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lesbian-for-arthur-morgan · 1 year ago

Note

Request : first time holding hands

I’d love to see their reactions 😭

First Time Holding Hands

Short Headcanons || Gender Neutral Language!

Genre: Fluff Featuring: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean MacGuire, and Sadie Adler Warnings: None

AN: A shorter post today! Thank you so much for requesting these were so fun to write I literally love doing cute little moments with these characters ~ I hope I answered the way you meant !! lol I feel like I got a little off track in some ---> Requests are open! Check out guidelines if you have any questions :)

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Arthur Morgan:

This man is a nervous wreck around you. Especially when you first start showing feelings for each other.

It took a million years for him to even admit that he was a little sweet on you, he is definitely not initiating anything past that point.

He can barely believe that you like him back.

The first time you grab his hand is not during anything special.

You’re sitting in the front of a wagon with him while on the way into town. The sun is casting a golden sheen across the earth, the air is warm but not hot, and the birds are swooping and playing in the sky overhead.

Without much thought you reach down to where he’s resting his arm on his thigh and envelope his hand with your own.

He tenses up at the contact, scared to make any sudden moves in case he might scare you away.

He doesn’t look at you directly, instead just glancing at you from the side of his eye. He wonders if you meant to do that or if you just did it by accident.

How your hand would end up on his on his thigh he doesn’t know.

When your thumb starts stroking the skin around his knuckle, tough and calloused from a few too many brawls, he starts to melt and relax a little bit.

He flips his hand around, which makes you pull away slightly, and fits his fingers in between yours. That way he’s holding your hand back and it’s a mutual.

There’s a blush on his cheeks and a grin on his lips. Not a word is spoken, but Arthur relishes the comfortable silence as he tries to think of what on earth he could have done to deserve something so perfect - to deserve you.

John Marston:

John is not a touchy-feely kind of guy. Not at first anyways. He doesn’t get what you see in him. He doesn’t understand why of all the men in the world - Hell, all the men in camp - you chose to waste your time with him.

He’s angsty like that.

He knows of your feelings for him and he gave a strong inclination that he might like you back but never confessed anything really. He figured you understood him enough to know.

You did, but he’s hard to read sometimes.

The first time you hold hands, he actually initiates it. You try not to overstep any boundaries with him, so he always has to make the first moves.

While playing a few practice rounds of poker (John is trying to teach you to play/play better), jokes are being thrown back and forth and rocks are being used as chips for show.

When John’s focus is pulled to the cards in his hands, you take the opportunity to try and grab a few rocks from his pile to add to your own as a little joke.

John catches you and places his large hand on top of your own making you freeze. A smug grin is plastered on his face and he doesn’t even look at you before placing his cards down, showing off a winning hand.

“Read ‘em and weep, Darlin’,” He laughs but never removes his hand from yours.

A small blush rises to your cheeks and his gaze falls to your combined hands. He curls his fingers under your own so that he’s fully holding your hand in his.

You try to catch his eye, but he’s so focused on his large, scarred hand covering your softer skin. It eats at him a little; a guilty feeling settles into his chest.

You place your other hand on his cheek and press on it lightly to direct his head to look at you. You smile one of your so-sweet smiles that makes his stomach ache a little with admiration, and he grins.

The two of you sit there for a while and continue trying to play poker each with one hand.

Dutch Van Der Linde:

Dutch has always been really hands-on with you. (Wink Wink)

He’s flamboyant, a show-off, cocky, and passionate. He loves to show you off and show off to everyone that you are his.

The first time he holds your hand, it’s to explicitly show that you are his and he is yours.

Most times after that, when Dutch holds your hand it means that the two of you are connected, not two people but one. Not just a couple but a unit.

He’s dramatic that way.

The very first time he holds your hand is during an argument with Hosea. A few things about camp affairs come up, plans are being thrown around, and Hosea makes a comment suggesting that you don’t need to be there for their conversation.

Dutch glares at the older man and reaches down to grasp your hand in his.

“But Daddy I love him!” Vibes I’m not going to lie.

He stands a little taller now that he’s touching you, it makes him feel stronger and more sure of what he’s saying. He puffs out his chest and looks down his nose at Hosea.

Hosea rolls his eyes a little and puts his hands up in surrender, telling Dutch that he can do what he wants.

When Hosea leaves, Dutch uses your entwined hands to pull you towards his side a little bit and hold you in an embrace.

He calls you his partner in crime, his other half, and a million other sultry things he can think of that causes a heat to rise in your chest.

He doesn’t let you go for the rest of the night after that, choosing to show off to the rest of the gang members that you two belong together and will always be.

Javier Escuella:

Javier values romance in a relationship.

Maybe nothing incredibly grand - but sweet notes, acts of service, small gifts here and there - he likes to show you how much he loves you through actions more than anything else.

All that and more is shown later on in your relationship. At first, though, Javier is more protective than romantic when it comes to you. It keeps him from showing his emotions at times, and makes him oblivious to your feelings other times.

He just doesn’t know what’s too much because he feels a lot of things, but he wonders if showing all that too soon will scare you away. His feelings are so intense that he gets scared away from you sometimes.

The first time he holds your hand is when you knick yourself while trying to do tricks with one of his knives.

You envy the way he’s able to just do the flips and graceful switches with the blades, and even how he can effortlessly play that five-finger-fillet game.

So, naturally, you try to replicate a trick you’ve seen him do a million times and it ends with a little gash on the heel of your palm.

It’s barely bleeding and looks more like a scrape, but as you hiss in pain Javier has forgotten his chore as he rushes to see what you’ve done to yourself.

He tsks at you and gently wraps his fingers around your wrist to get a better look at the wound.

You’ve forgotten the scrape at this point as his touch is sending jolts of adrenaline through your arm and his face is so close to yours you could count his eyelashes if you wanted to.

He doesn’t notice, too busy looking to see if you’ve mortally wounded yourself. When he’s satisfied that you won’t die, he looks up at your face (Which is dark with a blush and you’re trying to avert your gaze from him, but you just can’t).

He doesn’t understand what’s gotten into you until he sees your joined hands and a knowing grin cracks into his face.

“I’ll kiss it, make it better,” He murmurs and presses a slow, tender kiss to the palm of your hand while gazing up into your eyes the entire time.

He knows what he’s doing.

Charles Smith:

I genuinely feel like Charles is the most well rounded of the group when it comes to his emotions and how he conveys what he’s feeling to you.

Communication king for sure.

The first time Charles holds your hand it’s like he’s always done it.

It’s so natural to him that there really is no concrete first time that changed the meaning of your relationship or created some big deal.

Charles isn’t really someone who likes to show off and isn’t into public displays of affection. Brief hugs and hand holding are the only things he can bring himself to do with you if there are other people present.

He likes to hold your hand a lot despite that. Kissing, groping, or anything even a little heated is a big no for him (in private it is another story), so he likes to have your hands intertwined more often than not.

At first he would come up to you and hold his hand out, palm up, with a quirked brow as if asking you to place your hand in his. You oblige, of course, and he would follow you around camp or vice versa.

Now, Charles doesn’t even bother asking before he comes up to you and just grabs your hand whenever he sees you.

There’s no question about it, the two of you are always connected.

If he can see you he is by your side holding on to you.

It’s not possessive (unlike Dutch cough cough), but it’s more for his own comfort. He likes being near you and he likes that you seem to enjoy being near him.

Charles finds his twin flame in you, his other half. Much more than a soulmate, but his person.

Sean MacGuire:

Sean never really knows where the two of you stand in terms of a relationship.

He flirts with you over and over and over again. You laugh and blush occasionally, but end up telling him to shut up and wandering off.

He knows that he can come off as a sarcastic ass, but he didn’t realize that it’s so intense that you can’t even tell that he’s genuinely trying to get you to notice him as more than a friend/fellow gang member.

The thing is, it is hard for you to tell. Sean isn’t known for being the most serious guy in the world and you’ll be damned if you let him make fun of you by flirting with you and making you swoon or something.

The first time you hold hands with Sean is also consequently the first time you see Sean’s feelings for you are genuine, not some trick.

You turn away from Sean after he’s thrown yet another flirty remark at you, but before you even have the chance to mutter “Shut up, MacGuire” He’s shot out and wrapped his fingers around your own in a strong grip. It doesn’t hurt, but you can’t just pull away and tell him to stop messing around.

You turn back and look down at your conjoined hands.

“Please,” He begs and pulls you an inch closer. “Listen to me.”

You can hardly focus on anything but the warmth of his hand in yours and the way it makes your heart swell and tingle.

He explains his feelings for you, every last one of them. Some were a little more explicit and detailed than you expected, but you appreciated the straight forward honesty.

Let’s just say after that conversation the two of you hold hands and more pretty often in the future.

Sadie Adler:

Sadie and you hold hands all the time. She literally cannot tell how you feel about her.

Is this a friendship? Is it more? She has no idea because you’re so comfortable with her that the line between friends and partners is so blurred Sadie isn’t even sure if there was a line to begin with.

One night, you and Sadie are lying outside the tent that you share stargazing. Sadie is telling you what she knows about the stars and you chime in every now and then with your own little details. She loves the excitement in your voice when you remember the story to a constellation or find one that you hadn’t notice last time.

Your bodies are close, but your hands are closer. Lying in the grass, Sadie can feel the heat from your fingers and hers twitch and beg to touch yours.

She’s nervous, though, to take the relationship further. She doesn’t know if she’s ready to admit what she wants.

While she’s debating if it’s worth it, your pinky finger stretches and curls around her own. She audibly gasps at the action and her head whips over to see if you realize what you’re doing.

You’re already gazing at her with soft eyes and a small smile. It makes her bones turn to jelly at the sight and she tries to speak, but the only thing that escapes her mouth are sharp exhales as her words get tangled in her throat.

She tightens her pinky finger around yours, and you understand the meaning behind it.

It was all still confusing, but Sadie knew one thing: Friends don’t look at each other like that.

<><><><>

I love Sadie so much y'all don't even know

Hope you enjoyed!!

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lydscare · 2 years ago

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Hi! Could you make a preferences/hc of the pro/hoo characters how they cuddle and/or sleep with there s/o?

cuddling hcs with pjo/hoo characters

a/n: these kinda went into general pda hcs, but hopefully it's still good tho

warnings: possible hints of angst + trama, cause who dosen't have it :')

reader tends to be gender-neutral // my masterlist

annabeth

i feel like when cuddling w/ annabeth that there's not really a big spoon or little spoon posistion

it's mainly just your arms wrapped around each other, just a tangle of arms and limbs

dosen't really hug you too much in public but always needs a goodbye hug from you before you go somewhere

she also likes acting out as your pillow with you head on her chest/lap (she probably reads you a book too :))

bianca

her hugs are really comforting and warm

she always knows when you need one

she can just tell

she's memorized your body language to a t

might whisper some comforting words here and there

could make any surface feel soft when her arms are wrapped around you

calypso

i think she likes to be held more than to hold someone

she can hold you tho, and she's great at comforting you

likes to hum or sing you little songs and melodies

she likes when you play with her braid too

overall good experience

clarisse

i feel like she gives good bear hugs

she has some meatystrong arms so her hugs are kinda firm, like she's reminding you that she's there and no one can hurt you

her hugs are also surprisingly warm so they're extra comforting

connor

connor's hugs are a little more firm then travis's but still all the more comforting

he likes taking his time with hugging and cuddling

he likes spinning you around too when he gets excited

travis

travis hugs are very playful and warm

likes to come up from behind and give you a surprise hug

also moves around a bit when cuddling but it's fine, he just wants to get in a comfy position :))

also loves spinning you around

ethan

i kinda feel like he's a side hugger

so not too big on cuddling

he's not exactly avoidant of pda but he's not looking for it

might put his arm around you every once in a while

when cuddling he likes to be the big spoon, he finally feels like he can be of use and protect you from the cruel world :')

frank

gives the best bear hugs (both literally and metamorphically)

at first he's pretty awkward w/ hugging but grows to love it

he can shapeshift into just about any animal to have a different cuddling arrangement

one day you're being snuggled by a dragon, who's wrapped protectively around you, and the next you're holding a cute lil labrador puppy in your hands

needless to say it's an overall wholesome expierence :)

grover

the first time you hugged him, poor goat bby didn't know what to do

like where is he supposed to put his hands??

but after a while gets used to them

not to big of a hugger but enjoys it

has to get over the awkwardness of it at first tho

but afterwards enjoys it

just never sneak up on him

hazel

i don't know how else to describe her hugs other than sweet

her hugs are super comforting and grounding

just sneak up on her and give her a surprise back hug

she lets out the cutest giggle whenever you do it :')

even though she probably heard you coming

always wants to make sure you're comforting when cuddling, she dosen't want to overstep any boundaries of yours so

jason

not exactly looking for cuddles or pda in general, but he's not going to hate affections either

he'll most likely be wanting cudddles after a long day of praetor duties, helping at chb, or school

he won't want anything else, just to be held by you for a few good long minutes

with that being said however, he is more of a big spoon type of guy

leo

he's like a human furnace

always super hot warm

very comforting and cozy

he loves snuggling

in general he's a very touchy person so a arm's usually always around you

loves holding you

after a long day of working on little trinkets and fixing up things he likes to be held by you (arms around your waist, face on your shoulder)

play w/ his hair pleaseee it's very soothing

luke

sturdy?

he has some pretty strong arms so his hugs are a bit firmer than he'd honestly prefer

likes to put his hands around your waist with your hands placed over his

also he likes when you just play with his fingers or stroke his arms lovingly

((also has a really good grip

nico

he isn't much of a hugger, to other people anyways

but with you, he practically craves your touch

it always has to be in a closed off space tho

he's not the biggest fan of pda, but alone with you,,

he practically clings onto you like a lil koala bear

loves wrapping his arms around your waist and burrying his face in your neck

he just needs someone to touch every once in a while to keep him grounded :')

side note: he is pretty cold, like ALL the time so ye

percy

percy the pillow jkjk

fr tho, he likes just placing his head on your chest as his arms around your waist when cuddling

also is a fan of getting his hair played with

he goes back n forth between lil spoon and big spoon

he also just finds your presence itself very comforting

and your smell

goes to sleep with the biggest grin on his face

piper

another hummer

she likes it when you braid her hair

she also like brushing her nails through your hair and scratching at your scalp

she likes holding you more than being held

can be very comforting

a quick hug from her also brings a great feeling

rachel

appreciates signs of pda in general

enjoys holding you and playing w/ your hair

can just walk up to you, give you a hug and walk away randomly

she is moreover a quality time person sooo

reyna

not really a hugger tbh

she has lots of walls built up sooo

she's also not much of a physical person

but she might be good with a hug or two after a long day

if she were to cuddle she'd be pretty stiff at first and need to ease her way into it

thalia

likes wrapping her arms around your neck and just looking at you with so much adoration in her eyes

she really likes being held from behind when sharing a bed

also likes to play with your fingers

will

his hugs are so warm and comforting (obvs)

i feel like he'd be the type to just be gossiping w/ you while you two are tangled together, he's playing with your fingers and all but still has your undivided attention

probably majority of the time os the big spoon but would like being the little spoon on especially hard and stressful days

zoë

as much as i looove zoë, i don't think she is much of a hugger :'(

she's very stiff at first bc she isn't really used to soft touches or touching in general

but then eventually relaxes and will end up not wanting you to leave her

she likes when you play with her hair

she can give good back rubs

she proably will end up being the little spoon on most days tho

also gets tired and ends up wanting cuddles

it helps give her a space of calmness after a long day out hunting

it's soothing

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biolumien · 6 months ago

Note

Saw some of your Hoshina Fics and it was stellar! Absolutely fucking amazing. You don’t know how damn happy I am to see Kaiju No.8 on my page. Your writing is phenomenal.

With that in mind, would it be possible to get another Hoshina request in? Preferably a Hurt/Comfort scenario. Maybe they’d have argued or something and they’re forced to actually confront each other’s insecurities. Because we like flawed adults going through their issues ✨together✨

If you’d like a more solidified vibe, try listening to Unsweetened Lemonade by Amélie Farren. It might give you some ideas!

I hope you have a wonderful day ahead of you!! :DD

notes: thank you so much for ur kind words ;-;; wahh... i love angst,... and functional relationships.... which is why i always write relationships on the verge of collapse... also thank you for the song rec!

hemming and hawing

soshiro hoshina x gn!reader theres a bit of drinking, but nothing extreme. word count: 1834

hoshina isn’t really good at communicating. for being the vice captain of a squadron of elite soldiers, where communication was often the difference between life and death–he’s really fucking bad at communication–or at least, the kind that requires you to be personal with other people.

he’s been ignoring you for days.

you’re not even sure why, at this point. you’d thought whatever relationship you were kindling was going fine, right? you weren’t exactly sure where the two of you stood, but you liked each other plenty, right? right?

right?

so why was hoshina ignoring you? why did he sit so far away, make constant excuses to get up and leave? what the fuck was wrong with him? every time you’d grabbed him to talk–oftentimes having to physically hold him by the arm, because he’d often keep trying to walk away from you–he’d respond with one-word answers, not quite looking at you. you’d sit at your desk, so restless that your leg would bang against the underside of the table just wondering what the fuck was wrong with him.

were his feelings a fluke?

hell, were yours?

what the fuck had you done wrong?

had you done something wrong? had you overstepped a boundary somewhere? but then again, how could you have? how could you have overstepped a boundary if he never made clear what his boundaries were? were you insane? what the fuck were you doing? or maybe the better question to ask is was soshiro hoshina worth this amount of hemming and hawing? was it worth it to lose your mind over his stupid face, when you saw him laugh at something okonogi said, or exchange quips with ashiro? was it worth it, when you knew he used to make the same faces towards you, used to look at you with something like measured affection behind his eyes–

you slam your head so hard against your desk that you can feel it starting to bruise.

no. no matter what, you were losing your mind over soshiro hoshina, damn him! damn him!

it keeps going on like this for a couple days–you try to talk to hoshina, he shrugs you off faster than any competent sentence you could possibly string together can form, and he leaves. the rest of the third division seems to notice, too–you’ve noticed twice in a row okonogi giving you a worried look. it wasn’t a hidden secret or anything that you and hoshina got along quite well, so if even okonogi was giving you a weird look…

you’d shrug, simply, give her a smile, and ignore the raging tire fire burning under your skin.

the next time you get a moment with hoshina is during a celebration party following a successful mission. you pour yourself a healthy glass of the strongest alcohol you can manage, and chug down the entire thing in one gulp, wiping your mouth inelegantly with your sleeve. and then out of the corner of your eye–

hoshina’s watching you with a half-interested look–a look more interested and engaged with you than any other time in the past few weeks–and you think the sight of that makes you angrier–so unbelievably angry, paired with new fire from alcohol underneath.

you turn to grab hoshina by the collar, glaring up at him–

“hey, now,” hoshina says with a light laugh. “had a little too much to drink, darling?”

darling.

oh, this fucking jackass–you think you almost see red, your teeth grinding together, and you can almost feel your lips peeling back in the facsimile of a snarl.

“you don’t get to call me that,” you whisper, voice shaking with anger, “not after you’ve fucking blown me off for weeks, soshiro.”

hoshina’s crimson eyes open a little more, staring down at you, right where your hand tightens against his shirt. you’re lucky that the hubbub of the party is keeping everyone from staring at you, which you’re furtively grateful for. you think, that maybe you see hurt reflected in his eyes, but that’s fucking ridiculous. why does he deserve to hurt? he’s the one who fucking blew you off, who didn’t talk to you for weeks despite the two of you clearly reciprocating feelings. what did he have to hurt over?

“i’m sorry,” hoshina mutters, and he leans forward–

“don’t fucking TOUCH me!”

your voice is louder than you’d like, and that gets a couple eyes on you.

your face feels red, and you drop hoshina’s shirt. hoshina’s eyes are still watching you, his gaze unreadable for a moment before he turns to the eyes watching you, a warm smile–a clear facade, loud and clear to you, but imperceptible to most others. you know hoshina, now–you’d watched him, studied him with intensity. he couldn’t hide from you, even if he wanted to. which made the fact he’d spent weeks ignoring you more infuriating–which made this current facade, a pretending thing–so much more infuriating.

“sorry, everyone,” hoshina says. “seems like our lovely engineer here might’ve had a little too much to drink. come on, i’ll walk you back.” he looks back down at you.

his eyes have that same strange hurt still reflected in his eyes.

something about it tears your heart across unevenly.

“okay,” you say stupidly, and you let hoshina handle your body, swing your arm over his shoulder as he pulls you up.

the walk back sobers you up just enough–enough to realize that you’re absolutely fucking mortified–did you seriously grab him? but the better question was why didn’t he stop you? why had he just let you yell at him? why had he looked at you like that, with hurt and something like pity in his eyes? and you couldn’t even figure out what you were more mad at–

could he have done it because he thought he deserved it?

hoshina opens up the door to your dormitory, letting you make your way to your bed. you slumped down, pressing your back against where your bed met the wall.

“i’ll leave you alone,” hoshina murmurs. “get some rest.”

you’re angry again, upon hearing him say that. how could a guy like him push your buttons so easily?

“so you’re just going to leave again?” you snap. “how the fuck is that fair? that’s all you’ve been fucking doing, leaving me even though all i want is to talk. i thought you liked me!”

you hate how your voice cracks at the end, and you raise up your legs to hug them to your chest. “i thought you fucking liked me,” you whisper. “and you won’t let me talk to you, won’t let me get close–what the fuck was the point of saying you loved me if this is what you’re going to do? it’d be so much less cruel to break my heat, just say no…”

hoshina’s silent.

way too silent.

“i’m sorry,” hoshina says, and he leans down, drops on the bed next to you–the bed sags beneath his weight, and he raises a hand to touch where your hand hugs your knees to your chest–but you move away. you hate the way you almost relish in the way he seems hurt, but he places his hand between the two of you, a mediating bridge. “you can hit me, if you want.”

“what?”

you stare at him, your gaze incredulous.

hoshina’s gaze is painfully soft, mixed with that strange pity. as if he deserves this.

“i’d deserve it,” hoshina murmurs. “i’m sorry.”

“i’m not going to hit you!” you say. “what would the point of that be? to prove yourself that you don’t deserve love? to prove to yourself you weren’t good enough? even though this is all your fault–”

hoshina’s gaze flickers at your words.

“that’s it, isn’t it? all part of your weird complex where you deny yourself things that you want!” you lean forward, reaching out to grasp him by the shirt. “so i was just fucking collateral damage to you?” you tumble for a moment, pushing him flat onto his back. he looks up at you, his lips parted for a moment. you feel your grip shaking for a moment, and your vision grows blurry– your eyes burn with tears as you shake. “i told you i knew what i wanted, you fucking idiot! i wanted you! i still want you!”

through blurred vision, you can see your tears dripping onto hoshina’s face–and hoshina just watches.

“i don’t care if you don’t think you’re not good enough,” you say through a choked sob. “you’ve always been more than good enough to me. do you get that? no, actually. you didn’t–because if you did you would have just talked to me like a normal fucking person!” you laugh desperately, crazily, almost–you feel fucking crazed. “and i’ve been driving myself mad! because of you!”

hoshina raises a hand to touch your cheek.

“take some fucking responsibility,” you rasp, tugging at his shirt. “take some responsibility for this! for what you’ve done to me!”

what a horrible thing love was.

your heart feels like it’s on fire, burned and scorched earth.

“i’m sorry,” hoshina repeats, simply. “you’re right.”

he leans up to press his forehead against yours, and you tremble.

“i was scared,” hoshina whispers. “that the things i’d said to kafka and the others–that you’d never know when you’d lose the people you love–that it’d come true. i was determined to shut myself out–make myself unknown again. i couldn’t–cross the boundary. to let myself have love. or anything like it. not from you.”

he sighs, gently nudging you to let him up. he leans close to you, presses his head against the wall to watch you. his gaze–this exact gaze, you’ve missed it. missed the way he watched you, with brimming fondness–and yet here you can see so clearly that there’s desperate pain in his eyes–bubbling and brimming just underneath the surface.

“i was struck by how much i wanted it. love. you. all of this. and i was scared because it could all just disappear so quickly,” hoshina continues. his hand touches your face, and you let that calloused touch, the familiar touch against your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose, your upper lip. “i didn’t–want to lose it. so i figured i could’ve just been happy with a little.”

“you fucking idiot,” you whisper in venomous response.

“yeah.” hoshina doesn’t deny it.

“i’ll give it to you,” you respond. “love. no matter how much you think you don’t deserve it. you don’t even have to ask.”

when hoshina looks at you again, he seems almost fractured at the possibility of it.

“i know,” he murmurs.

“i love you,” you say, and your voice trembles for a moment. “you fucking awful piece of shit.”

hoshina laughs weakly.

“i deserve that,” he murmurs. “but i love you. i promise i do.”

you shake your head.

“i know that,” you say. you reach out a hand to touch his face, and you can feel the smile forming on his face.

“okay,” he murmurs. “okay.”

#kaiju no 8 #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #kaiju no 8 x reader #x reader #kn8 x reader #i projected a little bit of #some conversations ive had #with my exes onto hoshina. but its alright #hoshinas got that “i dont like talking about my problems and because i never communicate i make everyone else overthink” rizz you understan

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luveline · 10 months ago

Note

Hi friend! I just have a small request for zombie au Steve if you’re feeling up for it. I miss him lol. It’s snowing where I live currently and it got me thinking. I would love to see just about anything with zombie au steve and some snow. I’m a little partial to pre-college times but it definitely doesn’t have to be. Fluff or angst bc tbh it could so go either way. Just if it strikes your fancy. And thank you as always for your lovely and warm writing you share!

thank you for reading and requesting, you angel!! some pre-college zombie!au for you <3 —steve acts like a boyfriend even when he isn’t one (officially) on a cold day alone together. fem, 1.1k

It can feel weird waking up next to you. Steve’s so used to taking shifts and sleeping half on top of one another that waking up face to face scares him at first —he flinches and his body fills with inertia as he throws his leg back to stop from falling out of bed.

You doze peacefully through his panic. Your face is soft with sleep. You have deeply etched lines under your eyes that show how badly you need it, but beside them, Steve can’t find a thing wrong with you. You’re really pretty this close. He finds you beautiful.

He lifts his hand to your neck in apology though you weren’t awake to notice his fear. “Morning,” he mouths, rubbing the side of your neck gently.

Your skin is chapped, but his hands are calloused, so it’s not like he minds. He steals another minute watching you sleep, and then he leans forward to kiss your jaw just by his hand. You make a sound he chooses to believe is a knowing pleasure, a happy sigh at being with him. He’d kiss your lips if he thought he could, but he’s been asking first each time for the last few weeks, cautious of overstepping a boundary you haven’t laid.

The thing is that Steve knew you liked him before he liked you back. Well. He guessed you were attracted to him, then argued with himself that he was being delusional. But one day you were asking if he’d hold your hand, and you wouldn’t admit it but you were scared, and he realised you depended on him for more than just your survival. He realised you were his friend, and now more than that, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t falling for you, but that he just didn’t know how to do that. You were already there waiting for him when he kissed you the first time.

You’d been so nervous. It was enough to finish him off, compel him forward into whatever this is. (Whatever, but not whatever. He loves it. He’s not sure how to handle it.)

When he peels away from you, his arms immediately prickle with goosebumps. The room is cold and it has to have been your proximity that was keeping him warm, his breath rising like fog as he stands. “Shit,” he mumbles, mouth glued together with fatigue. “Fucking hell.”

He stretches until the sore spot at the low of his back clicks and turns to look at you again, checking you’re alright while he scratches the last eight hours out of his hair. You’ve curled a touch into his warm spot but otherwise remain asleep.

Why is it suddenly cold?

A white light is emanating from behind the curtains. Steve hopes to god it’s just a bright day today, that the sun is high and reflecting off of a lake nearby, but he pulls the drapes open and startles into silence.

Powdery snow stretches thick and fast from either side of the landscape. Wind carries it around in drifting sheets, but it seems to have stopped for now.

He grabs another blanket from the linen closet, a third, and stands with his head cocked by the door listening for sounds. Steve’s more often than not thinking about who or what might be near.

He closes you both in again, shuts the curtains, and climbs into bed with you, draping the blankets heavily over your body where it makes half a heart. You pull a knee higher and disrupt the image, eyes squeezing tightly closed at his return, and opening sluggishly.

“Hey,” he says, resting his head on the pillow. Eye to eye like this, he can see the sleep in your lashes. He probably has his own. “You feeling okay?”

“Are you trying to cook me?” you ask. Now you’ve seen him, you’re relaxing, closing your eyes again.

“Don’t go back to sleep.”

“Why not?”

“‘Cause I’m bored and you’re my only friend,” he says.

“Ooh, wouldn’t say that. Not sure we’re there yet.”

Steve cups your cheek. You smile into the pillow.

He draws a line back and forth. It’s nice to give you something nice, a soft sensation. He thinks maybe that’s what falling in love is; wanting to make someone else happy, wanting them to make you happy. You’re a sweetheart when he’s not antagonising you; you’re nice, and gentle, and you hold his hand like you’ve loved him for years. He’s not stupid enough to miss how awesome that is. Nor can he ignore the way his heart has started to patter when you’re changing, or the contented, near bliss of your face pressed under his chin. This isn’t just about you wanting him or vice versa, it’s love.

“Maybe you should sleep more. You still look tired.”

You wrinkle your nose and he leans in, thinking about kissing you again, but you’re not on the same page yet. “I can’t sleep anymore. It’s midday, right?” You squint at the bright square of the window before hiding your face, your forehead slipping against his chin to his shoulder. “We should get going soon.”

“That’s not happening.”

He wraps his arm around you. You practically preen, happiness sewn into your words as you ask, “Why not?”

“It snowed last night. All night, I’d say.”

You look up at him sceptically. “Really?”

“You think I’m lying?”

“I thought it was too cold to snow.”

“Tell that to the penguins in Antarctica.”

You laugh into his shoulder. Slowly, your hand is climbing his stomach. After a half second of deliberation, you curl it behind his back and settle in. “You’re not nice.”

“I’m nice,” he says into your forehead, pulling you closer in turn. “Not making you walk in the blizzard.”

“Generous.”

He hugs you tighter and decides fuck it, pressing a generous smattering of kisses into the skin between your brows. “You love that about me. I’m oh so forgiving.” He encourages your head back carefully to kiss the tip of your nose. “Are you warm enough?”

You’d think he’s told you you’re beautiful, or that he wants your babies, the way you melt. “I’m fine. Thank you,” you mumble shyly.

He presses his forehead to yours. The snow might stay for days, and eventually you’ll have to brave it, but for now he wants to stay here kissing you and exacerbating the ache that brews in his stomach every time your breath catches. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs. “There’s more linens if you need them.”

“I won’t need them. You’re going to keep me warm.”

“I am.” Steve presses a gentle kiss to your lips, endorphins like a rush of heat through every inch of skin as you kiss back.

#steve zombie!au #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington scenario #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader

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justsomeoneintoomanyfandoms · 4 months ago

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hello! i just saw your post about Tokyo debunker ! 🫶 and I wanted to request something :

can you do haku, romeo, sho and Rui with an easily flustered reader ?

thank you ! hope it’s not a bother 🙌

Hi Anon! Thank you for your request! I hope you like the headcanons!

Fandom: Tokyo Debunker

Characters: Haku Kusanagi, Romeo Lucci, Sho Haizono, Rui Mizuki x gn! Reader (separate)

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How do the characters react when you get super easily flustered?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ooh, Haku’s going to have so much fun with you. He’s a naturally flirty person and that’s only going to increase when he finds out how easy you are to fluster.

Whether it’s a compliment or a teasing comment, he just loves being able to openly express his feelings and seeing you flustered is an added bonus.

I feel like Haku would never take it too far though. If you ever express discomfort, he’ll stop straight away and apologise for his actions.

He’ll also check in with you a few days later just to make sure he hasn’t made you truly uncomfortable. He does care about you after all.

Romeo swears he’s not even trying. It must just be his natural good looks and suave attitude.

He thinks you’re kind of cute when you get flustered. Not as cute as him of course but certainly cuter than anyone else.

He likes seeing you get like that but probably won’t go out fo his way to fluster you. He’s got a lot of things to do and as much as he’d love to, he doesn’t have time.

On the other hand, if anyone else makes you flustered, he’s going to make time to chew them out. He’s the only one who can make you flustered, got that?

I think Sho would be middle of the road with this. Sure, he likes seeing you flustered, but I don’t think he would go overboard to fluster you.

I think he’d do things a lot more subtly than the others. Whether it’s making your favourite food or complimenting your outfit, he likes making you flustered through little actions.

I feel like Sho can be pretty easily flustered as well so if you retaliate in any way, you’ll both end up flustered messes.

Sho’s also not someone who would ever take things too far. Since he’s a lot more lowkey, he’s at less risk of overstepping boundaries than the others.

Rui’s a lot like Haku in the sense that he’s very flirty and likes seeing you flustered. I think he might be a bit more over the top with his comments.

I think he would actually be quite surprised to see how easily you get flustered by his words and actions.

But as soon as he realises how much he likes seeing you flustered, Rui’s going to somehow up the ante. He’s already flirting non stop but you’ll never get a break now.

Of course, if it gets too much, Rui will notice and back down. He’s pretty observant and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable and drive you away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hey, did you enjoy this? If you like my writing, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi page! This will allow me to make some money off my writing, something I enjoy doing.

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#writing #fanfic #headcanon #headcanon request #request #tokyo debunker #tokyo debunker x reader #haku kusanagi #haku kusanagi x reader #romeo lucci #romeo lucci x reader #sho haizono #sho haizono x reader #rui mizuki #rui mizuki x reader

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neoraso · 1 year ago

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survive the night | ksw

summary: you've had a crush on sunwoo for years, but what happens when he blurs the lines of your friendship? content: ftl, slightest angst but it's over in 4 seconds, happy ending, female reader. nonidol!sunwoo nonidol! reader wc: 5.3k an: this took me a bit to finish and it’s my first full length, i hope you enjoy!! let’s talk about it too~ do not repost or rework/copy any of my posts here or on other sites

The wind bit your cheeks as you hurried your steps towards the apartment complex ahead of you. It was nearing 9 p.m. but Sunwoo had called you an hour earlier asking if you could come through for some drinks and games with a few of the guys. In that very short time you had retouched your makeup and gone through four outfits before deciding on a hoodie and sweatpants Sunwoo had given to you because they were “too small” for him. Maybe it was poor taste to wear his old clothes to his house but honestly, they were comfortable and- you might have been completely head over heels for your friend, no big deal.

Lost in thought, you were almost surprised when you looked up and realized you had already reached the sleek, silver door and raised your hand to knock. Sunwoo had given you the passcode months ago when he was too busy gaming to get up and let you in, but you hadn’t used it since because it felt like you were overstepping some kind of boundary. Of course, that never stopped him from breaking and entering your home on various occasions, always scaring the hell out of you but you could never stay mad at him long.

Before long, Younghoon opened the door for you with a bright smile.

“Oh hey, we thought you were the food delivery”

“No,” you replied, matching his smile. “Sorry to be a disappointment. Who all ended up coming? Sunwoo said he invited everyone.”

“Chanhee and Changmin are home, Juyeon and Jacob and Kevin came. No one is really drinking yet. Maybe they’re waiting for you.” He said with a laugh.

You left your shoes at the door and walked down the hall with Younghoon trailing behind you into a very raucous living room. Everyone was so wrapped up in their own conversations and you were such a familiar face, your presence almost went unnoticed. Of course, Sunwoo was the first face you saw (well actually the first back-of-a-head), but before you could greet him you tripped on Kevin’s outstretched foot.

“Oops, sorry Y/N, is the food here?”

“No Kev, that was me at the door.” You said with a playful roll of your eyes.

At the sound of your voice, Sunwoo perked up and walked over to you with his arms wide open.

“Oh look everyone, it’s my mini me!!”

The sudden attention on you made your cheeks burn and it only got worse when Sunwoo’s taller, lithe frame wrapped around yours. You lagged a bit but snapped to and gently patted his back. He pulled away but stopped when his face was near your ear.

“Are you wearing perfume? It smells nice. Come sit with me, we’re gonna play a game soon.”

Suddenly feeling faint, you were glad to follow him to the couch and sit down. This was going to be a long night.

Later into the night after your bellies were full of food and too much alcohol, you thought you might have entered into some hellish realm. Sunwoo had been glued to you all night, keeping his arm on the couch behind you and hitting your shoulder or your leg when he laughed a little too hard. To make things exponentially worse, he kept leaning down to whisper side comments to you, his hot breath hitting your cheek a detriment to your sanity. While physical affection between you and any of your friends wasn’t uncommon, something seemed different tonight that you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

The only natural course of action was to keep drinking.

After another hour you were definitely more than tipsy thanks to two rounds of ‘Never Have I Ever’ and an even a special game of ‘Truth or Truth’ (thank you Kevin!). There was some respite when Changmin asked you to get him some water from the kitchen. You enjoyed being with your friends of course but Sunwoo’s proximity tonight was becoming unbearable. You knew he didn’t mean anything by it other than friendly affection, and yet, you could help fantasizing about a day where he made an actual move on you.

The cup of water you were filling spilled over your hand just as Changmin and Chanhee called your name-sounding a bit more like geese than tipsy boys. Taking a deep breath, you decided you couldn’t hide in the kitchen forever. You dragged your feet back to the living room and carefully handed Changmin his water.

“Did I look extra thirsty or something? Why the hell is it so full?”

“Be grateful.” You grumbled.

He ignored your attitude and sipped it anyways.

You plopped onto the couch and instantly an unnaturally warm pair of arms were around you.

It was Sunwoo, hugging you for no good reason that you could come up with. He squeezed you once then pulled away and grinned at you, making your face heat up more than the KGBs he had provided for the occasion. It was almost enraging that no one seemed to notice that you were about to become undone, this was practically abuse. Finding your voice, and sounding more coherent than you felt, you asked him,

“What was that for??”

“You were just so cute! I couldn’t help it.” He let go of you, putting his arm back behind you leaving your mind in shambles.

He couldn’t help it? What the hell was that supposed to mean? He had bragged earlier that his alcohol tolerance had gone up, but that seemed to be a lie because why else would he have been so careless?

You spent the next couple of hours trying not to fall asleep which was relatively easy considering how loud the boys still were at such a time of night. Eventually Sunwoo took note of your state and patted your leg.

“Are you tired?”

You nodded and rubbed your eyes. “Yeah, I better start walking home.”

Horrified was the only way to describe the look on his face. “Walk home?! It’s way too late and I can’t come with you, too cold. Just go sleep in my room I’ll come soon, I doubt the guys will stay much longer.”

You debated this. It would not be the first time you had spent the night together, but usually he slept on the floor or the couch. Now he was implying joining you and that was just ridiculous.

“Oh, it’s ok, I don’t have any of my products with me…”

Chanhee, who had apparently been eavesdropping, chimed in from the floor with his eyes closed. “You can borrow my makeup remover and skincare.”

Sunwoo beamed at this. “See? You already have a toothbrush here, just go lay down please, you look pitiful.”

You hesitated. This would most likely create 1000 more problems for you and your feelings for Sunwoo. The worst part of it was, you couldn’t tell where he was coming from. Was he being a kind friend or did he have some sort of hidden agenda? You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t a player, so it didn’t make sense for him to be doing anything unkind to you, and yet…Whatever. It was too late to care anymore.

After bidding everyone a good night (with many whines in return), you stumbled down the hall to the bathroom to get ready for bed. You examined your drunken reflection, sighing as you swiped away your smudged mascara. What did you get yourself into?

After cleansing and moisturizing, you found your way to Sunwoo’s room. There was practically only room for a bed- a small one at that- and you found yourself wondering if you even wanted him to sleep with you or not. While it would be everything you imagined before sleeping pretty much every night, it would haunt you forever if he meant nothing by it.

You were tired, but as you laid there in his bed with his scent permeating everything, anticipating him coming in to do… whatever it was he planned to do, you found yourself tossing and turning. Honestly, you wanted to cry. Maybe it was the alcohol, but you were suddenly overwhelmed by your emotions and anxiety that had built up over the night. Going home wasn’t an option, so you sighed, accepting your fate and tried to sleep.

After what seemed like ten hours, Sunwoo finally cracked open the door, probably thinking you were asleep. He shuffled his way to his dresser and you peeked your eyes open then tried to avert them away from him taking his hoodie off. Before he turned around, you quickly shut your eyes and turned over. You heard him sigh behind you and felt the bed slowly dip with his weight. He adjusted the blanket over you and dragged his hand across your side before bringing his arm back to his chest. The distance between you (or lack thereof) was killing you. Regardless, you tried to control your breathing so as not to give away that you were still very much awake. The spot he had touched felt as though he had electrocuted you. It was heartache.

After a bit, you heard his breath even out and could tell he was asleep. You gathered the courage to turn around and face him.

You’d always thought he looked a little goofy when he slept, mouth slightly open, bangs messy. But tonight, you felt the weight of your heart.

His hair’s grown out you thought absentmindedly, reaching up to move a strand out of his eyes. His eyebrows were slightly furrowed and his full lips were pursed against the pillow. Before you could help it, tears sprang to your eyes. There was not much longer you could go without confessing, or distancing yourself. This was just too much to bear. However, the thought of confessing brought on another wave of anxiety thinking about your friendship ending if he didn’t feel the same.

He had been with you since high school, had stuck by you in all your hard times as well as the good ones, consoled you after breakups; you were intertwined. You had always heard men and women can’t be friends and thought you two were the sole exception. That was, until your freshman year of college.

You remembered that time not too fondly. Keeping up with classes and assignments was stressful, but you had Sunwoo who thankfully got accepted to your same university. He was busy on the school’s soccer team but had always made time for you, bringing you coffee on your study dates, cheering you up on your rough days, it meant everything to you. Around winter break, while you two studied for finals (which usually meant him watching YouTube while you studied alone), he confessed he had a crush on a girl in one of his classes and asked you for advice on how to ask for her number. You both had had crushes in high school and it never bothered you when he would talk to other girls, but this time had been different. What had changed in you?

You thought it would be a small fling but they ended up dating for a year. It was agonizing watching him put his everything into someone else. She never liked you, complaining you and Sunwoo were too close. He tried to keep in touch with you but you saw much less of him than you had in the four years of knowing him.

Eventually she cheated on him. You remembered the dark circles under his eyes when he had knocked on your door the day they broke up. He didn’t say anything, just hugged you and sobbed into your shoulder. In all the time you had known him he had never cried in front of you, it infuriated you to think he had given his heart to someone so careless and vile. You never forgot the way he looked at you when he retold his last conversation with his ex.

“She told me it didn’t matter that she cheated, because my heart was with someone else the whole time. I think she meant you.”

You knew it wasn’t his intention to blame you, but you carried the guilt for months. Not guilty of her parting words and their implication, but guilt in the satisfaction you had for being so important to him. So much so that you were a threat to other women interested in him. It was a sick “If I can’t have him, no one can” mentality and you knew it wasn’t fair to him so for the next few years you resigned yourself to the loyal best friend role.

When you tried to branch out and pursue other guys, Sunwoo was always supportive. When things didn’t work out with other prospects- often because you wouldn’t cut off Sunwoo when they asked- he always ruffled your hair and sighed.

“At least we have each other, right?”

Shaking yourself out of your thoughts, you rolled to stare at the ceiling.

You didn’t remember falling asleep but you woke up abruptly and in an odd position.

Then you realized you were being held tightly against Sunwoo. Somehow in the night he had moved his arm under your pillow and had his other arm tucked against your waist, his forehead pressed against the back of your neck.

What the absolute hell?

This was too far for you, still it felt so nice- and natural, as if you were meant to fit together like this forever. This was everything you had dreamed of for years (albeit under different circumstances). Clearly, he did this in his sleep, so you decided to get up before he woke up too and got embarrassed.

You carefully lifted his arm off you and crawled to the end of the bed. He looked so adorable like this, you almost wanted to take a picture before realizing you never wanted to remember this day again.

Tiptoeing your way down the hall, you hoped everyone was still asleep like Kevin who was snoring on the couch. Just as you were about to walk past Chanhee’s room, he opened the door, making you jump

“You scared me Chanhee!” you sharply whispered. “You scared ME. Why are you up so early?”

You checked the time on your phone: 8:12 a.m.

“I’m starting to get a headache. I need some hangover soup. And coffee. ASAP.” You groggily replied, voice still hoarse from just waking up.

“I thought we could order it and eat together? Why are you in such a rush?” He questioned you. “Um, I have some errands to run. Sorry, I’ll text you!” To be fair, you did have errands and the first one was to get away from this house.

“Did something happen?” Chanhee was always good at reading you, but now it was starting to feel like an interrogation.

“Nope!” you lied, “I’ll text you!”

Before he could say anything else, you brushed past him and quickly put your shoes on, feeling like you couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

The following days were not fun to say the least. The afternoon after you left, Sunwoo and Chanhee texted you multiple times throughout the day to ask if you were alright (Chanhee was a bit excessive). You insisted to them that you were just busy – which was true, you were busy avoiding Sunwoo, rotting in bed, suffering from mental anguish, etc. etc.

The next day, Sunwoo asked if you wanted to go to lunch with him and Hyunjae. While any other day you would’ve gone without hesitation, just the thought of Sunwoo was torturous, and so you politely declined with another excuse. Maybe it would’ve been better if he stopped trying, and you might’ve wished for it. But you knew that if he did, you would be the first person to cry themselves to death. It was a pretty wretched situation that you had put yourself in. This could easily be resolved if you just talked to him, but the idea was simply too terrifying. You had never been good at expressing your emotions out of fear of causing conflict, but this was different.

You realized you were in love with him. There was no going back and you were terrified.

After a week you were invited out with the group- and you decided you’d had enough crying and worrying. Sunwoo’s texts had dwindled to radio silence once he got sick of your dry replies. You didn’t know how you could show your face, but either way you just had to suck it up, meet your friends and put your feelings aside for Sunwoo’s sake.

This was easier said than done as you contemplated cancelling at least six times in the hour it took you to get ready. It was just barbecue and drinks, it was supposed to be fun. Maybe it would be but you didn’t know what to expect from Sunwoo. Would he be mad? Or act like nothing was wrong when it clearly was? You supposed there was only one way to find out.

When you got to the restaurant you spotted Chanhee first with an empty seat beside him.

“Is anyone sitting here?” You asked timidly.

“Oh hi, no I saved the seat for you.”

Something about his tone seemed off and made the sinking feeling in your gut feel ten times heavier. You looked around the table, greeting everyone and it didn’t take long for you to notice the absence in the group.

“Is Sunwoo in the bathroom or something?” you whispered to Chanhee.

“No, I don’t think he’s coming, he thinks you hate him.” His response was rather curt and made you feel like the walls were closing in around you.

“Oh…” was all you could muster.

“Do you? Hate him I mean. It seemed like whatever happened when you stayed the night completely made you stay away from him- and all of us.”

Awesome. So not only had you burnt the bridge between you and the only man you’ve ever loved, but you had also pushed away all of your closest friends too.

Hyunjae abruptly interrupted your thoughts. “Where’s Sunwoo? I thought he’d be anywhere you would be.” He looked at you so innocently, which relieved you. At least no one else knew something was up.

“Oh I … I’m not sure… I-“

“Hey what did I miss?” the familiar voice startled you at first, then sent an instinctual calmness through you.

You turned and looked at Sunwoo, trying to express your pain, your guilt. He didn’t even glance at you.

It stung and it took everything in you not to get up and walk out. But you stayed in your seat so you didn’t make a scene.

You spent the evening in silence, only speaking when spoken to and, to your dismay, Sunwoo seemed to be doing the same. After a while, you finally made eye contact for a split second and felt your eyes prick with tears. Excusing yourself to the bathroom, you could barely make it there without breaking down. This was not the time or the place to be having a meltdown. Seeing him in front of you brought all the feelings you had tried to repress to the surface and it was too much.

After calming down a bit and erasing your tear tracks as best as you could, you returned to the table. Leaning down, you whispered in Chanhee’s ear that you weren’t feeling well and were going home. Younghoon had lost rock paper scissors and was paying, so there was no reason you couldn’t leave.

You hurried out of the building and paused outside, breathing in the crisp air. Hailing a taxi, you finally let everything spill over, probably making the driver extremely uncomfortable but you couldn’t really be bothered to care.

What were you going to do?

You reached home exhausted beyond belief. At least you’d gotten a meal, you thought dejectedly. Unfortunately, there was no plan for what you’d do when you got home. Any more crying seemed like a one-way ticket to Drowningville, but your mind still ran rampant. You could call one of your girlfriends, Mia knew about your crush and had consoled you through the last couple of years. But just as you picked up your phone, someone knocked on your door.

This was unusual. But then, it could be someone from your building management.

You weren’t stupid, you stood on the balls of your feet to look through the peephole and the sight in front of you made your breath catch.

It was him.

He reached up to knock again so you quickly unlocked and opened the door without thinking any further.

Both of you were breathing heavily, your eyes rimmed red and his stare intense.

He spoke first.

“Can I come in?”

You opened the door wordlessly, not really by choice, you were completely caught off guard.

Feeling the tears pooling again, you cursed yourself for being so weak and looked down at your feet. Suddenly, he cupped your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him.

“What is wrong? What did I do? Everything was fine and then it wasn’t. I want my Y/N back.”

His whole expression was pleading and you felt so selfish for running away from your problems again.

“Do you want the whole truth, or the nice version?” You knew he wouldn’t, but you hoped he’d choose the latter option so you could white lie your way out of this situation. He let go of your face to tug your hair lightly and rested his hands on your shoulders.

“What do you think?”

“Ok fine.” You huffed. “I got freaked out the other night when I slept in your room. It just felt… like we were crossing lines and I know I’m being dramatic because it was just cuddling but it’s different for me. I shouldn’t have run away and I feel really bad about blowing off the rest of the guys, but you especially. You know you’re my closest …friend and I didn’t want to lose you but I didn’t know what to do because like I said-“

You suddenly stopped because he dropped his hands from your shoulders and looked away. Honestly, he looked pissed.

Nice, you thought I’ve ruined everything and I haven’t even told him I liked him yet. How much worse could this night get?

“Y/N.”

“Y-yes?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to confuse you.” “I know, we’re friends”

“We’re friends… but when you say it’s different for you, what exactly do you mean?”

Now you were starting to sweat, noticing the way he held back a smile. Was he going to make you spell it out like some kind of sadist?

“I mean…It means more to me than just that kind of skinship. Especially when I…”

“When you what?” Now he was smirking and it was starting to anger you.

“Sunwoo…”

“We’ll leave it for tonight. As long as I know you’re not mad at me.”

“I’m not mad at you I just-“

He pulled you into his arms, his hoodie had faint remnants of his cologne and you wrapped your arms around his waist as he rested his chin on top of your head. His chest rose with a deep inhale and then just as quickly as he grabbed you, he let you go. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed him clenching his fist, he turned to you with a lopsided smile.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” “What if I was busy?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.”

Waking up feeling more rested than you had in a while, your mind wandered to last night. After Sunwoo’s unceremonious appearance (and exit), you had showered in a daze and immediately knocked out into a dreamless sleep.

Now all you had to fear was his threat of seeing you today.

There was no warning or even a text to let you know when this man was ever deciding on showing up. It was only 10 a.m., Sunwoo usually got up after 11 so it could be any time really. Thankfully, you had some time off work for the holidays, so you relished in your leisurely time putting your face and clothes on. You went about your day as normal: eating, watching YouTube, online shopping. All lame distractions from what you were anticipating. It wasn’t until 5:30 when he texted you.

.sunwoo🦝 : if you’re not already ready - get to it, I’ll be over in 30

So pushy, you could only laugh to yourself. It was odd, you thought, how the trauma of the last week was erased by a simple conversation and a hug from Sunwoo. You supposed it had always been like this, pain followed by a soothing only he could provide. He was your confidant, your rock, your safety. Whatever happened tonight was ok with you as long as you could keep him in your life.

Soon enough you heard your door open from your bedroom so you went to greet him. He met you with a rather awkward smile and hands politely behind his back which threw you off- you had never been uncomfortable around each other. Your smile quickly dropped,

“What��s wrong?” you prodded.

“Nothing!” he tried to assuage you with a laugh that sounded a little shaky.

You narrowed your eyes before looking back at his arms hiding something behind his back.

“What are you holding? You’re starting to freak me out…” You might have to forward your medical bill to him the way he constantly had your blood pressure rising. You needed him to get on with whatever he made you wait all day for.

“Well, it’s… well.” He stopped talking and brought his hands forward holding out a bouquet of sunflowers, chamomile and dahlias. You stood there for a couple seconds not understanding what was going on. “These are for you. As an apology for upsetting you, and, well I had something to say…” He trailed off, “Are you just going to stand there like a statue all night? Don’t you have a vase or something to put these in? I don’t want them to die, you know I can’t take care of plants.”

Reaching forward, your fingers brushed his as you took the flowers and felt like you were buzzing. The sweet gesture completely left you dazed, still convinced something was up.

“These are… for me?” you asked a bit dumbly. Before he could reply, you turned to walk to the kitchen.

“Yes, I thought it would be- well I didn’t want to show up empty handed.” His eyes followed your figure to you opening a cabinet to grab a vase that was just out of your reach. Quickly making his way over to you, he stood behind you to grasp it from the shelf. Your breath caught and your heart thumped a little too loudly when you felt his hand lightly rest on your waist as he took the vase and set it on the counter. Thankfully, he moved out of the way for you to fill it with water and put in the flowers trying to regain control of your breathing. The arrangement brightened up the space and reminded you of him- bright and sweet and lovely. You couldn’t imagine him going into a flower shop and picking these out, much less picking them out for you. The thought was a little funny but not funny enough…

Bringing you out of your reverie he softly made his way to you again and leaned against the counter. “You’re so silent I don’t like it.”

“Sorry I just don’t understand…” “I know,” he cut you off, “I just – I don’t know what I was thinking the other night. I’d blame it on the alcohol but really I was just being selfish. Things changed for me a while ago but I didn’t know to approach you. I always loved you but at some point, I started to realize just how much you mean to me. You’ve always taken care of me, cheered me on, been there for me. And then…when you went ghost on me, I panicked, I knew then I couldn’t live without you. I needed you to be mine, not as a best friend but as something more- I mean I feel so much more for you. I hoped you felt the same but I just couldn’t tell with the way you ran away from me. But then last night I felt like I was pressuring you to confess so I wanted to say it first. I like you, please give me a chance to take care of you. I want to be with you as long as you’ll let me.”

Throughout his monologue, you could barely hear him over your blood pumping in your ears and you felt a bit faint. This was everything you’ve wanted for over four years and it was finally coming true- you couldn’t believe this was real life. Your mind kept replaying him saying I’ve always loved you…

“Can you please say something.” He looked a little stern, but moved his hand gently to cup your cheek, stroking the skin there.

“Sunwoo…” He dropped his hand, looking at you with pleading eyes like he was anticipating your rejection. Grabbing his hand, you continued, “You must know how I feel, I’ve wanted you for so long. Please don’t tell me this is a joke.”

“I would never joke about this, you know I treasure your heart. I’ve always protected you. Even when you dated all those losers-“

“You dated losers too.”

“I know that. I couldn’t figure out why I was never satisfied, but I would always compare them to you and I chose our friendship every time.”

You could feel his sincerity and grabbed the fabric of his shirt at his thin waist.

“So… you really want to be with me?”

“More than anything.” He grabbed your face in his hands, just to look at you. It was so tender you wanted to cry. Again. Maybe there was something wrong with your tear ducts… Softly, he spoke up again.

“Can I kiss you? I’ve wanted to for so long.” All you could do was slowly nod and he stepped towards you, leaning down to kiss your forehead, then your temple, your cheek and finally pressed his lips against yours. You moved your hands to his shoulders, sliding them up to grab the hair at his nape, pressing him tighter against you. He kissed you twice more then moved to kiss your cheek again, squishing your face to purse your lips and kiss you again. You felt like you could black out as he ran his lips across your jawline, kissing just under your ear as he whispered an apology, finally pulling away.

Breathless, you replied “No need to apologize.” You moved your hands back to his shoulders, and tried not to look at his mouth, glossy from your lip balm and plump from his affections. As he ran his tongue over his lips and slightly smirked you thought,

He will be the death of me.

“Well…” trying to disperse the intense energy in the air you turned to look at the flowers again. “These are really pretty, thank you.”

“Well the lady at the shop helped a lot. Honestly I wanted to get you more gifts but I thought if you rejected me I would have to jump out of your window to escape the humiliation.”

Sighing, you faced him again.

“Honestly Sunwoo, how could you think I would ever reject you??”

“I don’t know!! Damn, I don’t know why it took me so long to admit my feelings. I always hated your boyfriends-“

“All two of them.” You reminded him with an eye roll.

“Ok well still. I hated all two of them.” “How do you think I felt watching you dote on other girls? Being so affectionate, writing songs for them…”

“You were always my inspiration. It was easier to write about someone I had a deeper connection with and that was always you.” “Well now I’m angry.” You pulled away and crossed your arms.

A look of panic washed over his face. “Angry with me already? We can’t start like this. Y/N, even though I didn’t see it quickly enough, we have so much time ahead of us.”

Looking at love itself, you pulled him in for another kiss.

You could never stay mad at him long.

#sunwoo #kim sunwoo #tbz #the boyz #sunwoo imagines #tbz sunwoo #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo scenarios #the boyz sunwoo #the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz reactions #sunwoo fluff #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #tbz x reader

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hwanchaesong · 6 months ago

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☞🍹Seventh Drink: Beyond the journey of espresso to dry martini, the only thing that he manages to remember is his baby. 🍸

🎧: The Weeknd - Blinding Lights

wc: 651

genre & warnings: angst, fluff, comfort, singer!jisung, bar setting, drinking, implied friends to lovers, etc etc

a/n: this is a part of The After Hours Bar series. if y'all want, you can read the other album inspired fics of other groups here.

"Don't you think you're overstaying your visit?"

Jisung tilted his head to look for the source of the voice, spotting you beside him, sitting in the bar while you motioned the barista to give you a drink as well.

"I work here." he chuckles, answering your question and relaxing in his seat more, "What brings you here?"

Interrogation is necessary for you, considering that you are not one to go to bars. You usually stay at your house, enjoying ramyeon and rewatching your favorite movie.

You hummed, sipping on the alcoholic drink that the barista concocted before cringing at the bitter taste, "I am here for you."

He points at himself, "Me? Why is that? And why are you being weird?"

You gave your friend a side eye, slightly offended by his words, "First, I am not weird. I am completely normal. Second, you are the one being weird because see, your gig just finished but here you are..."

Your sentence trailed off, not wanting to continue it but he understands.

He'd usually go back to his own flat after a performance at the bar, but this time, he stayed for a drink. Which for you, his neighbor slash friend, is unusual.

So you went on a journey, despite clubs not being your thing, to check up on him.

It was safe to say that you were worried about him. You are well aware that you might have overstepped his boundaries but you really couldn't care, his welfare comes first.

"Can't I loosen up a bit?" he smirks at you, then his mood suddenly turns gloomy, "It's blurry."

He admits and you listen intently as he attempts to open up to you.

"I don't understand what is happening, actually." his eyes are downcast, slowly swirling the glass of tequila on the wooden table, "You know how much I love performing, right?"

"Yes, why?"

He laughs without any humor, and your concern rises when he blurts out his next words.

"I feel like I can't do it anymore. Like.. I am slowly losing my passion for it and I don't know what to do."

Your eyes widened, not expecting his confession because this man loves singing. Maybe he's confused? Or what he said a few minutes ago, he's tired and he needs to rest?

Surely, he must be mistaken because this, this city that he chose is his lifeline.

The way he talked about it made you realize that achieving your dreams in life is possible if you worked hard for it, just like he did.

He basically fought his parents for this, going against their wishes for him to become a doctor— and if you're going to be honest, his zeal for singing made you love him the way he is.

"Jisung I-" you stopped yourself, is it really worth it?

You urged yourself to do it, if no one else will push him, then you will take it upon yourself to do it.

You left your seat in lieu of extending your hand in front of him to take, and you gulped your nervousness.

"Listen, Jisung. I am not well versed when it comes to things like this but," you bit your lower lip, bashfully meeting his curious gaze, "let's go back to my apartment and think of ways on how to motivate you."

He raised an eyebrow, not moving an inch until you groaned in exasperation, grasping his hand in yours.

"Come on! If you lose interest in this then.. I'd miss those moments where you sing to me the new songs that you're composing."

It is now Jisung's turn to be surprised.

Amidst the neon lighting of the bar, illuminating the place and promptly blinding the eyes of people who dare to look straight into it, Jisung thinks that he's already seen the brightest glow of all.

But strangely enough, he can clearly see how gorgeous she is.

taglist:

@sunghoonsgfreal @yeosayang @mystverse @shakalakaboomboo

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cowboygenesis · 3 months ago

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2: sweet brew | din djarin x reader

part 2 of the "brown eyes" series: masterlist.

pairing: din djarin x reader

chapter warnings: none.

word count: 5.9k

series summary: din settles on the distant planet of lazure prime while seeking a safe-haven for his son. unbeknownst to him, the choice leads him to unforeseen threats—and a deeper connection he never thought possible.

notes: (update: revised the ending a little) welcome to part 2! i've been having so much fun with this fic, and i hope that you stay with me for this ride... thank you so much for the love on part 1, and enjoy!

Your walk home is comfortably silent.

Your boots tap rhythmically against the stone pathway when you exit town. Momentarily, you cringe as the sound seems noisier than you'd like in the calm of the afternoon; especially when compared to the near-silent steps of the man trailing inches behind you.

He trots a few paces back, his presence palpable yet inconspicuous, and though you’re painfully curious, you don’t once muster the confidence to glance over your shoulder.

And now, you can picture him surveying the area, ever-vigilant within the safety of his armor as you lead the way in nothing but commoner clothes. When you make the mental comparison, you’re urged to turn to him and say: ‘You can relax, it’s safe here. When we arrive, I’ll cook you a hearty meal, and you’ll feel at home for a while’ — but you know it’s out of line, so instead, your eyebrows furrow.

It’s not an appropriate trail of thought to have about a stranger, yet you recognize it’s been years since you got to care for someone the way you’re afforded to now. Picturing it feels more foreign than reality suggests, and so you bite down on your lip to shake the memories away. Another time, you think.

The soft hum of the floating orb is the only thing to break your inner monologue. For that, you thank it silently. You managed to take a single good glance at it when you were handing him his purchase back at the market, and you’ve been wondering about the contents ever since.

You catch its sleek, metal exterior from the corner of your eye with a slim line running horizontally along its length, and yet again think it has to be some kind of storage unit. On the contrary, you haven’t seen him open it once, even now as five paper parcels crowd his arms.

Briefly, you imagine it to be a weapon. Maybe multiple. You wouldn't put those options beyond a bounty hunter, especially one of his stoic, careful mein.

Weapons. The kind that can hurt or kill you if placed in the right— or wrong— hands.

With that, you realize it’s a tricky game you’re playing, perhaps even dangerous— yet you’re unafraid. It’s a small town you live in and if the man were truly out to get you, word would spread fast. In fact, it’s not a scenario you’ve been bothered by at any point of your leisurely, albeit unusual, walk. You exhale sharply.

"That…floating orb you carry," you begin, but your head doesn’t turn to him. You’d need a load more confidence for that, something you can’t be afforded just yet. "What’s inside?”

The question hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, you regret asking whatsoever. Perhaps you had overstepped a boundary or poked your uncouth nose into some seriously perilous business, but before you can retract your words, his response comes.

"Something precious," he says, and the modulated voice offers no further detail to your searching mind.

You nod, yet the wonder threatens you to push on it further and ask more, ask more, ask— you don’t let it. Instead, you breathe in gradually to soothe the savage beast that is your curiosity.

You offer a small, earnest smile, hoping that even though he’s unable to see it, he might just hear it in the way you speak to him. "Must be important to carry it everywhere."

“It is,” he counters without a beat, and that’s the end of it; no further explanation, no jokes, nothing. With just two words he has deemed the conversation over, and you heed it.

You sneak a quick glance at the orb floating beside him, and the answer echoes in your mind—something precious. But what could a man like him consider precious, anyway?

But you know better than to ask. Over the course of your life, you’ve learned that some mysteries are meant to stay unsolved, and some questions are better left unanswered.

Finally, your house comes into view in the distance, just beyond a thicket: the quaint little cottage you know and adore, standing between two apple trees and greeting you silently with its familiar picket fence. Your pace quickens gradually, legs eager to reach the friendly comforts of home.

The quiet presence behind you feels heavier now, a fact you notice with the man’s footsteps becoming sparse as you approach.

You push open the gate and pause at the threshold, turning to him for the first time since leaving town. His visor turns to you, briefly reflecting the golden sunlight that seeps into your eyes. You squint and quickly glance away, blinking the sunlight from your vision. His helmet remains fixed on you, unreadable as ever, and the silence stretches just a little longer than feels comfortable to you.

“Here we are,” you finally say, your voice soft as you gesture toward the cottage behind you. The words feel a little weak, but you mean them— it’s not much, but it’s yours.

You stand at the brink of the curb, waiting for any sign of what he might be pondering. Instead, he merely steps closer, the buzz of the metal orb following him.

He halts just before the gate, his visor tilting slightly toward the house before coming back to you. For a heartbeat, you think you see something shift in his stance, some subtle change in his posture, but it’s gone as quickly as it appears.

Your heart skips a quiet beat and you inhale deeply.

Are you… are you feeling insecure? It’s not the first time you’re having guests over, yet something about this specific encounter makes you double-check your whole presence. In the heat of the moment, you choke it up to a fear of the unknown, and leave it at that.

“Come on in, then,” you continue, pushing open the fence gate. It creaks softly, reminding you that its goal has always been a bit more decorative than practical.

At some point during a hot summer’s day, you decided to adorn the wood with an assortment of painted flowers. The job was hasty and improvised, yet the final product looked good enough to snag you a few compliments from your neighbors. Of course, you doubt your new buddy even notices.

He hesitates, and you realize he’s probably waiting for you to enter first. You want to chuckle— it’s not like you’re exactly a threat to him in your current state, but he’s definitely not one to risk such a thing one way or another.

You give him a tight-lipped smile, nod, then step in. As usual, you hear his quiet footsteps trailing behind you, down the stone path and up the porch stairs. The wind chimes rustle with the wind, and you notice it’s picked up since the morning. It’d be good to get some rain today, you think, you’ve missed the way the air smells then.

“I hope you don’t mind the mess, I wasn’t expecting… guests,” you explain with a polite chuckle, tugging on the door handle and letting it swing open with your weight.

You drop the customs this time around and walk in first, breathing in the familiar scent of caf leftover from your breakfast. As you’re about to offer him some, you remember that a meal is probably in order first and foremost. Besides, considering how long you’ve had the box in your pantry, it’s probably better he avoids drinking it at all.

You give him a short glance, then point to the living room area. It’s quaint, with a soft couch, large loveseat, and a coffee table— naturally, on it sits your small audio system, transmitting a rowdy, laughter-filled conversation between two talk hosts.

“Do you know how to use a HoloWave? It’s not that fancy of a model, but the signal is good enough to reach most of the Outer Rim,” you shrug, untying your cloak and hanging it by the doorway. “Feel free to switch the channel to something you like; my Huttese is pretty rusty, anyway.”

He looks at you, and you offer him a soft smile in return before pivoting towards your stove. If you’ve learned anything about your guest, is that he’s a man of very, very few words. You trust him to occupy himself while you do your thing in the kitchen.

You roll up your sleeves and rinse your hands in the sink. The cool water feels refreshing, and you opt to splash some on your face.

In the background, you hear the sudden flicker of the Holo signal. It buzzes, breaks, and you suddenly realise the man must’ve taken you upon your offer.

You hear him skim through the channels, letting most run a few seconds before moving ahead.

A small, satisfied smile creeps onto your lips, and you take a few pots and pans from the cupboards. He hasn’t requested anything specific for the meal, and… as a matter of fact, he hasn’t requested anything at all. The lunch offer ultimately came from you, and the stranger was nice enough to go along with it.

You sigh, then open your cooler. Inside, you spot an open jar of your preserves, some paper-wrapped meat, vegetables, and a large variety of homemade sauces lining the shelves. You’ve always enjoyed cooking, but your meals tend to be simple and homely, which you deem unworthy of a brand-new guest.

You start unloading the contents of your cooler onto the counter when a steady stream of conversation from the HoloWave catches your attention. Two men chat in Basic, discussing something that momentarily piques your curiosity.

“Nevarro?” you repeat aloud, echoing the talk-show hosts’ words. You keep your back to the man behind you, who now seems engrossed in the broadcast. “That’s light-years away.”

You try to recall the rudimentary information you have on the desolate planet. It’s a hell-hole, for one. Two, it doesn’t take too kindly to regular folk. Finally, the Empire dabbles in a ton of secrecy and has long ago claimed it as its special ops base.

He remains silent as the conversation on the HoloWave continues, mentioning recent disruptions on the planet caused by a bounty hunter linked to some infamous syndicate. The details are murky and mostly alien, making you assume the channel might be covering something more specialized or regional. You wonder if your guest was seeking out this channel on purpose.

Could he be connected to this, somehow? No, no. You shake the thought away and deem it unfound paranoia. After all, there was no reason for people of his kind to visit planets like Lazure— safe-havens for peaceful folk like you to live out their lives in harmony.

Unless he had an active hit.

You never knew much about bounty-hunting guilds, as they were more a figment of folklore where you grew up. Regardless, you didn’t need a formal education on this topic to understand that people in his profession made it a point to keep quiet and subtle while on the job. But, you knew nothing of him— matter of factly, you weren’t even certain he was a bounty hunter in the first place.

“What’s your name?” you speak out, eyes widening at how stern your voice sounds after your inner musings.

You turn around, hands on the counter as you press your spine against the edge. The man looks at you with a curious tilt of his helmet and seems to study you for a moment before making any haste decisions.

You give him time— to study you, to think, to answer at his own pace. The air between you is lax, and although he’s silent, you wait patiently for a chance to listen.

“Din,” he finally sounds out, and hearing his modulated voice after such a long period of your own monologuing makes electricity shoot down your back.

Din. You want to test the name on your lips, know how it sounds with your accent, your lilt, yet you abstain for now. Once he’s gone, you’ll have all the time in the world to muse over it.

You give him a curt nod before slowly turning back to your cutting board. Once you do, your lips widen into a pleased smile. Din.

Then, you give him your name. It’s quiet when it leaves your lips, yet you’re certain it reaches him even through the thrum of the talk show. Just like you, he doesn’t question it or ask for more; yet you imagine he mutters it under his breath from within the privacy of his helmet. The image, albeit fabricated, makes you warm.

You go back to focusing on your task, unwrapping the meat from its delicate parcel and chopping it at a leisurely but practiced pace. As you work, you let the talk show hosts’ voices serve as a quiet backdrop to your jumbled thoughts. Most of the terminology drifts past you as you tune in, but you listen regardless.

Once you’ve finished preparing the ingredients, you hear the channel flicker again, its signal briefly interrupted before fading back into a soft, nostalgic melody.

The instrumental starts with a quiet guitar solo that slowly transitions into a fiery soul piece. The hearty voice of your favourite singer erupts from the Holo, and the lyrics spring to your mind like a mantra. As the robust tune fills the room, you’re instantly swept up in its acquaintance.

As your fingers move deftly across the skillet, you begin to hum along with it, stirring the vegetables as they soften and caramelize.

The chorus begins, and for a moment you shift somewhere far away. The recollection is hazy at first, but soon, you remember it vividly.

Then, it all comes pouring down on you without a warning: your body stiffens as a memory dug deep in your brain begins to claw its way out of the crevices.

You see your old quarters.

Your ex-bunkmate is there, her familiar figure draped in nothing but a fluffy towel, damp strands of hair clinging to her neck as she sits cross-legged at your shared desk.

The air smells of fresh soap. Her brow is furrowed in concentration, chewing absentmindedly on the eraser end of a pencil as she puzzles over a half-finished crossword. Starlight filters through the narrow viewport, casting her in a soft, silvery glow, and in the background, that same tune plays quietly through your old HoloWave. It’s a different model, yet the music is unmistakably and painfully paralleled.

She hums, her voice breathy compared to your honeyed one now, matching the melody as it drifts through the cramped room. It’s ordinary—peaceful, even—but now, as you stand idly over your stove, it feels heavier than ever.

For a fleeting moment, you can almost hear her voice again. If you concentrate enough you know you’ll recall the way her lips would quirk up when she solved a puzzle, and the way she’d look at you afterward with a satisfied grin that made the rest of the universe disappear— if only for a second.

Your chest tightens, and the hum dies in your throat.

You’re about to excuse yourself to your bedroom when a voice sounds out from behind you. “Hey,”

When you spin around with wide eyes, you see Din sitting at your two-seat dining table, visor pointed at you, and his body surprisingly relaxed.

“Hey,” you greet back with a nervous smile, hands shaking as they return to stirring the pan absent-mindedly. Despite your body going through a sort of shock, you feel your mind slowly withdrawing from the dark as he seems to look at you. You thank the Maker for his timing.

“How far is it to the capital from here?” he questions, voice pleasantly husky as his gloved palm smooths the surface of the table mindlessly.

You drop the chopped produce into the hot skillet with a satisfying hiss and puff your cheeks in thought. The moisture hits the surface and crackles, the sizzle filling your ears alongside the melody from the Holo. It’s a different one now, a mellow orchestral you’re unfamiliar with.

“Mon Kilim is a three-day walk from Terrine,” you explain, tilting your head to look at him once in a while. “We’re a bit unfortunate to be cut-off from the main roads, though, so you’d have to make a trek through the forest. There’s a river that takes you there if you follow it down-stream, but because the treeline is so thick, it gets real dark at night.”

As the vegetables begin to soften, you open a jar of your preserves. The lid pops off with a soft click, releasing the rich, fruity fragrance into the air. You spoon a generous portion into the skillet, the thick jam coating the ingredients and melding into the sizzling mixture. The scent is mouthwatering—sweet, savory, and just the right amount of spice.

You catch Din’s helmet tilt downwards as he seems to ponder your words. You sigh sympathetically.

“…But our head merchant, Poiko, has an old speeder at his disposal,” you elaborate, and watch Din’s visor meet you again. “He makes a trip to Mon Kilim once every moon cycle, so if you’re patient and good enough at bribery, you might be able to catch a ride with him.”

“When will he travel again?”

“Well… he’s away as we speak. Left this morning, I think he’s planning to stay overnight this time, too, so you’re out of luck.”

“So it’ll be another month until he travels again?” Din asks, and you hum in acknowledgment.

You take a deep breath, savoring the decadent scents. Quietly, you wonder if the stranger, still in his helmet, can smell the decadence you’re cooking up for him. Could he smell the flowers in your garden when you stood on the porch? The worn leather of your couch?

“And before you ask, no, I doubt he’ll let you borrow it. I’ve heard it cost him a small fortune, so he’s understandably a little protective over it,” you chuckle softly, “Plus, it’s an old Imperial model. The fuel is expensive and the spare parts are virtually unattainable, so most mechanics refuse to take care of the thing.”

You hear Din begin his retort when suddenly, you feel a tug at your skirt. You dismiss it as your imagination playing tricks on you at first, but almost on cue, the pull comes again.

You look down, and your eyes widen.

There, on your wooden parquet floor, sits a creature—light green with large, black eyes and comically big ears. It blinks up at you, cooing softly as its three-fingered hands tug at the hem of your skirt.

For a moment, it seems like both you and Din are rendered speechless at the sight. You drop the wooden spatula into the pan and instinctively crouch down to take a closer look at the strange critter.

“Hey, there,” you grin, extending a finger towards it. It looks like a youngling, but not one you’re familiar with. For a moment, you deduct it must be one of the neighborhood children, one you’ve perhaps omitted.

The child coos at you again, moving one of his grabby hands to your extended digit. His skin is velvet-like to the touch.

“Kid—” Din hisses, seemingly awoken from his shock. You catch him in your peripheral, shooting up from his chair and crouching down next to you.

His gloved hands work quickly, grabbing the creature and placing it in his arms. Somehow, you don’t feel alarmed. The man’s hold is benevolent from what you can tell, cradling the little one’s body with an apt softness you wouldn’t expect from someone like him.

“Is he…” you begin, suddenly noting the proximity between you and the armored man. The green creature squirms in his hold, looking up at him with what you can only describe as mischief. “Is he yours?”

Din’s visor levels with you, and you can’t help but squint. You’ve never been closer, and somehow you hope to catch a glimpse of whatever is underneath that Maker-forsaken helmet.

There’s a moment where everything around you goes silent. Something in the air around you becomes apparent, and you can’t quite place it, but it hums underneath the surface, electric and taut.

“Yes,” he replies quietly, “he’s mine.”

You can’t help but connect the dots. Big eyes, green skin… is that what Din looks like underneath all that metal? Where would his ears even go in that helmet?

A chuckle rips from your throat at the image, and you aimlessly try to mask it with your palm over your lips.

His helmet tilts in question, and you shake your head dismissively.

“I’m sorry, I just thought of something,” you explain through your giggling fit, inhaling deeply to recall your calm mein. “He’s adorable. Snuck up on me without any noise, but I guess he learned from the best, so it’s no surprise.”

Din ponders your comment for a moment, looking down at his child. The little one is glancing at the counter now, reaching his hands towards what you assume he wants— the dinner you’ve been preparing. You mentally browse your cupboards, thinking whether you still have those child-friendly plastic utensils your friend left over years back.

“His name is Grogu,” the man finally speaks, placing the kid on the floor again. He looks at his father in question. “He was… orphaned. I took him in under my care.”

Ah, an adoptive son. Your theory was wrong, after all.

“Grogu,” you repeat with a smile, and the child turns to you with a squeak. You can’t help but laugh at the reaction, and that seems to urge him to waddle towards you.

His movements are confident, yet the sack wrapping his body seems to restrict his movements enough to make it a hassle. Your hands reach out, and you’re ready to embrace him when Din’s hands wrap around him again, pulling him back into his arms much to Grogu’s dismay.

Your grin drops to a lingering smile as you watch Din stand up, his kid tucked firmly in his elbow. “Alright, that’s enough.”

You follow suit, standing up with a soft sigh before returning to the stove. You bring the meat-filled chopping board to the pan and tilt it, letting the juicy pieces fall into the vegetable medley.

As you stir again, you catch Din walking towards the mysterious orb he had left in the living room. From afar, you watch him tap something on his gauntlet, the metal whooshing open seconds later. He mutters something to Grogu, placing the boy in— what you now know to be— a cradle.

“Is he ever a handful?” you tease with a warm chuckle as Din returns to the dining table. He sits back in the same chair, letting Grogu hover beside him in the now-open cradle. You watch the child gaze curiously around the room, his wide eyes drinking in every detail.

"Sometimes," he admits, voice low and quiet.

"You seem to handle him well," you say, glancing over your shoulder. Grogu has his eyes locked on you now, and when he catches your gaze, his little hands reach toward you again, a gurgling coo escaping his mouth.

You smile. If it wasn’t for Din watching over you, you’d probably be acting on your surge of cuteness-aggression at this very moment.

Din shifts slightly, his posture stiff. "He’s… special," he says finally. "Different from other children."

You raise an eyebrow, sensing his apprehension to answer. But again, you don’t press.

"I can tell," you murmur, eyes softening as you look at Grogu. He’s settled down now, content to sit in his cradle, his big, soulful eyes still trained on you.

You turn your attention back to the meal, and when you taste-test a chunk of cooked meat, you finally deem the feast ready to serve.

"All done. I’m sorry it’s a little plain, I didn’t have much to work with, unfortunately," You stir the pot again, "It’s a quick twist on Karkan ribene. This was a hit with my friends back when I—" You stop yourself, realizing you’re teetering on dangerous memories. "Back in the day," you finish with a small, tight smile.

Din nods, and you start preparing the table. You set down three glasses and two sets of cutlery— one plastic, bright blue, and adorned with yellow stars— a fact you hope Grogu is old enough to appreciate.

“How old is he?” you suddenly question, withdrawing a half-full pitcher of sweet brew from your fridge. Finally, you place two bowls down, omitting your own. The breakfast has been keeping your belly full.

He tilts his helmet to you. “I don’t know. A friend of mine speculates he could be around fifty.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “Fifty?” You repeat, filling each glass with the golden-brown drink. “Fascinating.”

Din nods at your comment as you raise the pan from your stove. With the spatula, you fill each bowl to the brim and murmur in satisfaction when you realize you’ll even have some leftovers for yourself.

You watch as Grogu attempts the first bite, his small hand knocking the spoon against the bowl with a soft clink.

“Is he older than you?” you question with a hint of mischief, putting the pan back on the stove and taking a seat in the chair opposite from Din. Your hands wrap around the textured glass, and you take a sip.

He tilts his head slightly, the movement almost hesitant— but your smile stays steady, warm, and inviting, and after a brief pause, he finally speaks.

“Slightly,” he admits, his voice carrying a note of amusement you hadn’t expected.

You blink, letting the information settle in, and your curiosity emerges anew.

“Really?” you say, leaning forward just a little, unable to hide the intrigue in your voice. You feel comfortable enough to toy with the idea of teasing him but finally decide against it.

Instead, you let a soft chuckle slip. “Well, he’s doing pretty well for a fifty-year-old,” you joke, glancing over at Grogu as he slurps happily at his bowl of stew.

The kid looks up at you, eyes blinking. His chubby hands fumble with the spoon, barely managing to get a bite into his mouth, but you find his spirit more than makes up for his lack of coordination.

Din shifts in his seat, and though he remains still, you sense something stir behind the visor.

“He’s worth it,” he says, breaking the silence with his resolute tone. It sends a jolt down your spine.

You meet his gaze—or at least, the blank stare of his helmet—and something unspoken passes between you. There’s more to this, you know it, but such is the case in every story. Even your own.

For a moment, you let the air between you settle. The cool breeze sends your thin curtains flying, the scent of your meal lingering warmly in the space between you.

After a few more bites, you break the quiet again, this time with a gentler tone. “How long has it been since you took him in?”

Din nods, though you imagine there’s much more he could say if he wanted to. “A while,” he affirms.

You nod, and the weight of his words tells you he probably lost count of the days. If anything, you wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t count the days at all, as you couldn’t really imagine him crossing squares off a calendar, or worse, writing down important dates for him and his son. 21st, Grogu’s birthday. 3rd, secure bounty. Your lips curve at the fantasy.

Din’s visor turns toward you, and you wonder, for just a moment, what expression might be hidden beneath. Maybe there’s a trace of a smile on his face, one that mirrors yours.

“I try,” Din says simply, and the words, yet again, hang in the air as you both watch Grogu slurp down the last of his stew.

The quiet moment lingers, and you glance over at Din’s own untouched portion. The bowl is still steaming gently, so you look back up at him with a quirked eyebrow. “Are you not hungry?”

He shifts in his chair slightly, glancing down at the hefty portion. For a split second, you hope it’s to his liking.

“I… can’t,” Din replies quietly, his voice tinged with apprehension.

Your curious eyes connect with his visor, and he takes a moment to collect himself before granting you an explanation— one he doesn’t owe you at all, you realize.

“My religion demands I keep my face hidden from any living, breathing thing,” he trails, taking a brief glance at his child. The boy plays with his utensils, clicking and clacking them together and glancing up at his dad as if looking for a hint of approval.

“I understand,” you nod, giving him a reassuring smile. You’ve never heard of such a doctrine in your life, yet the universe holds many secrets, religions, and philosophies. It’d be unwise of you to denounce something you don’t understand in its full capacity.

“I appreciate the meal, but I can’t eat with you.”

“Din,” you finally speak his name out loud, and it feels so natural rolling off your tongue. His helmet seems to fix on yours again, more attentive than ever. You repeat your question, this time with a gentle insistence. ”Are you not hungry?”

He sighs through the modulator, a sharp, metallic wheeze. “I’ll eat on the ship.”

But the answer doesn’t satisfy you.

Without another word, you rise from your chair. The old wood creaks softly beneath you as you grab your half-finished glass of sweet brew and look at him with a warm smile. You need not look at his face to know he’s puzzled.

“I’ll wait in the garden. You can close the windows, shut the blinds… even lock the door, if you like,” you trail, approaching the doorway and sliding into your woven slippers. “And if you’re comfortable, take your helmet off. Eat your fill, have a drink— take a break, if only for a little while.”

There’s a moment of comfortable silence that befalls you after your suggestion drops. His gaze is still on you, watching, scanning, considering.

And finally, when you catch his nod, you smile.

Your eyes gleam when they catch Grogu’s, his hands extending towards you in… curiosity? Farewell?

From a distance, you glimpse his little face splotched in bits of sauce.

“Bye, baby!” you chuckle, raising a hand to wave at the child. Your gaze moves to Din, and the smile on your face softens. “Take your time. I’ll be out front.”

He nods again, watching as you open the front door with a gentle creak. Your stares linger on each other, and you’re almost compelled to stay… nope. Nothing good ever came from overeagerness.

With one last look at the pair, you step into the outside world. The air hits your face, reddening your cheeks and mussing your hair.

You take a deep breath, letting the floral fragrance settle around you as you walk down the porch steps. Turning right towards the apple tree, you spot the wooden swinging bench beneath its canopy.

A patterned, purple blanket covers its length, and you grab it unceremoniously with your free hand. With a sigh you settle onto the bench, feeling it rock gently with your weight.

You drape the blanket over your shoulders and shimmy around. The warmth of the fabric is a satisfying embrace, and you take a few sips of your cool, sweet brew to even out your body’s temperature.

Your eyes wander over the garden, taking in the verdant greenery. To your delight, the coreberries you planted last season are pushing through the soil, tiny, unripe fruits just beginning to show. The fruit is tart on its own, but perhaps sweetens through maceration— it’s something you have never tried, but make sure to take a mental note for later.

Inside, you hear the subtle rustle of Din closing the blinds, and you smile when you realize he leaves the window open; perhaps it’s just to let in the fresh, afternoon air, yet your mind likes to conjure another reality, one that makes your heart and body warm.

You sip your brew again, savoring its sweetness. The garden lights begin to cast a gentle, ambient glow as twilight slowly approaches. The soft rustling of the wind chimes mingles with the distant hum of insects, creating a soothing soundtrack that harmonizes with your mood.

You lean back on the bench, gazing up at the sky as it shifts from golden to hues of pink and purple— an ordinary end to a most peculiar day.

The glass in your hand is empty now, condensation beading along its rim. You’re just starting to lose yourself to the soft sounds of the evening when the door to your house creaks open again.

From the corner of your eye, you catch the soft hum of the hovering metal sphere as it emerges. Grogu, nestled safely inside, peeks out at the world with half-lidded eyes, his tiny hands resting on the edges of the crib as though the meal had lulled him into a food-induced stupor.

Moments later, Din steps through the doorway, his armored form unmistakable. You tilt your head slightly, the bench swinging gently as a small, contented smile tugs at your lips.

Din spots you immediately, and surely enough, his helmet is right where it belongs; perched comfortably on his shoulders. Briefly, you feel a pang of dismay at the fact.

“We’re leaving,” he declares, walking down the porch steps and approaching you. He keeps a distance, but even from your position, you can tell his posture seems lax compared to when he first stepped into your home.

“Okay,” you reply, your voice steady though your heart tightens a little at the words.

There’s a beat of silence as Din nods. His visor remains fixed on you, lingering for longer than usual, and you realize your eyes are locked on it as well. Embarrassed, you clear your throat, glancing away briefly to collect yourself. The last thing you want is for this moment to end so soon.

“I’ll make sure to prepare this little guy’s favorite next time around,” you chuckle lightly, your gaze drifting to Grogu, his eyes drooping.

“I don’t think he’s got a favorite,” Din says, his voice carrying an unusual softness. If you didn’t know any better, you might think he was at ease. “He’s like a womp rat—eats anything that moves.”

You gasp in mock horror, looking at Grogu with raised eyebrows. “A womp rat? The audacity!”

And then, you hear it. Laughter.

It’s brief, and could probably be written off as a trick of the mind, but you swear by your intuition.

“Thanks for the meal,” he nods, breaking you out of your haze. You look up at him hurriedly, yelping when the glass in your hand almost slips away.

You’re stupefied. The sound rings throughout your hazed mind, the soft baritone making you exhale sharply— a reaction you’re terrified to overanalyze.

He offers one final nod, and despite your heart’s silent prayer, this time he doesn’t linger.

His steps are purposeful as he turns toward the picket fence, long shadow stretching across the yard as the brightest hours of day ebb into the evening. The familiar creak of the gate reaches your ears as he leaves, the sound echoing through the now-quiet pocket of the planet.

As the soft breeze beckons a melody of the wind chimes, you exhale.

The last thing you catch before he disappears behind the thicket is the wide-open, curious gaze of the little green child staring right into your very soul.

—

Dusk slips over the sky, painting it in fading hues of gold and violet, and with a quiet sigh, you finally muster the energy to return inside.

As you step out of your slippers, your eyes fall on the dining table, dimly illuminated by the soft glow of the fading day. Two bowls rest upon it—one messier than the other, but both empty.

The quiet of the night surrounds you as you sit at the table alone, and with every bite you take of your own meal, a gentle smile finds its way onto your lips.

For tonight, this is enough.

65 notes · View notes

onabat11e · 11 months ago

Text

my kind of stress relief (lucy bronze x ona batlle)

hiya lovlies! its finally finished! i’ve added the ao3 link before the read more, i decided to just cross post fics for people who like to read on tumblr also <3

rating: E for explicit (18+)

warnings: smut, strap-ons, strap sucking, fingering, cunnilingus, probably something else i forgot

summary: ona is stressed from training, lucy is more than happy to help her relax (also known as ‘I needed an excuse to write smut’, so feel free to skip the plot)

wordcount: 4.4k

AO3 Link

Lucy could practically see the stress emanating from Ona with the way she was walking from the car back to their shared apartment, her shoulders tight and head down.

Lucy unlocked the door, holding it open to allow Ona to enter first. Both girls slipped off their shoes before Ona made a beeline for the living room and crashed onto the sofa, Lucy following her.

“C’mon, love,” Lucy sat next to Ona, tapping her lap for her girlfriend to come and rest on her. Ona did just that, sighing as she placed her head onto Lucy, who began playing with the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, nails gently scratching over the skin beneath.

“Tough day?” Lucy asked as she half-mindedly traced patterns across warm skin. Ona’s response was merely a grumble of something unintelligible before she planted her face into Lucy’s leg.

“How about a bath then?” Lucy tried again for a response, a warm feeling spreading in her chest at the way Ona turned her head to look up at Lucy, brown eyes sparkling at the suggestion.

“Mmm, now that is a good idea,” she smiled through heavy eyelids before adding, “Only if you’ll join me, though.” Ona pouted as if Lucy needed any further convincing of the idea.

“Of course, my love,” Lucy smiled at the view of her girlfriend resting her head across her lap. “Might have to let me get up first, though.” Ona rolled her eyes at the joke, planting her face back into Lucy’s thighs.

Lucy gently nudged Ona to allow herself to get up and go to the bathroom to start the bath. Disgruntled by the loss of contact, Ona huffed and curled up on the sofa, watching Lucy wander off.

Lucy headed towards the room’s centrepiece, a large porcelain bathtub, feeling the cool tile under her feet. She turned on the faucet, checking the temperature before putting in the plug and adding some scented bubbles under the running water.

Lucy busied herself in rummaging through cupboards for towels and collected comfortable clothing, setting them aside for later. Lucy added a few more details: dimming the overhead lighting before striking a match and setting some tealight candles alight. Once she decided she was happy with the setting, Lucy called across the apartment to Ona, who soon plodded into the room and took in the warming embrace of the room's aura.

“C’mere,” Lucy helped Ona undress, carefully kissing over newly exposed freckled skin after removing each piece. There was nothing Lucy enjoyed more than making Ona feel loved and beautiful.

“My beautiful girl,” Lucy traced over Ona’s back tattoos, causing goosebumps to arise under her fingers. Ona felt the blood rush to her cheeks, blushing at the compliment from Lucy.

“No, you,” Ona replied over her shoulder before turning back around and pulling up the bottom of Lucy’s sweatshirt, helping the older woman take it off.

After both girls were naked, Lucy climbed into the bath first, sitting and getting comfortable. Lucy held a hand up to help Ona join her, who placed herself between Lucy’s legs. Strands of loose brown hair tickled Lucy’s chest as Ona placed her head down on her. Ona released a breath and closed her eyes, relaxing a little as Lucy kissed her forehead.

“What’s got you so stressed then?” Lucy asked, fingers intertwining with Ona’s. Unsure if Ona was ready to talk, Lucy worried that she was overstepping boundaries, but she was put at ease when Ona’s reply came quickly.

“Mmm, just with everything happening,” Ona motioned with her hand. “Mapi’s injury, Alexia needing further surgery... what if I-“. Ona’s mind was running a million miles a minute, considering all the possibilities for herself and the club and worrying about the future of her career.

“Shh,” Lucy kissed Ona's temple, cutting off the rambling. “Don’t overthink it. You’ll be fine; the team will be fine.” The soft tones of Lucy’s voice calmed Ona’s anxieties, allowing her to relax further into the bath.

Lucy helped wash Ona’s hair, giving her a scalp massage as she lathered the shampoo, followed by the conditioner, and ran warm water through her hair, rinsing after each product.

Rubbing the soap into Ona’s back, Lucy could feel the stiffness of the muscles under her palms. She pressed her hands slightly harder into Ona, examining her body and the stress that her body physically held onto.

“Your muscles feel so tight,” Lucy sighed, empathising with how tense her girlfriend must feel. Ona just sighed in agreement as a response and let Lucy continue bathing her.

“I think you need a full-body massage, darling,” her voice lowered ever so slightly, fingertips pressing gently into the soft skin of Ona’s shoulders. A slight whine escaped Ona’s lips at the sensation of Lucy rubbing her sore tissue: her way of agreeing to a massage tonight.

Ona wandered the bedroom, covered in only her towel, anticipating the massage to come. Meanwhile, Lucy had decided to slip on her sports bra and some sweatpants before quickly following Ona.

“Get yourself comfortable,” Lucy instructed as she began lighting candles and locating the cocoa butter for Ona’s massage. Ona discarded her damp towel and lay on the bed, facing down. The scent of vanilla and lavender began to fill the room and set a calming ambience for the evening.

The bed shifted, the weight of Lucy now kneeling next to Ona’s bare body. Lucy squeezed the bottle, cold lotion meeting warm hands, rubbing it evenly between them before starting at the base of Ona’s neck.

The cold contrast made Ona jump a little before she relaxed into Lucy’s palms, which now caressed her shoulder blades and spine. Lucy was revelling in the small whimpers that would escape Ona’s mouth. And honestly? Ona couldn’t deny that the way Lucy’s hands were working her muscles was sending small waves of pleasure low in her core.

Lucy's hands continued, taking extra care of the tight muscles around Ona’s neck and shoulders, passing over Ona’s ‘Good Luck’ tattoo at the base of her back. Lucy’s fingers pressed and circled over Ona’s skin, using moderate pressure to relax the muscles.

Almost inaudible noises and hums escaped Ona as Lucy continued to rub the cream into her tan skin; Lucy tried to ignore the thrumming in her lower abdomen at the noises she was evoking from Ona. Her mind wandered slightly, thinking about other ways to force Ona to make these sounds.

Lucy moved down to Ona’s legs and started pushing fingertips into muscular calves, feeling the built-up tension dissipate from the actions. She massaged the muscles, moving up and past Ona’s knees. When skilful hands reached her thighs, Ona’s legs subconsciously opened from Lucy’s touch, allowing Lucy to capture a glance at her glistening pussy.

“Someone’s needy, huh?” Lucy teased Ona about the wetness that had gathered at her entrance. She licked her lips as she admired Ona’s form, fantasising about what she wanted to do to her.

“I can’t help that you have that effect on me,” Ona giggled, spreading her legs wider and rolling her ass backwards, lifting herself ever so slightly off the bed. Ona would be lying if she said she couldn’t feel her pussy throbbing with need just from Lucy’s masterful hands roaming over her back.

After ensuring that she had massaged Ona thoroughly, Lucy gave Ona’s ass a playful grab before instructing Ona to turn back over.

“Feeling better?” Lucy asked, moving up the bed to lay on her side next to Ona. Idle fingers occupied themselves with tracing swirls onto Ona’s inner forearm.

“Mmm, mostly,” Ona’s eyes drifted down, looking at the curve of Lucy’s lips. She leant up, sneaking a quick kiss from Lucy.

“Oh?” Lucy feigned shock, raising her eyebrows and bringing a hand to her chest. “Was it not good enough for you, my Highness?” Her fingers moved from Ona’s forearm, moving up past her tattoos, across her shoulder, before finding their resting place at the base of Ona’s neck.

“I can think of something that would help,” the implication of Ona’s statement was heavy, hanging between them. Lucy’s eyes travelled to Ona’s lips momentarily, noticing her smirk before she pulled Ona in for a kiss.

Ona sat up in the bed slightly, pushing into the kiss. She parted her lips against Lucy’s, begging her to deepen the kisses. Lucy straddled Ona, a knee placed between Ona’s thighs. Ona tried to subtly shuffle, bringing her core down against Lucy’s knee to try and relieve the growing pressure. The action made Lucy pull back from the kiss, taking a moment to look Ona in the eyes.

“Naughty girl,” Lucy tutted, pushing her knee into Ona, this time with purpose, causing a slight hitch in Ona’s breath. “Trying to use my leg to get yourself off? You could have just asked nicely.” Ona tried to look away with shame, but Lucy placed a finger under her chin, tilting her head and forcing eye contact. “Do you want that? You want your pretty little pussy to get fucked?” Ona’s cheeks heated with Lucy’s crude words.

“Please,” Ona managed to breathe out, her head already dizzied with lust. Lucy's hand stroked around Ona’s neck before cupping her face and leaning back in to kiss her again. Their kisses got more frantic, tongues making small touches and asking for entry, both girls allowing the other in with ease.

Ona was desperate to be touched, to the point she thought she would be able to cum just from grinding against Lucy. That was until Lucy pulled away again, dipping her head to kiss the sensitive skin of Ona’s neck.

Lucy began kissing a path down her memorised map of Ona’s favourite spots, feeling the girl’s heartbeat come to life under her touch. Lucy smiled into the skin at Ona’s hitching breaths when her lip brushed over the top of a hardened nipple.

Ona’s back arched, her sensitive chest begging for more stimulation. Warm lips took the nipple in, her tongue swiping across and around it, causing Ona to writhe at the sensation.

Lucy released the nipple with a slight tug of her teeth before leaving a wet trail of kisses across Ona’s chest to give the other equal treatment. As much as Lucy loved and wanted to drag out teasing Ona, she knew how badly the girl wanted- needed to be fucked.

Lucy’s hand danced down soft skin and made a slow motion, dragging a single digit up Ona’s wetness. Lucy gathered the moisture on the tip of her finger, circling it around Ona’s desperate clit.

Whispered profanity echoed in the room from the two women; Ona moaned from the teasing touches Lucy left on her. Lucy started her slow motions and stroked wide circles around Ona’s clit before building up to quickened rubbing. Lucy looked at Ona and noticed her trying to swallow her reactions, chewing on a quivering bottom lip.

“Don’t hold back,” Lucy reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair from Ona’s face before cupping her chin and looking into her eyes. “Tell me what you want.”

“Inside,” Ona whined, barely able to form words, the now present dominance in Lucy’s voice making her feel weak. Eyebrows furrowing, she continued, “Need your fingers to fill me.” Lucy was more than happy to provide, giving teasing strokes between Ona’s folds before pushing a single finger into her.

Ona’s groans begged Lucy for more, her hips thrusting up to meet Lucy’s movements. Lucy curved her finger gently against the soft tissue before dragging it out slowly and repeating the motions, Ona’s walls desperately fluttering, desperate for more contact. Lucy continued her movements, working at Ona’s growing wetness.

“Need more,” Ona grabbed Lucy’s wrist, holding it and making eye contact. Lucy’s mouth twitched, a smirk forming in response to Ona’s newfound assertion. Lucy let out a slow breath before she added another finger, pushing two fingers into Ona now, feeling the warmth accommodate the increase. Ona’s grip weakened, her hand falling and letting Lucy pump strong fingers into her again.

“You’re so good for me, baby,” Lucy cooed. “Do you know how sexy you look right now? Taking my fingers like a good girl.” Ona’s head fell back, the dirty talk sending a spark of pleasure travelling down her core.

Lucy took this as an invitation, kissing up the side of Ona’s neck, stopping when she reached underneath the younger girl's ear. Lucy took the earlobe between her teeth, using a playful force to tug on the flesh.

The palm of Lucy’s hand hit Ona’s clit as her movements grew more intense, quickening the speed of her fingers, her bicep flexing as she thrust her arm into the movements. Lucy moved her thumb up to resume rubbing Ona’s clit. The girl's back arched further off the bed, the additional pleasure sending her reeling.

“I-“ the word half choked, half moaned out. Ona was getting close and wasn’t sure how much longer she could last from Lucy’s fingers pleasuring her.

“I want to feel you cum on my fingers; do you think you can do that for me, baby?” The low sound of Lucy’s voice sent another jolt of pleasure coursing through her. Ona murmured a string of words in Spanish, bringing a hand to her mouth and biting down on her fingers to stifle the sounds.

Lucy sucked the skin below Ona’s ear, sensing how close to climax the quivering girl under her was. Lucy whispered for Ona to let go, saying sweet nothings and complimenting the girl for taking her so well.

Ona’s breathing was shallow, coming and going in short bursts. The combination of Lucy’s fingers pumping and thrusting and the roughness of the thumb on her clit was enough to push Ona over the edge.

Ona’s orgasm hit her with a crash, her walls gripping again and again onto Lucy’s slowing fingers as Lucy guided her through the waves of pleasure. All Ona could feel was her thighs shaking and clit twitching underneath Lucy’s touch.

“Oh darling, look at the mess you’ve made.” Lucy teased, making sure to maintain eye contact before licking the remnants of Ona’s cum off of her fingers and the palm of her hand. Ona’s eyes were heavy, her breathing deep as she recovered. “And to think I’d just bathed you. I guess I’ll have to clean you up.” Before Ona could come around to say anything, she felt Lucy’s tongue on her inner thigh, making long strokes against the remnants of her prior orgasm.

“God,” Ona whined, her thigh twitching at the contact of Lucy’s tongue on her delicate skin. She opened her legs further, giving more space for Lucy to continue her work of licking and teasing Ona’s inner thighs.

“You’re such a messy girl, aren’t you?” Lucy referred to the sheen covering Ona’s inner thighs and the wet patches on the bed between her legs. Ona covered her face and tilted her head back, not wanting Lucy to see the blush of embarrassment cover her cheeks.

Lucy licked a straight line up from Ona’s entrance up to her clit, humming at the taste of her heat. The view of Lucy, head between Ona’s thighs, lapping up the juices, her juices, was breathtaking.

Lucy sucked Ona’s swollen clit into her mouth, humming at the taste of her girlfriend’s need. Ona’s hips jolted back into the mattress, choking on a moan, the stimulation almost being too much where she was still sensitive from her previous orgasm.

Ona’s hands slipped into Lucy’s hair, tangling among the strands, desperately needing to find more pressure. Lucy cycled between suckling on her clit and circling it with the tip of her tongue, wanting to draw out the experience as much as she could.

“Joder,” the Spanish rolled off her tongue, her hand tangling further in the strands. “I’m not going to last long if you - God - if you keep doing that.” Moans broke up Ona’s sentence, her eyes rolling back into her head at the pleasure.

Lucy grabbed the underside of firm thighs, bringing Ona closer to her. Ona mumbled something under her breath as Lucy continued to play with Ona’s clit in her mouth, not caring about the mess that was beginning to drip down her chin from the act.

Ona let out a whine as Lucy continued to suckle on her clit, her fingers circling Ona’s entrance again, threatening to dip inside.

“No teasing,” Ona complained, her walls fluttering around nothing as Lucy’s fingers danced just shy of where Ona needed her desperately. Ona continued to buck her hips, her cunt begging to be fucked by Lucy’s fingers again. She pressed the digits further in, two fingers immediately finding their target, curving and pressing at Ona’s sweet spots, causing the girl to arch her back off the bed, shuddering with pleasure.

Lucy began slowly curling her fingers and pumping inside Ona. The wet lewd sounds of Ona’s pussy filled the room, harmonising with the small whines and moans. Lucy toyed with Ona’s clit, taking her time and swirling slowly with long licks.

Lucy could feel Ona getting close again, the woman moving her hips unrhythmically, muscles tensing from the pleasure building in her core. Lucy doubled down on her actions, fingers thrusting quicker into wetness, her tongue picking up the pace, leaving shorter and quicker licks across her.

Lucy slowed her movement as Ona’s walls began spasming around her fingers. She wanted to drag out this high for as long as she could, increasing the pressure on Ona’s hot clit as it twitched through the orgasm.

Ona’s body went limp, her breathing hard and jagged. She looked down, beckoning Lucy to join her. Lucy leant over the top of Ona and ducked down for a small kiss. Ona smiled into the kiss, still able to taste herself on Lucy’s lips. Ona reached to tug at Lucy’s waistband, looking up through heavy eyelids for permission to dip her hand in and touch her.

“Shh, tonight is about you,” Lucy placed a hand over Ona’s. “I would rather make you cum until you forget your name.”

“But I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel,” Ona swallowed, trying to ignore her body’s reaction to Lucy’s near-sinful words.

“Hmm?” Lucy quirked an eyebrow, “And how good is that?” Her thumb stroked the back of Ona’s hand as she looked into her eyes with a look of intrigue and adoration.

“So. Fucking. Good.” She kissed the side of Lucy’s neck between each word before leaving a light lick and sucking over her pulse point.

“How about,” Lucy intertwined her fingers with Ona’s. “If you’re a good girl and cum on my cock, I might just let you eat me out. Yeah?” She squeezed Ona’s hand, awaiting her response.

Ona shuddered with pleasure at the idea, her pussy throbbing with anticipation of Lucy’s strap filling her up. She nodded up at Lucy, biting on her lower lip slightly.

After a short search, Lucy located the toy before stripping off and stepping into the harness, the purple strap standing to attention between her thighs, giving her a confidence boost.

The way Ona looked up at her with lustful eyes caused a coil to tighten in the bottom of Lucy’s stomach. Lucy knew Ona was likely wet enough to take the dildo but still opted to apply additional lubricant to the length for Ona’s comfort.

Lucy rejoined her partner on the bed, target fixed on the wet heat where Ona’s thighs met. Kneeling between Ona’s legs, Lucy grabbed the base of the dildo and positioned it at Ona’s entrance.

“Are you ready?” Lucy rubbed the tip of the dildo against the wetness that remained at Ona’s entrance, watching how the girl’s abs would tighten slightly each time it hit her clit.

“Sí, cariño,” Ona affirmed before adding, “Need you in me so badly.” She begged, opening her legs wider to beg for Lucy’s cock. Lucy was eager to oblige, using her grip on the toy to guide the tip into Ona.

Ona closed her eyes, letting her body adjust to the strap slowly being pushed into her. Lucy guided the toy slowly, inch by inch, paying close attention to her girlfriend’s expressions.

“Are you okay?” Lucy’s voice softened as she momentarily took Ona’s hand for support, her thumb rubbing against her. She paused, half inside of Ona, and waited for further assurance before moving her hips any more.

“I wanna feel you deep in me,” Ona wrapped a leg around Lucy’s back, trying to pull her closer. Lucy traced Ona’s jaw and bottom lip, smiling at her with pure love and adoration in her eyes.

Lucy slowly moved her hips back, pulling out most of the way, pausing for a beat before easing back into Ona’s heat again.

“Fóllame,” Ona begged, needing Lucy to fuck her harder. She sucked her bottom lip in, eyes wide and full of desire. Lucy obliged, picking up her pace. The lewd sounds of skin on skin and the toy ploughing into Ona filled the room.

Lucy hooked an arm around Ona’s right leg, lifting it around her waist to fuck Ona deeper. The new angle caused the woman underneath her to moan at the sensation of being filled. Lucy upped her pace, fucking Ona with frantic passion. She admired the way Ona’s body shook, her breasts bouncing in time with Lucy plunging her cock into Ona.

Ona’s free hand gripped her chest, eyes rolling back at the additional pleasure she was giving herself. She took a nipple between her fingers, pulling at the sensitive area and groaning.

Her hand continued down her body, reaching her clit and gently tweaking it between two fingers. Ona stilled her hand momentarily and locked eyes with Lucy, a silent request to be allowed to touch herself.

“Fuck,” Lucy groaned at the sight of it, head tilting back slightly, “Play with that pretty little clit for me, baby.” The rasp of Lucy’s voice sent boiling pleasure down Ona’s spine. Her fingers sped up at the command, pressing tight circles into the sensitive area. Lucy’s hips kept rutting into Ona’s, the two bodies shaking together.

“Close,” Ona whined, thighs starting to tense up, her body getting ready for release. Lucy admired the way her cock disappeared into Ona’s body, again and again, lewd wet noises coming from Ona.

“Cum for me,” Lucy’s voice was dark as she kept up the pace, grabbing harsher at Ona’s thighs, fucking her with an unrelenting tempo. She wanted Ona to feel every inch of her thrusting and pumping in her.

Ona threw her head back as her noises grew in volume, her body pushed over the edge; she covered Lucy’s strap in another release, fluttering around the strap. Lucy whispered praises to Ona as her hips continued to fuck her through her climax. Lucy reduced her movements to slow, long strokes to aid Ona through the aftershocks of pleasure. Lucy pulled out of Ona, who whined at the loss before Lucy fell next to her on the bed. Lucy breathed hard, chest heaving from the physical exertion of fucking Ona's third orgasm out of her.

Ona looked at Lucy with dopey eyes, admiring her flushed complexion and the sweat beads rolling down her temples. She couldn’t help but be enamoured by Lucy’s rising and falling chest.

She leaned down and kissed a path down Lucy’s torso, taking extra time to worship Lucy’s prominent abs, rubbing over them with her fingers. Bringing her mouth to the tip of the dildo, Ona licked her lips before taking it in her mouth. Maintaining eye contact, she used her mouth to clean her warm juices off of the strap, moaning as she did so. She hollowed her cheeks, taking the toy as far deep into her mouth as she could, tears pricking at the sides of her eyes from the sensation of the silicone hitting the back of her throat.

After sucking the length a few times, she circled the tip with her tongue before licking down to the base and then trailed off in kisses to meet Lucy’s thigh. The new contact with sensitive skin caused Lucy to let out a fluttering breath.

Making quick work of the harness, Ona discarded the garment and toy before bringing her face back between the muscular thighs and licking up the pooling arousal that was begging for attention.

“Your turn,” Ona’s tone was cheeky, biting her lip. She gripped Lucy’s thighs, opening them further to position herself closer to Lucy’s pussy.

Ona’s tongue toyed with Lucy’s entrance, teasing and dipping inside, moaning at the taste of her girlfriend's desire. Lucy sighed, the tips of her fingers digging into Ona’s scalp, beckoning her to continue. Ona hummed into Lucy’s pussy with delight at just how wet and worked up Lucy had gotten from fucking Ona into the mattress.

Ona was sloppy, her tongue lapping at Lucy’s sex, revelling in the taste and feel of her. She experimented with a range of long licks and quick movements, indulging in all of the little reactions Lucy’s body had. Ona loved feeling Lucy’s body tremble and crumble under Ona’s touch.

The mix of saliva and Lucy’s arousal covered Ona’s lips and chin as she took Lucy’s clit into her mouth, giving a light suck on it as her tongue made quick circular strokes.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, baby,” the guttural groans she made in reaction to Ona’s tongue echoed through the room. Lucy’s thighs were shaking as she was already approaching her climax.

Ona’s hands pushed down on Lucy’s hips, pinning her down and stroking up the soft skin. Roaming hands settled over abs, feeling how they would flex in response to particular tongue movements or when Ona changed the way she was sucking and lapping.

Lucy couldn’t stop the string of profanity from leaving her mouth, her body feeling overrun with the pleasure that her girlfriend’s mouth was giving her. Ona’s tongue continued to dance circles around Lucy’s clit, not daring to falter or slow.

“Fuck,” Lucy exclaimed as her head fell back against the pillow. “I’m close,” her hands continued tangling into Ona’s damp hair, her nails pressing against the soft skin of Ona’s scalp. Lucy’s back arched further off of the bed, her hips grinding into Ona’s mouth as she chased her high.

Lucy’s shallow panting stopped momentarily, her hips lifting off the bed as she held Ona’s head in place, trembling against the wet mouth that remained sucking on her clit.

Lucy let out a shuddering breath as she tried to regulate her breathing after cumming hard on Ona’s tongue.

“Alright, baby?” Ona shuffled back up the bed, curling up into Lucy’s side and draping an arm across her torso.

“Feeling relaxed yet?” Lucy asked, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Ona’s ear before she replied:

“Mhm, that’s my kind of stress relief.”

#ona batlle #lucy bronze #ona batlle smut #lucy bronze smut #woso fanfics #woso smut #mine #my writing #honestly not 100% happy with this because i’m a perfectionist but i didn’t wanna push it back AGAIN #smut #luna

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cherryhak · 5 months ago

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YOUR TOUCH

Pairing. Lee Heeseung X reader

Genre. Fluff - situationship - best friends to lovers

Warnings. Mention of alcohol but no one’s rlly drinking

WC. 1.6k (1661)

Note : HEAVILY inspired by this fic (go read it i swear you won’t regret it). Also i haven’t posted since december omg 😭😭 this has been rotting in my notes for sooo long and i finally decided to finish it. Enjoy x

With his face buried in the crook of your neck and your hands tangled in his hair, you couldn’t help but let your mind travel back to the previous events that took place a few hours ago.

It wasn’t unusual for Heeseung to hold you close to him in the late hours of the day nor was it odd for him to bury his face in your neck the way he currently was but what was odd was him holding you like this in front of other people.

After your six long years of friendship, Heeseung and you both came to an agreement that would benefit the both of you.

You clearly were touch starved and so was he.

So naturally Heeseung, being the good friend he was, came up with the idea of you holding one another.

It did sound kind of weird at first but after giving it a second thought you found it to be a good idea.

I mean, two friends hugging each other, where’s the hurt in that ?

You decided to keep this side of your friendship behind closed doors in order to not raise any suspicions or judgment from your other friends.

Heeseung would cling onto you while you were cooking or lay on your lap when having a movie night together.

You would run your fingers through his hair as his would run along your arms when you both cuddled. It felt nice to have someone to hold close to you despite not being in a relationship.

Nothing has changed between you two, your dynamic was still the same it has been for the past 6 years of knowing each other. The only change being ; you would cuddle daily.

You would sleep together, tightly holding one another, without overstepping any boundaries.

You made it clear that this agreement was only up until one of you found a partner that would feed your needs but this has been going on for the past 9 months now. Not that you complained at all, but during those nine months you might or might not have developed some stronger feelings for the man...

“Stronger” as in not just friendly, platonic love.

You tried to burry those feelings as you knew well that he could never return them and that it would be foolish of you to think he ever would.

It didn’t seem like he put much thought about this situation-ship you two were in.

But it felt as if the more you tried to push these feelings away, the stronger they got.

You decided to just enjoy it while it lasted because you knew this would one day come to an end as you were sure he didn’t see you as more than a best friend.

Or you were almost sure.

Because when you pushed open the door of the fancy house in which was thrown a party you were not invited to, your eyes instinctively scanned through the sea of people, looking for the one and only Lee Heeseung.

It wasn’t too hard to find him given the fact that he was taller than most people here.

You locked eyes with him and his face lit up upon seeing that you actually came to the party you said you wouldn’t attend (you gave in to his endless whining about how “it would be so boring without you there”).

You made your way through the crowd as best as you could, trying to reach your small group of friends.

Heeseung extended a hand in your direction which you strongly grasped, helping you out of the crowd and smoothly pulling you to his side.

“You came” he smiled as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders swiftly.

You didn’t think much about the action, the way his arm nonchalantly hung around you just made it seem like two close friends standing next to each other. And everybody here knew the two of you have been best friends for a while now.

The evening went on smoothly, as smooth as Heeseung’s unoccupied hand was when it made it’s way to your waist, lightly caressing your exposed skin.

As smooth as his arm, that was originally slung over your shoulders, caged your front and brought your body closer to his.

You shot him a confused glare only to find him already looking down at you with a small smile on his lips. He simply shrugged at your confused face and tugged you in closer to his chest, resting his head on top of yours and leaving you even more baffled at his rather out-of-character behaviour.

A few of your friends sent you questioning looks to which you replied back with obvious confusion written in your eyes, signalling them that you also had no idea of what was currently going on.

And you weren’t lying— you really didn’t know why he was acting this way in front of so many people. This was something he would do when he came over and you were both in the comfort of your small apartment with no one watching.

When did he get this bold ?

Why was he getting so close to you when everyone could see ?

Both of his arms were now wrapped around your shoulders as he correctly rearranged his head over yours, fully back hugging you.

He started to rock your bodies from left to right slowly in a comforting way.

You looked like a literal couple and it obviously didn’t go unnoticed by your friends.

“Hold on are you guys a thing ?” One of your friends, Jake, cautiously asked, eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Your eyes widened for a millisecond and you gulped in slight panic.

Trying your best to seem unfazed by the sudden but not unexpected question, you were about to answer when you felt Heeseung stop his motion and beat you to it.

“No we’re not”

Oh wow, why did this kinda hurt ?

A part of you somehow hoped he would have had a different answer, that he would’ve pretended you guys were a thing.

But what’s worse between denying and pretending ?

Jake was quick to catch on to the disappointment that flashed through your eyes and chuckled to himself before looking back to Heeseung.

“Then you wouldn’t mind of if i asked her out, right ?”

Your eyes almost popped out of their sockets as you looked at Jake in shock but the boy shot you a reassuring glance telling you to not worry. He was actually helping you out.

This man is truly an angel, isn’t he ?

Heeseung’s hold grew tighter around your shoulders, holding you as if you could run away at any moment.

“In your dreams Sim Jaeyun”

And when you thought your heart couldn’t beat any faster…

The obvious possessiveness lacing his voice caused your friends to shout all kind of things, all along the lines of “you two being in a secret relationship and hiding it from them this whole time” and “Heeseung being jealous”

And this only fed your delusions and your growing feelings for the boy currently holding you.

Was he really jealous ? It could be the alcohol though…

Your eyes traveled to the red cup discarded on the counter and you could clearly see that the liquid inside it didn’t down one bit ever since you arrived.

So this couldn’t be it..

Was he putting on a show for the others ?

I mean, why would he do this ?

So many questions ran through your mind and in a blink of an eye Heeseung and you found yourselves on your way (to your) home and on your sofa with his head ,as said before, buried in the crook of your neck and your hands tangled in his hair.

The questions did not stop though. Your mind kept replaying the way his arms tightened around you when Jake asked if he could take you out.

He could easily lie about not liking you but you were smart enough to not miss his body language. But then again you maybe overthought this whole thing and he could just be messing with you.

You decided that the only way to find answers to your questions was to ask him directly.

So without thinking twice you blurted out his name, breaking the comforting silence that surrounded you.

The boy simply hummed in your neck, indicating that he was listening to whatever you had to say.

“Do you like me ?”

Heeseung lifted his head from the comfortable spot between your neck and your shoulder, looking up at you with a somewhat deadpan expression on his face.

“What do you think ?”

Huh.

You furrowed your eyebrows at his answer. That was definitely not what you expected.

Heeseung lightly chuckled at your confused expression before answering. “You’re either really stupid or you’re doing it on purpose”

You stayed silent at that -rather, you’ve been silenced- which earned another laugh from the boy.

“Why do you think i proposed this whole arrangement nine months ago, hm ?”

When you didn’t answer he leaned his face closer and closer to yours until your lips were only a few inches apart, brushing against each other.

“Maybe i should show you then” he whispered before connecting your lips together in a tender kiss that you, obviously, returned.

The kiss didn’t last long but enough to speak both of your feelings without a word.

“Does it answer your question ?” He asked, bumping his nose into yours cutely.

You too decided to answer by connecting your lips once again in a longer and more passionate kiss this time, spilling the unspoken longing and hidden feelings into it.

You both pulled apart after some time due to the lack of oxygen.

Heeseung pecked your lips one last time, then your chin before locking eyes with you, smiling tenderly.

“I was not just touch starved, i was starved of your touch”

#kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #lee heeseung #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen imagines #enhypen reactions #enhypen heeseung #enhypen headcanons #enhypen lee heeseung #enhypen heeseung fluff #heeseung fanfic #heeseung fluff #heeseung enhypen #heeseung fic rec #kpop x reader #heeseung x reader #kpop fluff

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justevelynnnn · 13 days ago

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I want to be more

Summary: You work in a brothel in the early 1900s after WW1. You had few clients but just started having one regular. He was solider. You fall for him only after a few times of meeting. You soon wanted to be more than…whatever this is.

Warnings: Cussing, Reader is a woman, prostitution, smut mentioning throughout, alcohol consumption, signs of limerence, angsty ending

(this is barely proofread too)

A/N: This idea came to me out of nowhere..i’m so happy with it though. I had fun incorporating 1920s slang into this too. I think i have an idea for a part 2 but that might come later..

It was a cold winter day. Clients came in less when it was cold, not wanting to travel through the snow. Only the really, truly libidinous would come during these times. You enjoyed it. A break. But with breaks came no money being made.

The owner was generous enough to let you and a few others stay in your private rooms and live there. You’ve been here for 5 years now. A job is a job. It paid enough for you to scrape by. Not that you really enjoyed it.

You got used to it quick. At least, as used to it as you could. As one could. At first, you were a nervous, naiive olive, but now you’re a stronger, almost street smart woman. You knew how to handle yourself, how you should be treated. Men knew now to respect you. To not try and get out of paying or overstep boundaries.

You drank often to hide any pain. Forget any and all traumas. You always were tipsy if it could be helped when it was time to work. It made it…easier. Lighter.

The brothel itself was nice. Spacious. Luxurious. A blind tiger as most described it. Disguised as just a fancy bar for any authority figures who passed by.

You got paid well because of this by each client but really only ever made just enough for rent some food and maybe a dress or something else. You weren’t too popular to get many clients. Most men you had were Soldiers from the war. Occasionally, if you looked nice enough, an egg or wealthy man. Most of them were married. Older. Drunks, whether it was a secret or not.

You didn’t care for them. They didn’t care for you more. It was just business.

But there was one man who was different. One man who stood out to you. Who made you feel something other than a deep disgust.

His name was Logan Howlett.

He was young seeming, never telling his age. He just got back from the war. Obviously worn down by the trauma he possibly witnessed. Eyes told it all as well like many other soldiers. He always drank. Sometimes smoked a cigar. But always went right up to you.

At first, you almost refused him. He was dirty, and swaying around. He gave you a damp crumpled up $50 and mumbled about your hips and eyes. He smelled a bit too-

But then he pulled out another $50. You were convinced now. $100! was alot. You’d choke this encounter down too.

But he was surprisingly good. He didn’t just fuck you. No. He made love to you. He was soft. Gentle. You were almost taken aback. He treated you like glass. He actually even licked your core, something 90% of your clients ignored. Until you came 3 times you didn’t see his manhood.

He fell asleep next you, exhausted and sad. He was a sad drunk. He told you how he wanted to marry you, how he wanted to run away from everything with someone. Most men would confess things to you either before or after. But you ignored a lot because they were often drunk, like Logan.

Logan logan logan.

His first encounter with you left an impression.

A week passed and you still couldn’t get him off your mind. It was almost depressing. And just when you felt like he’d never return, he did.

He walked in, head down. Sat at the bar for an hour just drinking. And then he looked for you. You didn’t go up to him, just to see how long he’d look before he settled for another. But he never did. He keep looking. Looking and looking and walking and walking.

Then he saw you and walked up to you quickly. A hug. A drunken, messy hug and kiss.

“I never got your name, dear..” He whispered. He could barely stand.

Did you want him to have your real or work name?

“It’s y/n.” You said softly.

“y/n……… y/n…” Logan repeated slowly. “Beautiful li’you. Pretty girl…”

You could barely hear him. He had his hand in your lower back that horribly distracted you. A soft, “your mine” hold. Possessive. Different from other men.

You started to love the taste of whiskey just because you always tasted it on his lips. You started to love the faint scent on cigar on his hairy chest. Dog tags hitting you in the face has he thrusted into you. The way he held you like you’d get away. Treated you like you weren’t just a couple of wet holes but a human. A woman. Even drunk he was somewhat of a gentleman.

You wonder why he chose you. Why did ever go to you. Did he go to other brothels too? He seemed infatuated with you and you him.

You told the other women about him after the fifth time. They barely believed you. A bit of jealousy filled the air as they were rarely, if at all, treated so lovely. No, everyone was just holes. Just holes. Eye candy and holes.

The next time Logan came some women tried to climb on him. They offered him discounts. You almost wanted to fucking spit. He wasn’t yours though so why did you feel like this?

It made you damn near giddy as you watched him shoo them away like flies. Almost disgusted. Like he was some virgin waiting for marriage. Like it was almost rude for women to act like that despite where he was. The women huffed and walked away, some back to their rooms and others to other men. A couple have you a glance or so but said nothing.

You just waited for Logan to come back to you and touch you and treat you like you were more.

You felt spoiled.

He really acted like you two were going together. You began to wonder if he was courting you in some odd way.

Rumors started amongst the women who cared that you two were dating and you almost got put out. The number one rule was to never date your clients. Ever.

You assured he was just stuck on you or something and it wasn’t your fault. That he paid you the best. Out loud you say money, in your head you say attention.

He certainly becomes all you think about. Oh yes. Ohhh yes. You started noticing little details. His beard that was sometimes shaven. His hair. How it smelled. How it was the only soft thing on him. His nose. He once confessed he hated it but you loved it. He let you ride it once. Amazing experience.

And was such a sex magician. That’s how’d you describe him anyways. He was awfully skilled. You really wondered if he got practice before you. And how much?

You learned bits and pieces about him after sex. He’d lay there and talk about the war. Why he drank sometimes. How me missed his family. How he wished he was “normal”. Normal huh.

You never spoke much. You didn’t have anything but this. Your home life and childhood was rough, obviously leading you here. You had no special talents or dreams really. You recently has some interest with becoming one of those flapper women. But he was the first bit of true excitement you had in a while.

Logan stopped coming for a while. This time you were sure he wouldn’t return. The first week was horrible. You laid in bed like a rag doll as men used you, thinking about how Logan would at least butter you up before anything started. You mindlessly counted money as you wondered where Logan could be. You drank and drank to try and forget but he left such an impression on you it didn’t work.

The other women “comforted” you, but deep down we’re happy you were back to their level, with no special clients.

“You shouldn’t get so attached to the clients!”

“It was fun while it lasted huh now, sweets? Oh, i experienced the same thing.”

“An odd cat he was…maybe it’s for the best.”

You ignored it all. You didn’t care for any of that shit. Fuck it all. You just wanted him back.

Did he even care for you the way you did him? Would he even remember you? Did he? He was so drunk sometimes….you couldn’t tell if he cared at all. He remembered your name sure but that was it. You just couldn’t deny your feelings anymore.

These deep feelings.

Limerence.

There was passion that drove you crazy. You felt like you were going crazy.

Days blurred. Holidays passed. Men came and went. Take that both ways.

But this cold winter day, he returned. You were sitting on a stool, drinking again. It was just your 3rd.

You hear the door open and the little bell rang. Heavy footsteps. Leftover snow underneath crushing under boots. You turned around as you felt the presence behind you, getting ready to say your prices and hours assuming this man wanted your services.

However, you stopped mid breath as you turned and saw… “….Logan?”

He took his hat off and nodded. He quietly sat next to you and stared into your eyes. He was sober but had dark circles.

“I been busy you see..” He starts, his breath smells of straight cigar. “Th’s why i haven’t been around.”

You’re buzzed and you think you’re dreaming. You’re sure you look a mess right now.

“I missed you, Lo..” You whispered.

Logan looks away. He sighs. He says nothing for a long while. It worried you. Did you cross a boundary? Was it too far?

“That’s the issue, doll.”

Logan turns to look you in the eyes, brows furrowed. Your heart rate picks up but you felt a heartbeat elsewhere after the nickname came out his mouth. Doll..

“Wait-” You start but he puts a finger to your lips.

“You are a prostitute baby. I’m…a mess. A drunk vet. Addicted to giggle water. You don’t want me. It don’t make sense. We’ve gotten too deep into this. I come for a quick fuck and then back to reality as it should be. You don’t want this, pretty..”

You feel your heart break. You sober up a bit too.

“It don’t feel quick to me. You treat me like i’m human. You the only one.” Your voice cracks a bit. You are also a sad drunk most days so the alcohol was not helping you process this situation properly.

Logan has an unreadable look on his face. He shakes his head soon after and licks his lips. He’s thinking. Maybe you caught him off guard? The lobby was suddenly very quiet even though it’s been like that the whole time. Just you, Logan and the bartender. There was a woman in the corner but she was preoccupied with a man herself, paying no mind to you or Logan.

You want to puke.

“Logan-”

“Close your head, woman. You stuck on me or something?” He says a bit sharp.

You just nod biting your lip. Suddenly you’re drunk again. The room is spinning a bit and you couldn’t sit straight with a constant nagging to go hysterical.

“We can’t keep doing this. We just can’t.” He says not looking you in the eye anymore. “We can’t.”

“Oh, applesauce…why not?”

“Because we can’t. You listening? You must be zozzled. Listen to me, you don’t want this. I’m telling you.”

“But, i do want you. It’s all i want now. You’re all i want now. Please, Lo. Don’t leave me here.”

“Y/n…”

“I want to be more than this.” You spit out. Logan freezes. He almost looked scared for a second. A tear falls out your eye as Logan gets up swiftly after you say it.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

You say nothing. He hands you a $100 and tells you to buy something nice. You watch, sadly, as he goes out the door.

You swivel back around.

“I need everything this can buy please.” You hold up thr $100 to the bartender. He looks at you like you have two heads but starts getting many cups out.

You’re going to be drinking for days.

#logan howlett #wolverine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine angst #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #brothel #post ww1 #logan howlett angst #logan howlett smut #wolverine smut

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sillyblues · 2 years ago

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the ocean and the wind. (5)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ synopsis: tonowari is the ocean and ronal is the wind. where does it leave you?

ੈ✩‧₊˚ notes: reader is so lucky you have a support group but it's a good thing you are not that blind right?? anyways lmk your thoughts and which parts were your favorite i make sure to read all of your comments and rbs btw sometimes i just don't reply smts bc i got busy but yeah i appreciate every notes you leave!!

part 1 ✩ part 2 ✩ part 3 ✩ part 4 ✩ part 5 (here!) ✩ part 6 ✩ part 7 (final part)

The wind guides the ocean and wherever the ocean goes, the wind is there. The two cannot exist without the other for only together, they create the most beautiful peaceful calmness or the strongest violent storm.

Between the two, where does it leave you?

None. Of course, there is no place for you. You are nothing to them. You are not even a speck of particle that the air carries or the smallest piece of sand that the sea touches.

They were the source of your greed, your guilt and shame, but you were wrong. You are the shameful and disgraceful one. You who dared to overstep your boundaries. You who dared to desire them.

Humiliation burns your skin and chars your heart and remorse fills your lungs with smoke and suffocates you. You let it ablaze and reduce your heart to a pile of ashes and glowing embers that burn you inside out.

Your ache stings and brings forth droplets of salty tears that do nothing to extinguish your pyre.

"Ma’evi, what pains you so?" Your Sa'nok cradles you to her chest and sways you gently. Tears sprung out of her eyes as she puts your head on the crook of her neck. Like a furious river, you tremble and no rocks could stop your overflow as you sob.

Your muffled wails fill your home. You cry and cry undeserving tears you didn't notice when your father had come inside, only the warmth of another embrace and soft pats on your back.

“Cry it all out to us, my dear, and we will cry with you.” Do you dare to tell them? Do you dare to tell them of a horrible daughter you are? Do you dare to tell them of the sins you have committed?

“Let us see you, my child,” your mother tucks the strands of your hair that stick to your face into your ear. “Let us bear your pain instead,”

You don’t dare say anything and let their touch lull you to your sleep.

“The Olo’eyktan have announced that the Iknimiya will be held in a few days because of the auspicious sign of the return of our brothers and sisters,” your mother gently says as she cuts some food. You all sit on the floor as you eat. You didn’t want to eat with them at first, preferring to sleep the rest of the day away, but your parents have been concerned since your walls shattered in front of them. “Truth be told, your Sempul and I think you are ready.”

Your father hums as he offers you a bite from his hand and you eat it.

“Yes, we can see how independent you are already. You are even a greater hunter than I am now,” he jokes and your eyes waver at the effort he puts into making you feel better each day ever since your walls broke down in front of them. You smile and joke weakly in return.

“Am I now?”

“Mhm, an even better healer than me as well. I think you would make a great Tsahik,” you freeze at that. Memories of Ronal and Tonowari rush through your head and your hand trembles in place when you reached your hand for food. You quickly pulled back and lightly clasped your hands together, hiding your palms away from them.

Tsahik. Ronal is much suited for the position. She is more suited as Tonowari’s mate and Tonowari is more suited for her. Their bond is like no other after all. You would not be surprised should they choose each other when they complete their Iknimiya, Letsakx made a good job of waking you up from the blindness of their attraction for each other, which will happen soon. Very soon. And soon, you will have to live with your closest friends’ love that does not include you.

You hum, not daring to speak for fear you might stutter and they will hear the shakiness of your voice. They are very keen and observant. Perhaps they already have an inkling of what you feel. Of what you have thought. And what you have done.

“But Ma’evi, we are not saying this because we want you to complete your Iknimaya now,” your mother says as she takes the knife and plate away and gets closer to all of you three. She holds your hand in hers and looks at you with so much softness and your father squeezes your other hand with such gentleness that you feel yourself tearing up but you hold it down. “We do not want you to do it if you yourself do not feel ready.”

“Take your time, my dear, we will be always waiting here for you.” Really, you don’t deserve your parents. They don’t deserve a child like you. But the love they have for you is great and you find yourself squeezing their hands.

You find yourself letting them see you.

The day of Iknimaya has come and all of the men, women, and children had gathered on the central island. Many young hunters participated in this coming-of-age ritual. You are among them, along with your other friends and some you knew from one of your classes back then and of course, Tonowari and Ronal. They had been trying to get close to you, but you only smile painfully so.

“Are you alright now, [Name]? I haven’t seen you in so long!” Tonowari says to you with concern swimming in his bright blue eyes and your heart flutters at the thought that you were his subject of worry, but you are quickly reminded that you are not his. Ronal touches you and inspects you carefully as she circles around you for wounds that you might have. Your battered heart trembles under her keen gaze that looks only at you for the moment but you are quickly reminded that you are not hers.

“Your mother told us that you had gotten ill, are you sure you can join this Iknimaya?” your mother told everyone who asked about you an excuse for your absence. You realize that with you, they touch a lot and the ache grows for they caress you not because they want you as you want them. You smile bitterly.

“Yes, I want to do this,” you gently take their hands off of you, “Let’s talk again later, hm? My friends have been calling me.”

You send them a smile and return to your group of friends. You did not look back as you promised, despite the greed that claws you inside out. Your friends exclaim in surprise and joy at your presence. Some hug and some send a smile towards you.

But it’s okay, you think as you converse with them, this is a lesson you must learn and you would never dare to disappoint Eywa or everyone else again.

It wasn’t long until the ritual formally started and you find yourselves in the sea with water halfway up to your legs. The Olo’eyktan started his speech moments ago about the history and importance of your coming-of-age ritual, his gaze heavy with pride for all of you.

“Young hunters, it is time,” the Olo’eyktan says as he looks at each one of you, “It is time for you to become a true Na’vi. A true Metkayina.”

“Show us that you can handle the mighty and strong roars of the ocean by taming a Skimwing. Show us your worthiness by bonding with your spiritual brothers and sisters. Show us that you deserve the symbols inked into your skin.” He stomps and you all stomp. You all let out sounds of gruff and puffs with the tongues of the men out and the lips of the women pursed down.

Now, you watch as one by one, the names of the others are called out and they tame the Skimwing. You stare as Tonowari chooses the biggest one with the brightest orange spots that decorated its wings. You stare as he takes a quick glance at you and blinks while he turns away to look at Ronal. He sends her a reassuring smile and none for you. Your heart is silent as you watch him successfully tame his Skimwing and swim through the fast currents and return so proud and so imposing.

You stare as Ronal chooses the calmest one with calming green spots that adorn its wings. You stare as she looks at you with firm eyes that you could not read. She turns to Tonowari and nods at him. A part of you is scared that you do not know her well anymore and a part of you bleeds out at the confirmation that only Tonowari can truly see and understand her. Your heart fades away as you watch her gracefully soar and dance with the wind and return smoothly with such elegance.

Your turn has come and you look at the Skimwings that paid no mind to you. But there was one that looked back at you and swims slowly toward you. You let out a silent giggle to yourself. Would you let me see you? You hummed as you questioningly looked at it. It touches your hand with its head and makes you pat it as if saying, If you would let me.

You swing your leg over its body and sat on its back. You take your queue from behind and formed Tsaheylu with your Skimwing. The feeling momentarily blinds you before you become hyper-aware of the water that surrounds both of you, your weight on its back, and its feelings.

You both swim gently until the pace becomes faster. You both dive deep into the ocean and see the shoals of fish that swim past you, the sways of the underwater forests that glow so brightly, and the calmness of the water that leaves you breathless of its beauty.

You swim back to the surface and put your feet on its behind and crouch down, your grip hard on its tie. Your Skimwing jumps and unfolds its wings and you laugh breathlessly as you let the wind kiss your skin, its rustle cheering you on as you soar through the sky.

But it is time for you to return. As you come back, you immediately miss the ocean and the wind. After this, no more, you promised yourself, No more.

The bonding with the Tulkun soon followed after. Everyone went to the sides of their respective spiritual brother and sister and they all look so excited. Everyone was filled to the brim with joy but you, your nerves leave you trembling slightly.

Greetings, sister, you signed with a small smile hoping she would forgive you for only coming to see her today and not as soon as they arrived.

How dare you come at me only now? Is this what you see of me, just a way for you to complete your Iknimaya? Well, you are wrong! I will not bend over to your wishes so easily! she moaned in annoyance at you and sways you off gently.

You don’t think she could even bend but you just hugged her and buried your face against her beautiful skin that you would fawn at each time but you wouldn’t bring yourself to now. I’m sorry, sister. You don’t have to make Tsaheylu for me, I understand.

She pauses and was silent for a while.

…What pains you so, sister? Who dares to give you such pain? she hums at you, covering you with one of her fins and lets you hide. Tears escape your eyes and you sob silently underwater. Fear comes back and it overflows your lungs and shame burns your body hot despite the coolness of the water.

Lend me your suffering and let me suffer with you. Let me see you, sister. You look at her in shock and disbelief. Despite that you have wronged her, she still wants to see you.

She wants to see you. She wants to see your pain. She wants to see your fear. She wants to see your shame. Do you dare to let someone know of your sins? Your immoral thoughts and greed?

You look at your sister with only you in her eyes and she blinks softly at you.

You find yourself letting her see you.

She opens her mouth and you enter inside. Her queue comes down almost immediately and you almost laugh at how she truly wants to bond with you, even if it happened in an unfortunate circumstance you caused. You take your own and hold the end part of it, letting its tendrils connect to her glowing golden queue.

You close your eyes and your sisters’ memories rush through you. Her birth, her parents, her family, you see it. The joyous moments that contain you beside her, you see it. One particular moment was when you swam through the deep ocean and talked about the most mundane thing with her, lasting for even hours until you two have to breathe the surface’s air again. Her huntings as they travel outside your clan, you see it. Her first hunt without you and how she felt lonely without you by her side to congratulate you.

Now, you see her current emotions as she sees you. She’s distraught. Sad. In pain. But she is with you and your heart (or whatever is left of it) warms.

Oh, my sister, she whines and sobs. Her body vibrates and you feel yourself crying with you as well. My poor sister. You don’t deserve any of this. You don’t deserve this.

You think of the ocean and the wind once more, breaking your promise to yourself for the millionth time. The wind guides the ocean and wherever the ocean goes, the wind is there. The two cannot exist without the other for only together, they create the most beautiful peaceful calmness or the strongest violent storm.

Today, you have seen how great they are. And how well they suit each other. How Ronal’s grace matches Tonowari’s pride. How Tonowari’s imposing presence matches Ronal’s elegant strides.

Today, you have seen what great Olo’eyktan and Tsahik will become. You have seen how far they are out of your reach and what your place will be for the years that will come by.

For between the two, there leaves none for you.

series-taglist: (tags in blue means tumblr won't let me mention you, please let me know if you changed usernames!) @totesnothere04 @ducks118 @narutoboi @yeosxxx @fanboyluvr @ladylovegood-69 @northsoulss @thatfictionalwh0re @ghostlyworld @toodaloo432 @lovefromjazzy @greendino7 @neteyamforlife @vermilionzombie @vxncxntt @adaiasafira @tsuteysyawntu @mooniequeen @eywas-heir

#blue writes! ✧˖*°࿐#avatar #avatar angst #avatar the way of water #avatar x reader #ronal x you #ronal x reader #tonowari x reader #tonowari x you #atwow #atwow angst #avatar 2

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twistiraki · 1 year ago

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Headcanons 🎀 how they got Jealous when someone else flirt with you

🌹 Riddle Rosehearts

When Riddle notices another man trying to get Y/n's attention, his expression darkens immediately. He's not one to openly display his emotions, but the jealousy boils within him. He tries to keep his composure, but his grip on any nearby object tightens considerably.

He steps closer to Y/n, subtly positioning himself between them and the other guy. His protective instincts kick in, and he tries to be a bit intimidating without being too obvious. He won't say anything directly aggressive, but his icy tone and narrowed eyes are a clear warning to the intruder.

"My Teacup, is there a problem here?" Riddle's voice is calm but laced with a hint of warning. He'll subtly emphasize the "my" in "my Teacup" to make it clear that Y/n is not available.

❤️ Ace Trappola

Ace is loud and isn't shy to let people know Y/n is his partner. He's used to being the center of attention, and the thought of someone else trying to steal Y/n away drives him crazy.

He acts dramatically, wrapping his arms around Y/n and pretending to be overly affectionate, just to prove a point. He'll pepper Y/n with compliments and kisses, trying to outshine the other guy.

"Oh, you're trying to charm my sweetheart? Sorry, but you'll never be able to top this Ace of mine!" Ace declares boisterously, making sure everyone around knows he's with Y/n.

♠️ Deuce Spade

Deuce struggles to control himself. He wants to let everyone see that he is not the person he used to be, but this clashes with his overwhelming feelings.

He becomes visibly flustered and awkward when he sees another guy trying to approach Y/n. But when his emotions run high, his delinquent personality slips out. He might scowl or adopt a more aggressive stance, trying to intimidate the intruder with the fierce protectiveness he feels towards Y/n.

"You better watch yourself, pal. Y/n means a lot to me, and I won't let anyone mess with that," Deuce says with a determined glint in his eye, showing he isnt going to back down.

♣️ Trey Clover

Trey's jealousy is subtle but present. He's not one to make a big fuss, but he can't help feeling a tinge of protectiveness over Y/n.

He'll keep an eye on the situation from a distance, observing how Y/n handles the situation. If he senses any discomfort, he'll step in to lend a helping hand, but he won't overstep boundaries. He knows that Y/n can handle themselves, but he's always there to back them up if needed.

"You know, I'm just a text away if you need a quick escape from this charmer," Trey says, reminding Y/n that he's there to support them without being too intrusive.

♦️ Cater Diamond

Cater's jealousy is more playful than possessive. He's not one to get overly serious, but he can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when someone else flirts with Y/n.

He tries to lighten the mood with humor, making jokes and teasing Y/n about the situation. He'll casually throw his arm around their shoulder, claiming them in a lighthearted manner.

"Careful there, buddy, Y/n is my partner. And Y/n. you don't need this guy when you have Cay-Cay around. Let's get out of here and have some real fun!" Cater says with a cheeky grin.

🦁 Leona Kingscholar

Leona is fierce when it comes to you. He glares daggers at the man, his competitive nature kicking in. He doesn't like the idea of someone else trying to snatch away what he considers his territory.

He wraps his arm around Y/n possessively and pulls them closer, showing everyone that Y/n is already taken. He might even throw in a few smirks or provocative comments, just to show off.

"Sorry, buddy. Y/n's got better plans for the night than going home with you." Leona's voice is filled with confidence and a touch of arrogance, clearly asserting his claim over Y/n.

🍩 Ruggie Bucchi

When Ruggie sees the other guy trying to get Y/n's attention, he can't help but seize the opportunity for some mischief. His mischievous grin widens as he hatches a plan to turn the situation in his favor.

He'll casually wrap an arm around Y/n and flash them a mischievous grin, letting the other guy know they don't stand a chance. But deep down, he just wants to be seen as the one Y/n chose.

"Hey, hey! You think you can impress Y/n with some lame lines? Watch and learn, buddy!" Ruggie says with a half-smirk, half-serious expression

🐺 Jack Howl

Jack's jealousy is a mix of annoyance and protectiveness. He's not the type to openly express his emotions, but his territorial nature shines through in subtle ways.

He'll casually position himself between Y/n and the other guy, as if unintentionally blocking their path. His eyes stay locked on the intruder, an icy edge to his gaze.

"If you're looking for company, you should try somewhere else. Y/n and I are perfectly fine on our own," Jack says in a stern tone, making the message clear.

🐙 Azul Ashengrotto

Azul might try to play it cool, but inside, he's boiling with jealousy. He maintains his charming smile, but his eyes have a cold edge to them as he observes the man approaching Y/n.

He'll casually step closer to Y/n, slipping an arm around their waist, and making sure to drop hints about their relationship through clever remarks and innuendos.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did you think Y/n was available? How cute. But you're wasting your time, my dear." Azul's words might be sugar-coated, but the underlying message is crystal clear.

🍄 Jade Leech

Jade appears to be the epitome of politeness and formality, his soft-spoken nature creating an aura of courtesy around him. But beneath that charming exterior lies the mind of a predator.

He'll put on a polite smile and engage in friendly conversation with the intruder, all while subtly working to undermine their efforts. He knows how to play his cards right. He is friendly till he has them backed up into a corner,

"Oh, I happened to come across some interesting information about you. It would be a shame if it were to get out, wouldn't it? I advise you to stay away from Y/n." Jade says calmly, his smile never faltering.

👟 Floyd Leech

Floyd's jealousy is unpredictable, just like himself. He might come across as laid back, but when it comes to Y/n, he can go from uninterested to fully engaged in the blink of an eye.

He might lean casually against a nearby surface, seemingly relaxed. But his eyes stay fixed on the intruder, daring them to make a wrong move.His demeanor shifts drastically, and the lazy drawl turns into an unsettling low growl, giving off an aura of danger. Anyone who dares approach Y/n with romantic intentions while Floyd is around is met with a chilling warning.

"I suggest you back off real quick, partner. Shrimpy's is mine, and trust me, you don't want to mess with that," Floyd says, his words dripping with a mix of irritation and possessiveness, making it clear that he won't tolerate any interference.

🦦 Kalim Al-Asim

Kalim's jealousy is more endearing than intimidating. He's not used to feeling this way, but he can't help but feel a little possessive over Y/n.

He tries to lighten the mood, but his smile is strained. He'll pull Y/n into a warm hug, trying to show that they're already spoken for.

"Haha, you're funny, trying to charm my special person. But Y/n is with me tonight!" Kalim's smile might waver with uncertainty, but his determination to protect Y/n shines through.

🐍 Jamil Viper

Y/n’s is Jamil's pride and he doesn't intend to give that up. He's not one to get openly confrontational, but he'll make sure to assert his claim over Y/n in a subtle yet assertive way.

He'll take Y/n's hand in his own, holding it with a gentle grip to silently communicate that they are together.

"Apologies, but Y/n and I have plans for the evening," Jamil says, his voice smooth and polite but with an undercurrent of possessiveness that sends a clear message.

🪞 Vil Schoenheit

When Vil sees someone trying to approach Y/n while they're together, he doesn't hesitate to step in. He knows his own beauty can be captivating, and he uses it to his advantage to assert his claim over Y/n. With a graceful demeanor, he stands tall and elegant, looking down at the other person as if they're beneath him.

He steps forward gracefully, making his presence clear. He might not confront the man directly, but he'll make sure his presence alone sends a clear message that Y/n is already under his protection.If the intruder persists, Vil might give a more forceful response. He'll firmly remind the person that Y/n's is his partner, and he won't tolerate any interference.

"I must say, I appreciate your courage, but you're wasting your efforts. Y/n is already taken, and their heart belongs to none other than myself." Vil says with a hint of authority, his tone unwavering.

🏹 Rook Hunt

Rook is drawn to beauty like a moth to a flame. And love is beauty. So when he sees someone trying to vie for Y/n's attention, his curiosity piques, and he finds it hard to resist getting involved.

Like a hunter stalking his prey, he'll watch the interaction with a mix of curiosity and amusement. He doesn't feel threatened by others trying to woo Y/n, as he trusts in the genuine connection they share. He might even use the opportunity to strike up a conversation with the person flirting with Y/n, finding their interactions to be amusing.

"Oh là là, another contender for Mon Poème Vivant’s heart? How delightful! Let's see if you can impress them as much as I do," Rook teases, eyeing him like a new prey.

🍎 Epel Felmier

Epel struggles to hide his irritation, and his usually soft-spoken voice might slip into a rougher tone as he tries to assert himself. He won't tolerate anyone undermining his connection with Y/n.

When the situation gets more intense, Epel might struggle to control his temper and find himself engaging in a more direct confrontation. If anyone tries to tease him in a taunting manner, his annoyance amplifies, and he might lash out with a sharp retort.

"Hey, I said step back! Don't make me show you how serious I am!" Y/n is mine, and I won't let anyone get in the way of that," Epel says with a hint of aggression, his eyes narrowing in annoyance.

💀 Idia Shroud

When Idia notices another man approaching Y/n, his mind immediately jumps to negative assumptions. He becomes anxious, thinking they might be more charming or attractive than he is, which adds to his insecurities. His shyness and withdrawal intensify when he feels jealous. He may step back a bit, feeling like he can't compete with the other guy's social skills.

He might try to distract himself by pretending not to care. He withdraws slightly, avoiding eye contact and fidgeting with his phone or his tablet. But his eyes keep darting towards Y/n, unable to ignore the situation.

"If that guy bothers you, just tell me, and I'll... handle it," Idia mutters, looking down at the floor, his fingers fidgeting with his hoodie strings.

🤖Ortho Shroud

He'll be quick to notice any flirtatious advances towards Y/n and won't hesitate to intervene. With a mischievous grin, he'll subtly steer the conversation towards how amazing his brother Idia is.

He's observant, picking up on any slight changes in Y/n's mood. If he senses any discomfort or unease, he'll subtly draw Y/n away from the situation, offering them a way out.

"You know, my Brother Idia is not only incredibly talented but also caring and kind. Y/n is lucky to have someone like him," Ortho says with a glint in his eye, using the opportunity to showcase Idia's positive traits.

🐉Malleus Draconia

When Malleus witnesses someone approaching Y/n, he immediately becomes more attentive. His presence alone is imposing, causing people to think twice before approaching. But if someone thinks they got a chance, his normally calm demeanor doesn't waver, but a subtle tension becomes evident in his posture. He keeps a close eye on the situation, silently assessing the intruder.

As the other man tries to charm Y/n, Malleus can't help but feel a twinge of insecurity, wondering if he is enough to keep Y/n interested. His desire for a future with Y/n fuels the fear of being rejected.If the intruder persists, Malleus's protectiveness kicks in, and he might step closer to Y/n, positioning himself as a shield. He would fiercely defend what he holds dear.

"I trust my partner knows their boundaries and has made their decision," Malleus says, his voice steady but holding a hint of possessiveness. He doesn't want to pressure Y/n but also wants the other man to understand where they stand.

🦇Lilia Vanrouge

When Lilia notices another man trying to get Y/n's attention, he remains easygoing on the surface, but there's a subtle shift in his demeanor. He becomes more attentive, keenly observing the situation.

He'll approach the situation with a charming smile, acting as if he's not bothered by the other guy's attempts. However, his playful teasing takes on a slightly possessive tone.

"Ohoho, it seems someone is trying to make you blush, my dear Y/n. Just remember, if they step out of line, you have my permission to put them in their place," Lilia says with a wink, making sure Y/n knows he's got their back.

💤Silver

Silver's jealousy is a mix of protectiveness and determination. He might come across as aloof, but he won't let anyone else get in the way of what he values.

He'll stand close to Y/n, his arms crossed, and his expression stoic. He won't say much, but his mere presence is enough to convey a warning to the intruder.

"Y/n's not interested. You should leave," Silver says curtly, not bothering to hide his annoyance at the situation.

⚡Sebek Zigvolt

Sebek's jealousy is as loud as his personality. When he feels jealous, he can't contain his emotions, voice becomes even more prominent. He'll stand tall and puff out his chest, trying to appear even more imposing. His pride makes him want to prove that he's the best choice for Y/n.

Sebek doesn't hold back when it comes to expressing his discomfort with others approaching Y/n while they are together. He'll openly voice his disapproval with his booming voice, making sure everyone in the vicinity is aware that Y/n is his partner.

"Human,What do you think you're doing? You better stay away from Y/n! They've got better things to do than deal with the likes of you," Sebek declares, not mincing his words.

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samgirl98 · 22 days ago

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Mending a Family 46/?

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Talia oversteps her place but still tries; Jason has no idea how to feel about his mom

Talia sipped her tea as Jason stared at her. He still had no idea why she was here.

Thankfully, Danny was at school when Talia appeared on their doorstep. Jason couldn’t help but feel tense when he saw her. Jazz had taken over and made a pot of tea so that mother and son could drink something relaxing while they stared each other down. Jason took a few sips of tea before the silence got to him.

“Why are you here, Talia?”

Talia raised a manicured eyebrow, “A mother can’t visit her child?”

“You always want something, so I ask again: why are you here?”

Talia sighed and put her cup of tea down. Jason was too paranoid for his own good—a trait he had picked up from his father.

“I do want to spend time with you, Jason,” Jason snorted in disbelief, making Talia frown, “I’m worried about you.”

“And why, pray tell, are you suddenly worried about me? I’ve been answering your texts and calling you once a week.”

Talia tapped her nails against the table, unsure how to ask the following question without Jason getting angry. She sighed. Talia might as well get it over with.

“I heard a little bird came to visit you. Does that mean you’re ready to return to your father and his family?”

“You’re spying on me?” Jason asked. He got up suddenly, making the chair fall behind him; his eyes were glowing green.

Talia shrugged, “I ensure my children are fine, even if they don’t like it.”

Jason was fuming. How dare she? How dare she? This was one of the reasons he didn’t want to contact Bruce; he wanted to live his life with his family without fear of being watched and judged. Unfortunately, Talia was doing precisely what Bruce would’ve done.

“You’re gonna call off your spies, or I’m going to leave and disappear so thoroughly you’ll never catch wind of me or my family again,” Jason threatened in a low voice.

“Do not threaten your mother, Jason.”

Jason’s fist hit the table, making the teacups rattle.

“Call off your guard dogs!”

Talia stared at Jason, trying to get a read of her eldest. His eyes were glowing, and there was a manic look behind them. The tea in the cups was boiling, and Jason’s hair was smoking. She knew her son wasn’t playing around, and while she didn’t doubt her ability to find him, she didn’t want him running from her the same way he was running from Bruce.

She nodded, “Fine, it pains me not to know how you and your family are doing, but since you do not like it, I will call off my people.”

Jason glared at her, trying to find out if she was lying. He didn’t feel any untruth in her words, so he nodded and sat back down.

“You shouldn’t have done it in the first place, T. I’m not one of your soldiers to be spied on. If there’s something I want to tell you, I will; if not, you suck it up and get used to not knowing every little detail of my life like every other parent out there with grown-ass children.”

Talia’s mouth twitched, the only emotion she showed.

“I apologize, habibi, for overstepping my boundaries. I will endeavor not to do so again.”

“Whatever,” Jason grumbled.

“How is Daniel?”

“Like if you don’t know already.”

Talia sighed and took a sip of tea. She frowned at the bitter taste. The leaves had burned.

“I apologize once more, habibi.”

Jason took a deep breath, “Danny’s fine. He’s about to finish the school year. There’s an end-of-the-school-year festival that he’s excited about. He will pass the grade with the highest score in his class.”

“Daniel is a smart boy. His potential is limitless.”

Jason tensed. It almost felt like Talia was talking about a potential warrior rather than a grandmother praising her grandson.

“Relax, Jason, you do not wish to bring Daniel into the League’s world. I understand and, as his father, respect your wishes. I am merely stating a fact. His potential is limitless.

Jason slowly relaxed. Talia could lie with the best of them, but she hadn’t technically lied to Jason directly.

“There is another reason I came here.”

And Jason was tensing again.

“Habibi,” she admonished, “stop thinking the worst of me. I only wish to give you and your family a trinket.”

“It isn’t a weapon, right,” he asked warily, the kris in the safe mocking him.

“No, I understood your message the first time loud and clear. I merely wish to give you and your family jewelry.”

Talia took out a beautiful wooden box Jason was sure was an antique. She opened it, and in the box were two necklaces and two bracelets. One necklace was on a thick, long chain. The other was a thin, delicate one that was more like a choker than a necklace. The bracelets were small, clearly for a child’s wrist.

What truly caught Jason’s attention were the round, shining green pendants on each piece—the color of the Al Ghul family.

“Talia, what is this?”

Talia touched her necklace with a similar pendant on it.

“If you don’t want to accept it, I understand. These pieces will undoubtedly tie you to the Al Ghul’s—to me. However, I couldn’t not ask, at least. I wish to make you my son in more ways than just a statement. I want to adopt you into my family. Make you one of my heirs.”

Jason opened his mouth to protest.

“Not as an heir to the Demon’s head or for the League, but as my heir. As an heir to my businesses, my money, mine. Not to my father’s kingdom and goods,” she hit her chest, “but to mine. You are my son, and I wish to make it legitimate. I know you are hiding from your father, so I can’t do it through other means except the League’s way.”

“I wish for your family also to be my family. I wish to have Daniel as a grandson. I wish Jasmine to be a member of my family, and hopefully, in the future, I wish to form bonds with her so that she may one day be my daughter.”

“Of course, this is all up to you and them. I know you consider me a mother, but even if you don’t want to make it official, I will not stop considering you my son.”

Jason picked up the necklace he knew was made for him.

“You just admitted to spying on me. You want me as your possession, not as your son.”

Talia touched Jason’s cheek, “Habibi, I am not the best mother. I do not make cakes or kiss wounds to stop the hurting, but my children are my children, and I will always love them fiercely. You are not a possession. I worry about you like I worry about Damian, but I always do my best to respect my children’s wishes.”

Jason stared at the necklace.

“You are your own person, and whatever you decide to do, I will support or guide you however I can.”

Jason didn’t say anything and put the necklace around his neck. It didn’t feel like a nuke like he thought it would. Somehow, it felt warm. He knew Talia had her flaws, but she was trying, at least. Besides, it was nice to have one parent by his side.

“I can’t guarantee the others will want to become your family, but you can ask.”

“Thank you, habibi, for opening your family up for me.”

____

That night, Jason stared at the pendant. No one else had accepted Talia’s gifts, but the woman didn’t look mad or discouraged. She thanked them for listening to her and took the jewelry back with the promise that they would always be there.

A part of Jason was sad that his new family had rejected his mother, but he didn’t blame them. They barely knew Talia, and what little they had seen didn’t leave a good impression. Still, Jason was glad to have one parent back, at least.

He fell asleep feeling warm.

Talia is such a complicated character, but I love her. Sorry if you don't like this chapter because of her, but I just had to write it. Jason deserves at least one parent, dammit.

#mending a family #dc x dp #dp x dc

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