of your sight, before he looks back at you and shakes his head.

“Not even close,” he says. “I’d just got into bed when you got here.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth and nod. Vernon doesn't think you look totally convinced, but he can’t force you to believe him, even if it is the truth.

It’s unspoken but accepted that you'll sleep in the bed with him; he’s never let you stay on his couch when you spend the night, and you never agree to displacing him even though he always tries to insist he doesn’t mind. You’ve been friends for enough time now that it’ll never be weird to crawl beneath the sheets with him, anyway. At first, he didn’t really like sharing (he’s a bit… particular with how he sleeps, after all), but he got used to your weight on the mattress beside him quite quickly and makes a point to say he always sleeps better with you.

He hasn’t curled up next to you for the night in over two years. It’s awful, that that’s what he thinks about now as he turns off the lights and you settle down, shuffling under the comforter until he slides in next to you in the dark and you can lay your head on his chest. He knows it’s selfish. He thinks it probably makes him a bad person, too.

“Do you think—” you start to say, cut off by a long, vocal yawn. Your breath feels so warm through his t-shirt. “If you fall out of love with them… do the colours go away?”

With his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling he can’t even see, Vernon feels his heart shatter beneath the soft cushion of your cheek. He’s suddenly grateful he’s still fully clothed, as if the cotton barrier is the only thing stopping you from getting scratched by the splinters beneath his skin. He wonders if you hear it. It would be an easier explanation for why he doesn’t say anything than whatever his mouth could come up with, that’s for sure.

“I don’t know,” he says after a few seconds too long. The arm wrapped around your shoulders slips down to your waist and he squeezes you. Briefly, he wonders if it can force your broken pieces back together.

Vernon knows he would never do this to you. He’d never hurt you this way. Out of everyone he’s ever met, he thinks you’re the sweetest, the kindest, the most thoughtful of them all. The last person he’d ever wish a heartbreak upon. He even used to joke that he’d go to war with anyone who dared to try.

But now he’s seeing it happen? He feels as if he really could.

“I just hope you never have to find out,” he follows up, blinking back the thoughts that start to bubble away as your breaths slow down.

He wrapped a band-aid around your finger when you got a papercut once and you asked him, then, if he would kiss it better.

When you bumped your head in the playground, the same.

He’d kiss it all better now too, if he could. He’d show you how you deserve to be loved.

And he doesn’t just think it, anymore; Vernon knows that this makes him a terrible person.

“I hope you don’t, either,” you mumble back. “... and I hope we find them soon.”

He’s so proud of you.

Okay, it never took much. He’s been proud of you for every good grade you’ve ever achieved, every doctor's appointment you booked for yourself, every trip to the dentist you stressed over. He’s been proud of you for finishing projects you were struggling with. Proud of you for learning new recipes. For every milestone, personal or professional, it’s the first thing he makes sure to say.

[ hey, look at u go!!! proud of u :) ]

Now? He’s seen you crawl from rock bottom to the top of the world. It hasn’t been easy. There have been hurdles and barriers and sometimes, sixty foot high walls you’ve had to climb up and over, but you’ve done it. You’re thriving. Every time he looks at you, these days, if you’re not wearing a smile there are at least traces of one in your eyes, on your face, in your voice. Happiness suits you, and he’s so, so proud of you for getting here.

He knows you’re doing better, because between Christmas and New Year, you asked him if he wanted to come to a party with you. At first, he wasn’t sure; the holidays left his wallet feeling a little light and he’s been on a really good streak of not drinking anything lately, but when you promised that you’d stay sober too, he kind of couldn’t say no.

[ i just wanna see in the new year with my favourite person ever <3 ]

[ ha. flattery will get u everywhere ]

So here he finds himself, out in the backyard of somebody he’s never met, a can of Coke in one hand and your gloved fingers holding tightly onto the other. You dragged him outside at five minutes to midnight and — though he doesn’t know why — you decided you didn’t want to let go. Vernon certainly wasn’t going to be the one to make you. Your warmth down his left side is settling the slight unease he’s felt all evening while also making him feel tipsier than he’s ever been under the influence of any amount of soju; he thinks maybe this should scare him, but he’s just… so glad he came.

With sixty seconds until the clock strikes twelve, somebody stands up on top of the picnic table in the yard and starts to try and coordinate a countdown. With forty-five, Vernon squeezes your hand, butterflies where his stomach ought to be. With thirty, he takes a long drain of his drink, finishing it as if it’ll give him some courage, maybe, or… he doesn’t know. Zero sugar, zero caffeine — there’s no logic behind his process, just a lot of bubbles and artificially sweetened syrup. All the same, he crushes the can against his thigh and slips it into his pocket to throw away later. That alone relieves a bit of his adrenaline.

Not enough, but some.

With ten seconds remaining, the first shout drowns out the white noise in his ears, the chaos of his thoughts. 10. He joins them. So do you. 9. 8. Your voice is the loudest, the most excited sounding. You want this year to be over. You want the rest of your life to begin.

7. 6. 5.

The crackers are set. Flames dance at the end of the garden on fire lighters, ready to send rockets shooting into the sky.

Some people here are going to see them as they truly are. Brilliant and vibrant and colourful against the black canvas of the midnight sky. Vernon won’t. Neither will you. But what was it you said to him once?

4. 3.

Maybe I don’t need to see in colour.

For the first time, he thinks he agrees. The feeling of loving you, even if he never knows green from red, blue from orange? He doesn’t care. He has you. He loves you. That’s enough.

Happy New Year.

As if dawn has broken early, the world becomes impossibly bright, pyrotechnics bursting not only over your own heads but everywhere, as far as his eyes can see. After the first few, he permits himself a glance over at your face: there are tears running down it, and his heart stutters, but then he hears you laugh. Brightly, wetly, more resonant than any of the booms and crackles and cheers he can feel all the way down to his toes.

For whatever reason, Vernon starts laughing with you.

You pull him closer into a bone-crushing hug and blink your damp lashes against the side of his neck. “Thank you for being here with me,” you say to him, practically shouting to be heard. “I love you so much.”

“I’m always gonna be with you,” he says as you pull back a little. Your arms are still around him. The chain of the bracelet he bought you all those years ago is bitterly cold against the back of his neck. He can’t feel his fingers anymore, all he knows is that they’re resting on the curve of your spine. He thinks he can see something in the way you look at him, so softly and tenderly and yet, in the twitch of your brow…

Like you’re searching for something that might not be there.

He knows his gaze moves in a perfect triangle — from your left eye, to your slightly parted, wind-chapped lips, to your right. He knows he stops breathing. He swears you do, too. Something builds — a spark catches, an energy festers, egged on by the curious murmurs of the people around you.

You could do it, his brain tells him.

So what if he’s a few minutes late for it to be traditional? Does it really matter?

But he’s reminded, again, this time with a whizz and a boom and a crackle, that you aren’t his to have this way. His storybook moment fizzles out, the final firework bursting into sparkles overhead. He sees every one of your perfect features brighten in wonder as you tilt your head back to look up at it. Sees it beautifully reflected in your glassy eyes. He has about enough time to commit the image to memory before you clear your throat and finally step away from him, losing all touch for the first time since you came outside.

One of your friends comes and pulls you into an embrace, before passing you along to someone else, and then someone else again. He loses you in the crowd that rushes to get back in the warm, but he makes no effort to move with them. He just stays out in the dark for a while with his own thoughts for company, shoving his frigid hands into the pockets of his jeans.

He’s happy, though. It’s like you said.

Being in love is enough.

“There’s just one more thing,” you say as the waitress returns with your bank card and a receipt. Vernon slides you a look as he stands, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair he’s been sitting in.

He shakes his head at you. “Whatever it is, it better not be edible,” he laughs. “I think this is the most full I’ve ever been.”

In other words, you’ve done enough already. Stop spending money on me. Please. Thankfully, your final surprise is in-keeping with his unspoken rule.

His birthday rolled around way too quickly. The start of the year has been so chaotically busy; you swear, you’ve hardly seen him since he dropped you off home after the party. You moved out of your parents’ house for the second time a few weeks ago and settling in, unpacking boxes, sorting through clothes and belongings and trinkets has taken you much longer than you care to admit. You’ve been busy at work, too. So has he. Your social calendars have barely lined up at all.

But you were determined to make plenty of time for him on his birthday.

To Vernon, this has always just been another day. He’s never cared too much about big celebrations: as long as he can spend some time with people he cares about, he’s happy, and this year he’s managed exactly that. He saw his family this morning, had some friends drop by his apartment later in the day, and now, he’s with you.

You’ve never been great at the laid-back approach, though. Not with him. How could you be, when he does so much for you, always without even batting an eye? When he deserves to be doted on, and adored, and thoroughly spoiled? It’s the same every year. You make a fuss, he playfully scolds you for it; you and he are creatures of habit. It’ll probably never change.

This year, you invited him to your new place to open the gifts you’d bought him: the new speaker he kept saying he couldn’t justify buying, a record he looked at in the store a few months ago but never bought, a sweatshirt to replace the one you stole off him on New Years Eve. Some candies he likes. Then, after he finally stopped pouting and sighing that you really didn’t need to go to all this effort, you took him out for dinner, making a reservation for two at his favourite restaurant.

The pouting continued.

Only up until your appetisers came out, though. The moment your food was placed down in front of you, his eyes doubled in size and his lips became a little too busy to stay pursed. Your own dinner almost went cold with how fondly you sat and watched him. This year, you even spared Vernon the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing at the side of your table.

All right, you have an ulterior motive, but… it’s the thought that counts, right?

He holds the door open for you now as you thank the waitress who served you one last time and without him lowering his arm, you step into place beneath it. Tucked up into Vernon’s side, you’re as happy as you’ve ever been. Nervous, too, but… you have a good feeling.

“Where to?” He asks as you fall into step together.

“This way.”

You emerge from the shelter of the canopy outside the restaurant’s front door and immediately feel the cool tickle of a snowflake landing on your cheek. They started to fall while you were eating and Vernon couldn’t stop watching through the window, small specks that grew over the hour into big clumps that tumbled towards the ground. He’s always loved the snow, and there’s no real destination for this gift, anyway. You guide him to the left and watch as peace takes its rightful home on his beautiful features.

“We’ve walked in a perfect square three times now,” Vernon says after a little while of meandering about in the dark, making comfortable small talk and laughing as the champagne bubbles in your stomachs continue to fizz away. “Where are we supposed to be going?”

You wondered how long it was going to take him to notice, or even if he was going to realise at all. Looking up and down the street you’re on, you stop in your tracks, standing beneath the same flickering street lamp that you’ve passed twice already. Your footprints trail both behind and in front of you, neither quite covered yet by the snowfall. You break into a laugh when you notice that the convenience store on your left has closed since the last time you came down this road.

“I can get a map open, if…” Vernon starts, reaching into his pocket. You stop him, stepping out from under his arm and wrapping your hand around his wrist instead.

“I might’ve told a little white lie,” you confess,

He halts with his phone only half pulled out, pushing it into his hip for fear of it falling if either of you let go. “What do you mean?” He asks.

You know he’s probably thinking back to your earlier conversations, trying to figure out which part exactly is the mistruth you’re now admitting to. But whether he gets there on his own or not, he waits for you to answer.

“I had it with me this whole time,” you explain, readjusting your hold on his covered forearm. His eyes dart downwards, looking at the site of contact, but he quickly lifts them back up to your face. “I was just… waiting for… ”

“What are you talking about?” Vernon asks.

“Close your eyes.”

You know.

Unfortunately for your best friend, as hush-hush as he’s managed to be all this time, the same can’t be said for the other person he entrusts all his secrets to. A few weeks ago, when you’d called Seungkwan to coordinate timings for Vernon’s birthday plans, he’d accidentally let something slip. It was your suggestion of taking Vernon to dinner that did the trick.

“Oh, he’s going to love that,” Seungkwan had gushed. You could hear the breadth of his smile down the phone and felt yourself growing hot at the compliment.

“You really think so?”

“Pfft. You could take him to the Eiffel Tower or to a drive-through KFC, and he’d still have hearts in his eyes – because it’s you.”

Of course, he attempted to do some damage control immediately after. Make out that he meant it in strictly platonic terms. But once the idea planted itself in your head, it sort of… made sense. You mulled it over for a couple of days but when you finally asked Seungkwan, deathly serious, if he really thought you stood a chance with Vernon?

He practically screamed ‘yes’ down the phone.

“The last time you asked me to do this, you killed me at laser-tag,” Vernon says, narrowing his eyes. He surely doesn’t think you’re hiding a plastic gun underneath the coat he literally just watched you don, but he doesn’t do as you ask and you suck your front teeth at him.

“Luckily for you, I left all my weapons at home,” you counter. “Come on, please. Just… trust me.”

“Said that last time, too,” he snickers. But, to his merit, he finally does it. He takes in a breath and follows your instruction. “I swear to God…”

Selfishly, you take a moment to bask in how handsome he really is. His eyes twitch underneath his lids and snowflakes cling to his lashes, moving with them. It’s in his hair, too. On his shoulders. Melting on his cheeks, leaving small wet spots on his face. One lands perfectly on the tip of his nose. You would immortalise this moment, if you could.

It made sense, when you found out, because thinking back? Nobody has ever loved you how Vernon does. He shows it in so many ways – he sends you the songs that he hears and thinks you’ll like, the pretty photographs that he takes when he’s away for work, some variant of a ‘good morning’ text, almost every day. He massages your shoulders, lets you fall asleep on his lap, follows you around like an obedient puppy when you have errands to run just so you don’t have to do them on your own.

He tries, and often fails, to cook you breakfast when you stay over. He brings you coffees, or lunch. He looks at you like you’re the moon and the stars. People have teased for years that you could be psychically connected. That you were cosmically united. That it was fate for Vernon to move into the house down the street from you when you were nine. To be the only other child your age on the block.

Two people, perfect for one another, lives intertwined eternally by fate. Or, in other words…

“Are you…?” He asks, breaking the quiet that has only been filled with your cloud-forming breaths.

“Give me a second,” you breathe. There’s no doubt in your mind.

One.

You lean forward to kiss him softly, free hand settling against the side of his neck. In the February chill, Vernon freezes, no part of his body reacting to you except for his lips. Though they twitch in a gasp, they press back against yours as if he isn’t even thinking about doing it. As if it’s instinctual. As if he was always supposed to kiss you – as if he’s your…

There it all is, when you finally pull away.

Brown eyes, framed by fluttering lashes that untangle from one another to finally see you, too. Brown, you know, because when you asked your mother to tell you about Vernon’s colours when you were younger, that was the only one she told you, saying everything else might change when he got older. Warm, brown eyes. Glistening with every blink, blink, blink of the bulb above you. Pupils slowly dilating, drowning the colours out of view. You see his lids shoot wide as he realises, as he glances left and right, as he takes this new world in for the first time, too.

“I knew it,” you say on a stuttered breath, so overwhelmed you could cry. “My soulmate.”

A brilliant smile threatens to split Vernon’s features in two as he cups your cheeks and pulls you back to him, kissing you again, and again, and again.

“I know you are,” he says against your lips, his bare thumbs pink and cold as they press into your skin. And, before you can kiss him quiet – “but what ‘m I?”

thank u so much for reading, i really hope you enjoyed this. as always, your likes/reblogs/comments and feedback are always deeply appreciated.<3

#vernon fluff #vernon x reader #vernon chwe fluff #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #hansol x reader #hansol fluff #kpop fluff #j writes.#*#so nervous ab posting this. anyway. i wrote this for meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee and my deluded ass is gonna go jump in a hole now GOODBYE <3 #vernon fanfic

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nataliesfirefly · 3 months

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You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 6

a/n: hey guys!! im so sorry this part has taken me so long! im currently on a trip so i havent had much time to write! but i hope this makes up for it, im super excited for yall to read this!!! also i think im going to plan for this series to have a few more chapters, probably max 9 or 10! i love it sm i really dont want it to end 😭 but anyways enjoyyy and comment what you think! and again i apologize if the smut is mid.. btw this is not proofread LMAO

series masterlist

playlist

word count: 4.9k words

warnings: MDNI 18+, smut, fingering, oral (f!receiving), p in v, angst, language, smoking, afab reader

You’re sitting in your bed, reading a magazine, when your flip phone rings. You lean forward to pick it up from the corner of the bed, wondering who could be calling you this late. You raise your eyebrows when you see that it’s Lola. You haven’t spoken to her since school got out. Nevertheless, you answer it and put the phone up to your ear.

“Lola! Hey,” You grin. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you picked up. I’m so bored around here,” She groans, and you smile even bigger at the sound of her voice on the other end. “Around where?” You ask curiously.

“My parents’. I have to babysit my younger sister all the time. It’s exhausting, really,” She moans. “I just want to like, go to a party or something. Honestly, I would even prefer to be going to classes right now instead of this.”

“Wow. That must mean it’s really bad then, huh?” You continue flipping through the magazine, your eyes scanning through the apparently trending fashion and makeup choices at the moment.

“Yes. Ugh. You’re at Saltburn, right?” She asks. “Yeah.” You reply.

“How’s that going?” Lola questions, and you hear another voice in the background that sounds like her, only higher-pitched. “No, I’m on the phone. Go away. Shoo,”

You try not to snicker at her shooing away her little sister. “It’s…” You trail off, trying to decide the right way to describe how the summer is going so far for you. “I don’t know. Different.”

“How so?” You pause and wonder if you should tell her what’s been going on. You decide it’s probably better not to and keep some things to yourself.

“I think it’s just cause we’re growing up. I mean, we graduate in less than two years.” You shrug and reach over to grab your glass of wine. “Oh God, don’t remind me. My parents are still asking me what my plans are,” She sighs loudly.

“I can’t believe it.” You shake your head and close the magazine, uninterested in the latest celebrity drama. An idea suddenly forms in your mind.

“Hey, the Cattons are throwing one of their big summer parties in a few days. I could invite you?” You suggest. You hear Lola gasp. “Really?! I’d love to go. I’ve heard so many stories about the Saltburn parties.” She makes it sound so dramatic, and you giggle.

“And you’d get a chance to see Felix,” You grin as you hear her jumping around. “Yeah, I would! You don’t need to convince me any further. I’ll be there,” She pauses. “Wait, but they’ll let me come, right?”

“Oh, of course. They like me a lot, so I’m sure they won’t mind.” You assure her. “Okay, perfect. Thank you so much, my love. I’ll let you get some sleep. See you soon!” She squeals excitedly and you roll your eyes with a smile as she hangs up.

You set down your phone and sigh, looking around your dim room.

You haven’t been able to get Farleigh out of your mind since your little… moment two nights ago. He’s not avoiding you, but he’s not being nice either. He’s gone back to teasing you and embarrassing you in front of the Cattons. You should’ve known that if you got too close, he’d pull away and return to his old ways.

But every little glance you two share has your stomach fluttering and your heart pounding. Every insult meant to hurt or offend you has the opposite effect. In some depraved way, you like when he degrades you. The past two nights, you’ve laid awake and stared up at the ceiling, trying to relive that night when he made you feel so good. Just the thought of him had your mind reeling. You would do anything just to feel that way again. You’re hooked.

You can’t just keep wallowing in these feelings. You want to talk to him, work things out, and go back to how they used to be a week ago. More importantly, you just want to be in his presence. It gives you some kind of thrill to be around him. It’s like a game of roulette to see which version of him you’ll get each time, and you love it. You crave his attention.

You climb off of your large bed and walk determinedly to your door, opening it quietly and sneaking down the hallway. It’s quite a long walk to Farleigh’s room, but you don’t care. You pass Felix’s room, then Venetia’s. Both of their lights are out, telling you that everyone in the house is probably asleep by now. You can only hope and pray that Farleigh isn’t.

You eventually find yourself standing in front of his room. Dim light peeks through from under his door, and you sigh with relief. He’s still awake. Your decision catches up to you and you realize how stupid it is that you’re about to knock on his door. You shake your head to clear your doubt, raising your hand and gently knocking.

You hear his bed shifting and footsteps following close after. You swallow nervously, your throat suddenly feeling dry. Your heart races with anticipation as he finally opens the door.

Fuck. He’s shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants on. Your eyes trail down subconsciously before you blink and look back up to his face. Is he wearing underwear?

“Hello,” He says, his grin foxlike. “I can’t sleep. Can we talk?” You ask, your voice shaky. You curse yourself for sounding nervous. He crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows. “Talk about what?” He questions.

You pause, unsure of what to say next. What were you going to talk about? He would deny any feelings towards you, so what was the point of even coming here?

“Just let me in, please.” You step forward and avoid his gaze. He steps to the side wordlessly, opening the door further to let you into his room.

You breathe in the familiar scent of that candle he’s always burning, and the scent of his cologne. It’s musky and spicy, with notes of vanilla. You tried to memorize it everytime you were close to him. You walk over to his bed and sit down on the edge, looking up at him as he closes the door behind him.

“Can I have a cigarette?” You ask, pointing to the pack sitting on his bedside table. He nods, and you carefully take one. He hands you the lighter.

He stares down at you as you light the cigarette, taking a drag from it. He chuckles to himself and you exhale, furrowing your eyebrows. “What’s funny?”

“You always said you hated the smell. Yet here you are, asking me for a cigarette,” He replies with a scoff. “Maybe you’re just a bad influence,” You shoot back, and his smile slightly fades.

You can see his eyes traveling down your body, lingering on your thighs and your bare legs. You had outgrown these sleep shorts, but you never cared because you figured no one would see you in them. Well, there goes that.

“Are we not going to talk about the other night?” You mutter. “What’s there to talk about?” He replies, and you roll your eyes. “Are you-” You pause and let out a frustrated breath. “Are you serious?” You exclaim angrily.

“You can’t blame it on being drunk this time, Farleigh.” You tell him, and he freezes, his gaze faltering downwards.

“Can we not talk about that? Let’s just…” He sighs with exasperation and sits next to you. You turn away from him, looking out the window. You decide not to press the issue, since it’s apparently too much for him to think about right now. Honestly, you aren’t even able to fully process what’s been going on between you two.

“Let’s just… talk,” He says finally, and you face him again, exhaling a small cloud of smoke. “Okay.” You shrug. It’s what you both do best: Talking. About anything and everything, despite the strange history of your relationship. You guessed that it was because you had known each other for so long, that it just came naturally. He’s just… real. He’s never pretending or putting on a façade, at least around you he’s not. Around the Cattons, he has to, because to them he’s just the wild child, the comedic relief, the American. You feel like you are the only one that gets to see the real Farleigh, and it feels like a privilege. But you know that’s not true, and you choose to believe it anyway.

“So… Our third year at Oxford,” Farleigh says. You let out a breath and raise your eyebrows. “Can’t believe it’s already been two years,” You both smile, thinking of all the good and bad memories you’ve made so far during your years at university.

“Can I be honest?” You ask, and he nods. “I’m scared.” You say simply. His eyebrows knit together. “Of what?” He replies. “Graduating. You know, I’ll probably go to graduate school or something, but I need to start making my own money. Get a job. Do adult things,” You sigh just at the thought of all the responsibilities. “I can’t be on a scholarship forever. Or have my parents pay forever,” You continue, shaking your head. “I’m putting them through enough as it is.”

Farleigh nods again with a look of understanding. “I might go back to the states. See my mom, maybe stay there for a while.” He says. You can’t help but feel a little sad at the thought of him being away for so long. You hate to admit it, but you would miss him.

“But we don’t have to worry about that right now. You’re too uptight. Let yourself have fun,” He nudges you softly. “I’m trying,” You mutter. “Well, you’re smoking. That’s one step closer,” He laughs a bit and you roll your eyes.

It goes quiet and you stare down into your lap. You can feel his eyes on you, and your heart begins to race with anticipation. That familiar tension returns in the air between you and Farleigh.

You look up slightly, his eyes meeting with yours. Your stomach churns as you look down to see his hand inching towards your thigh, eventually resting on top of it. “I know why you came here,” He says, his voice lowered.

You look back up to him. “What?” You whisper. “Don’t play dumb,” He shakes his head. “I’m not.” You reply, trying hard not to break the intense eye contact.

You gulp nervously and finally look away, your face giving you away and burning red. “Hmm,” He hums, his thumb brushing across your thigh. You try to distract yourself by pressing the cigarette out on the ashtray on his bedside table, watching the little flame burn out.

He gently reaches up and grabs your chin, tilting your head back towards him. He drags his thumb down your bottom lip as you stare into his eyes. He grins slightly before moving his hand to cup your cheek, leaning in closer until your noses brush together. You know you shouldn’t be doing this. You know Farleigh is emotionally unavailable and toxic, and he won’t ever discuss his feelings or yours. But you can’t help but melt into the kiss, his touch, his aura. It’s like he’s magnetic, pulling you in everytime you try to pull away.

Somehow, every single time he kisses you, it’s better than the first time. Your tongues intertwine as your lips move in a perfect rhythm while both of you fall back onto his bed clumsily. One of his hands tangles in your hair, and the one that was resting on your leg moves up to rest on your waist, his fingers caressing your bare skin due to your tank top riding up. He eventually shifts his position so that he’s on top of you, and you turn to lay on your back underneath him.

His kisses begin to move down to your jawline, then your neck. He sucks and licks your skin so cruelly, but you don’t want him to stop. You breathe in the scent of his hair, his curls tickling your face, and you can already feel yourself becoming weak again.

You feel his hands start to trail down your body, resting on your hips, as he moves down the bed and you peer down to see him looking up at you from between your legs. Feverish heat burns across your skin just at the sight of it.

“Wait, wait. I’ve never-“ You start, suddenly feeling nervous. “It’s okay,” Farleigh replies, his eyes soft and warm as he gazes up at you. “Just relax,” He murmurs, gently pulling down your shorts and panties at the same time, shuffling them off your legs.

Just relax, you think. Easier said than done. You’ve pictured this moment so many times in the past few days, and you can’t believe it’s becoming reality.

And of all the times you’ve fantasized about this, none of them could ever do Farleigh’s beauty justice. His dark eyes are shining with something of lust and hunger, his plush lips slightly parted and his shoulders broad and golden. His curly hair is only slightly wet from his shower earlier, yet still perfectly coiled.

He looks up at you, trying to convey something through his gaze. “So pretty,” He mutters, tracing a finger along your thigh. Your breath catches in your throat and you feel your stomach fluttering already.

He lifts your legs up and places them over his shoulders. Your heart pounds in anticipation and you can hear yourself breathing among the silence.

Farleigh leans down and presses a few kisses along your inner thigh, and you don’t know how much longer you can stand his teasing. You watch him gaze up at you through his lashes as he dips a finger into your wetness and you see the smirk that tugs at his lips. He raises his eyebrows at you and your face turns red. “Stop,” You cover your face with both hands, your stomach doing flips. You can’t handle how perfect he looks right now, even as he teases you for how soaked you are already.

“Hey, look at me,” He says, his deep voice vibrating against your skin. You let your hands fall back to your sides, smiling shyly. His expression turns more serious as he furrows his brows, slipping his finger inside of you. He moans before you even can, his head falling against your thigh.

That familiar stretch around his finger has your mind reeling as you throw your head back. He pulls it out and you whimper at the loss, until you feel his middle and ring finger on your clit. Your hands instinctively move to grasp the sheets as he strokes your bundle of nerves perfectly, letting your head fall back down to watch him. He continues to maintain eye contact and it makes you so weak.

Your brain almost turns to mush as you see him leaning down, his head buried between your legs. A moan louder than you intended leaves your mouth as you feel his tongue greedily licking a stripe up your pussy.

“Shit,” You huff, your chest heaving up and down. No one had ever given you head before, until now, so you didn’t really understand your girlfriends when they would tell you how amazing it felt. But now, you completely get it. His tongue moves in long, slow strokes and his pretty nose nudges perfectly against your clit.

He barely lifts his head so he can stare up at you to watch your reaction. You grind up against his face, your hand reaching down to grab a handful of his curls. He groans at the feeling before inserting a finger again, moving at the perfect pace along with his tongue. The combination is enough to make your legs shake. The lewd sounds of him lapping up your cum and both of your wanton moans echo throughout his room.

“Farleigh!” You almost scream his name before letting out a long, drawn out moan. He glances up at you once more, his pupils huge with lust. He moans against you as he absolutely devours you, adding a second finger in. His long fingers brush against that divine spot inside of you and you whimper helplessly, your other hand gripping his sheets as if it could help ground you somehow. That delicious heat builds in the base of your stomach, spreading like a fire.

“I’m gonna-“ You gasp for air, your chest heaving up and down. His eyes are half-lidded and he seems completely lost in the moment, just absolutely pussy drunk. “Let go,” He says, his voice deep and raspy.

And you do exactly that. The pleasure shoots through your veins like a drug, your grasp in his hair tightening and your hips rolling as you ride it out. You eventually come down from your high, letting your legs drop from his shoulders as you let out a shaky sigh, your heart still pounding against your ribs.

“Fuckk,” You breathe out, resting your head against the pillow. Farleigh crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you. The lower half of his face is covered in your slick, but you couldn’t care less. He kisses you passionately, desperately, groaning into your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips and his tongue, and it just turns you on even more.

He pulls away, his lips hovering over yours. You look up at him and suddenly feel an indescribable desire wash over you as you stare into his deep brown eyes. It’s like you can’t get close enough to him, like you need more than everything he’s already given you. You want him inside of you. You want to feel every part of him. You want him to feel every part of you.

“Farleigh,” You whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “What is it?” He whispers back, lightly touching your own face.

“I want you,” You say. You don’t care how stupid you sound right now. This carnal desire has completely taken over you.

“In what way?” He replies, smirking smugly. “I think you know which way I mean,” You mutter. You don’t have time for his teasing, although you love it.

His expression softens and he seems to understand what you mean. “Please, I need you,” You can’t believe you’re begging for Farleigh of all people right now. You know you’ll be regretting it later. His eyes widen and he seems shocked by your confession.

“Far…” You whisper, tracing your finger along his lips. He opens his mouth to speak, hesitating slightly.

“Do you know what you do to me?” He asks, his voice soft. You look up at him and tilt your head. He takes your hand and guides it down below his waist while still looking down at you. You gasp softly when you feel that his dick is so hard underneath his sweatpants. It has to be painful. You slowly rub your hand against him and his eyebrows draw together as he stutters slightly, and it almost looks like he’s in pain.

“Baby-“ Farleigh whimpers. “Please,” You beg once again, and he nods, quickly taking his pants off and throwing them somewhere on the floor of his bedroom. You look down at his dick, and you have to keep your jaw from dropping.

It’s definitely the biggest you’ve seen, and although you haven’t seen many in your lifetime, you know he would be considered above average. It’s long, with a bit of girth to it, veiny and already leaking precum from the tip. You feel yourself starting to get nervous. You aren’t sure if you could even take all of it, but hell, you’re going to try. You hope he didn’t pick up on your reaction, because you know he would tease you over it.

He places his hands on either side of your head and leans down onto his elbows. He never takes his eyes off yours as he positions himself. You wrap your legs around his waist, letting your ankles rest on his back.

He slowly begins to slide in, and you grunt quietly at the pain. He goes a bit deeper before you panic and place a hand on his lower stomach, stopping him. “I can’t-“ You wince in pain.

“Yes, you can. You can take it,” He nods and brushes the side of your face with his fingers. He takes your hand off of his stomach gently and places your arm back onto the bed. You nod in an attempt to encourage yourself, gritting your teeth to withstand the pain. You reach up to his shoulders, resting your hands on his shoulder blades, trying to keep your nails from digging into his skin as you hold onto him.

“Fuck,” Farleigh grunts as your walls grip him tightly, sucking him in. Eventually he’s buried inside of you to the hilt, and you can feel every inch of him. You’re still trying to adjust to his size, and the pain is slowly subsiding as he groans and drops his head and closes his eyes. You press your hips up against his, trying to get him to start moving. “Far,” You mutter. You can tell he’s trying to hold back. He breathes heavily and opens his eyes again, gazing into yours.

“I’m ready,” You whisper. His eyebrows knit together as he rolls his hips slowly, causing your eyes to roll back and drawing a short moan out of you. He shudders, slightly pulling out of you before thrusting back in. You wonder how he’s so good at this as your nails dig crescent moons into his back with each slow thrust and roll of his hips. Your mouth falls open and you try to be quieter but it’s no use.

He buries his head into the crook of your neck, his curls tickling your face. He’s whimpering and moaning your name and other incoherent nonsense right into your ear. He sets a beautiful rhythm, his bed creaking underneath you as you sink into the plush of the mattress. You think you hear the headboard hitting the wall but you don’t care about the loud sounds you two are creating. You just don’t want this moment to end.

He looks back up to you and you can see he’s already fucked out. His eyes are even more glazed over than before and sex sweat forms on his brow. He whimpers helplessly and pants heavily. “You’re so good,” He breathes. “So, so good,” You could probably cum just from his words alone.

You let out a wanton moan as he hits that spot again, deep inside of you. “Oh, fuck!” You gasp and claw at his shoulders. He drops his head again, kissing your neck as he thrusts into you faster and deeper each time, hitting your spot over and over once he’s found it.

“Yeah, that’s it,” He groans against your neck and you feel tears brimming in your eyes. “Farleigh- It’s-“ You can’t seem to form words, your brain turned to sizzling hot liquid. “I know, I know,” He whimpers, his voice slightly higher pitched and breathless. You try to hold on longer, but you’re already coming undone as your orgasm hits you sooner than you expected. Your body stills and you clench even harder around him. He moans, that pained expression crossing his face once again. “Oh God,” He chokes out, his thrusts beginning to become less steady.

“Where should I-“ Farleigh pants. “Inside,” You tell him. You’re on birth control, but you don’t have the mental capacity to explain that to him or explain why. His hips stutter and he stiffens, finishing inside of you, the warm feeling spreading throughout your lower stomach. He collapses on top of you, his head on your chest, resting on the soft fabric of your shirt.

You’re already sleepy and physically exhausted from what just took place. You breathe in his scent one more time and let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling and trying to process what you just did. Then he’s wrapping his arms around you gently before pulling out of you slowly. You grunt a bit, feeling a dull ache between your legs, but you can’t help but miss the feeling of him inside of you.

He adjusts the both of you so that you’re both laying on your side, allowing you to stretch out a bit and cuddle up to him, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. He holds you, and for a moment, it feels like a real relationship. Something you had never experienced. Something deep. Something real. And then you remember that it’s not. After this, he will go back to avoiding you and acting like he can’t stand you. You just wish that he would put his pride away and admit to you what he really feels. But what does he really feel? Are you stupid for thinking that there’s something here?

Farleigh strokes his fingers through your hair, brushing away some of the strands plastered onto your forehead by your sweat. He seems to notice your silence.

“You’re thinking too much,” He says, his voice beautifully hoarse. You sigh, relaxing your shoulders. “Am I?” You reply, your voice weaker than you thought it would be.

“Just sleep here tonight,” He mutters, resting his chin on top of your head. You so badly want to ask him to be serious and have an actual conversation with you about your… relationship.

“Okay… but we need to talk about this,” You respond quietly. He sighs and shifts a bit, careful not to move you too much. “We can in the morning,” He says, but you know that won’t happen. You’ll just have to settle for no answers to your questions for the time being.

You curl up closer to him and let your eyes close, breathing slowly and peacefully. “Goodnight,” You murmur. “Night,” He replies, sounding just as tired as you are. You drift off to sleep in Farleigh Start’s arms.

ONE YEAR EARLIER

You were usually on okay terms with Farleigh. But you remember exactly when the dislike turned into hatred.

It was right before end of term exams and Felix convinced you to go to the pub to blow off some steam and relax after all your revising. You reluctantly agreed, then regret your decision when you saw Farleigh and Sasha there.

It was pretty far into the evening and you were beginning to get sleepy. You had spaced out for a moment, staring out the window and watching the snow fall before you heard something that peaked your interest.

“I mean, Felix, you have got to settle down,” Farleigh chuckled and nudged Sasha, pointing his cigarette at Felix.

Felix grinned stupidly and shrugged. “Listen, mate. I’ve tried.” Some other friends of his joined in with the laughter.

You sat up and leaned forward, facing Farleigh. “You’re one to comment on relationships,” You said, raising an eyebrow. Everyone else sort of quieted down after hearing your words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Farleigh rolled his eyes at you and Sasha just glared. “You and Sasha. You’re dysfunctional.” You responded, unafraid to challenge him.

“Excuse me?” Sasha looked at you like you just committed a hate crime. “Yeah. He cheats on you, you cheat on him, you get back together, blah blah blah.” You took a sip of your beer and shrugged. “It’s gone on for almost a year now. It’s exhausting,”

Farleigh chuckled. “Ohh, you want to come after my relationship?” He smirked as if he was cooking up a plan in his mind of how to humiliate you best.

“Well, I bet you would like everyone to know that you lost your virginity to Joshua Brown,” Farleigh said, loud enough for even people from other tables to hear. A small chorus of gasps echoed across the room.

“You’re desperate, easy, and sloppy. You take anyone who wants you. I guess that’s what happens when you get no attention before you go to college, hm?” He just kept going, and the whole room went silent

“I’ve seen you walk out of so many dorms at six in the morning, it’s insane. You can’t even keep a fucking man,” Farleigh’s tone was harsher and colder than you’d ever heard before. Felix was staring at you in shock and Sasha was giving you that judgemental look.

You looked around to see all the pairs of eyes on you. “Fucking hell, Farleigh,” Felix muttered, shaking his head at him.

You stood up and grabbed your bag hastily, storming out of the pub with tears in your eyes. Why was he such a bitch? Why did he hate you?

Your reputation was officially ruined. All that time, he never told anyone about your situation with Joshua. Until now. He was doing so well. The whole class thought you were an innocent and pure, high achieving student, and now what would they think? You wish you didn’t care so much about how others perceive you, but you do.

You hated Farleigh. You hated him for ruining your reputation and your image. It was impossible to get him back or do something worse, since basically everyone knew he was a slut. But he got praised for it.

Ever since that night at the pub, other students would look at you sideways and whisper things about you as if you couldn’t hear them.

Fuck you, Farleigh. You decided you were officially done with him and your weird friendship. Even if that meant having to avoid him at every cost.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv

#farleigh start #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn #farleigh smut

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yzashaven · 9 months

Note

HI HI HI MAY I REQUEST THAT U WRITE MENTALLY ILL USER X SCARA DOCTOR:33 LIKE USER IS OBSESSED WITH HIM AND HE FINDS IT ADORABLE!

FEATURING ! doctor!scaramouche x mentally ill!fem!reader

CONTENTS ! reader admitted in a psychiatric hospital, attached reader, reader wears hospital gown, cunnilingus, fingering, use of darling/dear, clit and nipple stimulation, teasing, orgasm denial, neck biting

NOTE ! first of all, I'M SO SO SORRY that this took so long 😭 i loved your request and had a few ideas but couldn't find a way to write it so i had like 5 drafts for this in my notes app lmao anyway, i do hope this turned out alright and you still enjoy it even if it's really messy and is honestly a hard read for me. i'll probably redo this in the future !

a psychiatric hospital. the place where you've been spending most of your days lately. you can't remember why or when exactly you got brought here but that doesn't really matter. and now you're sitting on the edge of your bed, lost in thought as you stare at the man sitting ahead of you, doctor scaramouche. he's been responsible for treating you since the start and seems to be quite fond of you. "hey... are you listening?" your train of thought ends as you hear the sound of fingers snapping right in front of your face. apologizing briefly to him, "you have to listen carefully." he shakes his head before writing something down on a clipboard. "now... where were weㅡ" he's so charming that you can't look anywhere else, looking at him with love in your eyes. "how have you been feeling? i haven't recorded any odd or weird activity from you recently... and that's a good thing, surely you'll be out of here in no time." he smiles gently at you. no way he just said that! you didn't wanna leave and go somewhere he wasn't at.

"do i have to leave?" you asked him sadly, despite knowing the answer already. "of course you have to, darling." oh the way he'd call you by petnames never failed to make your heart race, even the sound of his voice that makes your cheeks blush cherry red. "but i don't want to! i wanna stay here with you." your words caught him off guard, earning a dark chuckle from the man. "and why is that?" "because i like you, you're here..." your face drops, looking down at the floor as reality hits you. he chuckles some more, leaving the clipboard on the bedside table nearby before making his way closer to you. scaramouche's fingers make their way under your chin to lift your face up, resulting in having eye contact between you both. "you wanna stay with me?" he says while seemingly laughing slightly, sharp eyes piercing through yours as he looks down at you. "don't be so obsessive and attached. it's time for you to go home." "scara, no... my home is where you're at~" you're practically pleading at him now to let you stay. "it's doctor scaramouche to you, darling."

"but i do think that i'll grant you permission for informalities with me." he smiles at you gently. "now... how about i give you something to remember me by, would you like that?" his fingers leave your face to step back a bit and discard his white coat as he speaks in a slightly stern yet soft tone. "come on now, get comfortable. i'll make sure you have a good time." your cheeks flush a light red as he smirks at you. making your way to the middle of the bed and sitting down comfortably as you watch him place the coat down on the chair, his slightly tight undershirt accentuating the body features on his torso.

he takes your chin in between his fingers once more before lowering himself down to eye-level and indulging you in a soft kiss, pushing you down on the bed in the process. his hand find its way along your cheek, collarbone and down to your thighs, fingers slipping under the silk white hospital gown with featherlight touches. scaramouche kneels down beside the bed and in front of you on the floor, pulling you closer by the thighs, his face only mere inches away from your heating core. "just enjoy the ride and let me do all the work, alright, darling?" he whispers seductively, constantly rubbing your inner thigh delicately, to which you let out a nearly inaudible whimper while nodding obediently.

with you watching him intently, he finally pushes away the fabric of the gown out of the way and up to your hips, granting access to your nearly soaked panties. he begins by spreading your thighs gently before teasing your slit over the cloth with a finger, dragging along the area. as you let out a soft sigh, he took it as a sign to keep going, leaning in to plant soft kisses on your clit. pulling the garments aside to reveal your glistening hole, he looks up at you with a sly smirk and teases your cunt by adding a finger and softly kisses your clit again. your fingers hurry to pull on his indigo locks in an attempt to pull him even closer. chuckling darkly, he adds another finger, two digits slowly thrusting in and out of your drenched pussy as his tongue skillfully dances with your clit, sending shiver up your spine.

as his tongue continues to stimulate your sensitive bud, his hands make their way up to fully remove the white hospital gown from your body. delicate touches against your soft skin that leave goosebumps at where they made contact. scaramouche gets up from his knees to take into sight of your helpless form on the bed; hair slightly scattered on the sheets, eyes looking at him with desperateness, body exposed to be completely at his mercy. with a long sigh in pleasure his hands went up to grope at your chest from beneath the bra before ripping it off eventually. fingers crawling back inside your tight hole while his lips attach to your nipple, lightly nibbling on the perked up area along with licking and sucking on it every now and then, sending shockwaves of pleasure throughout your body.

maintaining eye contact with you, his starts to rub your clit in slow circular motions, smiling as he watches your face contort to one of pleasure and pure ecstacy. eyeing your neck for a second, scaramouche then kisses your neck trying to find your so called sweet spot. smirking against your skin upon hearing you moan as a confirmation of finding the said area, to which he bites on it, causing your body to jolt slightly with a rather loud moan. slowly lapping at the teeth marks left as his digits pick up a faster pace. feeling your climax upcoming, you tell him so, ready to finally be able to cum on his fingers and coat them in your essence. yet he doesn't allow you to, curling them at an angle one last time, only to pull apart sooner later. moving back to observe your figure once more.

although no matter how much you kept begging for him to continue, he didn't. instead he began to get rid of his own clothes, claiming they were 'in the way of the real fun'. showing off his pretty erected cock as he pulled down his pants, stroking it slowly before pulling you closer once again. teasing your tight hole by lightly slapping his length on you and rubbing his tip along your soaking entrance. leaning in only to whisper a few words that sent you in an exhilarated state.

"i hope you're ready for me. 'cause we most definitely are not stopping."

#☾★ written »#☾★ kuni »#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #genshin smut #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #fem!reader

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libraryofgage · 5 months

Text

A Hop, a Skip, and a TARDIS Jump

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (on the way!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One (you're here!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz)

I know it says 10Rose up there, but this series starts with 9Rose, because 9 is also special blorbo in my heart hfjdks Christopher Eccleston didn't have to put his whole chest into the role but he did and I love that for him

Anyway, have fun with this one! We're getting time travel shenanigans coming up (and angst, def some angst, but it'll end sweet I promise), and a little meme at the end

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't :)

Satellite Five 200,000

Running into the woman was an accident created by the chaos of something changing on Satellite Five. Steve doesn't know what that is, exactly, but he can feel it in the air, in the way the humans around him have started rushing, in how the food stands have suddenly ground to a halt. And he comes to a halt with them, his hearts speeding up in his chest as the frenzy reminds him of another time, another planet, another chaotic scene that ended with him being launched across time and space while his home died.

When he finally gathers his wits enough to move, he turns right into a woman's leg, bumping his nose hard against her and falling to the ground with a startled cry. He holds his nose, the bridge smarting and causing his eyes to water as he looks up at a pretty young blonde woman who immediately crouches in front of him.

"Sorry about that. You all right?" she asks, her hands hovering in the air like she wants to check him for injuries but doesn't want to make him uncomfortable.

The funny thing is, Steve has seen this woman before. He saw her earlier in the day, getting into the elevator with a journalist and a man, and he assumed he'd never see her again. Nobody who got in the elevator came back. He's so overwhelmed by the shock of seeing her again that he almost misses the familiar aura around her, the lingering traces of golden space dust and passing time.

Almost.

He stares at her with wide eyes, his tears actually falling now, and then throws himself into her arms. "What took so long?!" he cries, clinging to her shirt like he'll be thrown across time and space one more time if he lets go.

"Woah, hey now, no need for crying," she says, utterly confused but gently smoothing down his hair anyway. "What's wrong?"

After taking a few moments to calm down, Steve starts to answer when he realizes something. The woman only has one heart. He can only hear one set of beats in her chest. He jerks away, his hands trembling as he stares at her. She's still covered in that familiar aura, practically swimming in it, but she's not like him.

It hurts. Steve can feel the bitter cold of disappointment replacing the hope that had started to grow between his hearts. He thought...he thought he'd get to be with someone like him again. Maybe not his original family---they're dead, long gone, and Steve is never getting them back---but a new one that wouldn't let him feel quite so alone anymore.

Maybe she was just injured. That would explain it well enough.

"Where....where's your second heart?" he asks, his voice small as he grips the hem of his shirt to steady himself. "Y-you...why do you--"

Before Steve can get the rest of the question, a man in a leather jacket, looking slightly annoyed as he checks his pockets, appears next to the woman. "Right then. C'mon, Rose, we got dead weight to drop off," he says, his tone hard.

The woman, Rose, looks up at him. "Hold on a minute, Doctor," she says, "we've got to help him find his parents first."

Steve opens his mouth, wanting to say that won't be possible, as he looks up at the man. Their eyes meet, and the words get stuck in his throat. If Rose carried lingering space dust and passing time, this man is made of it. Steve can see the gold around him, swirling and calling, singing in a way he'd forgotten about. Even the name is familiar---not that Steve knows this particular Time Lord, of course, but he knows the conventions and traditions.

"I'm afraid that'll be impossible, Rose," the Doctor says, his voice softer and full of disbelief as he crouches next to her on the ground.

"What? How do you know?"

The Doctor doesn't answer her. He just holds a hand out to Steve, waiting patiently. When Steve takes it, the world finally rights itself. He can feel the blood pumping through the Doctor's veins, fast and powerful in a way only two hearts can manage. He can practically taste time and space coating his tongue as he steps closer. When Steve places his hand on the left side of the man's chest, feeling the beating of one heart before sliding his hand over to feel the other, he cries even harder than before.

And the Doctor cries, too.

It's not a loud crying, but he pulls Steve into his arms and holds him with the same desperation and fear that he'll disappear if he loosens his grip that Steve felt when he hugged Rose. "I thought...I thought I was the only one left," the Doctor says, moving his hand to cradle the back of Steve's head.

"Doctor, what's going on here?" Rose asks.

Steve peeks out at her, and then he's lifted into the air, still held in the Doctor's arms. His jacket smells like the past and future, a soothing scent that gets Steve to relax like he hasn't in a long time. "Long story short," the Doctor says, his voice still rough from crying but recovering, "you somehow bumped into the only Time Lord child in existence." A few moments pass before he speaks again, the smile and awe clear in his voice as he says, "You're just fantastic, Rose. Fantastic."

Despite his best efforts, Steve can't keep his eyes open long enough to see how she reacts or what the Doctor does next. The exhaustion of fending for himself and pushing away the despair of losing everything sweeps over him. This could all be a dream, and the Doctor might be a figment of his imagination that disappears when he wakes up, but Steve lets himself dream for now.

--------

Hawkins, Indiana, 1971

"Okay, Steve, go ahead."

Steve glances up at his father, shifts his gaze to his mother, and then approaches the console. He reaches up and starts turning a dial, ignoring his mother's excited noise and his father's interested hum. Once he's turned it enough, he walks around the console and pulls a lever, flips a switch, and yanks another dial two notches to the right. Then, when he's sure his parents can't hear him, he leans in close and whispers, "Take me wherever you'd like me to be, TARDIS."

He feels something warm and happy surge under his fingers where he's holding the console. Not a second later, the familiar whooshing sound of the TARDIS fills the room, and Steve hang on for dear life as his father shouts, "Fantastic! Where do you think we'll land, Rose?"

"Somewhere child-friendly, hopefully," his mother replies, grabbing his father's arm and holding on for dear life.

Steve grins, his hearts beating fast and hard behind his ribs as the TARDIS slowly comes to a stop, its engine quieting to a gentle whirring as it parks. "Go on then," his father says, appearing behind Steve and nudging him to the doors. "See where you've brought us."

With his breath stuck in his throat, Steve slowly pulls the left door open. Sunlight streams into the TARDIS along with the delighted shrieks of other children and a warm wind that can only mean summer. Steve blinks, staring at the playground a few feet away.

"Oh," his father says, his tone duller than before, "seems boring."

This statement is followed by both the TARDIS making an offended noise and Steve's mother smacking his father in the chest. "Don't be rude! Boring is safe, which is good for Steve's first drive."

"Can...can I go play?" Steve asks, his voice soft as he feels a sudden longing sweeping through him. He hasn't played with people his age after leaving Gallifrey. In fact, he hasn't been around them. On Satellite Five, Steve didn't see other children. They were cared for on a different floor, and he never risked getting into the elevator.

Since leaving Satellite Five (since finding another Time Lord and basking in the TARDIS and crying together when Steve accidentally called the Doctor "Dad" and Rose "Mom"), Steve has been surrounded by Daleks and nanogenes and older humans and every alien under the sun, but he's never been around children.

The thought is exhilarating and terrifying and alluring all at once.

"Of course, Steve," his mother says, placing her hand on his head and brushing a few stray hairs from his face. "You go play, and we'll call you back in a few hours for some ice cream, yeah?"

Steve grins and nods eagerly, throwing a quick goodbye to his parents before running out of the TARDIS. He dashes across the street, coming to the edge of the playground before stopping. The grass turns into tiny rocks and pebbles beneath slides and swings and monkey bars and a merry-go-round. And kids. More kids than Steve really knows what to do with, which gives him an unfamiliar feeling of anxiety that makes him wipe his palms on his shirt.

"Hey, why are you just standing there?"

The question is asked by another boy Steve's age. His hair is a little frizzy and curls around his ears, and he's got band-aids covering his arms and stretching across the bridge of his nose. He's standing to Steve's left, holding a red rubber ball and ignoring the other kids around them.

"I've...never been here before," Steve says, meaning that he's never been in this situation.

The boy doesn't understand that, though. But when he says, "Oh, so you're new around here," Steve doesn't disagree. "Well, nice to meetcha. I'm Eddie."

He shifts to hold the ball against his chest with one arm and holds out his other hand. Taking it and shaking once, Steve introduces himself and asks, "Can we be friends?"

Eddie's eyes brighten, and he nods. "Yeah! Let's be bestest friends. Can I call you Stevie? Mom says you can give nicknames to friends."

"Sure! So, uh, what do we do now?"

Eddie pauses, looking at the playground with a slight frown. "We could play games," he says slowly.

"Oh! How about Weeping Angel?"

"What's that?"

Steve thinks for a moment. "Weeping Angels are these statues that move when you don't look at them. In the game, someone will face away, and the other person will start sneaking up on them. If the first person turns, the second has to freeze in place. If the first person sees them move, they lose. If the second person reaches the first and touches them, they win."

"It sounds like Rad Light, Green Light," Eddie says, tilting his head slightly. "But, sure! Let's play it."

Steve smiles brightly and follows Eddie to a clear patch of playground. "I'll be the Angel in this round," he offers, waiting for Eddie to agree before walking a few feet away. "Let me know when you're ready!"

Eddie turns around, still holding the rubber ball, and glances over his shoulder. He stares at Steve for a few seconds before looking away and saying, "Ready!"

As lightly as he can, Steve takes a few steps forward, doing his best to make no sounds like the Weeping Angels he's seen before. When he notices Eddie moving, he freezes, quickly placing his hands over his eyes but leaving enough room to peek between his fingers.

When Eddie turns, he's frozen in a classic Weeping Angel pose. Eddie studies him for a few seconds, eyes narrowed before slowly turning around again. Steve exhales softly, and the game continues.

Steve wins exactly three times, Eddie wins twice, and there's one round in which they both dissolve into laughter because of the position Steve freezes in, so they don't count it. When Eddie gets bored of playing, he introduces Steve to foursquare, which is why he has the rubber ball. When he gets bored of that he drags Steve around the playground, introducing him to each piece of equipment with pride.

By the time the sun has started to dip low on the horizon, Steve is sweaty and dirty and happier than he's ever felt as he hides under the slide with Eddie. They're pressed close together, sharing a popsicle Eddie's mother had given them, purple juice making their hands sticky.

"You're really cool, Stevie," Eddie suddenly says, his lips and tongue purple as he offers the last bit of popsicle to Steve.

After taking it and letting the cold ice melt on his tongue, Steve asks, "Hey, do bestest friends keep secrets that only they know?"

"Of course! Nothing is stronger than a bestest friend secret."

"But you gotta promise not to tell anyone. Not even your mom."

Eddie seems to realize this is serious now, and he straightens up a bit. "I won't," he promises, "cross my heart, hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."

That seems a bit extreme to Steve, but what does he know of human customs? He leans in close, his mouth almost pressing against Eddie's ear, and whispers, "I'm an alien."

He pulls away in time to see Eddie's disbelieving look. "What? You look human. No way you're an alien."

"I am!" Steve says. "How many hearts have you got?"

"One. Duh."

"I've got two."

Eddie snorts. "Yeah. Right. Nobody has two hearts."

"Here, you can feel them," Steve says before grabbing Eddie's hand and placing it over the left side of his chest. He waits a few seconds, making sure Eddie can feel that heart, before sliding his hand to the right side. He watches Eddie's face turn bright red, and Steve figures it's from excitement or shock at realizing Steve is, in fact, an alien.

Before Eddie can say anything, Steve hears his mother calling, "Steve! It's time to go!"

He pouts, letting go of Eddie's hand. "Aw, man," he mumbles, crawling out from beneath the slide. Eddie scrambles after him, his cheeks still flushed and his eyes wide. "I gotta go now, but I'll see you again soon, Eddie."

"Yeah, soon," Eddie mumbles, seeming dazed until he shakes his head. "Your, um, secret is safe with me, Stevie."

Steve blinks and flashes a blinding smile. "Of course it is," he says, "You're my bestest friend."

With that, he hugs Eddie and then runs to his mother, brimming with excitement at getting to tell her all about the park and Eddie.

------

If you'd like to be tagged for this series, let me know!

And, finally, a meme for your viewing pleasure:

#steddie #steddie fic #doctor who #doctor who crossover #steddie over time #that's the tag for this one bois #i'm very proud of the little pun there actually #steve harrington #eddie munson #ninth doctor #rose tyler #time lord steve harrington #ninerose #anyway thanks for reading i hope you enjoyed the meme hfdusjk

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bihanspookies · 4 months

Note

Okay I see you did Raiden’s for hand job, how about Raiden’s first blow job? I know he’d be so sensitive and hard and you just barely kissed the tip 😆 but anyway I would like to “blow” his mind with his very first blowjob

YEAAHHH BRUDDEERRR LETS GET IN IT. SORRY THIS IS A BIT LATE I GOT A LOT OF DRAFTS RN LMAO

Sequel sort of to this

Warnings: blowjobs (duh), very soft dom reader?, cum eating (from both parties, subtle on Raiden’s side lmao)

It had been a few weeks since you and Raiden’s intimate moment, the goofy and shy smile that crosses his lips every time he recalls it not going unnoticed by you. You think about what he said, about how he would love to have your mouth be the next thing to pleasure him. The image of you on your knees, his face twisted in pleasure as you take him deep in your throat, his fingers grasping the back of your head to—

“Darling? You’re spacing out again.” You blink out of your daydream and turn your head to look at him, a fond smile on his lips as he reaches over to squeeze your thigh.

“You’re blushing.” He points out, inching closer to you to kiss your cheek and squeeze your thigh again.

“Just thinking.” You mumble, your thought not completely gone from your head.

“About…?”

You know that tone, that teasing voice he uses when he knows you’re thinking about him in a not so innocent way. You can hear the grin he has and you turn your head to face him, the Earthrealm champion doing little to nothing to hide his amused expression.

“You know what.” You answer, smiling softly as you look into his dark brown eyes.

“Yes but I wish to hear you say it.” Oh how smug yet loving his voice was, your heart fluttering as you scoff at him. You roll your eyes and stand up off the couch, standing in front of him. You place your hands on his knees, leaning forward to touch your nose against his.

“I would much rather show you, Raiden.”

His grin is infectious, the excitement evident as he leans back to let you work. Ever since you had given him his first handjob, he had grown more confident in telling you what he wants and that’s more touching from you. He’s yet to tell you that he wants a blowjob because he wants you to initiate it and for you to feel comfortable doing so.

“Then please, show me.”

You kiss him on the lips before slowly sinking to your knees, your hands rubbing up and down his thighs to get him more in the mood. If only you truly knew that just your presence and a few words already has him growing hard behind his pants. You can see the bulge forming and you lean forward to kiss it, Raiden’s hips twitching from your touch.

“Darling…”

His voice is shy now, that beautiful red hue coloring his ears as he forces himself to watch you get ready to please him.

“Sh, Raiden. Let me take care of you.”

He swallows hard, fingers flexing into the couch cushions as he observes the way you swiftly undo his pants and pull them down along with his briefs. His cock is half hard but it doesn’t take long for it to become fully erect, especially when you wrap your fingers around him to stroke him.

His eyes flutter, head leaning back against the couch as he feels you go to his tip to gather the precum that’s formed at the top to spread over the rest of him. He lets out a shuddering breath, putting all his years of training to work to not blow his load before you even put your pretty lips on him.

He lifts his head to look at you, just in time to watch you drop a ball of spit over him. He groans and places a hand on your cheek, swiping across right under your eye to grab your attention. You look up at him and wink, not giving him any time to prepare before you kiss his leaking tip, your tongue just barely licking across his flushed head.

He whimpers softly, dropping himself back onto the back of the couch before you call his name sweetly.

“Raiden?”

He looks at you, the red on his ears now starting to color his cheeks.

“I want you to watch me, my love.”

He nods, his stomach tensing when you finally wrap your lips around his tip and give a firm suck. He hands search for something to grab, one settling on top of your head while the other lays on his thigh. His mouth drops open when you slowly descend on the rest of him, your warm mouth sending bolts of pleasure up his spine.

“Oh Gods, darling—“ He’s cut off when you finally reach the base, his finely trimmed hair tickling your nose. You hum around him, sending vibrations up his shaft and through his body, sweet whimpers filling your ears when he realizes just how good your mouth truly feels.

He resists the urge to rock his hips up, wanting to go at your pace but he can feel his resolve slipping the more you pleasure him with your tongue. His hand just barely pushes you back down and you allow him to do so, letting him move you at whatever pace he desires.

It’s slow but he doesn’t mind, he’s not in a rush to finish anytime soon and he wants to engrave the sight of you on your knees with his cock in your mouth into his brain forever. You push against his hand to remove yourself and he lets you do so, his hand falling from your head. His face is red from your ministrations, his hand coming back to lovingly pinch your cheek.

“Are you alright, love?” You ask in a murmur, using your hand to continue stimulating him. He nods, shifting his hips more into your touch.

“Very. Please…”

You place a wet kiss to his tip before engulfing him once again, making him loudly moan and replace his hand back on top of your head. You move a bit faster now, hollowing your cheeks to creature more suction and using your fingers to touch whatever wasn’t in your mouth.

Raiden can feel his muscles begin to tense up, his balls tightening as he feels his end nearing. He tries to warn you, to speak up but your tongue just feels so so good wrapped around him.

And when you swallow him all the way at the base, it’s what sends him over the edge.

Without warning he cries softly and releases his seed into your mouth, his hips jutting upwards into you as he rides out his climax. You didn’t mind however, the knowledge that you left him speechless was such a boost to your ego. You swallow his seed and kept moving on his cock, licking a broad stripe on the underside before sucking tenderly on his tip. Raiden whines and gently pushes you off him, a fucked out lazy grin on his lips as he moves forward to wipe a drop of himself off your mouth.

He pulls you up and into a kiss, his tongue prodding past your lips and tasting the faint remains of himself.

“Thank you, my love.” He whispers, placing a few more kisses before traveling to your cheek and then forehead. You laugh softly, resting your face in his neck.

“You’re welcome, Raiden.”

You feel him adjust against you and think he’s going to properly seat you in his lap until he moves you to lay on the couch, settling himself in between your legs.

“I think it’s time that I finally repay the favor, hm?”

This is the fucking face I picture him making when he asks you what you’re thinking about 🤨

#mortal kombat x reader #raiden x reader #raiden #my writings #asks

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mixvyu · 7 months

Text

Parfum d’étoile - episode fourty-one

scaramouche x reader smau

previous | masterlist | next

You weren’t late this time.

You were in front of your door gripping the fabric of your clothes in one hand and holding your phone in the other, waiting for him to text.

You turned your phone off then right back on to check the time.

3:32pm

Scaramouche’s classes ended at 3 and he texted you to let you know he’d stop by his dorm room to change but he was awfully long.

You started to think he might’ve stood you up and that you looked utterly stupid standing there.

As you started thinking that, he suddenly texted.

You could only see so much of the text on the notification that was displayed on your screen but you could read the words

‘Sorry, lots of things happened so I’m not…’

Your stomach dropped and you didn’t even want to read the rest of the text message but you were way too curious to not do so.

‘Sorry lots of things happened so i’m not gonna be able to pick u up rn but i’ll be there in less than 20 i swear’

You sighed in relief and your thumbs flew over your keyboard to text back.

´Dpn’t start a rext like tjat beo u scaref me… its finr tho i was gonba be late 2 neways.´

That was a lie.

´Good i feel less bad now’

He added a crying emoji at the end of his sentence, something out of character for him. You couldn’t tell if it was supposed to express relief or if he was making fun of you.

The cold air made your fingers shaky and it made it hard to type correctly but he didn’t seem to pay any mind to that.

You’ve been standing outside for almost 40 minutes now. The weather was awful and it even looked like rain would start pouring at any moment now. You felt like moving from your spot would be like giving up on him like standing in lines for something you’ve been waiting for all week and then chickening out and leaving your spot out of weakness but you got tired of standing there and sent him a text before even thinking about it.

‘Hey uh i’m not feeling that good laybe we should cancel ?’

You regretted it as soon as you sent it but he already read it so it was too late to unsend

‘? Are you sure??

You closed your phone as soon as you saw his reply, not wanting to answer or to face what you did but you realised he would see the read sign and that there was no getting out of this one.

‘Nvm i can manage haha!! I just need to take a pill i’ll be good’

You lied again.

Scaramouche replied almost immediately.

‘If you’re not feeling well we can do that another day i wouldn’t want to force you’

You clenched your jaw. You never understood his mood swing, how he could clown you one second then be the most caring person you’ve met the next it was almost annoying.

‘It’s okay!! I’m already ready anyways i wouldn’t want to waste a good outfit lmao’

Now it was your turn to use a crying emoji, still not sure of what it was supposed to express.

‘Ok :(‘

You chuckled at the frowny face. That too was out of character.

After ten minutes, there were still no sight of him.

You felt like every person that walked passed knew what situation you were in and were just pitying you and god it made you feel like shit.

Maybe waiting at home would’ve been smarter.

Just as you thought that a car you recognised pulled up.

You got up abruptly, opened the door in one swift movement and threw yourself on the passager seat without even looking at who was inside the vehicle.

You let yourself sink into the seat, sighing happily as the warm air hit your skin. And just as you thought you couldn’t get more comfortable you heard his voice

"Hey, so sorry i’m late i hope you didn’t have to wait for too long." Scaramouche said

You finally looked at him for the first time today

He was wearing black baggy pants but you couldn’t tell which top he decided to put on because of the coat covering it.

"It’s fine don’t worry. ‘Was just a bit cold."

"I have a jacket in the back, do you want to borrow it ?"

"Yeah i’d love to!"

He reached for the back seat without looking and pulled out a white jacket.

He handed it to you without a word and put his hand back on the steering wheel when you took it from his hands.

You put it on quickly and felt a tad bit disappointed when you recognise Kazuha’s signature cologne on it.

It wasn’t Scaramouche’s.

" So ? Where are we going ?" He said, finally breaking the silence

"Uhmm I’m not sure anymore… Do you want to go to the aquarium ?"

"Uh sure if that’s what you want"

"You don’t really seem enthusiastic."

"Fishes aren’t my thing to be honest, but if they’re yours…"

"What’s your thing then ?"

"I don’t know."

You let out a long sigh

"You’re not helping me ! Just pick a place and we’ll go !"

"You were the one that was supposed to plan it ! Why do I have to choose ?!"

God you forgot how annoying he could be.

"Ok, ok. What about the zoo ?"

"It’s like an hour drive, though…"

"The arcade ??"

"I don’t have any coins."

"The museum ?"

"It’s a bit boring isn’t it ?"

"Ok just kill yourself." You let out a sound that could only be described as a growl "where do you want to go ?"

"Anywhere is fine" he stopped the car engine realising that decided where to go was going to take longer than intended

"Anywhere is not fine ! You don’t like any of my suggestions."

"I mean, yeah they suck but if you want to go then we’ll go. Everything is fine if you’re here."

"Don’t try to romance me, asshole ! My suggestions are great !"

"I already went to all those places a thousand times so it’s not really interesting frankly."

You mumbled an almost inaudible ‘sorry rich boy’ before sighing for the thousandth time

"What about that library/coffee shop at the mall ? They opened like a week ago."

He turned to look at you so fast you thought he’d snap his neck

"They’re open?! Why didn’t you tell me that before ?! Let’s go !" He said restarting the car.

★

You took a seat at one of the few tables that were in place at the back of the library.

You hoped to use that face to face moment to talk to Scaramouche more before having to tell him that you like him even thought you don’t know him as much as you wish you did.

But that hope quickly died down when you saw that he did everything but stay in place.

He seemed to love books more than anything because he was going from aisle to aisle grabbing some of them so that he could read the back and either putting them back where they belong or nesting them under his arm.

After 20 minutes of that he sat down in front of you, pushed his cup aside and put down the 7 books he had picked up.

Some were novels, some were mangas, some were comics. The genre also seemed to be very different from one book to another.

"I’m so happy they restocked, i’m going to read all of them as fast as possible." He said, taking a sip of his coffee and making a funny face when he realised it was now lukewarm.

"So… you like books, eh ?" You laughed, not finding anything else to say to start a conversation

"Yeah, books are great."

"What’s your favourite ?"

He leaned even more into the backrest of his chair

"Uhm… if i had to say one it would probably be…"

He clicked his tongue not really knowing what to answer

"Oh ! The house of leaves is a super cool one ! I love it !" He exclaimed in a ‘obviously why didn’t i think of that one before’ voice.

"Oh really ? I never heard of it i should check it out."

"What’s your favourite ?"

"Uhm… I don’t really know"

He nodded.

If the entirety of the date was going to be this way, it was going to feel painfully awkward.

★

The walk back to the car was awkward as well even after the many attempts that both of you had at making conversation.

Scaramouche looked as good as ever even though he still didn’t discard of his coat and you were dying to see what was underneath and what kind of outfit he managed to pull together this time.

While in the parking lot, you noticed a few people staring at him and it almost made you feel proud.

"You feeling ok ?" He asked as soon as the car doors closed " you shouldn’t have forced yourself to come if you were feeling bad."

"I’m fine. It’s fine." You sighed "i’m fine."

"The more you say it the less i believe you." He laid his palm against your forehead "well, you don’t feel hot so that’s great." His hand traveled from your forehead to your cheek.

´If you keeps touching you like that, I might start feeling hot.´ you thought but didn’t dare to say out loud.

He looked at your eyes then your lips then your eyes again and you hoped to God he’d just kiss you but instead he took his hand off your face and rested his head back into the car seat headrest.

"So ? Where are we going next ?"

"Uhm…" you checked the time. It was already pushing 8pm "we could go eat."

"Sure that’s fine by me. Where ?"

"I’ll let you pick" you said trying to sound gentlemanly but knowing it was only because you had no idea what to pick and judging by his face, you didn’t fool him.

"We could go to a japanese restaurant."

"Don’t you already eat japanese at home ? It’s a bit boring for you isn’t it ?"

"It’s fine i haven’t had it in a while and i miss it. I’m doing this for me mostly."

You knew he was lying.

"I saw some leftovers when i went over, though ? If you want me to try it just say so." You teased

All he did was hum before starting the car engine."

★

Unlike what you expected, you weren’t face to face with him but instead sitting next to each other at a sushi bar.

"I haven’t had sushi in forever." You clapped your hands, excited for the huge free meal you were about to get.

"I could eat those forever, i’ll never get tired."

You downed the 4 makis you grabbed on the moving tray as soon as they were in front of you.

Before you could even grab something else, a green plate of three tempura was gently placed on top of the plate you just cleaned.

"Are you trying to shut me up ?"

"How’d you guess ?" He smirked half jokingly. "Try those next"

"If you insist !"

You took a bite out of it but before you could have a second one you suddenly felt like somebody was looking at you.

"What ? Were you planning on eating those or something ?" You didn’t have to stare back at him to know that it was his eyes that were gazing at you.

"No, no."

You took a second bite but almost choked when you felt his cold palm on your cheek.

You pulled away startled and uncomfortable by the sudden cold.

"What’s your deal, dude ?" You said, feeling your face heating up.

"Just checkin’ to see if you felt less warm than earlier."

"You said I didn’t feel warm at all earlier."

He looked away staring down at the plate of sushi he helped himself to previously

"Checking to see if it feel warmer then, i guess."

"God, you’ll be the death of me one day."

★

"You should take me out more often."

"Just so you can use me and drain my finances ? No way, i’m never doing this again."

You were leaning against the car, trying your best not to cough as the smoke from the cigarette Scaramouche lit made it’s way through your nostrils.

He seemed to noticed, telling you at least five time that if the smell was bothering you, he could open up the car and you could enjoy all the clean air you wanted but you so desperately wanted to stay close to him.

"Do you smoke a lot ?"

Scaramouche brought the cigarette to his lips, nestling it between them before inhale deeply. He brought it back to his side before releasing the breath he was holding, creating a cloud of fog in front of him.

He took so long to answer you thought he didn’t hear

"Not really. Tonight’s just a great night for a smoke." He finally said.

"How so ?"

He turned and glanced at you before looking up to the sky.

"The sun is setting, the sky is a mix of purple and orange, we’re in an empty parking lot talking about trivial stuff, it’s a friday night. It’s great for a smoke."

You giggled "When did you become so poetic ?"

He sat down, back against the driver’s side door and you did the same.

He put his cigarette out on the floor and rested his head on your shoulder.

"Are you tired ?" You asked, trying to stop your voice from cracking

"Yeah. Just a bit. Do you want to go anywhere else ?"

"No, not today."

Silence installed itself, a non awkward one this time. Only the sound of the wind let itself be heard and the few screams and giggles from the skatepark not too far.

"I love you, kuni."

He straightened up instantly

"What ?"

"I think I do ? Have feelings for you, I mean. I’m pretty certain."

"Wait… Huh ??"

You got up before he could even make sense of the situation

"Today was nice. I live not too far so i’ll walk. Thank you for driving me around." If you had the guts you would’ve kissed his forehead

You fled before he even had the chance to speak.

Extras !

• car seat headrest reference

• "erm i don’t like sushi 🤓☝️" WELL TOO BAD 👎👎

★彡Taglist! [open]

@gekkow-deactivated20230703 @aemiko @veekoko @kichiyoshi @scaramouchelover4ever @sukunasrealgf @lxkeeeee @kunisblog @yukiipc @brfrtbrt @simpforsubmissivemen @featuredtofu @fanfictionenthusiast @beriiov @lyzisbitchingagain @bluebelony @ryomiye @reinoodle @bananasquash @mikukksks @sakiimeo @kitanablades @pennyluvr @sakurapeach @crystalsguitar @feiherp @deluluangell @gracefulace200 @apinu @elernity @st4romii @cayl33n @ahseya @yelleloww @prettiestgirlxoxo @yoichiislovie @silly-ez @helix-frscr @morima2137 @boxedbest @serossidechick @yuraasia @xirthia @anastaxiah @angeilix @gyuhairclips @mikalei @yuuichilover @kacelah @sketcheeee @beebotea @keqing15 @yourmotherslover420 @m00mie-m00 @kyon-cherri @jkcryzzlis @im-inlovewithy0u @milceslv @certaindreampost @meowmeowmau @nnasv

#genshin #genshin x reader #genshin smau #★彡 parfum d’étoile #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi smau #kunikuzushi x reader #wanderer #wanderer smau #wanderer x reader

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once-in-a-blood-moon · 2 months

Note

Jooooo!!! Hiya!!!! Can i request solomon + tell no lie? I just think this prompt kinda suits him lmao. Lots of love!! 🫶🫶🫶

Solomon - Tell No Lie

Solomon x GN! reader

Prompt: It’s impossible to lie to your soulmate.

AN: Hi Ven!!! Much love to you as well!! 💜 Sorry for the delay, but anyways this is kind of a silly fic based on a thought I had of Solomon sometime ago, and thought it worked well with the prompt...or at least I hope it did 😅 I really hope you enjoy it! Thank you for being patient and take care of yourself!!

Warnings: Solomon referring to reader as dear, darling, and beautiful, Solomon being Solomon shenanigans (I promise!), slight miscommunication but nothing angsty, established soulmate connection/relationship

Another stressful day babysitting the Avatars of Sin, you can hardly wait to go back to Cocytus Hall where it’s significantly more peaceful and quiet…as long as Solomon hasn’t snuck into the kitchen while you were away.

You have your D.D.D. up to your ear as you wait for the sorcerer to pick up, wanting to let him know you’re on your way and that Lucifer is escorting you this evening. You hear the faint shut of the door behind you as Lucifer joins you out under the front awning, staying quiet as he notices your ear-to-phone stance.

The phone goes to the last ring, and you don’t think Solomon’s going to pick up – which is odd because normally he picks up in less than two if it’s you – but he does at the last second, sounding as carefree as ever.

“Ah, hello, my dear. Ready to come back home?”

“Yeah, though Lucifer offered to walk me back,” you reply, giving Lucifer a quick appreciative grin, which he returns as he waits patiently beside you, “we’re just leaving now.”

The sorcerer hums softly. “I see. I’ve…had something come up, so that works out perfectly then.” You pick up his nervous tone with ease and know automatically something’s troubling him.

“...Is everything okay?” You know that a question like that is his weakness. Really…any and all of your questions are his weakness. They’re inescapable, unavoidable, and you like that you can use that to your advantage often.

He answers a hair too quickly, probably hoping you won’t interrogate him further, while still being truthful. “Yeah! Yes. Everything is great, I think.”

“Uh-huh… So, what is this “something,” Solomon?”

There’s a delay in the answering this time. You can almost even hear him trying to physically restrain himself from saying anything, but it’s no use. He cannot lie to you – not that he likes to anyway, but there are things better left unsaid sometimes.

Solomon sighs into the phone as the truth pushes past his lips, “I have a kid...”

To say you are dumbfounded is an understatement. You’re silent for longer than is comfortable, blinking slowly and unable to formulate any questions. Once you gather yourself, you fill your lungs as you try to grapple with what he just said.

“I’m sorry… What?!” The alarm in your voice is quite apparent, causing Lucifer to glance over in worry, wondering if he should get involved or not.

On the other side of the line, there’s some crashing sounds and light scolding from Solomon that’s hard to make out. It seems he’s holding the phone away from him. He soon brings the phone back to his ear with words coming out in a rushed flurry.

“I need to go, I’ll see you when you get back home!” Before you even get the chance, the sorcerer hangs up on you, and you’re left just as clueless as you started. You pocket your phone, your body tense and thoughts nervous for what you’re about to go home to.

Lucifer picks up on this as the both of you start your way towards the iron-wrought gate. “Is everything alright?”

You sigh in response, shaking your head as you try to sort out the conversation in your head. “Honestly…I have no idea.”

Due to how shocked and concerned you are, with millions of questions buzzing in your head, the walk to Cocytus Hall is silent. You also feel your heart in the pit of your stomach as you wonder what this means for Solomon and yourself. Lucifer doesn’t prod you any further, which you’re thankful for because what are you supposed to tell him?

Once you arrive, you thank Lucifer for escorting you before heading directly inside to see for yourself just what the hell is happening.

The first thing you notice upon entering is the odd smell wafting throughout the hall. It doesn’t smell anything like the chemical warfare Solomon cooks up in the kitchen with its distinct odor, so that’s at least a relief. You venture further in, making your way to the common room to see if the sorcerer is there.

Your foot crosses the threshold, but pauses mid-step as your eyes land on something black and fuzzy laying on the couch.

“Me-e-eh.”

“What the-” you start, but you recognize the sound of footsteps approaching from behind and you quickly glance over your shoulder to see Solomon with a little metal bowl filled with water. His eyes are trained on the bowl, simultaneously lost in his thoughts while making sure not to spill any, so when you clear your throat to get his attention, his head snaps up instantly.

He plasters on a cheerful smile which reaches his eyes upon seeing you home. “Welcome home, darling.”

You say nothing, now standing with your arms crossed as you stare at him with a blank expression as if waiting for him to explain why there is a baby goat sitting on the couch. Solomon lets out a sheepish chuckle as he rubs the back of his neck, indicating that he knows you know now.

“What do you think? He’s cute, no?”

“He’s cute, alright…” you pause, taking a peek at the little thing which is staring back at you in curiosity. You turn back to Solomon. “Is this the “kid” you mentioned earlier?”

A beat of silence passes between you two before he replies, “...yes.”

Your brows knit together so hard you might just start knitting a sweater with them. “Solomon, why didn’t you just tell me it was a baby goat? Wouldn’t that have been, oh I don’t know, simpler? I thought something else was going on!”

His eyes dart from yours to the bowl in his hands, feeling a bit ashamed of himself for worrying you so much. “I suppose so, but I didn’t lie to you. He is technically a kid.”

The sound of tiny hooves clicking against the wood floor draws your attention back to the goat, who trots its way over to the two of you, looking almost expectantly at Solomon. He smiles softly as he crouches down to set the bowl of water before the small creature.

“Here you go, little guy.” The goat sniffs at the bowl, inspecting it, before tentatively lapping at the cool, fresh water within. Solomon reaches a hand out and gently strokes its fuzzy back, gazing at it fondly. It seems the two have already bonded. You almost can’t be mad with how cute this scene is to you.

A little smile tugs at your lips as you start again. “Where did he come from?”

Solomon glances back up to you. “Would you believe me if I told you I honestly just found him wandering around down here in the street?”

“I kinda have to. You can’t lie to me.”

He chuckles in response. “Indeed I cannot. Though, you can’t lie to me either, my beautiful soulmate.”

“Hey, you can’t just throw some sweet words my way and think you can get away with this. You really had me spooked earlier,” a faint chuckle weaves its way through your words, finding this whole thing ridiculous. Still, you can’t deny how flattered you are, because you know it’s the truth.

He truly does see you that way.

“I know, I know. Flattery will get me nowhere… But you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he says as he shrugs with a hint of a smirk. “Anyways, I plan on looking into some notable farms in the human realm and contacting them to see if any of them are interested in taking him. He can’t stay here, unfortunately, as this wouldn’t be a sustainable life for him. But for now, he’s ours.” Solomon stands to full height and snakes his arms around your waist.

You grin as your hands come up to rest along his shoulders. “Ours?”

Solomon chuckles softly with a nod. “Yes,” he pauses for a moment, glancing down at the little goat who looks back up at him and “mehs” at him loudly. “I’ll think I’ll even let you name him.”

#valentine's soulmate event #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me fluff #obey me solomon #obey me solomon x reader #jo writes

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swimmingismywholelife · 1 year

Text

Inspiration

Dedicated to the Puli girls who have given me inspo to start writing again! (Also this is my first bit of writing in literal years please be nice to me lmao) (Also also if I missed anyone in the tags sorry I’m lowkey running late for work so that’s my bad just let me know if you wanna be added!)

Summary: Even though the press conference is supposed to be about him, Christian can't help but look over at the one who he really owes the win to.

Warnings: Nothing this is just straight fluff lmao.

Word Count: 1004

You loved supporting your boyfriend. Truly Christian Pulisic was one of the most hardworking people you’d ever met, and you admired the passion he had everywhere he went. After all, it was one of the qualities that led to you falling for him in the first place. The past few weeks had been difficult for him, but he pushed through and never gave up (not that you would let him anyway). He deserved all the praise he received because he worked hard to better himself every single day, and you never turned down the opportunity to show the world just how proud you were of him.

Hence why you were seated off to the side, “Pulisic” being proudly displayed across your back while he finished up his press conference with Weston. He’d had so many setbacks within the past few months, and you knew he was frustrated with being away from the pitch for so long. Throughout the game were a few times you gritted your teeth, praying he wouldn’t aggravate his injury, but it was nothing Christian couldn’t handle. He’d just had two assists and a goal against Grenada, helping his team officially qualify for the Gold Cup in the summer. To top it all off, he’d done it with symbol of Captain wrapped around his bicep. You couldn’t have asked for a better game for him.

Yet despite this press conference meant to celebrate the team’s win, Christian insisted you be there throughout the entire interview. Christian was so proud of the way his team played, and he was pretty happy with his performance. But for him, the best part of his night didn’t come from any of his assists. It didn’t come from the comfortable lead the boys had throughout the entire game. Hell, it didn’t even come from the goal he didn’t think he’d end up getting.

No, rather Christian was most happy that you were right there in the stands by his side, just like you always were. Ever since he got injured, he’d spent weeks frustrated that he couldn’t play like he wanted to. He knew what people had been saying about him online, and he wanted nothing more than to prove them wrong. But despite the negativity that suffocated him, you were the light that he needed to keep going. You centered him, helping him remember what he was doing and why he was doing it. You constantly inspired him to be the best version of himself that he could be. Even when he doubted himself, you always had enough belief in him for the both of you.

Christian wanted the world to know just how much you meant to him, even if it was just you sitting off to the side as he answered questions. He snuck glances at you every so often, his eyes full of love. He adored how incredibly breathtaking you looked tonight. Christian always thought you were the most beautiful thing in this world, but he couldn’t help but admire you even more as you sat there, eyes twinkling with pride and his last name across your back.

“This question is for Christian,” one of the interviewers said.

His head snapped back in front of him, wanting to give the man his full attention.

“I noticed that throughout the night, you’ve kept peeking your head off to the side. Is there any particular reason as to why?”

Christian blushed ever so slightly, Weston slightly nudging his friend teasingly.

“Um yeah. Sorry this isn’t gonna be about football and I might go on a bit of a tangent, but it’s because my incredible girlfriend is sat over there. She’s actually part of the reason I played so well today.”

He chuckled a bit, his eyes lighting up with excitement the more he spoke.

“She’s been so incredibly supportive throughout my entire career, and especially throughout these past few weeks. Getting injured was pretty rough for me, but she’s kept me pretty level headed. Even when I was at my lowest, her faith in me overpowered any negativity I had. She’s my good luck charm for sure, and I don’t think I ever would’ve made it this far if it wasn’t for her.”

He looked over at you once again. You were on the verge of tears, your heart feeling like it could burst at any moment. You were so in love with this man and truly you couldn’t believe how you managed to find someone like him.

“Every day I thank God for allowing me to be a part of her life because I can’t imagine anyone else really. Like honestly, I’m so much better because of her, both on and off the field. So yeah, I know tonight was a great game, but the best part for me was the fact that my girl was in the crowd wearing my jersey and cheering us on. And so yeah if you’ve seen me looking off to the side, it’s because I remind myself just how lucky I really am to have her.”

The crowd aw’ed at Christian’s proclamation. He’s right, his answer wasn’t really about football. But it was clear to everyone in that room that to him, you were just as important to the game as any practice Christian could’ve put in. Though he had won the game that night, he felt like every day he won because he had you by his side.

The interview continued on for a little while longer, but Christian continuing looking right at you. For now, your last name was only on in the form of his jersey. But he knew one day that it would be your last name too because there was no one else he would’ve wanted to spend the rest of his life with. And as the two of you smiled shyly at each other as though you were the only ones in the room, the genuine love you and Christian shared touched all who you were lucky enough to witness it.

Taglist: @neverinadream @pulisicsgirl @masonspulisic @lovelynikol16 @chelseagirl98 @bracedes

#christian pulisic #christian pulisic imagine #christian pulisic x reader #christian pulisic fluff #swimmingismywholelife

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hxjikonn · 10 months

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Hello again~! May i request Lilia and Malleus react with reader who tried to create an Ai resemble of themself cuz human life are too short and they don't want them to feel sad when they are gone.

Avid angst enjoyer here thanking you for this wonderfully hurtful idea, also I’m sorry this took so long lmao😭🫶🏻 hope you enjoy it!

——————————————————————————

‘Till forever falls apart

☆Staring☆: Malleus Draconia and Lilia Vanrouge x GN! Reader

Synopsis: How would they react finding out you’ve been working on creating an AI version of yourself so that they’ll have you with them even when you’re gone

Warnings: Mentions of Death, A lot of crying.

Malleus Draconia

“Ah…” you gasped, waking up in a cold sweat, you didn’t have any nightmares however you knew what you were feeling was worse…fear…pure fear. You clutched on to your shirt, feeling your heart beat, hearing it thump in your ears. Grim woke up to the sound of your breathing “Hey…are you okay?” He sat up rubbing his eye with his paw, “I’m fine Grim…it’s just…it’s happening again…” you said patting his head.

The cat frowned upon your response, but you only returned his expression with a smile “Dont worry about me…you can go back to sleep, I’ll come back to bed in a second…” you scratched behind his ear attempting to woo him to sleep, “Where you going anyway?” He asked, already half asleep. “Just somewhere…don’t worry about it” you gave him more head pats until finally he fell back into a slumber.

As you leave the room, you headed to the lounge area, there you opened your laptop at started coding, a little skill you learned from Idia, you sighed and stopped typing for awhile. “Why am I doing this…” you asked yourself burrying yourself into your palms, tears start to well up in your eyes, the truth of it all was that the reason of your fear was simple. It was death.

And no not death itself, but what and who you’ll leave behind when you die. You’re afraid of leaving him. You knew that a lifespan of a fae such as Malleus lasted a lot longer than yours, and as much as you wanted to stay by his side forever, you couldn’t. So you had a talk with Idia a few weeks back about creating an AI version of yourself.

He was against it at first, but he knew what it felt like to lose someone, and he didn’t wish that upon anyone, so he taught you how…and here you are. You thought it’d be easy to do this, it’s just precaution you said, but ever since you started, you feared the day you’d disappear would be closer.

You hugged your knees and cried, you couldn’t anything other than that, it’s not like you had magic like the others, or half fae like sebek. There wasn’t any other way. “Why are you crying my love?” a soft whisper from behind you was heard, before you could even look back, he had picked you up and placed you on his lap, enveloping you in his warmth.

“Malleus?? What are you doing here?” You looked up at him, your cheeks still had tears running down them. “I felt that you were upset…so I came…” he said, “now it’s your turn to answer…” he adds. You looked back down onto your hands “I just watched a sad movie…” you lied. “It must’ve been a very sad movie considering you were shaking before I held you…” he didn’t buy your excuse.

You only nodded at his response, feeling him beside you only made the fear worse, your mind racing with thoughts like how you wont ever get to be held by him like this again once you die…you’ll never hear his voice…you wont be able to hug him again… suddenly your thoughts were interrupted with 3 words, 3 simple words that broke you. “I’m also afraid.” He said.

You couldn’t respond you didn’t know what to say so you let him continue as you hold yourself together. “Time is a very cruel creature. It yields no magic, it doesn’t even commit violence but it wipes away many many lives…” the tone of his voice had a slight shake in them. Desperately trying to not talk about this topic, you faked a yawn “Mal…I’m a bit tired…I think I’ll go rest” you said as you stood up, shutting your laptop and walking away.

You didn’t want to talk about this, this is what you’ve been keeping from him, you don’t want to hurt him, it’s the exact reason why you chose to create your AI version. “I’m afraid of losing you too…” he spoke. It was as if you were shattered, you heard the loud thumping of your heart in your ears again as well as the cold traces your tears leave on your cheeks.

“I’m scared…each passing day I think about the clock of your lifespan running out, it scares me. I don’t want to think about the day when you leave me…” he confessed, you didn’t even hear him walk towards you but you suddenly felt his arms on your waist. You felt his tears staining your shirt. It hurts. You trembled in his embrace, shaky breaths escape your lips.

“They deemed me one of the one of the 5 most powerful wizards in the world but even I’m scared of time taking you away…” He whispers weakly, “however I don’t want anyone other than you, not even a copy…” he adds, you turn to face him in shock. “How did you…” “I love you too much to not know what you’re thinking about my love” he interrupts. “I’m sorry…” you apologized, breaking into a fit of sobs.

He held you close also erupting into cries, “I don’t want to leave you…I don’t want you to feel alone again, I want you to see that I’m here even though I’m gone….” You explained hugging him. “But it’s not you…” he answered. “You can program it to be you as much as you want but I’d rather accept the fact that I’ve loved you until your last moments than to play pretend with a copy of what you used to be…” he finishes, kissing your forehead, then your nose and finally your lips.

“I love you…and even though I know it’ll come one day, I’ll spend every second loving you, caring for you, and being with you until then.” He held you as if you were porcelain, as if you could break at the slightest touch, as if you’d disappear if he lets you go. You hiccuped and sniffled holding on to him as well, you never wanted to let go.

Suddenly the fear that had been clouding your mind left. The storm had passed, everything felt okay again. You grew tired after a long while of tears and sorrow, Malleus took the initiative to take you to bed. But he didn’t return to diasomnia that night. He didn’t want to be far from you, not now, not ever.

Lilia Vanrouge

You we’re excited to see him, your lover, you had a very special gift to show him today. You finally finished it, after long hours, nights, days, weeks, months of preparation it’s finally done. An innocent gift, you had no ill intentions in making this. All you wanted was to make him happy, even if you’re not there with him one day.

“Come on! Just a little bit further” you held on to his shoulders, pushing him towards the room as he was blindfolded “My dear you’ve been pushing me for the past 5 minutes now, when can I see your little surprise?” Lilia said, unknowing of what it is. You two finally reached the room where the “gift” was and you were do excited for him to see, though you had to admit it hurt nonetheless…you were doing this for him

“Okay…you can take your blindfold off now” you said as you stood infront of your lover, he reluctantly took his blindfold off and met eyes with you, ��What? Is the surprise to be alone with you in a room? If it is I’m absolutely loving it” he said cupping your face lovingly. You laughed and took his hands off your face gently, “No…well I mean yes, but right now you’ll see two of me…” you said, hinting at what lays ahead

He gazes at you, both confusion and amusement lingers in his eyes, he crosses his arms smiling waiting for you to reveal whatever it is you had planned, the moment you did though…his smile died along with his amusement….he looks at it with nothing but bafflement and sadness “What is this?”were the only words that left him…

“It’s me!” You beamed at him showing him the holographic replica you made of yourself, “I made me, for you” you awkwardly stated, now saying it out loud it sounded bad, “B-but! I made it because-“ Lilia cuts you off before you could even redeem yourself

“No Y/n.” he says sternly. “Lilia I just-“ he cuts you off once again “No Y/n. Whatever this is…I don’t like it…I don’t appreciate it.” He says motioning to the holographic version of yourself, his expression pained, upset, confused and angry. “I’m not gonna be here forever Lilia…nor can I live as long as you” you defended yourself

“And you think this is gonna make me feel at ease?!Having a version of you, that I cant touch, that I can speak to but has computerized answers, some kind of moving picture that isn’t living…this thing is not you.” He snaps back angrily, he gazes at the hologram filled with spite. Making you tear up a bit, you had figured this would be one of the reactions you’d get, though you hadn’t prepared for it as much as you thought…

“I’m scared Lilia, I’m afraid of leaving…I don’t want you to feel like you’ve lost me one day when my human body gives up on me…I cant stay even though I want to so this the best I could do” you choked back tears…looking at the floor filled with hurt and fear, fear for the day that waits, the day that you pass away…leaving him forever.

You thought you finally made Lilia hate you, maybe it was for the best you thought, maybe it’s better he hates you than loves you, that way when you’re gone, it wont hurt him as much. You heard footsteps on the wooden floor, in your mind, you told yourself Lilia was leaving now…so you stayed put, shut eyes and head hanging low.

But unexpectedly, you felt a warm, loving, and strong embrace, it felt like the last push you needed to let out the tears you’ve been holding back, and you did. “I’d rather miss you everyday for as long as I live, than having to ease the pain of not having you with this contraption…” He says in a hushed tone while comfortingly rubbing your back

“I’d rather spend the rest of my days thinking about the memories we’ve made when you were here, than to make new fake memories with a hologram…” he adds, you continued to sob and hold him weakly, feeling as if every word he spoke was a dagger through your chest, but something you also needed to hear.

“I’ve been knew about this the moment I decided to love you, I knew you weren’t going to be with me forever, I knew you were going to leave first, but I wasn’t scared, because I promised myself I’d spend every waking day with you, making our time together memorable…so that when you leave I’d know…that I made you happy while you were here…and that you’ve spent your mortal years contently…” Lilia spoke, his voice quivering but also spoke to you with the gentlest tone.

He backs away slightly to give you a short but passionate kiss, then he pulls away putting his forehead on yours, tears both staining your cheeks as they trailed down from your eyes “I love you, only you, no one else, nothing else, just you. The Y/n I can hug, and kiss, and laugh with…you.” Lilia smiles sadly, wiping your cheek with her thumbs.

You nod, still feeling the tears continuously flowing, Your lover pulled you back into his tight but loving embrace, it felt safe…like all your worries being washed away, you knew now that everything was going to be okay, all you needed was him, as long as he was with you, nothing else mattered.

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A/N: Heyyyy so here’s a little something that’s been on my drafts for the longest time now 😭🤚🏻 I’m a bit rusty as I haven’t wrote anything in a long time so this may come off as rushed or repetitive, But nonetheless hope you guys like it ♡♡♡ (also sorry for coming back with another angst post lolllll) love ya bye! 🫶🏻

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x mc #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x yuu #twst x mc #twst x yuu #twst malleus #twst malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #twst lilia #twst lilia x reader #lilia vanrouge x reader

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meanbossart · 3 months

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Misc. Ask compilation

These aren't all of the asks I want to reply to, just some that I can answer relatively quickly to clean the ol' inbox out before things get out of hand. Thanks for your patience!

HAHAHA THANK YOU FOR PERUSING AROUND and for enjoying my work! I had a... Weird Gale experience my first playthrough which led to his characterization being what it is in my comics. Here's the beat-by-beat of all the shenanigans: https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/740827466716807168/alright-i-am-like-90-sure-there-is-one-line-in-a

And here's just some of my personal thoughts on him! https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/736193145686114305/can-you-tell-me-more-about-how-you-would-make-gale

I would be lying if I said I'm not conflicted to know my style still bears some remnants of my edgy teen roots (not your fault not noticing it though, you aren't the first and won't be the last) BUT... That comic did mean a lot to me as a youth, so I guess I should be proud 🤷 and honestly it is a little cool that such a thing would survive for so long in what I do, crazy how that works.

LMAO, re: the bottom/top debacle, I was honestly so surprised to see people react to it like it's something novel. If I ever expected to get any push back on the matter, I thought it would be from people assuming DU drow was the top and taking issue with how violent and big he is (and yknow, some people are weirdly protective of Astarion as if he isn't a sneaky murder machine rippling with lean muscle)

Very disheartening to see that mindset still so alive and well among young people, but I guess it just means I gotta draw DU drow throwing more back and Astarion drooling over more ass until the stereotype is forcefully banished out of people's minds!

(more asks below the cut)

"Sleeper agent activation phrase" absolutely took me out, Thank you so much LOL

YEAH I got it pretty late though, Astarion had already told my durge that he was a vampire of his own accord (and the response was, of course, "no duh") I forgot wheter this happened before or after the first romance scene triggered, but I think after.

Since this was after DU drow decided he was gonna fuck him out of pure contrarian spite and was shamelessly laying it extremely thick, He happilly let Astarion drink his blood. Hell, he was probably a little Too Eager - the guy likes pain and he likes letting people he trusts do with his body whatever they will, and while he didn't yet trust Astarion at that point, that event might've very well reminded him of something from his past that planted a seed which would eventually grow into his genuine affection for the guy.

Ah, he definitely got a half-chub as it happened too. I'm sure Astarion noticed it and just walked off rolling his eyes and thinking "eugh of course" lmao.

Hello!!!

Oh man, I grew up fascinated with horror things. I remember from a very young age just looking at the covers and backs of horror movies at the film-rental even though I wasn't allowed to watch them. I was also easily scared but I sought those things out anyway - I think i just enjoyed the visceral reactions it drew out of me and was always curious about most things taboo.

When I got access to the internet that just opened a (very unfortunate) door to all things vile and awful like it did for so many people at that age in time. Though my tastes have changed a lot since then (Less August Underground, more The Devils kind of guy nowadays) my stories and art are just always going to fall into a horror-y category because I just... Don't think there's many better ways to showcase the human experience and emotional range without many of the elements native to the genre, and I'm all about that.

Thank you for your question and your sweet words, have a good week yourself!

I did a little write-up about that over here! https://meanbossart.tumblr.com/post/742508493562593280/i-dont-have-a-particular-question-in-mind-sorry

That's the result of a scene that happens relatively early in the story I'm writing ("A Novel Experience" on Ao3).

{SPOILERS} DU drow accidentally passes out on a blade which puts a relatively deep gash on his hip. Meanwhile, Astarion is weakened and starved after certain events that transpired the prior night. They have a private exchange both in a somewhat hazy-state of mind and Astarion ends up prodding and prying at his wound while feeding, so it's a laceration and bite mark that just scarred over badly.

Elves apparently don't grow body hair so never LOL guess they'll just have to slip&slide up on each other for heat

#ask compilation

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mountsmase · 2 months

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Imagine a friend of masons walks in on you two having sex on holidays or something (let’s say Jayden cause I hate his guts) and you’re riding him sonfor the rest of the holiday he keeps making comments about how sexy you are and how he’s jealous of mase but overtime gets worse and keeps talking about your body like your boobs and how you were riding mason and he wishes it was him and you kind of expect mason to just laugh along or something or be secretly annoyed and say nothing cause he’s prone to letting his friends get away with anything but he’s raging and goes off on one because he doesn’t care what he’s friends do as long as it not talk a word about you and he can’t stand when someone disrespects you and you’re shocked but he reassures you and he second a friend opens their mouth about you they’re done for and that he’ll never stand by and watch you get clowned🫣🫣 protective mase gives me such Fanny flutters

I started this yesterday right before he scored and then got a little distracted 😅 sorry I didn’t answer it straight away 🫶🏻

lmao I forgot Jayden existed 🫣

I love protective Mase 🥺

Maybe you’ve always been a little insecure of your body but Mason is always so so amazing at making you feel beautiful, he truly believes that you’re the most gorgeous girl in the world and since being with him you’ve definitely grown to love your body and appreciate it so much more than you used to, but all of the little comments his so called ‘friend’ keeps making is getting to you more than you’d like to admit 🥺

You’d never tell Mason that it’s bothering you, not wanting him to worry too much and ruin his holiday but he notices all the little things and the changes in your behaviour, like the way you seem to cover up a little more when that person is around or the way your smile fades when they start making comments or jokes, so he knows something is up and he hates it.

For a while he wouldn’t say anything to them, absolutely fuming but also knowing that it will just be awkward for everyone if he does say something so he just makes a mental note to ask you how you’re feeling later and makes a point of complimenting you and loving on you loads, which he does everyday anyway but he makes a special point to do it even more, especially after they’ve made a comment he’d be showering you with love straight away, wanting to see your pretty little smile again after they made it disappear ☹️

But after a few days they’ve still not dropped it, bringing it up whenever they can and making completely unnecessary comments towards you and after a particularly horrible one he snaps, not able to just stand by and let it happen anymore because it’s killing him that they’re tearing you down and treating you like that, they’re his best friends but absolutely no one deserves to be spoken to/about like that, especially not you.

You’d be so surprised, not expecting him to say anything because he usually hates conflict but you can’t help but love the way he stands up for you. He obviously wouldn’t get violent or anything but he would still make it very very clear that it’s unacceptable behaviour and no one would fight him on it, seeing how serious he is and just apologising for everything, no one would dare say any more, not bringing it up for the rest of the trip and leaving you be which you’re definitely relieved about

And to your surprise it wouldn’t really be that awkward, the person coming to apologise to you before having a chat with Mase to clear the air a little and you’d spend the rest of the holiday glued to Mason’s side, so wrapped up in your little love bubble that you’re hardly even paying attention to anyone else around you

Him protecting you would be so sexy anyway you wouldn’t be able to keep your hands off of him

#mason concepts

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adambja · 6 months

Note

It's a quit a long post so in sorry for that and I'm not a native English speaker so please pardon my mistakes......

Hey girl , I have a question and it's not related to aff tapes but I want to ask you this question to know your opinion and hope you give me a solution and guide me on this ..... So

To be very honest i manifest so many things in my life ,

I even shift one time ,

Enter in void state also by doing psych k method i think after 2 and half day ,

Even get results by practising living in the present moment ,

Even I get results from your free tapes.

I'm telling you to know I get results and not telling lie and things that i manifest , good friends to good grades to pass in exams or even allow to sit in exams even after not going clg entire year 😅 and for all this I have all my desires so smoothly even just my laptop have internet when whole hostel don't have and so many more fun things and all......

As for live in the present moment - In my check up I diagnosed diabetic but through live in the present moment I heal myself and when I do next day check up I'm completely healthy...

As for your tape come on girl ... There are so many , don't know where to start 🤣🤣🤣 ....anyways so many things

But my main problem is whenever I tell , share my success stories to anyone it stops happening 😭😭😭 I don't believe in it before but i shift and I tell a friend about it till now I don't shift , it's like 2 yrs now ....

Tell my void success story even just as an anon but still after that I didn't enter in void ....

After telling your aff tape success story I start having more doubts or even sometimes I can't even listen to your tape because people district me or start talking to me and want me to answer them but i prefer to listen to it calmly and be alone , all the symptoms i feel suddenly gone .....

After sharing my present moment success story I don't see any results till now .... Not even with the psych method....

At first i just thought that I don't do it properly or maybe I tell my success story to someone who is a negative person and can't understand all of this law and all so it's effect my process because I'm not perfect in it ( it's a wrong and limiting belief ) ...So i decided if i want to tell someone my success story or tell someone my journey I'll just tell it to people who is like me ... So in the community..... But even after telling people like me ( who believe in loa , manifestation and all ) I still get stuck ..... And I tell my success stories to people who help me and to help others but what now ...... Today i suddenly see all things .......

So what should I do to overcome ...😭😭😭

Thank you for taking your time to read ..... I'm sorry again...

I saw some people on here and twitter having the same issue lmao 😭😭

It's just you are making yourself stuck due to your self-concept you keep putting yourself in a maze and confusion due to your self-concept and it's not about my tape at all BUT I AM GLAD MY TAPES MADE YOU COME HERE AND ASK FOR A SOLUTION 😭!!! BECAUSE YOU KNOW NOW THERE IS A WEIRD THING HAPPENING AND THIS IS one of the benefits in the tape your subconscious mind literally lets you know what is the issue and the assumptions you have to change that's why some people experienced some negativity while listening to the tapes NOT EVERYONE THEY ARE LITERALLY 3 PEOPLE GUYS!!

Anyways let's get deeper into this!

So look you got that belief from someone as if it's like if you say your goals or your success stories they can be jinxed and whatever this is

THE FEELING YOU ARE DEALING WITH HERE IS "FEAR" YOU ARE JUST SCARED OF IT and it's okay your feelings are valid but jinxing isn't even real because nobody is real 😭😭 because THE REALITY ITSELF ISN'T REAL SO YOU ARE LITERALLY SAFE

How to solve this?

Affirm

"I am safe"

"I am comfortable"

"I am safe saying my success stories to everyone"

"I am comfortable saying my success stories to everyone"

Also congrats on your success stories with my tapes hehehe 🤭🫶🏻 I know you will have more after this

#law of assumption #loassumption #loa #neville goddard #self concept #loa success #success stories loa #self development #self esteem #void success #non dualism #non duality #nonduality #nondualism

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peterparkersnose · 1 year

Text

Apologies

pairing: Sebastian Sallows x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: takes place sixth year, teasing, comments about the readers appearance, slight swearing from sebastian, nothing too bad here

a/n hi let’s not bully this fanfic to the point of deletion like the last one :) We do not support JK Rowling here and her views. Hate will be blocked and deleted. Also, don’t ask why Y/N has lipstick on her chin. Sebastian is probably sloppy anyways. Love the mc gifs, even though mine was brunette 😒. Anyways, MC isn’t any specific house in this story so feel free to choose your own!

side note: this is the first fic i edited with grammarly. no clue why i haven’t before, i use it on all my school papers. enjoy the somewhat grammatically correct fic! probably first one ever lmao

summary A joke Sebastian makes goes a little too far

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read time: 10 mins 31 seconds

“And don’t you just look wonderful today, Y/N!” Poppy cheered, joining your side as you walked down the Hogwarts halls. You smiled, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“Thank you, Poppy! You look splendid as well,” you smiled, returning the compliment to your Hufflepuff friend. Poppy hastily ran in front of you and opened the door to Charms class. Your eyes quickly scanned the classroom, not looking for anything in particular. When they landed on him, your heart seemed to skip a beat like it always did.

Sebastian was already there; he and Ominis were arguing sitting at the table adjacent to yours and Poppy’s. Your eyes immediately snapped to the boy, but only briefly.

Sebastian was dressed down today, which suddenly made your appearance feel out of place. His white button-down with rolled-up sleeves and a loose Slytherin tie looked so simple in comparison to your new look. You yearned to take a second glance, but you were sure it would have been too obvious that you were looking at him.

As you took your seat and spoke to Poppy, you occasionally let your gaze drift beyond hers and to the boy— his hair was messy. Had he even combed it this morning? You could just visualize him ruffling it for just a brief moment, looking in the mirror, and thinking ‘Good enough’. He would be shrugging his shoulders and following Ominis out the door as he yelled at Sebastian for making him late.

The way his shoulders were spread as he lay his head in his arms placed on the table was almost enchanting to look at. Was he speaking to Ominis or the girl at the next table? Your heart began to race, as you didn’t want to know the answer to that question. His head bowed once more before he sat upright. Yawning, he stretched his arms behind him and his gaze suddenly met yours. As you snapped your gaze back to Poppy, you heard him let out a tired groan. Oh, he knew what he was doing.

“Y/N?” Poppy asked as you re gained your focus back on the conversation you were having. “Yes!” you answered, a little too loudly and confidently.

“What is it?” Poppy inquired, turning her head to see exactly what you were looking at.

“Poppy! Not now,” you whispered and looked down at your shoes. “He’s smirking, you know. Playing with the end of his tie like an idiot.”

“You were saying?” you asked, changing the subject back to the original topic. “Sorry,” Poppy sighed. You gave her a comforting smile. “What color is that? On your lips,” she asked. You took the tiny tube of lipstick out from your robes, opened the cap, and showed Poppy. “Imelda let me use her dark cherry balm she got from Hogsmeade. She said it suits my complexion well but… I’m still not quite sure.”

You had spent all night practicing with Imelda. In previous days you had expressed your interest in makeup after noticing Imelda’s long eyelashes and flushed cheeks. She taught you the right way to apply makeup and how to make it look simple. The first time you applied your own she described it as ‘horrendous’. So, after staying up hours after curfew, you finally mastered the look you were going for. Imelda reviewed it and let you finally out of the dormitory after making sure you weren’t going to class looking like a fool.

“You're going to have to teach me sometime! It looks absolutely stunning. I’m not sure how you don’t have every prefect swooning over you right now.” Poppy said, gazing over your makeup look. “I would love to teach you sometime Poppy, what about—”

As you were about to finish your sentence, you heard the stool next to Poppy scrape against the floor. Before you knew it, the brown-haired boy leaped from the student section and onto the floor. He then approached your table, simply placing his hands firmly near the edges of your textbook, and looked down at you.

“What was I hearing about prefects?” he asked, squinting and studying your face. If the blush wasn’t enough, you were sure you were bright red.

“Are you interested in becoming one next year?” he asked. You shrugged, trying to ignore his addicting gaze. Poppy smiled and happily answered the question for you “I was just saying how I was surprised that—”

“Poppy!” you proclaimed, hitting her boot with the tip of yours. All in good fun, Poppy was one to exploit your confided crush on Sebastian any day.

“I have no interest in becoming a prefect, Sebastian.” you sighed, finally giving in and looking up at him. He took a step back, still squinting.

“Are you interested in becoming a clown then? With this new look, you’ll make a perfect carnie.”

Sebastian was expecting an eye roll and some slight beratement from you for that comment, but instead, he was met with a wide eyed-lips partially parted look from you. For the first time ever he considered that he may have crossed the line with you.

You were unsure of what to say.

“Sebastian!” Ominis called from their table. “Leave her alone. You have better things to do with your time than berating our friend.”

Poppy gave your arm a reassuring pat as Sebastian awkwardly made his way back to his seat. “He didn’t mean it. He’s just a stupid boy, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” she whispered to you just as Professor Ronan began his descent down the stairs from his office.

The pit in your stomach grew as the thought of Sebastian Sallows calling your work that you worked so hard on a ‘carnie’ ran through your head.

“You're being oddly still,” Ominis whispered to Sebastian. He didn’t answer, Sebastian just stared blankly at the rug pattern Professor Roman was walking upon. Ominis poked Sebastian with his wand.

“I’m fine.” he gritted between his teeth. In reality, he was replaying the encounter he had with you just minutes before. Oh, how he wishes he could just suck those words back in. He always seems to mess something up.

“What exactly did you say to Y/N?” Ominis asked. Sebastian let out a sigh. “Nothing-”

“You're a terrible liar.”

“You're a terrible see-er,”

“Your comeback was weak.” Ominis sighed. “Just like your game,” he added.

“My what?”

The room was suddenly quiet and all eyes were on Sebastian. He had said that way too loudly.

“Is everything-” Professor Ronan began to ask Sebastian, but was interrupted.

Garreth Weasley had just made his way into the classroom. The large doors boomed as they shut behind him.

Garreth was a flirt. He would always try to make moves at you that you kindly rejected, but now it was more fun than serious.

He looked your way with a smooth look on his face, but his emotions quickly dropped. “Merlin’s beard Y/N! What did you do, make out with Peeves? He seems to have gotten some of those crazy colors on you!”

“Garreth!” Poppy shouted, doing her best to defend her friend.

That was enough of this makeup business.

You slammed your stool in as you left the Charms classroom almost in tears. Making your way towards the nearest bathroom, you looked in the mirror and looked at the running mascara down your cheeks.

Back in the classroom, there was a stir. Sebastian rose from his seat and met Garreth where he was standing. He took out his wand in one hand, and in the other he grabbed Garreth’s collar, jolting the boy slightly.

“Do that again, and you’ll wish you didn’t.”

Garreth stared at Sebastian with confused fear in his eyes. Sebastian’s grip on his collar tightened as his wand was pointed at Garreth’s neck. Usually, Sebastian was one to go along with his antics; why such the change now?

“Mr. Weasley and Mr. Sallows!” Professor Ronan yelled, causing Sebastian to drop his hold on Garreth. “This behavior is unacceptable! I will be having a word with your Aunt, Mr. Weasley.”

Garreth groaned.

“And for you, Mr. Sallows— return to your common room. We will discuss this matter later,” Professor Ronan said, shoving the two boys even farther apart with his hands.

An excuse to miss class? Sebastian would have done this ages ago if he knew it would have had this result. You didn’t have to ask him twice.

As Sebastian turned the corner and was about to descend down the stairs, he noticed your books piled outside the bathroom. He hesitated to at first, but he pressed his ear against the door. Tiny sniffles came from inside. His hand wrapped around the doorknob, but to no avail. It was locked.

“Alohamora,” he whispered.

Your ears perked as you heard the lock on the restroom click. Quickly, you tried to collect yourself and be as silent as you could to allow the other girl to use the restroom. Or maybe it was Poppy coming to check in on you. Either way, you wanted to be alone. You stared down at the towel in your hand, smeared with the work you were so proud of just minutes before.

And then suddenly, you heard a voice. One you never expected to hear in a woman’s restroom.

“Y/N?” Sebastian asked.

What was he doing in here?

His shoes suddenly came into view as he walked in front of your stall.

“Go away, Sebastian.”

He sighed. “I can’t just do that,”

You sat silently, hoping that if you tried hard enough you could apparate somewhere else.

“Are you decent?” Sebastian asked. “Huh?” you replied, confused. Another swift “Alohamora” came from Sebastian. You rose from the toilet and slammed your arm against the door, using your whole body weight to keep him out. But to no avail, Sebastian was taller and stronger than you.

He was taken aback as you came into view. His heart simply broke at the vision in front of him.

“No,” he whispered almost in shock as he entered the stall with you. The guilt began to rise as he knew he was partially responsible for this.

“Sebastian please,” you begged, turning away. It was embarrassing enough that he had to see you like that; make-up smeared on your face that was left over and tear-stained cheeks weren’t the ideal look.

He took your hand carefully. Only entwining a few fingers at first before you allowed his hand into yours, against your better judgment. He walked out of the stall with you and stood in front of a sink.

“Sit,” he ordered. You stared at him in confusion. “Go on, don’t make me lift you.”

You leaped on the countertop and shuttered a bit as your skirt lifted and your bum hit the cool surface. Sweeping your skirt down nicely, you watched as Sebastian fetched a clean towel and began to wet it.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he ran out the damp towel. Sebastian didn’t answer, instead placing one hand on your jawline to steady your face. You almost slapped his hand out of place until the warm cloth reached your cheek.

“Try not to squirm, love.”

He moved so gently as the cloth ran over your cheeks. Sebastian hated seeing the mascara stains and was happy to see them washed away.

You couldn’t help it—more tears began to form in your lash line.

“No, no,” Sebastian said to reassure you. His hand left your jaw and moved to your hand in your lap. His fingers entwined with yours.

The cloth began to grow cold. Sebastian was almost done wiping your face, his gaze not leaving you once. As he made his final round around, making sure he got everything, his thumb brushed your lips by accident. The feeling of your soft lips was enough to send him wild.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit that when he saw you enter the classroom that he didn’t want that dark, honey-duke color all over his lips.

He sighed as he set the dirty towel next to the one you had used previously in the sink.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely.

“Sebastian—”

“Please, Y/N. I feel terrible.”

You looked down, his hand was still in yours. With his other hand, he brought his hand up to your chin and tilted it back into his line of sight.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“I…” you tried to answer. He seemed to be getting closer and closer with each breath.

“Do you want me to…” Sebastian speculated, his face nearing the side of your head. You could feel his breath on your ear.

“…fuck up Garreth?”

A slight gasp came from you as his hand moved from yours to your waist.

“Mm, Sebastian no.” you whimpered.

“Or… let me make it up to you.”

“P-please,” you sighed, nervous to move another inch. “What can I do?” he asked.

A sly smile came to your face.

“I do have one thing in mind.”

Your hand pushed him back from his close stance to you. Feeling his chest for the first time was quite a different experience. You didn’t expect to feel the warmth coming off his body through his thin shirt.

Hopping off the counter, Sebastian was now noticeably taller than you once again. Your hand dipped in your robes and pulled out Imelda’s lip balm.

“And?” he asked, getting impatient as he watched you take off the cap and place it on the counter. Sebastian tapped his finger on the counter. Taking one last glance at his ruffled hair and tattered stance, you turn to the mirror and applied a thick layer of the dark, thin balm on your lips.

“I want you to wear it.”

He let out a laugh. “It’s that simple? Give it to me. It’s not that bad anyways-”

Sebastian reached for the tube of lipstick. You quickly snatched it in your hands and snapped it away.

“W-what was that for? Y/N, come on now. Your confusing me. What do you want?”

You smirked, cocking your hips against the counter. “I said Sebastian, I want you to wear it.”

His jaw hinged as he began to get frustrated. All he was doing was trying to help you, and you were now playing games. Sebastian was done being toyed with. Bending down to become eye level with you once again, he spoke. His nose nearly touched the bridge of yours.

“And how would I do that? You obliviated the thing in to-”

You pushed up with your toes as you took the leap and kissed Sebastian. His eyes shot wide open as you kept yours shut. As he realized what was finally happening, his hands quickly moved to the back of your neck and into your hair. As he began to straighten his back, you began to lose him as he was too tall.

“Oh fuck…” he muttered, grabbing you and vaulting you into his arms and quickly sitting you up on the counter as he had previously threatened. With a very few seconds of breathing, his lips were back on yours and was eager as ever. His hands steadied at your waist as you let out a groan as he pushed down. He stood in between your legs, towering down over you.

As the kiss finally dissolved, his hands cupped your cheeks and looked down at you endearingly. A wide smile came to your face that matched his. You chuckled.

“What is it?” he teased, thinking you were being playful. “Your teeth, Sebastian.”

He looked up in the mirror and gave it a stupid grin. He had the dark lipstick all over his teeth. “Bloody hell, this stuff doesn’t taste good,” he whined as he used his finger to wipe off the excess lipstick. “It’s not meant to eat,”

“I can tell.”

Just as the banter was ending, the lock on the women’s restroom began to jiggle.

Sebastian gave you a worried look as the lock hooked open. In mere seconds, he gave you his infamous smirk and snapped his fingers. He was gone. Apparated out. Confused but not surprised that he knew how to do that, you let the inevitable happen and the door swings open.

“Y/N!” Poppy announced, rushing to find you sitting on the counter. “Are you alright?” she asked confused. To be fair, you were sitting on the bathroom counter with your legs spread a little too far for comfort, lipstick smeared all over your lips and partially your chin (don’t ask) and your hair was disheveled.

“Never better, Popps.”

You followed Poppy out of the bathroom and down the hallway. “You can’t go into class looking like that!”

You shrugged and tugged down your skirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up in my room.”

You followed Poppy once again. After moments of walking silently, she stopped.

“Are you alright?” you asked her.

Poppy had a tooth-baring grin on her face. “He was in there, wasn’t he!” she accused, excitement rising in her demeanor.

Your eyebrows rose as you sighed. She had finally come to the realization. Poppy was a smart girl, but you didn’t think she was that smart. You didn’t mind anyways, she was going to get all the details once you reached her quarters.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you dauntingly said, as you made your way further down the hall.

“I know the look of love when I see it.” Poppy said, catching up with you.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

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