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beomie3 · 5 months ago

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night lounge - cbg

☆ summary: the nights spent at your favorite night lounge are everything you could ever need. until one night, you stumble upon a man that makes you rethink.

☆ wc: roughly 4k

☆ content: slow burn smut, beomgyu is a gentleman in a jazz band, light bondage (he uses his tie to fasten your wrists), light drinking, cursing, unprotected, lots of kissing :p, fluffy ending, he’s dominant in this <3

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your favorite late-night lounge lies hidden in the underground of a ritzy hotel amidst the city; candlelit and cozy, black silk sofas and a bar equipped with all the drinks for a perfect night.

it'd been your nighttime getaway ever since you discovered it accidentally one night. you haven't found a place quite as unique as it.

you just can't get over the smooth jazz band that plays in it's designated corner every saturday night at sundown when you arrive. the blend is perfect to the ear; smooth saxophone, soft drums, pretty piano, and sometimes a bassist who would join in at midnight and play well into 3 a.m. which is usually when you decide you're satisfied with your night and head home. which to be frank, it's hard to decide when to leave when it's your comfort place. it simply couldn't get better.

or so you thought.

you sat at the usual velvet barstool under the star-shaped chandelier, taking in the ambiance of the dreamy lounge as always. the subtle murmur of guests and clinks of glasses filling the room, dim with dainty light fixtures and flicker of candles in small glass jars at every table.

dried flowers, fairy lights, and classical paintings adorned the walls in such a beautiful way that made you feel nostalgic. like a museum in paris had been turned into a swanky hangout.

if you could describe the place in one word it would be; classy. no, elegant. no.. dreamy. there were just so many attributes to describe your favorite place, you couldn't begin to put your finger on one.

the peace you felt here while sipping red wine or a cocktail while listening to the smooth blend of instruments from the live ensemble was unmatched to any other place ever, like your own little neverland that you escaped to at nightfall.

the bartender you knew well had just placed a tall glass of chardonnay in front of you, setting tonight's mood as you relax under the liquid's musky yet enjoyable flavor.

cozying into the velvet seat, you shifted your attention back to the band, also paying mind to the people subtly beginning to fill the lounge as the night commenced; observing different groups of friends or couples who entered in intricate outfits, most faces familiar to you. admittedly, people watching was a pastime you fairly enjoyed.

but suddenly there appeared the face of a man you had yet to see, noticing his tall figure immediately as he came down the steps with a certain presence that radiated nothing but confidence and poise.

maybe it was the all-black suit he wore or the way his feathered ebony hair parted over his eyes in such a way that made you stare, following his every step into the warm glow of the lounge.

you wondered if he'd come here all along, or if he was simply a figment of your imagination after only two sips of your glass.

he's here for the same reason as you, it seems, as he briskly makes his way over to the bar.

noticing his approach you try your best to disregard him, acting as if you hadn't just watched his entire procession into the lounge.

"anyone sitting here, miss?" a sudden deep and breathy voice calls out from beside you, a dull pang at your stomach when you turn towards the man and realize how much more handsome he is up close. the way the dim light encapsulates his face, noticing the subtle gloss over his skin.

"you." you keep your wits about you, noticing the way the corner of his lip tugs upward when he nods toward you. swiftly taking the seat.

you turn and face the jazz ensemble again, tongue in cheek as you can feel his warmth beside you, trying your best to seem unfazed by his presence.

although your eyes are on the band, your ears are keen to his thick voice as he orders; a gin martini on the rocks and a side of lime, please. oh and put the jazz band on my tab while you're at it.

you nearly whip your head around at the sound of his request to put the jazz band on his tab. regardless, there were only four members but still...you were in shock and mostly intrigued. it isn't an act of kindness you'd usually hear at the bar.

the waiter gets to work on his drink and your eyes drift to him like a magnet drawn to metal; his mystery, you just wanted to freeze time and observe him.

once your eyes were on him you just couldn't resist the question that lingered on the tip of your tongue.

"do you know the jazz band?" you circle the rim of your glass with a finger, his chocolate eyes immediately boarding into yours along with all of his attention.

"i do. or else there wouldn't be one," his smile slowly grows as yours does, sipping his drink as it arrives. keeping his eyes on you all the while. he's only spoken two sentences to you but you swear there is something about his aura you just can't get enough of.

although he kept his response short and sweet, you put two and two together and concluded that he founded the band or something of the sort. either way, you just couldn't take your eyes off of him.

"well then today is my lucky day," you bring your glass to your lips and he lets out a deep chuckle, setting his glass down with a smirk at you. eyes still glued to his while he briefly looks away to set his glass down, you try taking him all in; the tiny freckle on his cheek, the silver ring in his earlobe, his long eyelashes. he was almost unreal.

"choi beomgyu," he holds a hand out to you, impressed with how much of a gentleman he's been in not even the five minutes you'd spoken to him. sad how low your expectations were after how many royal douchebags you'd come across at this bar.

you state your name in response, taking his warm hand and resisting the urge to smile too big when he slightly bows his head toward you, eyes never leaving yours as he gently shakes your hand.

that wasn't until he brought the back of your hand to his lips like a prince to a princess, that your heart nearly beat out of your chest; simply carried away by his charm. you’d never been greeted this way.

"i take it you enjoy my band," he slowly releases your hand. "rare to see someone just sit. listen. enjoy the music." he slightly reclines, bringing his glass back to his plump lips with those deep brown eyes on you.

"saturday nights are always my favorite." you nod, slightly reclining in your seat too, mimicking his body language.

"i know." his smile slightly grows behind the rim of his glass, wondering how the hell he knows if you'd never met him in your life.

"and how is it that you know that?" you slightly tilt your head, crossing your legs toward him and narrowing your eyes in await for a response.

"velvet chair at the end of the bar under the star-shaped chandelier. it's your seat. how could i not know where the most beautiful woman in this place sits?"

you're good at not showing how flustered you are; legs tightly crossed together, cheek caught in between your teeth, biting back the biggest damn smile.

"saturday nights are my favorite too," he looks over at the band and it isn't until he makes a bass-playing gesture with his fingers that the puzzle pieces click.

he's the bassist that comes on the stage when the lights go dark at midnight with only candles and fairy lights left to illuminate the room as people slow dance. you thought his silhouette might have looked familiar when he came down the stairs, considering that was all you ever knew of him.

he chuckles at your reaction to it finally clicking within you, truly appreciating your deep love for his performances, as no one usually cares much.

you and choi beomgyu continued chatting the night away, and he can see deep in your eyes that you're passionate about what you talk about. he loved finding out that the girl he always keeps his eye on when he's on stage secretly always admired him and his work.

when the bartender comes around with refills, beomgyu only orders water, finding it rather refreshing that a man can control himself and find satisfaction in only one drink as you usually do.

at midnight when the lights dim, beomgyu leads you hand in hand to the front row of the stage, getting to watch his performance front and center. he loves seeing you so close, usually having to deal with watching you from afar when you sat at the bar.

he performs dried flower, your favorite song preformed by the band. you watch his fingers caress the strings, long and dainty, pretty fingers. clad in expensive rings. wrist dangling with dainty charm bracelets. he has a certain class that is hard to find in men, and you feel yourself falling for him every passing second.

hes so passionate when he plays; eyebrows slightly furrowed as he instinctively plucks every note just perfectly. you’re also keen to every woman staring at him when his solo comes, whispering and giggling amongst one another. you grin.

after, he steps down and joins you in the crowd, asking for your hand and the two of you slow dance to the soft jazz, your head in his chest as he carefully steps with you. he smells of soft cashmere, and that’s the last thing you take note of before you’ve fallen completely head over heels.

the lights dim a bit more, his face barely lit by the candles but you can still see the sparkle in his eyes. his gaze is soft, yet intense and your heart stops as his face inches closer.

before you know it, your lips are touching what feels like velvet pillows; his lips. your heart races, blood rushing to your face and he pulls you closer, feeling his chest press against yours.

his sweet kiss lingers on your lips. you must have a sweet tooth, because you’re craving more.

“how about we get out of here?” his eyes are so intense on yours, realizing your fingers had interlaced into his long ago as you slow danced.

your eyes say it all; both of your body language says it all. you can practically feel your body heat radiating through your silk dress. cheeks flushed as he guides you through the crowd and out into the cool night air.

the taxi ride to his place is tense as you sit hip to hip, his fingers tracing your palm and you can’t seem to take your eyes off of one another. the taxi driver is the only thing keeping him from saying some not so appropriate things out loud, so instead he whispers them in your ear and you’re a giggling mess.

his high rise apartment is classy like him; low lighting and wooden accents, a baby grand piano in the corner under a chandelier, record player and a vinyl collection. an array of basses and guitars adorning the living room. it reminds you of the lounge, in fact; classical paintings and candles and dried flowers on the dining room table.

the tension only builds and builds, until it snaps.

he does so much as put a record on and offer you a glass of wine before your lips are on each other’s again. messy makeout, fingers intertwined in hair. his fingers precisely unbuttoning his suit before sliding under your silk dress.

the two of you stumble toward his king bed and you help him loosen his tie but he ushers your hand away, swiftly removing it from himself.

you fall backwards on his bed, feeling the silk sheets fluff up around you, cold against your boiling skin. he stands between your legs, pulling you toward the edge of the bed toward him with hands hooked underneath your thighs.

“hands above your head,” his voice is husky, eyes dark as he towers over you. dark brown hair messy and fluffed over his forehead.

his demand makes you twice as soaked and you swear a puddle has formed between your legs. you do as he says, feeling the cold air waft against the sensitive skin of your under arms and you’re pelted with goosebumps.

“good girl,” his voice is low, eyes dark. his cock twitches in his pants as you had done what he said, leaning down to hold your hands in place. your eyes widen when he uses his black tie to begin tying your hands together above your head.

“is this okay?” he focuses intensely into your eyes as he makes several concise knots, his voice tender and genuine as you bite your lip. it’s more than okay.

“mhmm,” you moan into his lips as he kisses you, pressing his hips against your clothed heat, legs spread, wrapping around his torso.

you didn’t know what to expect from this choi beomgyu guy, but you could tell he was amazing in bed since the moment you met. he’s had you on edge, turned on since the moment he spoke. he really knows how to turn you the fuck on.

you’re completely out of control now, your wrists fastened tightly together by his tie but you love the feeling more than you ever expected.

he starts slow but increasingly gets more feral. starting by kissing your neck softly, he slips your silk dress off and blood rushes straight to his dick.

you’re wearing a lace bra, extremely see through so that he can see that your nipples are hard and poking out him. but what makes him nearly salivate; you’re not wearing any underwear.

well, you were wearing underwear earlier tonight at first arriving to the lounge, but you’d taken them off somewhere along the night.

“check your pocket,” you eyed the front pocket of his suit jacket and when he stuck his hand in it to discover a pair of lacy underwear, his tongue darts to wet his lips. he fought the urge to absolutely fuck the shit out of you right here right now.

“such a sneaky girl, hm?” he cocks his head to the side, the hint of a sly grin on his lips as he slides his suit jacket off, leaving him only his white button up shirt, yet it’s unbuttoned so that you can see his bare chest and torso peeking through. he pushes the sleeves up and runs his fingers through his feathered hair to expose his forehead briefly. he’s so unbelievably sexy.

his hands are a bit rougher on you now, gripping the fat of your hips as he tongue kisses you, so messy and wet and hot. trailing his lips all over your chest, he bites your nipples softly through the lace and it feels so fucking good. he makes a mess of his spit, kissing your body until his reaches your bare pussy, already drenched for him.

“already so fucking wet and i haven’t even done anything,” he groans at the sight of your wetness dribbling out and onto his sheets. he really can’t believe his eyes at how soaked you are, can’t stop thinking of how good you’re going to feel when he fucks you.

his lips are level with your lower ones and he stares up at you through fluffed bangs over his thick brows. you anticipate what his tongue will feel like inside of you, shuddering when his hot breath wafts against you. you’re so sensitive.

he supports your thighs with his hands, setting each of your feet to rest on the tops of his shoulders. you’re spread wide open for him so that he has the best view of your entirety.

he hasn’t even fucking done anything and you moan out, a deep chuckle rumbling in his throat. just the air exuded from his nose when he breathes brushes against your clit and stimulates it.

his tongue finally traces over your bud and you whip your head back onto his memory foam mattress. you can’t do this; no, there’s far too much pleasure. you’d never been this sensitive with anyone in your life. you'd never been this turned on by anything.

when his lips attach to your clit and suck, your hands shoot into his soft hair, grabbing handfuls of it as you whimper loudly; slurping sounds and moans echoing throughout his bedroom. your sounds egg him on; cock twitching violently in his pants with every single one of your sweet sounds.

when he inserts two long fingers into you and curls them up to your g-spot, it’s over for you. it only takes about four strokes of his fingers until you’re spasming, fluttering intensely around his fingers and grinding yourself into his face. his moans vibrate against you. no one had ever made you finish this fast.

“god beomgyu you’re- so fucking good-,” you huff out of breath between words, heavy head thrown back, chest heaving. his ego is stroked yet again.

the recovery from your orgasm is fast as he is quick to kiss you, need prevalent in his veins as you feel fire in him with the way his lips devour yours.

you clench around nothing, squeezing his arms tightly as nervous shudders course through your veins. you need him.

“choi beomgyu,” you whisper against his lips and his hungry eyes board into yours, lips puffy and glossy; he’s looks way too hot right now. you lean up to whisper in his ear.

“fuck me,” your voice is quiet, desperate. hot breath seeping down his neck. he is done for. he's kept his composure this long. but there is always a point where he absolutely loses it.

he can’t wait any longer, swiftly unbuckling his belt and dropping his perfectly ironed black trousers down to his knees along with his boxers.

when his cock springs out, it slaps up against his abdomen with a heavy thud and your eyes widen. he’s got a big fucking dick. your throat bobs as you swallow down a bundle of nerves.

“holy shit,” you say under your breath but he hears you; dark smirk spreading across his lips. he looks down at himself, spreading the ooze of precum around his tip; a darkened pink shade with all of the blood flowing up to it.

since the moment you saw him walk through the door at the lounge tonight, you’ve wanted to fuck him. but the moment he saw you for the first time; oh he’s been wanting to fuck you for months.

"what was that darling?" he leans down to look into your eyes, tender touch against your cheek as he snakes a hand around your thigh and pulls it up so that your knee is up against your chest.

"hm?" his lips are inches away from yours, eyes dark and flicking down to your lips and back up into your eyes repeatedly. he throws your leg over his shoulder.

your heart strums against your ribs as you're anxious to take him, yet you can't wait.

"you can take me, right gorgeous?" he tilts his head and you can't process how beautiful he looks right now; soft, chandelier lights of his bedroom reflect from his big, brown doe-shaped eyes. your mauve lipstick smeared across his lips and chin. hair tousled back, revealing his perfect eyebrows and forehead. the sheen of sweat glimmering from his skin.

"i can take you," a small grin is on your lips as you fiddle with the end of his tie around your wrists, realizing that having your hands tied above your head has made you way more sensitive than normal.

looking down at the space in between the two of you, he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your folds, causing you to shudder. he places small kisses to your knee, as it's resting by his cheek.

you suck air through your teeth when you feel a slight stretch as he guides himself into you, going slow enough to get you adjusted to his tip. you keep your eyes locked as he slides the rest in little by little, moans growing louder as the stretch intensifies. looking down, you realize he's only half-way in and you look up at him, lip caught between his teeth.

the stretch is so intense, but not as intense as his eyes on yours, searching deep into your soul. his hands come up to fiddle with the knot of his tie around your hands, suddenly feeling it loosen and your hands are free. immediately, they fly into his hair, thumbs soft over the sides of his face. he untied them for this exact reason; to feel your intoxicating touch all over him.

suddenly, you feel his hips meet the back of your thigh, and that's when you know he's all the way in. your mouth is agape as he slowly begins moving in an out of you, crashing your lips back to his as the skin of his thighs begins to slap against yours.

his hands are busy on you; one palming your tits as the other hooked under your thigh to keep your leg situated atop his shoulder.

taking him raw feels so wrong but so right; the edge of his tip feels fantastic against your g-spot, thick veins massaging you just right. your arousal leaves a milky white ring around the base of his cock as he slams into you. he collects some, bringing it to your mouth, followed by crashing his lips to yours again so that you can both taste it together.

“you feel so fucking amazing,” he breaks the kiss to speak to you, followed by a moan as he slams as deep as he can into you. you’ve ajusted well at the is point that the pain has turned into pleasure. his soft whimpers in your ear were enough to make you even wetter, easing the process of being stretched out.

he shuts his eyes as you’re sucking him i’m so perfectly, so turned on by the squelch of your pussy every time he enters you. he fights back the urge to cum, but it’s so hard with how beautiful you look right now.

your face is contorted in pleasure, hair sprawled out all over his bed, shimmery sheen on your skin from a mixture of sweat, tits bouncing with every slam of his hips.

“god you’re taking it so well,” he groans against your neck, lifting your other thigh so that both of your legs are swung over his shoulders. he’s impressed by your flexibility as his chest is pressed against yours, realizing just how far he is leaned down against you.

his hips are rhythmic against yours, grinding himself into you, a good tactic to stimulate your clit with this pelvis. it’s like he’s a professional.

his name along with a mixture of curses leave your lips in drawn out moans as your nails dig into his back, the sound of his name nearly drives him insane and he fucks you harder.

you feel the familiar ache in your core with every thrust, and he already knows you’re close because of how much tighter you’ve become around him.

he’s a moaning mess, deep voice like honey in your ear as you suck him in even tighter now. he reaches down to thumb at your clit and you’re right there, right on the edge.

“harder beomgyu, fuck me harder!” you bite down on his shoulder, his hips slamming at a pace so fast that his bed is creaking so loud. your moans probably audible from outside his apartment at this point.

“you gonna cum for me? yeah? cum all over my cock sweetheart c’mon,” his voice is loud yet deep and husky. his eyebrows are furrowed together in pleasure, sweat dripping from his neck and onto your chest.

the slapping of skin is so loud now, and he gives you three precise thrusts before you completely combust.

your sporadic moans are not what tells him you’ve just finished, it’s the absolutely insane convulsions that he feels inside you, fluttering around him at what feels like 200 miles per hour.

it’s enough to push him right over the edge in an ínstense orgasm. he pulls out immediately, busting all over your tummy and angling it to get some on your chest and face. milky white all over you, and there’s a lot too.

he’s so god damn vocal as he cums, his head thrown back so that you can see his addams apple in full glory, bobbing up and down as he moans.

you wipe your chin of his cum and lick your fingers clean, addicted to his salty-sweet taste.

he looks so exhausted as his chest heaves, hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. but he doesn’t lay down on the bed just yet; instead he walks to his bathroom, getting a towel to clean you up first like the gentleman he is.

he wipes his fluids off of you with a warm wash rag, tender eyes on your skin as he softly cleanses you. there is a soft quietness about the room, not awkward, soothing actually.

he helps you under his silk sheets once you’re all cleaned up and he snuggles under with you, propping his head up on his hand as he rubs small circles on your shoulder.

“i look forward to seeing you at every show,” his voice is soft, a tender smile on his lips. you love how calm he is, how respectful, how tranquil. almost like he’s healing something deep within you.

“always,” you smile in return. you talked about anything and everything, in love with the way his eyes were attentive to you, keen to every single thing you had to say.

finding his hand under the sheets, you fiddle with his fingers, imagining all the things the future has in store for the two of you. you just knew this was the start of something special.

you hear the record player in his living room echoing with your favorite song, dried flower.

“can i have this dance?” he squeezes your hand under the sheets, smiling. and although you’re both tired, you each slip on a robe and walk hand in hand to his candle-lit living room.

it feels like you’re meant to do this with him, like you’ve done it together before in a past life.

you thought nights at your favorite lounge were everything you could ever need. but that wasn’t true. because tonight, meeting the love of your life proved you wrong in every single way.

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note: here is a gyu fic!! tysm for continuing to support my works while i've been gone. i'm currently vising japan and i've been here for a few months :) i'm happy to announce i'm working on a tokyo part 3 for those who enjoyed tokyo and the sequel!!! i plan on releasing more fics in the mean time. i hope you enjoyed this one<3

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ofourlee · 5 months ago

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satoru x reader

you have never gone out without a full face of makeup on. even with your lover, you always wear beauty products. you say to yourself, "i can't let my boyfriend have an ugly girlfriend"

so, whether you're at his apartment, outside, or on a date, you're constantly wearing makeup. not till…

your boyfriend, satoru, offered for you to sleep at his place. a sleepover, with your boyfriend. he figured that since you're both free for tomorrow, it'd be nice for you to stay over. and you being you, you couldn't refuse such an offer.

it's 9:30 p.m., and you are seated on your vanity. yes, satoru has a vanity for you in his own home incase you come over. he is well prepared.

so you're sitting on your own vanity, removing your makeup as he rests on the bed. little did you know, he had been watching you the entire time.

satoru's lips curled into a sweet grin as he watched you take off your makeup. "she's beautiful with or without it," he thinks. however, seeing your natural face causes his heart to constrict.

he continues to observe you, his gaze following every line and feature, taking in your inherent beauty.

he admires the way the moonlight dances over your skin, creating beautiful shadows and highlights on your face. he notices the curvature of your jawline, the slope of your nose, and the fullness of your lips.

very detail is seared in his mind, a snapshot of you that he is certain he will never forget.

he watches you, a mixture of adoration and affection welling up within him. he feels honored to be able to see you like this, because you usually refuse to show him your bare face when he asks.

you appeared so vulnerable and unguarded. it's a part of you that hardly everyone sees, and he's humbled and glad that you trust him enough to share it with him.

he had a lot on his mind. he is captivated to your innate beauty. the absence of makeup shows your features even more prominently than before.

he fights against the urge to reach out and touch you, not wanting to disturb you as you finish removing the remainder of your makeup.

his glance sweeps across your face, taking in every subtle detail. the little blemishes, the small laugh lines, the natural blush of your cheeks all appear to contribute to your beauty in his opinion.

he can't help but feel a strong feeling of care and sensitivity as he watches you, falling in love repeatedly.

he wonders why you've always felt compelled to wear makeup around him. perhaps you were insecure, perhaps you were simply used to wearing it.

but now, without it, you appear to glow even more, and he can't help but believe that he is blessed to glimpse this side of you.

so, after a few seconds of silently eyeing you, he eventually talks. the sound of his voice bursts through the silence, and you startle slightly, your attention drawn to him. he smiles as you react, his words calm and soothing.

"you look beautiful without makeup."

he rises up and reaches out, his fingertips lightly stroking your cheek, almost reverently.

that sentence appears to fluster you, forcing you to glance away in embarrassment.

he chuckles softly at your reaction, his palm still resting against your cheek. he can see the blush rising up your neck and the way your gaze shifts away from his.

"now, why are you looking away? are you��embarrassed, baby?" he murmurs.

ugh, that damn nickname. it always appeared to weaken your knees, no matter what. and it doesn't help that he's calling you that when you're still recovering from his compliment.

he softly tilts your chin upwards, pushing you to meet his eyes. he grins at you, his eyes are warm and friendly. then he continues:

"don't be. there's no reason to be. you're stunning, with or without makeup. i think you look even more beautiful without it, actually."

"you are glowing."

"i love you so much"

"you're divine, i can't believe i have you all to myself."

"i have never seen a more beautiful woman."

"why were you so scared of showing your bare face to me?"

"you're so gorgeous"

"you have the prettiest eyes, but i like it when you wear contacts too"

"your beauty is so natural"

he pampers you with flattery. it makes you want to wrap yourself with a blanket. he leans closer, placing his forehead on yours.

he can feel the heat radiating from your skin and watch the fast rise and fall of your chest as your heart rate increases.

he looks at you, taking in your natural beauty. he has to acknowledge that there's something unmistakably seductive about you even without makeup - simply the essence of you.

your lips, glossed with strawberry lip oil, appear extremely inviting, and he has to fight the impulse to kiss you right there.

"I'm so lucky" he says.

his gaze sweeps over your face again, soaking in every detail. your cheeks have a little blush, your eyes sparkle and your eyelashes flutter softly when you stare at him.

"toru, don't stare so much. the more you look at me, the more ugly i become," you try to shoo him away.

he chuckles quietly, the sound deep and full in his chest. he shakes his head, smiling affectionately.

"you could never look ugly to me, baby. in fact, the more i look at you, the more beautiful you seem to get."

fuck, this man is gonna be the death of you. you can't take it anymore, the words are too endearing that you're so close to melting.

he moves in closer, his lips just brushing over your forehead, temple, and both cheeks. he gives you delicate kisses and pecks, punctuating each touch with a quiet murmur.

he continues, "you're a goddamn vision, you know? you're a beauty, and you're all mine."

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k3n-dyll · 5 months ago

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☆Strawberry Crush

Warnings...18+, wlw, loser!Ellie, fem!reader, a few reader descriptions based on the song (lipgloss, nails - nothing body/skin/hair-wise), Ellie is...kind of a stalker, honestly?, porn with a plot, submasc!Ellie, domfem!reader, Ellie is really eager and awkward, sloppy kisses, food play? (strawberry juice is involved), fingering (r!receiving), face sitting, sixty nine

Word Count:3.2k || MDNI Banner Creds. || Donations 4 Palestine

Notes ☆ Kinda hate this but I've had this damn song in my head for fucking weeks and I needed to write something about it (Spotify link in title).Should have done this when my theme was red but fuck it

Ellie's green eyes flit carelessly over the obviously bruised and beaten-up avocado in her hand, turning the bulbous fruit around over and over again as if she's truly considering buying the pitiful thing. There's a slight feeling of mushiness to it that kind of makes the hairs on her arms stand up - whatever poor fuck decides to pick this thing up once she puts it back in its crate is bound to find nothing but brown sludge on the inside.

Each turn of the overripened avocado is accompanied by a 'subtle' look around the market, her gaze fixing to the door each time the little rusted brown bell at the top of the doorframe jingles.

It'd be so embarrassing if she mixed up the time.

Not that this isn't humiliating enough already. Pathetic, even. No one in their right mind drives thirty minutes from home to look this hard, and for this long at an avocado.

On about the fifth bell ring in three minutes she can feel herself getting impatient. Today was Monday, Ellie was sure of that - the farmers from downtown had surely brought freshly picked batches of fruit and vegetables already unless something had gone awry. Maybe she should just head home and stop acting like a fucking crazy person. It's not like the average person keeps on schedule to a T every week. And even if they did, it's worrying that Ellie even knows that schedule. At least this part of it anyway.

Ellie juggles with the thought for a moment but ultimately decides to leave, placing the unfortunate-looking avocado back in its crate. It's just then when that annoying little bell dings again. She knows she shouldn't get her hopes up and yet she can't seem to help herself, looking toward the farmers market entrance to discern who it was that triggered the movement of the brass bell.

The thought that she was just about to leave makes Ellie's stomach turn. She'd have missed you completely. But just like clockwork, every Monday morning, you're here. And just like clockwork, every Monday morning, she gets to see you.

Ellie has given herself every excuse as to why her little habit isn't creepy. She's just trying to hype herself up to actually talk to you, and somehow during that time she also managed to figure out the exact schedule for when fresh produce is brought to this specific market so that she could catch you every Monday doing what you usually do. Buying strawberries.

You like those a lot.

Or, Ellie assumes you do. Why else would you buy them so religiously? Every Monday you come to buy strawberries. Various other things as well but she's noticed you take your time with the berries in particular - inspecting the fruit in each little green basket for at least a few minutes before finding one or two little baskets to buy and take home with you.

Ellie's practiced how to approach you in the mirror in her apartment before leaving the house more times than she'd like to admit, cringing at every little stutter and awkward phrase.

"You come here often?" No. Who the fuck even says that in real life? "So you like strawberries?" Well, duh.

It looks so simple in shows. Her friends make it look like nothing. Then there's Ellie. Reciting cliche lines from movies.

Not that any of that really matters though. Normally by the time you've gone up to check out your items, Ellie has already managed to convince herself that she lost her chance.

Maybe next time

Next time, for sure. But definitely not this time, no. This time she's too distracted by how delicious you look; the sway of your hips, the pretty smile you flash to the staff, the glittery pink tinted gloss spread carefully across your lips.

Your nails are red today, coming to a rounded point.

Ellie's tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip as her mind wanders. Those nails would make such pretty streaks in her back.

For some reason, the thought that she may be shamelessly staring at you doesn't cross her mind. Until it's too late that is. Ellie's eyes widen in absolute terror when your gaze catches hers, face dropping back to the crate of avocados she'd been pretending to look through a moment ago.

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

She definitely can't approach you today. Not after you'd caught her staring - no - gawking at you so blatantly. In fact, getting out of this godforsaken market has shot to the very top of her priority list, a task she seeks to accomplish quickly, with her head downcast in shame and embarrassment.

It's just her luck that instead of effectively making it out of the door she stumbles over the dragging, unraveled white laces of the run-down sneakers on her feet, toppling to the floor if not for the similarly misfortuned person she winds up tackling.

"Shit! Sorry, sorry, I-I'm so sorry" she stutters out, cringing at the sight of once unbruised red fruit hitting the hard tile of the market floor. Her eyes meet yours and again she's frozen and embarrassed, a deep shade of red splaying her freckled cheeks and tips of her ears. You would be angry if it weren't for how cute she looked. You sigh.

"It's fine, really. Just...make sure you look forward next time you're walking, okay?" The soft, reassuring smile you offer her as you speak damn near melts her where she stands.

"Right."

There's a beat of awkward silence, Ellie nervousely tugging at her ring and pinky fingers as she gives you a small hesitant nod. "I should-"

"Maybe you could help me pick out some new ones?" You ask quickly, interrupting her, gesturing to the strawberry littered tile.

It's the first time she's spoken to you and given her clear anxiety, she likely wouldn't end up speaking to you on her own again. Ellie nods quickly, mouth slightly agape, though at this point she's lost all of her words. She simply picks up the dropped berries, some of which are now a little flattened and soft on one side from the impact, standing straight once they're all gathered to help you get new baskets.

"You okay?" You ask, as Ellie hasn't said much of anything in the past few minutes.

"Oh, yeah...sorry just...a lot on my mind" she murmurs, quieting back down again as she attentively unpacks your produce.

She doesn't even know how she wriggled her way into this situation. She'd thought for sure you'd call her a freak or a psycho when you let her know you were aware of her little routine. Instead, you just suggested that she help you with the rest of your groceries.

"It's a bit of a hassle trying to bring them up to my apartment alone. Plus...you kinda owe me for the tackle, yeah?"

You had feared the boldness of your invitation may give her pause but Ellie agreed without reluctance.

"A lot on your mind? Like what?"

"Like...how you don't seem unnerved about...y'know." Ellie murmurs, leaning up against your kitchen counter, the little giggle you give in response sending her heart rate up.

"I was honestly just waiting to see if you would actually come speak to me"

"Wait, really?"

You turn to her from where you were organizing things in your fridge, a small bowl of freshly washed strawberries in hand. You set it down, gently sliding the bowl out toward Ellie as an invitation to take one, which she accepts, twisting at the leaves until they come off of the top before biting into it. It's quite large, and very sweet she notices, a bit of juice dribbling down her chin as her teeth sink in, her hand clumsily going to guard any more from falling down.

"Yeah." you answer, to which Ellie raises a questioning eyebrow.

"You're cute, Ellie." you clarify, playfully rolling your eyes at her obliviousness. " And messy"

Before she realizes it, you're in front of her, holding a napkin to her now berry juice-stained chin and neck, readying yourself to pat her dry. Your lips are incredibly close, dangerously so, but she does her best to ignore it, popping the rest of strawberry into her mouth before gently taking your hand in hers to stop you.

"I can- "

"Just let me, okay?" You chuckle a bit, shaking your head. "You really don't know when a girl is trying to flirt with you, huh?"

Ellie blinks, staring at you as if you've just said something ridiculous, her fruit filled cheek almost making her look like a chipmunk in the moment. The insistence on cleaning her up, the invitation to your apartment in the first place, the fact that you don't even seem to question her infatuation with you. It all makes sense now. And she'd taken way too long to notice.

There isn't a thought process behind Ellie's actions this time, just impulse as she leans forward, closing the distance between you both and crashing her lips onto yours. A shiver of shock runs through her as you reciprocate, regardless of how unideal the kiss may seem - cold, sticky fruit juice now being shared between the both of you, creating a thin coat of strawberry and saliva on your connected lips flowing down your chins and slowly making its way to the collars of your shirts.

Ellie pulls back enough to actually swallow what's left of the strawberry and breathe out a quick "I'm sorry", though a part of her is too fascinated by the look of you with transparent red fluid trailing along your skin to be genuinely apologetic.

"I don't mind a little mess." You whisper in response, swiping your thumb along her chin to collect some of the juic. Something about the girl being so desperate to kiss you that she was unconcerned about the inevitable messy nature of said kiss put butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You keep her pressed up against your kitchen counter as you allow yourself to give in to your desires, only dethatching your kiss-swollen lips from Ellie's to press opened mouth kisses along the column of her throat, licking at the sweet red liquid that's almost managed to make its way into the loose, black wifepleaser she's wearing.

"Y-you don't think this is happening too fast?" she questions, despite her clear willingness to let you do as you please, her words coming out between heavy breaths, her entire face painted a rosy shade of pink.

"Would you like me to stop?" You ask, eyebrow quirked upward as you halt your advances and look at her.

Ellie shakes her head immediately at that, tightening her grip around your waist. She can't help but think that was an idiotic question for her to ask anyways. This is finally her chance, and she refuses to fuck up by overthinking everything as she has been up until this point. Your lips connect again with no second guesses this time, Ellie taking her opportunity to slip her hands underneath your top, pulling it over your head. Her mouth takes to your skin, sloppily lapping at the strawberry juice flowing along your neck and pulling your bra straps down enough to expose your breasts.

"Fuck, Ellie"

You slip your leg between her thighs while she's occupied with "cleaning you up" with her tongue, reveling at the way she whimpers and attempts to resist the urge to roll her hips when your knee makes contact with her clothed cunt. Her attempts prove futile, of course, the poor girl huffing and moaning against your skin as she grinds herself against your leg.

"So fuckin' needy, weren't you?" You tease, unable to help the amused laugh that escapes you at the sight of the girl humping desperately at your knee.

All Ellie manages in response is a nod, whining even louder when you press against her harder, the seam of her shorts pushing up against her clit at the right angle, her movements becoming faster and more erratic.

"G'na make me cu- fuck fuck" Ellie's muscles tense for a moment before releasing again, short, ragged breaths and muffled grunts punctuating her last few thrusts against your leg as she finishes in her boxers. Embarrassed, she buries her face into the crook of your neck, her already blushed face becoming redder at her unintended quickness.

"Shit...sorry" She murmurs against your skin, not sure if she should even look you in the eye right now.

You stifle a giggle and shake your head, running your fingers through her soft, auburn hair as a means to reassure her before lacing your fingers with hers. With your free hand, you lift her chin so that she looks at you.

"It's okay. Doesn't mean I'm finished with you."

The softness of your tone seems to soothe her, though the bashfulness still lingers on her features, green eyes casting downward regardless of your words. You press a quick kiss to the tip of her nose, and, fingers still intertwined, lightly tug her away from the kitchen counter on her wobbly legs over to the loveseat in your living room.

You lightly jerk your head in the direction of the sofa, letting go of her hand once she's seated. "Lay down for me baby"

Ellie, in all of her eagerness doesn't so much as hesitate, laying back onto the soft cushions, reaching out as if to pull you down with her. Instead of straddling her like she'd wanted you to though, you stay standing, a mischvieous giggle escaping as you lean down to kiss her on the lips once more before pulling back.

"What's wrong?" She asks, her brows furrowed in confusion.

"Nothing El. Just relax, yeah?" You murmur in response, hands now focused on slipping off your shorts. That's answer enough for her, Ellie's eyes widening a little bit as they fixate on watching your lower body, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as you pull off your shorts and panties in one go. You were soaked, and you make sure to let her know it, teasingly trailing a finger through your folds before pressing it to her lips, Ellie gladly sucking the digit into her mouth without instruction.

"Aw, look at that, I didn't even have to ask"

Ellie just nods, pink lips still caught around your finger. She's well aware of how pathetic she looks right now, but she can't bring herself to care at this point as she's too busy savoring the taste of you on her tongue, eyes damn near rolling to the back of her head off that alone. When you take your finger out of her mouth she whines.

"Wanna taste you more... please"

Her pleading pulls a chuckle from your throat, your finger gently running across her bottom lip as you speak.

"God, you're so impatient, baby. Does my sweet girl want my pussy in her mouth, hm?"

She nods vigorously, grabbing at your hand again to pull you toward her. This time, you oblige, allowing the girl to guide you to sit on her face, her slender hands catching around your hips. She licks a bold stripe along your slit before pressing a kiss to your clit, the amount of times she's thought about doing that exact thing noe finally coming into practice.

Ellie eats at you like a woman starved, lapping up every drop of your arousal, her lips latching around your swollen clit and sucking at it. The sloppy, wet noises coming from her mouth on your cunt, the muffled moaning and whining escaping her - it's obnoxious. But it's the sexiest thing you've seen ina while, her gaze never leaving you as she buries herself closer to you. "This what you wanted, isn't it baby? Spent so much time watching me 'n all you could think about - fuck - was having that pretty mouth pressed up against my cunt like this?"

Your teasing is condescening, your hand tangling into her short locks, forcing her head nice and close as you rut yourself against her tongue. The poor thing can't stop herself from squirming, pressing her thighs together, and for a moment, even detatching a hand from your thigh and snaking it down her own body to slip her hand into her shorts. You don't notice it at first, but when you do, it's clear to her you aren't having it.

"Nuh-uh, none of that, pretty girl." You lift up into a hover above her head, reaching back and wrapping your hand around her wrist to stop her. She whines again, her frustration obvious in the line that forms between her brows. "You wanna ask this time?"

"S-sorry, you're just so fucking sexy, I need you to touch me, please"

You have half a mind to make her wait longer. To pin her hands over her head and prop yourself back onto her mouth, but an idea comes to mind that you can't just ignore. You giggle, giving her a simple 'okay' and before she knows it you've shifted on top of her, settling yourself into a hover over her face again, but this time facing the opposite direction. She can't see what your doing, but she feels it when you start sliding her shorts and boxers down before leaning down and spitting on her already glistening cunt.

"Oh my fucking god..."

Ellie's thighs are shaking around your head already, her hands gripping at the fat of your ass as she pulls you back down onto her mouth. Your muffled cries of pleasure fill the apartment, the vibrations from her moans against you only serving to drive you insane. A thin layer of sweat coats your bodies as you chase a simultaneous orgasm, hips bucking and rolling against each others tongues with primal urgency as that familiar coil tightens within your lower stomachs.

"Fuckfuckfuck- coming, I'm coming" Ellie's mouth detatches from you as she's the first to go, her trembling legs clamping around your head and trapping you against her. She's shockingly quick to replace her mouth with her fingers, slipping them inside of you without warning. She's almost as despereate to have you cum on her face as she was to cum herself, and to her luck, you unravel above her soon after. Her mouth comes back to you are you finish, lapping up every single drop of cum you give her, fingers still lazily pumping in and out of your dripping hole.

It takes a bit to float back down to reality, your head resting limp on her thigh as you slowly start to catch your breath, twitching and shaking too much to actually move on your own. Ellie's not much better, her head plopped down onto the couch cushion, gently kneading your ass with her hands and pressing sleepy kisses to your inner thighs. When you're finally able to move, it's not much, only adjusting yourself enough so that your faces are level, nuzzling your body close so that you can both lay next to each other on the couch. There's a peacful silence between the both of you for a while, your foggy brains still processing how far you'd gotten with one another in the span of a few hours.

"So...you really like me then? Like actually?" Ellie breathes out, a hand lightly rubbing along your side.

You laugh and give her a playful punch to the arm, the fact that she even felt the need to ask that almost comical to you after everything.

"Ow! What was that for?" She asks, feigning as if the light hit actually hurt.

"Of course I like you, dummy" You murmur, kissing her cheek. "I've liked you the whole time"

Reblogs are appreciated ☆ tags: @half-of-a-gay, @porcelainmystery,

#☆kennie's works #lesbian #tlou2 #wlw #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x fem!reader #loser!ellie #ellie williams tlou2 #ellie the last of us #ellie williams smut #ellie tlou #the last of us 2 #ellie williams #tlou ellie

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withlove-angel · 1 year ago

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How would they confess to you ?

(Luffy, sanji, zoro, Buggy, law)

Luffy

I think Luffy would be very straightforward with his confession, he wouldn't want to beat around the bush or cause any confusion. He would be very clear about his feelings for you and how much you mean to him. He might not be the most romantic person in the world but he would try his best to show you how much he cares about you and how important you are to him.

He might start by saying something like, "You know, I've been really enjoying our time together, and I have to say...I'm starting to fall for you!" Then, he might add, "Oh, who am I kidding, I've completely fallen for you! You're the only person who can make me smile like this and I never want that to go away." He might even end his confession with, "So, wanna be my treasure?"

Sanji

Well, Sanji might not confess right away, but he might start with subtle hints. He might drop little compliments or flirt a lot more. He would also make an extra-special meal to impress you. Eventually, he might get up the courage to tell you how he feels, and he would say something like "You're so beautiful and kind, it's hard not to have a crush on you"

That's true! Sanji does like to flirt, but he's also very respectful of women and their boundaries. He wouldn't push if you said no, but he might be a bit... persistent... if you said maybe, or said you wanted to get to know him better before making a decision. He might ask you more questions about yourself and your interests, or try to impress you with his cooking or fighting skills. But he wouldn't force you into anything, even if he does really like you

"I love your smile, and your laugh. Your eyes sparkle like jewels and your hair is like the sun on a sunny day. You're strong and brave, and you don't let anything stop you. I want to be the person who makes you smile the most in the whole world. My heart is yours; will you please accept it?"

Zoro

The way I envision it, he'd confess during a time of quiet, peace, and contemplation. He'd be hesitant, nervous, probably even a little awkward in his own way, but he'd do it without hesitation because it's what he's feeling. He'd want it to be genuine and sincere, and maybe it'd even be a spur-of-the-moment decision. If it's a more emotional moment, his swords might even be discarded to the side, as a symbolic gesture

*deep breath*" Oi. You know it's me, right? There's something I wanna get off my chest. It's not easy for me to put it into words. I don't know if I'm making sense... But here goes. I kinda like you- like like you. A lot. I think I've felt this way for a while now, but I haven't been able to say it. I know it's a lot to just say out loud, and it feels a bit... reckless. But I gotta just get it out. I like you."

Buggy

Buggy likes to present himself as powerful and intimidating. But deep down he's just an insecure guy who worries about what others think of him. In a private setting with someone he trusts, I think Buggy would be a lot more honest and open about his feelings. But he would still do it his own way, maybe in a roundabout way without actually saying the words "I love you".

I think Buggy would be very loyal and protective in a relationship, and he'd make sure that his partner knows that he values their connection deeply.

He would be careful not to say anything overly cheesy or melodramatic. He might try to lighten the mood with a joke, or compliment you in a way that makes you feel special and important to him. He would probably try to impress you with his strength and courage, and show off his abilities as a fighter and leader.

He would probably also be quite thoughtful and sweet, and show that he really cares about your well-being and happiness. But he wouldn't want to be too vulnerable or emotional, so he would likely try to keep things light and playful.

"So.. I.. err.. *cough* you're the most beautiful and amazing person I've ever met. (Turns all red) *cough* I mean... err... you're not too bad I guess. (Tries to smile) Wanna.. err.. be my partner.. I mean... umm... *cough* wanna be my romantic partner? Yeah, that's it. *cough* That was a joke, right? Right?"

Law

Law is the type to give subtle hints that he likes someone while keeping his feelings under wraps. If you like him too, you'd probably have to make a move first. He's the type to deny his feelings until the moment they're expressed. He has a hard time displaying his emotions, although he's quite a warm person internally.

If you confess he would probably be stunned at first. He wouldn't expect this to happen. However, once he processes what's occurred, he would probably say something along the lines of "Oh... hmm. Is that so?" His expression would definitely display his surprised and potentially pleased state. Though, he'll probably keep his answer brief and ambiguous. But the slightly blush and smirk on his face dont lie...

#yandere one piece #one piece imagine #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy the clown #law one piece #law x reader #luffy x reader #sanji x reader #zoro x reader #one piece #zoro #sanji #luffy

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hwajin · 10 months ago

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suggestive // i've said this before but i'm so sorry i'm not writing/ posting anything of much meaning lately, i'm working on smth big AND was busy reading a certain series on here which has intoxicated me sm that i couldn't possibly write anything of my own 😭😭 i promise there's a lot of stuff to come!!

hyunjin always needs his hands on you. he feels like he can't really rest if not one of his hand is in some sort or way caressing you, touching on your body, sliding his thumb across your skin absentmindedly. like he doesn't even notice it anymore - he just always has a hand laying on you, at all times. when you're out with a bunch of friends it's not as evident, though he never let's go of your hand when walking through a big crowd, never not has a palm at the small of your back to guide you to wherever you're going with him. it's so subtle that none of your friends would notice it either - a big hand laying on your thigh below the table while dining out, granting ocassional squeeze, just because. in private, when it's just the two of you, it'd be far more excessive, so far more to your liking. getting out of bed would always be a struggle - long limbs always caging you in, never ready to let you go for the day. when you do get up hyunjin's hand stays on you until the last possible moment - you're sitting up and he's still laying down behind you, his fingers playing with the skin at your waist, or wandering up to caress the hair in your neck. you stand up and his hand follows your curves with your movement, fingers gliding down your arching spine, the dip in your waist, the pebble of your hips, touching on you until you're out of reach, until his fingers are only memories upon your body. whenever you come home from work and he's in bed earlier than you are he urges you to step closer to him, your work attire still on - he pulls you in by the hips, places you to stand in between his thighs, undresses you softly because he knows you're exhausted, gifts a kiss to your stomach, to the centre of your chest, right where your heart beats for him.

@es-kay-zee @jeyelleohe @angelwonie @yvniek4ng @ppiri-bahng @bintificreads @svintsandghosts @llunapastell @sensitiveandhungry @minniesvenus @junebug032 @noellllslut @wolfennracha @unexceptional-h @like-a-diamondinthesky @katsukis1wife

#hyunjin smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios

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dark-konohagakure2 · 6 months ago

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I'd like to request Deidara seeing his sister for the first time after going rogue, he can't be without her now. Some of his hand stuff, kidnapping, incest, noncon. Please

tw: incest, sibling incest, noncon, kidnapping, obsession, molestation, groping, kissing, possessiveness, yandere

All characters depicted are 18+

Deidara was never a stellar older brother, he was never very attached to his little sister, seeing her as a brat that never understood his art, so he had no qualms with ditching her when he joined the Akatsuki, but by some bizzare stroke of luck he ends up running into her again years later, and his opinion on her does a drastic shift.

She's grown into quite the lovely young lady, now having curves that she didn't posses before. Deidara's opinion on her goes from indifference to a complete obsession with her, he doesn't want to be away from his sexy loveable sister for even a moment now, he wants her all to himself.

His sudden investment in her is incredibly jarring for her, but Deidara will just brush all her concerns off, telling her that he just missed his baby sister, he'll even take her to his home, generously letting her stay at his place, but what he doesn't tell her is that he'll never let her leave now that he has her.

It doesn't take her long to realize that her less than stable older brother has no intention of letting her leave, and Deidara isn't really subtle about it when she does find out, in fact, he sees it as the perfect time to take what he wants.

"Oh shut your mouth, un! It isn't kidnapping if we're family, yeah? So stop whining and let big bro take good care of you..."

Deidara wants to get a good handful of her body, but he doesn't just feel her body with his hands, he can taste it too thanks to the mouths on his palms, his hands will lick and bite her most sensitive spots while his actual mouth will be forcibly clamped onto hers, shoving his tongue down her throat and stealing her very first kiss.

He rambles on quite a bit when he's fucking her, going on about how good her pussy feels and how she grew up to be such a good lay. Deidara doesn't care that she's his sister, all he cares about in that moment is getting his rocks off and keeping her for himself.

Deidara is a virgin, the only experience with sex he has is using his hands to give himself a blowjob, but he's never gotten to sink his cock into some wet cunt until now, so he gets a bit overwhelmed, blowing his load almost immediately, but he won't stop after that despite his embarrassment.

When he's done with her he'll cuddle her close, even if she's crying and pushing him away, telling her all about how good that felt, and now that he has her, he's never going to let her escape his grasp ever again.

"See?! I told you it'd feel good you cute little idiot! You better get used to it, sweetie, because I'm going to be showing you a lot more of how much I love you~"

Deidara really ends up regretting leaving his sister behind all these years, not because of any genuine remorse for leaving his sister alone without so much as a goodbye, but because it meant he couldn't get inside her sweet little pussy sooner.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #boruto #naruto smut #naruto x reader #headcanon #naruto headcanons #reader insert #tw.incest #akatsuki #akatsuki smut #akatsuki x reader #deidara #deidara x reader #deidara smut #yandere #yandere naruto

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dilatorywriting · 2 years ago

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Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

3K notes · View notes

lovesickeros · 1 year ago

Text

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #neuvillette #focalors #furina #dont ask what happened here idk #this was. also supposed 2 be neuvi focused and then i.#dont talk 2 me abt focalors i wont ever shut up #got a 300k word essay on hand abt how i feel abt her character/how i interpret her personality and her story #focalors jsut like me fr fr (cries at the slightest inconvenience or the slightest mean comment)#shes so pathetic girlfail im gonna chew on her #what happens when reader gets stuck with two emotionally repressed french bastards?? hell #neuvi is the “emotionless” flavor of emotionally repressed in that hes HORRIBLE at showing emotions at all #ask him to smile and its incredibly unnerving and theres too many teeth but hes trying his best please call him pretty or he will cry :(#furina is the flavor of emotionally repressed where she makes it up by having Too Many emotions #using theatrics and masks to show everyone what they want to see but inside this girl is a MESS #constant anxiety and panic 24/7 #will do random shit and look at you and if u dont compliment her she will think u hate her and cry #compliment her and she'll do even stupider shit to try and impress you more #i love my scrunkly little babies they r so stupid and mentally ill someone get these bitches some THERAPY #i want 2 put them under a microscope #watch this be ooc fr furina when more of her lore drops if shes not girlfail im leaving #anyway see u in a week im going on a trip ill get back 2 u in 6-7 business days

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