#but I gotta find time to sit down to actually do that
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Hiiieeeeee may I maybe recommend a fic with Stevie and maybe his ditsy/clumsy gf?
And maybe she tries a new recipe and cooks/bakes something different and gives herself a nasty burn and maybe it’s the first time Steve hears her swear and he’s so concerned over her because she’s clearly hurt and crying but she’s more upset about messing up the dish instead of how badly the burn actually is?
hope u like it angel xoxo — steve patches you up after you burn yourself making breakfast for him (hurt/comfort, established relationship, cw for mentions of minor injuries, 1k)
French toast sizzles on a hot pan. You stand in front of the stove, in nothing but a stolen t-shirt and a modest pair of underwear, and watch it cook with your features pinched in a distant concentration. Your Stevie wanted breakfast — “’s the only thing I want in the whole world,” the boy whined dramatically into his pillow — so you were gonna make him breakfast or die trying.
Steve sits quiet at the kitchen table, sipping steaming coffee from a Count Chocula mug, and hissing every time it burns his tongue. He decides to flip through the Sunday newspaper, mostly ‘cause he feels the honeyed domesticity calls for it. He only finds real interest in the cartoon page.
“Alright. Put ‘em up,” Charlie Brown threatens in the first panel, dressed head to toe in cowboy gear. Snoopy’s in the second one, with both of his black ears sitting straight in the air.
Steve chuckles to himself, a sharp exhale through his nose, and opens his mouth to call you over. “Fuck!” he hears you squeak before he can. It makes him laugh for real this time. “Hey. Watch the language, babe,” the boy teases.
“Sorry…” he hears you murmur in response. With your back still facing him, obscuring any view of the hot stove, he figures you must’ve burnt the first batch of toast.
It wouldn’t be the most surprising thing, anyway. You’re the clumsiest person he’s ever met (more than Robin, which he didn’t think was even possible). You’re not much of a chef either, bustling around the kitchen with a floundering air of confidence.
“Such a naughty word from such a pretty girl,” Steve jokes in an attempt to make you laugh. He hears his sensitive girl sniffle to herself instead, like you’re crying — or about to. His crooked smile ebbs. “Hey… I was just kidding, babe. You can say whatever the hell you want— I don’t care.”
His chair scrapes the tile when he stands. His socked feet pad against the floor on his way to you. “I swear all the time,” Steve says and embraces you from behind. His scruffy chin bobs on your shoulder. “I mean, you’ve heard me— I basically make up new words.”
He scoffs a faint laugh before pressing a kiss to your temple.
You sniffle again. “I messed up,” you murmur, voice wet with unshed tears.
“What do you mean?”
“The french toast. I put too much egg in the mixture, and now everything’s all sticky— It’s gonna be so gross now.”
You ramble mindlessly and gesture with your hands. Steve catches a glimpse of a red and raging welt on the outside of your thumb. The sight of the fresh burn makes his chest twist.
“Holy shit, babe.”
You meet his concerned gape with a doe-eyed look. “What?”
“Your hand— Let me see.”
He takes your fingers in his gentle, softly calloused ones. You shrug off his palpable worry but let him examine your stinging skin nonetheless. “It’s fine. Doesn’t even hurt,” you lie through your teeth. “I barely even felt it.”
Steve’s peers at you beneath his lashes, bushy brows raised until his forehead wrinkles. “It’s gotta hurt, babe,” he insists in a monotone.
“My bruised pride hurts more.”
He grins before he means to. “Come on, weirdo— let’s get a bandaid on you,” the boy chuckles and turns off the burning stove-eye. You gasp when he tugs you out of the kitchen with a gentle hand around your wrist.
“But breakfast!” you whine in protest.
“I’ll drive us to the diner after, alright? I promise,” Steve assures as he leads you down the hallway. “That way neither of us has to die to put some food on the table.”
“Well, that’s just dramatic.”
He shrugs and flips on the bathroom light. “Maybe a little.”
You sit on the edge of the bathroom counter, per Stevie’s instructions, while he fishes for the first aid kit in the cabinets. He fits just perfectly between your thighs, you notice, as he rubs ointment onto your finger with an impossibly gentle touch. You quickly forget about the raised welt on your thumb — too focused on the pretty boy who holds all his love in his hands.
“There you go. Good as new,” Steve smiles once he’s stuck a plaster flush to your skin. He doesn’t notice the small pout scrunching your pretty face until he’s closed the first aid kit. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothin’…” you murmur, gaze averted as you pick at the fraying hem of your oversized tee. “I just… I wanted to do something nice for you, but I messed it all up, and you ended up having to do something nice for me…”
Steve scoffs. “You do nice stuff for me all the time.”
Your frown deepens.
“You tidied up the house when I was working late yesterday,” he tells you. “And you did the dishes even though you hate doing the dishes—”
“Everyone hates doing the dishes,” you insist.
“Exactly!”
“Well, you said death would be easier than doing them, so I thought it’d make it easier on you by doing it while I was off…”
“Exactly,” Steve repeats, settling between your legs once more. He smooths a pair of wide palms over the outsides of your thighs and flashes you another pretty smile. “You make everything easier on me. Even when you don’t mean to.”
You peek at him beneath your lashes, gaze glimmering with something short of hope. “Really?” you wonder in a mousy voice.
“Yeah! All the time!” the boy scoffs without thinking.
He wraps a pair of golden arms around your shoulders and pulls you in for a smothering hug. Your hands curl into his sweatshirt as you bury your face in his neck — inhaling the sweet scent of sleep and leftover cologne lingering there.
Steve noses at your hair, still a bit wild from your slumber. “Except for when you accidentally burn yourself and act like it’s not a big deal,” he teases with a smile curling at your temple.
Muffled against his neck, you grumble, “It wasn’t.”
#published by bug#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington x you#stranger things x reader#steve harrington#stranger things imagine#stranger things fic#stranger things#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things fanfic#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fanfic#st drabbles#stevie drabble
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My hand never seems to actually translate the ideas that are spinning up in my brain. how do you get it all out? any advice? just draw more? do i need to use more references? your art is just so beatiful you are one of my top inspos.
ah first of all thank you very much! i'm honored! 😳
(long post incoming lol)
to answer the question though, i don't think i sufficiently translate what's in my mind and i frequently let myself down! but it's important not to let that Stop you. i think overall it's sort of multifaceted and different for everyone--theres no single answer i can give you that will guaranteed work for you--but for me personally i think it mainly comes down to Derangement, DISCRETION!!, Discipline, & Diet
before i say anything more though it's important also to remember that making visual art (in our case drawings/comics) is training like 2 or 3 separate skills (depending on how you divide them). the HAND represents your current drawing ability & technique; what your drawing hand is physically able to produce when you set pen to paper. the BRAIN is the creative engine that cooks up your ideas and thinks of ways to assemble them. and the EYE represents your ability to recognize what art looks like and how it "should" look. when your brain is thinking of ideas and your hand can't capture them, that is not because you're "bad" at it: it means your eye skill is currently outpacing your hand skill. your ability to discern art, to see things like proportions and anatomy and composition and whatever else is going on, is currently stronger than your ability to draw them yourself. this is not a flaw. this is not a flaw. this is not a flaw!!!! but it does mean your hands' ability to capture what your brain has imagined will let your eyes down until your hands catch up. once they do--by studying, practicing your technique, using references, and gaining confidence--your eye skill will then begin to outpace it again. this cycle, the dance between the two skills, is why you might sometimes feel yourself suddenly "getting good" at art, then just as suddenly plateauing or "getting worse"; you are training different parts of what makes art happen. there is nothing wrong with this. you are improving even when it doesnt feel like it--even when it feels like THE LITERAL OPPOSITE is happening. because you're improving different skills!
(and of course as your eye skill develops you will look back at previous stages of development and go "HOW COULD I NOT SEE HOW BAD THIS LOOKS!"--and yeah. that's the thing; you probably, rather literally, couldn't see it! you only think it looks bad now because you've improved your "eye" skill. you should try to be proud of that feeling, even though it also likely sucks and is embarrassing to you at the same time. there's posts, even recent ones, that i go "i cant believe i thought that looked OK enough to post PUBLICLY" and it is embarrassing for me! but all it means is that i'm better at what i do now...so it doesn't get me down too badly. you gotta shrug that stuff off.)
with that out of the way, my four evil councilmen are as follows:
DERANGEMENT: find something you are not normal about. this can be anything (whether it's a topic that interests you, The Character, a medium, a damn color palette...anything!), as long as it captures your mind and motivates you to create. your brain should be spinning up ideas like crazy and your only choice is to draw them. because once you have Derangement the only thing that feels worse than Making Something Subpar is sitting around Not Making Anything At All. you should be interested in what you draw. you should ideally love it, even if you don't love your own art yet. once you know what motivates you, let that simmer until you have no choice but to draw even if you're scared it'll turn out bad. and hey--there will probably (unless you become some kind of Art God) always be parts you think should've turned out better in some way, however:
DISCRETION!!: realistically nobody NEEDS to know what parts of a piece you're unhappy with. it's valuable to have friends/art partners/mentors/whatever that you can comfortably check in with and go "i dont like [part], what do you think" and get feedback, but that's for YOU. for the audience at large, maybe people will notice, maybe they won't, but as an artist you are constantly growing and you will very likely be constantly looking back at past pieces (even just days or hours old sometimes) and going "what the hell was i thinking? how did i not see [error/s], or why didn't i go for [different idea/finish/color palette/etc]?". getting hung up on this will probably either light a fire under you or demotivate you completely depending on your particular brain soup. for me it can go either way depending on where i'm at in my current hand/eye development phase. but i try not to fixate on it. it's enough to observe it and take notes for next time. every drawing is part of your growth and you have to make wonky art in order to occasionally make something that satisfies your eyes. in the meantime, don't beat yourself up or put yourself down. you are gaining experience and technical know-how, and spotting things you'd like to work on for next time; especially if you're sharing this work and other people are telling you they like what you made, there's no need to undercut this by dwelling on the rough parts so much that you can't enjoy it. the important thing is that you made it.
DISCIPLINE: you made it, it's done, now make something new. do it again from the top! you're right: Drawing A Lot is absolutely the key to Drawing Better. it is also usually an evil curse that reveals How Bad You Drew 3 Months Ago. but you have no choice, if you want to hone your skills and improve the Brain Image -> Art Image translation. you have to do it even when it sucks. do it bored, do it scared, but you have to do it or you'll never get anywhere. when improving yourself, you have to draw a lot to see change, and this is the part that sucks, right? feeling like you're not really getting anywhere or like you'll never capture what's in your mind. you can do studies where you collect references and focus in on ironing out something that's bothering you (such as, like, specific objects, perspectives, clothing details, anatomy pieces, light and shadow, etc etc); this can help crack the malaise for sure... learning how to use references is good, as well as whatever tools are available to you (in your medium/software). How To Do This is sort of a different post, but it does help (and sometimes annoyingly so; there's been rare but very annoying moments in my career where i will be simply looking at a picture and idly make an observation that cracks a style/anatomy problem i've had for Years and im always like COME ON!!! hahaha--but yes looking at references and studying them "like an artist" definitely helps, even when it's not as miraculous as that). overall work smarter and nail down the stuff you're unsure about, then incorporate what you've learned into your art style until it looks a way you like. you will likely have to just grind it out sometimes, and often this grind will not feel particularly fun. but you can Dog Medication Salami Pocket yourself into it if you're drawing something you're sufficiently Deranged about. <- this is what diesel is always doing with those women (LOL)
also, Output. you do have to Be Making Stuff in order to finish stuff. for example for comic projects like adastra or failteacher au, if i can draw ~1 page a day, the update will be complete in no time. but i have to draw that 1 page every day to make it happen, even if i feel off or lack confidence about what i'm making. of course i'm not saying you shouldn't take breaks; you NEED to take breaks, set your goals to your own level, and listen to yourself (and don't get some kind of wrist problem like me please). but the point im trying to make is that if you can make yourself sit down and do it even though you're scared it'll turn out bad, (or, hell, even if this part of your project is Simply Boring), then you can do it anytime. this is important too. but you will probably still sometimes feel stuck if you try to work and grind all the time.
DIET: regularly, but especially when you're stuck in a rut, step away from your craft and enrich your diet. you have to play just as much as you have to work. for example, i am always ALWAYS reading comics. at any given time i probably have 1-4 (sometimes more) tabs open of different comics i am simultaneously reading!!!! i read webcomics, webtoons, manga, DC--any demographic or genre, i take random recs from people and just go read them. whatever medium you're in, you have to take in what other people are doing with it, you have to let them teach and inspire you. you have to branch out and look at genres and styles you usually don't. unwind and look at comics, at illustrations, at design, at animation, at video games. enjoy them as an audience, but look at them like an artist too. when you like something, pause and examine (as both an artist and audience) why you like it. (vice versa: if you don't like something, you can try to figure out why that is!) let other people's ideas and habits flow over you. you have to relax and enrich your mind, to refresh your creativity and motivation. this is crucial. when you come back, you'll feel refreshed and ready to go, and your big brain cauldron of tools + ideas + techniques will be all shiny and bubbling. it's just as important to experience art as it is to make it. i really can't stress that enough!!!!
i talk about comics specifically here because right now obviously i am making a lot of comics (adastra, failteachers). i often feel like i get stuck in boring page layouts and can't think of how to panel something. and honestly sometimes a basic layout that just Gets Through The Scene is simply sufficient (after all, not everything has to be a Groundbreaking New Masterpiece; we would all get fatigued by that!)--or otherwise a "boring layout" is just what i have to put down in order to put down anything at all. but in both cases, reading comics and taking in what people are doing with their layouts makes me feel refreshed and i can return to my own work all rested and bright-eyed. everything we read and watch and take in is added to our "mental library" for the brain to reference when it's time to create something. it is just as enriching and important to experience someone else's art and perspective, and to enjoy a diverse range of impressions. you are always learning and observing, so try to pay attention--it's feeding your brain... :j
(and now, hopefully, your enriched Diet has added fertilizer for your Derangement, and the entire council can take their turn again from the top of the order. HDFHBJFS)
hmm...
well, overall, like i said at the top, there's no One Solution or really Single Piece Of Advice i can offer you. but i hope maybe you got something out of it anyway. everyone's a bit different and everyone's ideal workflow and journey is different too. but don't give up, keep at it, and...GOOD LUCK!!! 🫡🫡🫡
& always remember: in the end, making something YOU like, that looks good to YOU and fulfills YOUR goals, is more important than making something "perfect" (if such a thing even exists). as long as YOU'RE enjoying making your art (yes, even when making the art is hell and sucks!), that's all that matters. 🤝
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Inconvenience | g.clarke
Chapter 4: Tough Day
Summary: The boys try and help Noa with a new project
Word Count: 1.2k+
Warnings: swearing, George being a dick (again)
Roughly a week or so had passed since Noa moved into her new apartment, and her hopes that George would warm up to her hadn’t been achieved yet.
Even though she spent most evenings with the boys, he would still only talk to her if the others were there, and whenever he could he avoided her at all costs.
It was beginning to bother Noa. She couldn’t understand why he was acting this way towards her, and after thorough discussions with his other roommates, they confirmed that she hadn’t done or said anything to cause this behaviour.
Luckily, Arthur Hill and her got on like a house on fire, and being one of the better housemates at DIY, he aided in building most of her new furniture whenever he wasn’t recording a video or working on his new song.
“So when’s it coming out? I feel as if I can only listen to the same sound bite before I go crazy.” Noa said, glancing up from her laptop to look at Arthur, who was sitting on her kitchen counter.
“Should be done in a couple of weeks, just trying to iron out the wrinkles and sort the bridge out.” He replied, taking a long swig of tea out of the mug that she had leant him. “What are you working on? I feel as I can hear your brain whirring.”
Noa grumbled and massaged her temples. It was moments like these that she wished she had an influencer job, with complete creative freedom and a flexible schedule, instead of her gruelling 9-6. “Trying to find as many different types of ancient column design as possible. Well, not too ancient because the clients want their building to look modern enough.”
Arthur gave her a sympathetic look. “You really are bottom of the food chain in your firm aren’t you?”
“Yep. That’s what you get when you’re the new kid, all the tasks that no one else wants.”
“But at least you’re not having to make coffee and do paperwork right?” He asked hopefully.
Noa raised her eyebrows at him. “Why do you think I’m having to do this at home, and not in the office.”
“Ah.”
“Ah indeed.” She muttered, scrolling through another page of Grecian inspired pillars. “Honestly, sometimes rich people have too much money to spend. I mean, who needs a foyer with the three types of alternating pillars, that match the fountains? Do you know how expensive that is Arthur?”
He winced. “I’m guessing a lot.”
“Correct.”
“Noa!” Chris yelled, swinging the door open. “You, me, George and the two Arthurs and the club. Yes?”
“Chris, it’s a Thursday night.”
“Exactly! Thursday night, do you have anything better to do?”
Noa blinked at him. “Be up in the morning with ample amount of sleep ready for work?”
“God I forget you have a boring actual job.”
“Someone has to remind you guys there’s an actual world out there.” She muttered, typing quickly on her computer, eyes widening as her stomach let out a low growl.
Chris and Arthur slowly turned their heads to look at her. “Okay, new plan. Order takeout and watch a movie?”
“I could be up for that.” She said quietly, absentmindedly chewing on the end of her pen, before going to jot down some notes. “Just need to finish working.”
Chris’ eyebrows raised. “And when will that be?”
“Before the end of time.” Noa said. “Or at least I hope so. I’ve gotta figure out the best combination of these pillars and then I’ll be done.”
“And how many combinations are there?”
“Well there’s eight main types, but then there’s different patterns within those. I might have actually lost count.”
Chris moved so that he could peer over Noa’s shoulder, and winced at the number of tabs open she had on her computer, as well as the scribbles that adorned her notebook.
“Gonna be honest. I’ve got no clue at what looks good. But I believe in you Noa, if anyone could figure it out it’s you.” He said reassuringly, patting her head. “Right, Hill let’s order food, at this point in time Noa will probably eat whatever we put in front of her, so what are we feeling up for?”
arthurhill
liked by arthurtv, maxbalegde and 28,039 others
arthurhill everyone drop your favourite pillars and columns to help with Noa’s latest design
Comments open
fan1 everyone knows the correct answer is doric
⮑ fan2 booo temple of winds supremacy
maxbalegde scared and confused at this comment section
⮑ noamurphy they’re all just architecture nerds like me
arthurtv correct answer is ionic
⮑ noamurphy no it isn’t I promise
⮑ arthurtv one day you’ll see
⮑ noamurphy sure. also we’re getting take out if you wanna join
⮑ arthurtv I am running to the elevator
fan3 noa in the ikea vlog is everything 😫🤌🤌🤌
⮑ fan4 she is a divine queen
⮑ fan3 her and George in the bed 🤌🤌
⮑ fan4 nooo that was the most forced and uncomfortable thing I couldn’t with it-
gkbarry_ we stan a hardworking queen
⮑ noamurphy love you boo
⮑ gkbarry_ okay now girlie take a break
“Okay Noa, maybe take Grace’s advice and stop? Surely it would be better to rest up and then be able to finish it when you’re not exhausted?” Chris asked gently, reaching to slide the laptop away from her grip.
Noa glared at him and swatted his hands away. “No Christopher. No.”
Chris gave her a stern look, only looking away when the door slammed open again, revealing Arthur Television in his pyjama trousers and hoodie. “Food, when?”
“The one with the law degree decides to speak like a caveman.” Chris muttered, shaking his head, as a much calmer George walked through the door.
Walking into her apartment, George was hit with the realisation that he’d never been in Noa’s apartment before - she’d always been at theirs, or if Chris and Arthur where heading down he’d give the excuse that he was busy planning videos.
He was pleasantly surprised. Well, he didn’t exactly know what to expect, but it definitely wasn’t a light and airy apartment. Maybe he thought there would be neon lights everywhere, like the ones that adorned Chris’ room or stacks of books like Arthur.
The living room was cosy, and he recognised the two sofas that they had picked out in Ikea, as well as a plush rug, with a coffee table that matched the dining table and chairs. A couple of pictures adorned the walls, a simple beach watercolour as well as some cinematic shots of her playing football with Arthur and Chris.
His brow furrowed. Neither of them mentioned that she played, and since she’d arrived they had filmed a football video for Chris’ channel, but she didn’t take part. Surely if Noa was good enough to warrant her to have photos of her playing, then surely Chris would want that talent in his videos?
George cast his eyes to Noa, who was hunched over her laptop, still trying to finish the designs. Arthur TV sat next to her, and the pair were discussing which column designs worked the best together.
“Maybe that person was onto something bringing temple of winds into the conversation…what if you put them with some Doric pillars, then…” Arthur trailed off, stumped.
“You see? Finding two designs that go together is easy, but a third? A fucking third?” Noa sighed, resting her head on the keyboard.
“How rich are the clients, ie, what’s the budget?”
“Yeah, are they Ronaldo rich, or so rich that you’ve probably never heard of them?” Arthur Hill asked.
“The second one.” She muttered. “Which is why it has to be perfect, because they are paying us a lot.”
Noa sighed and pulled up the designs of the fountains that had been chosen. She studied them meticulously, trying to find a hint that could help her. Even though it was strenuous work, this was one of the reasons that loved designing buildings, once you found all the right pieces, it perfectly fell into place like a puzzle. It was incredibly satisfying, and seeing the final projects always made her heart swell with pride.
But this was really trying her patience. Why couldn’t she figure it out? It didn’t also help that she had a live audience watching her stress over it. “Do you know when the food’s getting here?”
“Should be about five minutes.”
“Thank god.”
“Oh never mind, the guys here.” Chris said, slipping his shoes on, that had been previously abandoned by the door. “Arthur can you help carry it?”
“Sure.” Both of them replied, following Chris out of the door, leaving George alone with Noa.
She was silently cursing the three that had just left, physically wishing all the curses and ailments upon them for leaving her with George. Who, was silently leaning against her kitchen counter.
George didn’t know what to do. Ever since the trip to Ikea he hadn’t been close to Noa again, not that he wanted to, but he wasn’t sure if he should mention it. Why should he? If she hadn’t mentioned it then surely she was fine, right?
Not that he even wanted to talk to her.
George couldn’t fully see into Noa’s room, most is it being blocked by the angle at which he was looking in, and from what he could tell, it was just like the rest of the apartment, except with more decorations. He wasn’t sure why, but he was curious about what was inside, how Noa had organised her bookcase, what perfumes she used, how she kept her jewellery, the way her plans laid out on her sketching desk.
And he didn’t know why.
As far as he was concerned he actively disliked Noa, and so he couldn’t fathom why a part of him was so interested in her, why he wanted to know the little details of her life.
Noa closed her eyes. She was genuinely considering giving up, but she knew she couldn’t. This had to be finished that evening so that it could be sent to her supervisor ready for the next morning. Pushing her chair back, she stood up and paced into her bedroom, unknown to her that George’s eyes followed her every step, hoping that one of her books would provide her with some inspiration.
But it wasn’t any of her architecture books that caught her eye. It was the battered copy of the third Percy Jackson book - it was her favourite of the series, and would read it religiously as a child. Partially, as a child it was her dream to become a Hunter of Artemis, and so she could read the book over and over again without tiring of it.
Somehow, this was the prompt she needed to let the puzzle pieces fall into place. “OH MY GOD!” She exclaimed, sprinting out of her room and skidding on the wooden floor to the table. Noa grinned whilst nearly destroying her keyboard at how quickly she was typing.
“FOOOOD!” Chris called, carrying the plastic bags and setting them down in front of Noa.
“Dude give me two minutes I’ve figured it out.”
“Really?” Arthur TV asked excitedly, pulling the chair next to her out, so he could see what she was working on. “Caryatids? Noa that’s genius! They match the f-“
“Fountains yeah, because they’ve got marble women carved into them, and so they’d match perfectly.”
“Have we ever said you’re a genius?” Chris asked, smiling proudly at her.
“Only when I do genius shit.”
#arthur frederick#arthur hill#chris dixon#chris md#george clarke fics#george clarke imagine#george clarkey#george clarkey x reader#uk youtubers#youtube
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Is there any place I can read/see/just consume content in general from the vile coke universe? I am absolutely obsessed with these goobers I love them the half vampire idea with Malik is so cool and oughhh Ellie,,,, ellie so pretty,,,
Actually scratch that every one of your ocs are pretty lmfao they all slay so hard😭😭
aw thank you so much :') means a lot
I‘m still working on making decent doodles and misc artworks for the rest of the cast so there‘s more goobers to come. ellie‘s bestie for the resties [partner in crime] is high on my priorities 🤞
I wish I had more about it out but I‘m still very anxious with publicly sharing anything original of mine…. so as of rn there‘s only the info I‘ve put up here LOL </3 but I‘m trying to get more expansive with the parts I share. ty for your interest, it gives me more incentive to get over my anxiety HAHA
there‘s quite a lot of backstory I‘ve yet to share. but a very fast tldr is that ellie and her bff (mariam, or "mari“ as a nickname) are childhood friends. mari‘s dad, subhi, took in malik, ellie, and michael when they got orphaned, up until relationships (see: primarily between subhi and michael) started souring. also important: mari (and subhi) is a puppy dawg werewolf
#ask#vile coke#yeah that‘s right vampire werewolf story bet u never seen that before#I‘ve had some fics(? is that even the right word) in mind#but I gotta find time to sit down to actually do that#even getting time to draw is difficult LOL I‘m always drained by school#important to note that vampires and werewolves are still mostly just superstition here#I loveee subhi
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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]
{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney
{☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader
{☆} warnings blood
{☆} word count 3.7k
{☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]
Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.
It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.
Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.
She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.
She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.
Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.
And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.
She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.
So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.
Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.
..A dangerous prize, too.
She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.
"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.
He looked out of breath, she noted.
The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.
He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.
"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."
Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.
But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.
So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.
If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.
Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.
What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..
The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.
So if not the prophecy, then what?
Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.
She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.
..A draw, perhaps.
The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.
She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.
Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.
She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.
She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.
"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."
All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.
With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.
Each piece had it's purpose.
Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.
She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.
It was almost too easy.
She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.
The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.
She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.
With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.
Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.
She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.
Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.
The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.
Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.
..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.
She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.
"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..
Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.
Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.
It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.
She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.
For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.
And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.
She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.
"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"
Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..
The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!
"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."
Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.
"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"
..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.
She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.
"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.
Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."
Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.
"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?
She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?
"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."
The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.
"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"
Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.
"Have you no answer?"
The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.
Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.
"I will kill them myself."
Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.
"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."
They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.
"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"
Did she?
"Will you help me?"
She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.
"..Yes."
#sagau#genshin sagau#self aware genshin#genshin impact sagau#self aware genshin impact#fic tag#imposter au#genshin cult au#genshin impact cult au#arlecchino#lyney#furina#you do NOT wanna know what i got put thru writing this fic#trying 2 find out where arle was in the few times we DO see her and going down a rabbit hole of fuck fontaine and its layout actually!#I spent like 3 hours looking it up and checking in game it gives me a migraine thinking abt it. ew#anyway trying to write a really smart character is surprisingly difficult when ur as dumb as rocks#also used an actual chess match for this and gave myself an even worse migraine trying 2 make sure i didnt repeat moves or smth#furina doesnt get a spotlight yet just imagine her sitting in the corner trembling like a wet kitten you found on the side of the road#arlecchino goes thru a crisis more at 11#shes a tired single dad shes isnt getting paid enough for this okay#hands u a fic over half the length of the other THREE PARTS#ehe :]#is arle actually on ur side??? is she gonna double cross u???? who knows!!!!!#shes unpredictable she might stab u for funsies#anyway im gonna go nap in a ditch now this took SO LONGGGGG OH MY G-D#also just think acolytes who arent buddy buddy w reader and even resent them is so tasty#bc how r they supposed 2 know reader was a human vibing 5 minutes before their got eebied 2 teyvat..#reader gotta roll up their sleeves and get 2 WORK sometimes murder IS okay#they gotta fix some shit around here and that means committing several crimes all at once. sometimes more#a group can be g-d (just got here) their dragon (neuvi) their cat (archon) their dog (wrio) and their wolf (arle)
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im just gonna be honest gang obviously its gonna be easy for you to say youre in love with a character and theyre an angel when anytime they do something you don't like you brush it off as out of character
#bad writing is still canon unfortunately#the place where i absolutely draw the line is gallavich being verse don't fucking piss me off @shameless writers#unfortunately your fav characters did do and say those bad things..... and to ignore that is too fundamentally misunderstand their character#how can you love a person when you choose to be blind to who they are </3#this isn't directed toward anybody y'all are just being very dramatic lately and really i think we should remember that tv shows aren't real#i can recognize when someone is caused by bad writing but i still have to accept that it's a real thing that happened#like. do i find shameless entertaining? YES! is it well written? FUCK NO#it's actually fundamentally a bad show in many ways. but that's WHY i enjoy discussing it#it's why my hyperfixation hasn't died down. because theres just SO MUCH to pick apart and interpret and discuss!#it's actually so bad at times i blocked it out of my memory!#but if i believe something isn't canon or *shouldn't be canon* (HUGE difference between those 2 things)#then i should explain why i think that. and i also need to accept that others disagree#but if you say everything you don't like is just ooc bad writing and therefore not real to canon then#....lol what are you even doing here#like. we should be rallying against the writers for being actively racist homophobic transphobic fatphobic ableist etc#yet we're sitting here with our thumbs up our asses fighting about which character fanclub is the most oppressed#WHO CARESSSSS JOHN WELLS DOESN'T CARE ABOUT US IT TRULY ISN'T WORTH WASTING YOUR BREATH OVER#i just want to read about 2 toxic kinky boys kissing idk#let me say this tho! hardcore fiona stans you gotta be the most out of touch people on planet earth!#okay goodnight everypony#wall of text in the tags#a.txt
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okay can we have a new rule that if you're my friend and know I struggle with rsd from adhd + you're planning on hanging out with mutual friends but specifically aren't inviting me for whatever reason. Maybe Don't Tell Me About It
#id just rather not know man. even if I cant go or dont particularly want to im going to get stung by it and it rly sucks#its a TON of extra effort i have to put in to emotionally navigate that information without overreacting and making it an issue#wait actually maybe i do need to sit down with her and explain this more explicitly. bc she probably doesnt rly know abt it#even tho ive mentioned it shes rly terrible at reading ppl and i probably dont let on much abt it anyway bc im used to dealing w it#ugh. but also its rly embarrassing to talk abt and ill have to tread so carefully to make sure it doesnt get misinterpreted. hmm#but itd be worth it if she stopped so. ill give it some thought#it makes me feel so unreal sometimes bc i cant always tell if im justifiably upset or if im 'just overreacting' so i assume the latter-#most of the time to give myself space to work thru the emotion and minimise the damage i might cause if i AM just overreacting#but then sometimes later on i realise that it was justified but its too late to bring it back up and anyway ive worked through it#and idk. theres smth self disrespectful abt it all im tired of making space all the time and never taking any up myself#im not THAT upset rn like this is a v minor thing but still. might be time to start nipping this stuff in the bud#aaanyway#im procrastinating eating bc i cooked a nice meal but now im not in the mood to eat it 😭😭 but i gotta fuel up.....#ill find smth to watch hopefully thatll do the trick#yawns so loud bye for now#.diaries
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Having brain worms. What if uhhhhhh SOS Mianite au
#this is a fully undeveloped idea but it is simmering#initial thoughts. mog is so champion of ianite. fwip is dianite's.#I'm not convinced of who mianite's is yet but i feel like sausage is desperately vying for the role and getting repeatedly rejected#oli ends up as a reluctant ianitee. he was originally a dianite follower but dianite found him annoying and was a dick so oli ditched him.#ianite finds him funny and decides to pick him up and now he's trying very hard not to mess it up bc she actually respects him#joel would claim not to need any stupid god until he sees how much fun fwip is having causing problems on purpose with dianite and gives in.#his wife joining up with dianite probably also doesn't desuade him in that department#jimmy isn't particularly keen on any of them. he's off doing his own thing#katherine feels very classic mianitee to me.#I've got mixed feelings on Pix. i kind of feel like he should be on his own thing (priest? wizard? something like that)#if not he's ianitee i think. but it takes him awhile to commit#joey's dianitee. eloise feels ianitee to me. shubble probably mianitee.#is that everyone? i think that's everyone#idk if this would be a scenario where the world/plot was more based on mianite or sos honestly#maybe a healthy mix.#do we keep the death/fate coin element? idk idk maybe not? but it doesn't feel like sos without some hardcore element#gotta sit on it#this is the first time in a long time I've just done like straight up stream of consciousness brainstorming in the tags of a post huh#feels very 2020#OWEN I FORGOT OWEN. UH. i feel like he might help balance out the mianite team. i can't put it into worlds but it feels right#he's the type of guy that you look at and immediately think dianite and you're wrong#but i could be tempted to switch him and joey. cause joey did have the whole prison thing in sos which is very mianite#even if he's generally the most dianitee guy i have ever fucking seen#i. i also forgot scott.#embarrassing. I've been watching him the longest and he's the only one on this list I've actually written into mianite crossovers before#uhhhh anyways he feels very true neutral to me. he's another one who i feel like maybe he should be off doing his own thing#if not probably mianite#this is such a mess lmao#i had to put the idea down somewhere before my head exploded sorry
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If only there were a cranberry bog near me, I could probably go there and be like "listen... I actively like spiders... you should hire me", and then maybe I could get a nice job with the benefit of working collaboratively with spiders if I understand things correctly
#given one time I was taking a spider out and didn't feel like grabbing a cup#and they scurried off the paper and on to my hand and I literally didn't care#was more worried about how they jumped ship on the stairs rather than in the pantry where I was taking them#I feel like I can officially say I'm not scared of spiders#unless they're really venomous; I don't got a problem with them; and even there it's more about my cats#if it were just me in the house; yeah I'd give em a wide berth just to be safe#but I'm not sure if I'd bother tossing out something venomous#and I certainly don't think I'd kill em (which I probably would do if I saw one since the cats are here)#far less of a fan of hornets; though out here at least they're chill#you just cautiously cup em and toss em out; and if it's winter they're dying and hardly want to move#(sometimes I just put em in the basement; last one I saw I put next to the tree outside)#(they're already as good as dead; just gotta find em some place comfortable)#wasps are chiller out here than in the city; but they still just won't fucking sit still and... I don't like em#so long as they're not around my house we're good; and usually they're not around the house#and they're less likely to sting it seems#but I don't like em#spiders I like though; spiders at this point I honestly don't care if they get on me#another one was coming down from the ceiling and I was trying to catch them on something so they wouldn't land on me#till it clicked in my head I didn't actually care and just held my hand out#mostly I'm just jumpy and don't like things touching me in general; especially when I'm not expecting it#but if I stop and think about it I realize I don't actually care with spiders#which is why a cranberry bog ought to hire me; it sounds like when they harvest spiders climb you#and I just wouldn't care; based on actual things that have happened; I think I really wouldn't mind
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finished my 2nd full watch of FMA:B
many thoughts. head full
#fmab is like. my go to series when i'm getting/giving myself a tattoo#so i've seen the first 15 or so episodes like six times#but man i really do love this series#i find the Elric brothers dynamic with Hohenheim so painfully relatable and heartbreaking and i love it#i have some ideas for art but i don't know how to go about drawing Hohenheim lmao#i draw the same 4 characters so i really should branch out#honestly i'm so glad bishop exists i would not be able to draw men at all if i didn't sit down to draw him lmfao#speaking of bishop i do have some art of him i've been working on that all three of you fans will hopefully be able to enjoy#he's really funny and i love drawing him but you all know Rook and Castel own my heart so i draw them way more#actually my art of bishop and knight consistently gets more notes. idk if it's more because of knight though#anyway back to fmab#i still hate roy mustang so much god bless i am never drawing that man#did draw Lust this morning though but i gotta get off my ass and draw some other stuff so the art makes sense
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HEAR ME OUT!! ollie thinking felix is single right, hanging out at oxford and everything and then one night felix is nowhere to be seen and he finds him with a girl. turns out feliz is vv much not single but ollie knows her as the smart girl of the school so he's shocked by the pairing?!?!?!
Who would've thought? || Felix Catton x reader
A/n: I actually hate how I did this but oh well, also, my first felix catton fic did so well so quickly!!!! so happy you guys enjoyed it :)
Warnings: swearing, mentions of sex, drinking, idk rlly im so bad w my warnings 😭
Wc: 764
Felix Catton Masterlist
"Gorgeous, isn't he?" Your voice causes Oliver to flinch as he whips his head to where the sound of your voice came from. "W-what-" He stammers. You giggle at his behaviour, taking a long drag from the cigarette before dropping it to the ground and stepping on it.
"I see the way you stare at him, Ollie. I don't blame you though, he's a sight for sore eyes," You sigh, leaning your head against the wall, watching Felix with his friends.
Oliver didn't know what to say. He only stared at you before gravitating his gaze back to Felix. Oliver knew you as one of the smartest girls at school, your grades rivalling with his.
"You can admit it. He's gorgeous." You open your mouth again, turning your head at Oliver with a grin. He gulps. "I-uhm-" He began before you interrupt him, "Come on, Ollie" Your tone was playful.
"He's gorgeous." Oliver quickly replied as you smile. You push yourself off the wall, patting Ollie's shoulder before leaving him standing there dumbfounded.
~
"Fuck!" You curse as you feel the hot liquid cascade down your front. You let out a loud groan, throwing your coffee cup in a nearby bin. "I'm so sorry-" "It's fine! Completely fine," You mutter to the idiot who bumped into you because his eyes was trained on a book.
You let out a deep sigh, checking your watch. You would be late if you turned back around to change. "Hey! Y/n!" You hear a voice call out from behind you. Turning your head you spot Oliver coming your way on his bike.
“Hey?” you greet him with a hint of confusion. Without a word, he unzips his backpack, pulling out a plaid shirt. “Wear this to cover the spill,” he suggests, a warm smile accompanying the gesture. You conceal any distaste with a subtle expression, graciously accepting the offered shirt.
“Uhm-” “Just return it later when you can,” he cuts you off, not giving you time to answer before riding off. You stand there, looking down at the plaid shirt, before letting out a sigh and slipping it on.
“Cute shirt, babe,” your boyfriend chuckles, and you respond with an eye roll, sitting down with a loud huff escaping your lips. “Don’t even. Some idiot bumped into me on the way here,” you mutter, opening your notebook aggressively.
Farleigh strolls in, joining the two of you, “Woah, loving the shirt, y/n. Where’d you get it from? The charity shop?” He jokes, prompting you to scowl at him. He raises his hands in surrender as Felix’s chuckles resonate beside you.
“Jesus, what’s got your panties tied up in a knot?” he laughs, taking a seat beside you while you choose to ignore him. Suddenly, Felix exclaims, “Oh, shit! Farleigh, we gotta go. Professor Davies wants to see us,” checking his watch before swiftly getting up.
Farleigh vents his frustration with a groan, “Sorry, babe. See you later?” Felix plants a kiss on your cheek, and you nod in response, waving the two boys off before redirecting your focus to the notebook in front of you.
“Hey,” you raise your head to find Oliver approaching. Flashing a warm smile, you greet him with a friendly, “Hi Oliver,” your attention briefly returning to your book as he stands there, exuding a hint of awkwardness.
“I’ll make sure to return your shirt once it’s washed,” you reassure him, receiving a silent nod in acknowledgment. Returning to your book, you shift your attention back to him, “Is there anything else you need?” He nervously scratches his neck. “Do you mind if I study with you?” His question catches you slightly off-guard.
“Absolutely, feel free,” you graciously respond, rearranging your belongings to create space for him to settle. A warm smile graces his face as he takes the offered seat, expressing gratitude with a simple “Thanks.” You reciprocate with a light chuckle, assuring him, “No problem at all.”
~
“He is such a nerd,” Farleigh snorts as you roll your eyes, your fingers moving to play with Felix’s necklace around his neck. Noticing your quietness, Felix looks at you on his lap. “You okay?” He says quietly as you hum, taking a sip out of his glass, before pressing your cheek against his, your eyes wandering around the table.
“I should probably go now, I don’t wanna study too late,” You let out a quiet sigh as you get up from your boyfriend’s lap. Felix lends a helping hand to adjust your skirt, smoothly guiding the denim down while playfully patting your ass, accompanied by a mischievous grin.
“Where are you going? It’s still so early!” Annabel shoots you a disapproving frown from across the table. “I really need to study for that test tomorrow,” you respond, the playful boos from others resonating as you playfully roll your eyes.
“Listen, I’ll buy the next round yeah?” Your offer is met with enthusiastic hoots as you chuckle. Rounds tend to be costly, especially with our group, but being part of a wealthy family, the expense doesn’t faze you.
Felix joins you in fetching the drinks before you wave at your group and make your exit. Outside, the cool night air embraces you as you walk down the stairs, and a twinge of regret sets in over your choice of attire.
Lost in thought, you accidentally collide with someone. Looking up, you find yourself face to face with Oliver, whose initial surprise transforms into recognition. “Oh, Oliver, hey,” you manage a smile, and he reciprocates it warmly.
“Hey. You headin’ back?” He gestures behind him with his thumb, and you nod, “Yeah, studying for that test we have tomorrow morning.” A chuckle escapes you as he nods, an awkward silence settling between the two of you.
“Is it, uh, busy in there?” Oliver speaks up. “Hm? Oh. Uhm, no, not really,” you shake your head. Another moment of silence follows. “Listen, Ollie, I should really get going,” you purse your lips as he moves aside. “Yeah, of course,” he offers you a warm smile, and you nod your head, walking away.
~
Over the course of the next couple days. Felix and Oliver had become very good friends. You would hear Felix’s recounts of his day when the two of you were entangled in each others arms and it always included Oliver.
The party rolled around and you found yourself dancing with Felix, your ass on his crotch as the two of you seamlessly moved to Sexyback.
With one hand cradling a red plastic cup filled with alcohol, and the other clasping a partially smoked cigarette, Felix guided your hips skillfully, his touch resting casually on your hipbone.
“You look so fuckin’ hot,” Felix exclaimed loudly over the music as you smirk to yourself, already abit tipsy. “Do you wanna go somewhere?” You reply back to him, turning around as he eagerly nods.
You giggle to yourself, knowing what the rest of the night would consist of. Fucking Felix. You stumbled as Felix pulled you along the house. “Fuck, these heels,” You moan in annoyance.
Eager to reach his dorm quicjly, Felix scooped you up in a bridal carry, one arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. A light squeal escaped you, drawing the attention of those around, their curious stares following the two of you.
The second he shut the door behind him, your clothes littered his room as he ravenously attacked your lips, his hands roaming around your body as you let out quiet moans, enjoying the way they groped every inch of your body.
Meanwhile, Oliver was roaming around the party, completely and utterly bored. He first wandered around looking for someone he knew, but that was only three people. You, Felix, and Michael. Michael wouldn’t even be there, so just you or Felix.
Acknowledging the fact that neither you or Felix were here, Oliver’s gaze fell on Farleigh at the other end of the room. With a joint in hand, reclining on the couch, Oliver decided to test his luck and headed in Farleigh’s direction.
“Do you know where Felix is?” Farleigh looks Oliver up and down before raising an eyebrow at him. “Why do you wanna know?” His tone was flat, bored from talking with Oliver already.
“Just wonderin’,” Oliver shrugged awkwardly. Farleigh, taking a long drag, nonchalantly answered, “He went back to his dorm, I think,” his tone uninterested as he flicked ash from his joint.
“Thanks,” Oliver nods his head before turning around. The walk to Felix’s dorm was all too familiar for him, often spending time there whenever he and Felix hung out.
He knocks on the door. No response. He knocked again. Still no response. Oliver then tried the door handle, twisting it only to find it unlocked. Opening the door with a loud creak as his eyes look around the dimly lit interior of Felix’s room.
“Felix-“ Oliver cuts himself off as he realises what he just walked in on. A feminine gasp reached his ears as he instinctively tried to avert his gaze. “For fuck’s sake, mate!” Felix’s irritated voice resonated, accompanied by the rustling of sheets in the room.
Felix quickly moves to cover the both of you as you screw your eyes shut. “Can’t you fuckin’ knock Ollie?” Felix exasperates as he slips on his boxers, his frame still covering you from Ollie’s eyes.
"Sorry, the door was unlocked, so I thought-" Oliver began, but Felix cut him off, "Yeah, well, you thought wrong," accompanied by an annoyed chuckle. You reached for Felix's shirt, slipping it on as you sat on the bed.
Oliver couldn't help but feel a twinge of curiosity at who Felix was fucking; there was no denying it. It couldn’t have been Annabel or India—two girls he's often heard talking about Felix as if they were together—both of them were at the party when he left. So who was it? “Seriously mate. If I don’t answer, I’m either not here or don’t want to answer,” Felix runs his hands through his hair.
He was very bothered that he was interrupted. Felix hated being interrupted in the middle of things. Especially sex with you. “Felix, it’s okay,” You rest your hand on his shoulder as he looks back at you.
Oliver's jaw hung open, frozen in a momentary state of shock, as your head playfully emerged beside Felix. His eyes widened as he tried to process the unexpected sight before him. A cascade of questions flooded his mind, evident in the incredulous expression on his face. "Hi, Ollie," you greeted with a light chuckle, amusement dancing in your eyes as you observed his stunned reaction.
The air seemed charged with a mixture of surprise and curiosity as Oliver stammered through his words, attempting to articulate the myriad of questions racing through his mind. "I- What- Are you two-" he fumbled, his sentences colliding in his attempt to understand the situation unfolding before him.
Felix, ever nonchalant, cut through the awkward tension with a matter-of-fact tone. "She's my girlfriend," he stated, his words hanging in the air. As if to emphasize the point, you casually moved to sit on Felix's lap.
A moment of stunned silence enveloped Oliver. Felix had a girlfriend, and it was you. The revelation hit him with unexpected force, leaving him momentarily breathless. Questions swirled in his mind, and he couldn't comprehend why no one had ever mentioned it before.
"Why do you look so shocked, Ollie?" Felix chuckled, a lighthearted tone in his voice, while you added to the teasing atmosphere with a playful giggle. You could practically sense Oliver's head spinning with the unasked questions, creating an intriguing air of mystery around the situation.
Oliver's eyebrows furrowed slightly, his expression a mix of confusion and surprise as he processed the unexpected pairing. He released a nonchalant shrug, attempting to mask the internal whirlwind of thoughts.
"No one’s ever said anything about it, I just assumed you both were single," he admitted, his eyes fixed on you and Felix. Oliver's head continued to shake in a subtle attempt to grasp the reality of you being in a relationship with Felix.
A faint smile played on your lips as you tilted your head at him, a touch of amusement in your gaze. "You never asked," you pointed out casually, your words hanging in the air. Oliver's lips formed a perfect 'O' as he absorbed the implication, silently nodding in acknowledgment.
The room was then engulfed in an awkward silence, the weight of unspoken words lingering in the atmosphere. Sensing the discomfort, Oliver took the initiative to break the tension. "Uhm, I should get going," he announced, his hand absently scratching the back of his head. Felix, understanding the unspoken cue, nodded in agreement. "Yeah, go ahead."
Oliver's lips pursed, his gaze flickering between you and Felix, caught in a moment of realization. With a slightly awkward smile, you innocently waved at him. "Bye, Ollie!" you chimed in a light-hearted manner, attempting to alleviate the awkwardness as he leaves the dorm.
Felix couldn't hide his amusement. "You really didn't tell him?" he asked, breaking the silence with a playful smile as he looked down at you. In response, you innocently shrugged. "I didn't think it was that necessary to bring it up, besides, he really never asked."
#felix catton#saltburn#felix catton saltburn#felix catton x reader#felix catton fanfic#felix catton imagine#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x you#saltburn fanfiction#saltburn x reader#saltburn 2023#felix catton x oliver quick#boyfriend!felix catton#oliver quick#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x you#jacob elordi x reader#oliver quick saltburn
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pairings. jungkook x bookworm!reader (f)
genres/aus. fluff, established relationship
warnings. jk loves calling reader ‘sweetheart’, mentions of reader’s anxiety, and a short kiss(makeout?) scene, not proofread!
notes. i actually loved writing the first drabble of jungkook x bookworm!reader and i can’t sleep and currently rewatching the twilight movies as im writing this so here’s this :D likes and reblogs are appreciated <33
[ masterlist ]
—
you can’t remember when you had told yourself, one more chapter. but apparently it’s been long considering it’s almost three in the morning. the ice in your coffee has melted into a smaller ice cube, so you take a big sip. not wanting the ice to water down the sweet, creamy taste.
coffee late at this hour doesn’t affect you no more. you drink it now for the taste more than anything. you can thank school and those tiring days of studying hunched over a table. the amount of energy drinks and coffee you’ve consumed should be concerning but you gotta do what you gotta do.
if jungkook was here, he would’ve had a fit and told you drinking caffeine at this hour is bad for you.
but he’s not. he’s at a late night practice and he told you he’s not sure he’ll be able to come over.
you have your two pillows propped up against your headboard, your book nuzzled against your thighs and your stuffed animal under your arm. your bedside lamp creating the perfect lighting for you to see and the perfect atmosphere.
you’re deep into your book, too engrossed in the plot between the love interests that you don’t hear keys jingle and a door softly shut and echo in the quiet night of your home.
you still don’t hear the soft feet padding towards your bedroom until your door opens, revealing your boyfriend.
he looks as if he’s freshly showered, the ends of his hair are damp and stringy, and his face is bare and cheeks a soft red. that’s how it looks after he finishes his skincare routine, he must have rushed over here.
he grins when he sees you’re awake and so do you when you see him, placing your bookmark inside and setting it down next to you. you sit up on your knees, eager to touch him and kiss him, realizing again how much you miss him despite seeing him this morning. that was almost 24 hours ago.
but his eyes maneuver to the coffee that’s condensing, making a puddle on the coaster.
he squints his eyes at you. and it feels almost as if you’ve been caught as a child. you lower yourself to sit on the back of your shins.
“hi kookie,” you smile, acting innocent.
“don’t kookie me. how many times have i told you to stop drinking coffee so late, it’s almost three. you’re not gonna sleep.” he tells you again, sternly. reaching behind his neck to take off his crewneck in one swift movement, the shirt underneath scrunches up with the sweater, revealing his abs. and you can’t help but ogle while you’re being scolded. you can’t blame me.
you frown, “i know, i know. but you know reading and drinking coffee goes hand in hand. i wanted to enjoy reading my book and–“
he moves towards you, placing his knee on the foot of the bed, crawling shortly til he reaches you. his nose brushing yours and his eyes half-lidded. the soft scent of his shampoo and brief smell of mint swallows you, bringing that familiar comfort.
“sweetheart, i know. but caffeine also doesn’t mesh well with your anxiety. you know that. it’s fine to drink it once or twice during the day but late at night is a no.” he softly warns, tilting his chin upwards to catch your lips with his.
it was meant to be a quick kiss but your fingers reach to hold his face, tugging him closer to you until you’re lying on your back and he’s on top. his hands placed on both sides of your head, caging you in, straddling you. both your hands trail its way down from his neck down to his chest, stomach and then they find its home at his waist. pulling him down til his front weighs pressure on your sensitive spot.
both of you moan into the kiss, and your sweet sound sends an alert to jungkook. before you both get carried away, he pulls back, kissing you once more before pulling away.
he hums, deliciously. “though coffee does taste best coming from you.” he gazed at you, eyes shining and lips slightly red. no doubt, you look the same.
“i thought you weren’t coming tonight.” you say questioningly, watching him move your book next to your coffee so he can lie underneath the covers with you. once he’s settled in, he has an arm resting behind his head and the other resting around you.
“i wasn’t, but i really wanted to sleep with you and i wanna make you breakfast in the morning. i saw a recipe i wanna try.” you hum in response, trying to nuzzle your head deeper into his warmth but his t-shirt is blocking what you want.
you tug at his shirt without saying anything and he understands. he sits up quickly to shrug off the fabric, tossing it across the room to land beside his bag before lying back down, holding you.
he lets out a dramatic sigh, “ahh, this is my favorite thing in the world.” turning on his side, you following so you’re both facing each other, legs tangled together.
“i missed you too.” you whispered. he didn’t say it but he didn’t have to, his answer was enough.
your head nestled underneath his chin and against his chest, you kiss the skin.
“what chapter are you on?” he asks, his voice deeper than it was, slumber almost taking over him.
“twenty-eight, i’m almost done with it.”
he hums. “did you start the book today?”
he feels you nod. “my little bookworm.” he coos, scratching your back softly with the tips of his fingers. “go to sleep, sweetheart.”
and you do.
#twilghtkoo#jeon jungkook#jungkook#jungkook drabble#jungkook scenarios#jungkook fic#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#boyfriend!jungkook#bts fluff#bts drabble#bts jungkook#bts scenarios
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another chance
words: 2.3k
warnings: 18+ only, smut, ex!bf rafe, female receiving oral, p in v sex, unprotected sex, drinking/partying, mentions of drugs
“have you noticed his new girl is y/n’s twin?” kelce whispers to topper, who just nods in response. rafe claims that he’s completely over you, that he’s glad you broke up with him and he’s not harboring any sort of resentment over the fact that you left him.
“its so weird.” kelce continues, taking a sip of his drink, watching as rafe holds the new girl around the waist, but he barely looks at her, like if he keeps her in his peripheral vision that he can pretend its you, instead of the first girl he found whose features resemble yours.
“hes getting fucked up all the time now too. he showed up for golf the other day completely strung out.” topper informs kelce, who frowns.
they both know that there is nothing they can do, they don’t want to force you to get back with rafe if you don’t want to, especially with the state he’s in. rafe grabs the bottle of booze he was pouring into his cup repeatedly, forgoing the plastic solo cup in favor of drinking straight out of the bottle.
“rafey, are you gonna take me up to your bed?” the girl asks, no so subtly begging to be fucked by him.
“don’t call me that.” rafe grunts. only you can call him by that nickname, even if you did break his heart.
“are you going to fuck me or not, cameron?” she questions.
“not.” rafe says honestly. he thought it would help, to get it out of his system, to take a new girl to bed, but when he tried to kiss someone at the first party he attended after you, it made him so sick he had to leave. she didn’t look like you, she didn’t smell like you, she didn’t act like you. she wasn’t what rafe wanted.
“fine, then im leaving.” the girl stomps away, like anything could compare to you leaving. rafe finishes the rest of the bottle before flopping down on the couch, letting the alcohol flowing through his system lull him into unconsciousness.
--
“you deserve to go out and party as much as he does y/n.” stephanie sighs, trying to convince you to join her tonight at the huge beach bash, but you don’t want to risk running into rafe.
“i know, i just don't want to see him with another girl.” you sigh. you may have been the one to break it off with rafe, but you weren't fully over him yet.
“maybe you need to get with one of the turons.” stephanie shrugs. “you know what they say, to get over you gotta get under…”
“that actually might not be a bad idea.” you admit. maybe it's what you need to get rafe out of your system. a random hookup with someone you'll never see again to erase the memory of his touch from your body.
“so does that mean you're coming?” stephanie asks hopefully.
you nod, already planning what you're going to where tonight. “it does.”
--
“shit, remind me to take you out for ice cream or something to thank you for convincing me to come out tonight.” you tell stephanie, stumbling away from the main dance area with your best friend.
“girl, i knew you needed this!” she exclaims, taking a sip of her cup before frowning, realizing it's empty.
“ill go get us refills, hold on.” you are a lot less drunk than stephanie, so you guide her to sit down before heading to find more alcohol to fill both your cups, wanting to enjoy tonight as much as possible.
you finally find a plastic folding table with some bottles on it, and quickly refill both your drinks before turning, gasping when you run right into someone.
“y/n.” rafe gasps out, his eyes bloodshot like he's been crying. he drops to his knees before before you, making you raise your eyebrows. “i miss you so much. please take me back, ill do anything, ill-” rafe begins to beg, his words slurred as it's obvious he's been drinking.
“rafe.” you cut him off eventually. rafe stops speaking, hands coming to rest on the back of your calves as he looks up at you with pleading eyes. “you're drunk.”
“no, no, no.” rafes head drops, leaning to press kisses along your knees. “im drunk but im serious. please, just give me another chance, ill do anything.”
you frown, hating seeing rafe this way. you broke up with him because you thought he spent too much time getting high and needed to get control of his temper, and didn't know what you could do to help that beside let him work through it by himself.
“anything, y/n.” rafe continues, his hands gripping your legs so tightly. you glance up, looking at all the people at the party staring at you, probably shocked that rafe would get on his knees and beg for anyone to come back.
“you need to stop doing drugs as often.” you state to rafe, making sure to keep your voice low enough to not have it in earshot. “and you gotta work on not getting so angry at the pogues. i don't care that you hate them but you can't constantly be getting into fights.”
“done.” rafe says, nodding his head. “i just need you. ive been a mess without you.”
“we can give it another shot.” you say, and rafes shoots to his feet, his lips pressing against yours. you set the cups down on the table next to you before kissing back, hearing a smattering of whoops and cheers as you make out, your head turning dizzy like the alcohol on rafes tongue is affecting your own.
“i need you, please.” rafe says, and you know exactly what he's asking for. it's what you've been desperately craving from him as well. your bodies were beyond compatible, and you know no boy would compare, so even in the period that you were broken up, you didn't even bother trying to sleep with anyone.
“i have to find stephanie.” you tell rafe, knowing you need to check your friend is good before doing anything, but you loop your fingers through rafes and tug him behind you until you get back to the main dance area, seeing topper with his arm slung around stephanies waist while she grinds against him.
“see she's good.” rafe says, his voice husky, and you know that he's already getting turned on just from the thought of having you again.
you let rafe lead you to his truck, parked in a somewhat isolated spot, but you don't care at this point if people see you as you both climb into the back seat.
“thank you for giving me another chance.” rafe says, his eyes shiny in the low lighting. “i missed you so much. i was such a wreck, but i didn't sleep with anyone else even though we were broken up. i only wanted you.”
“rafe.” you coo, pressing your lips against his, stroking your fingertips over his jaw. “i missed you too.”
“wanna show you how much it means to me.” rafe says, guiding you backwards until your back is against the seat. “that you're giving me a second chance.” his lips skim over yours before he moves lower, schooching down the seat until he's resting between your legs. he takes the bottom of your skirt and pushes it up, revealing your panties.
“you really do gotta-” your speech is cut off with a gasp when rafe presses his lips against your underwear, kissing your cunt through the fabric.
“gotta what baby?” rafe asks, moving to kiss along your thighs as well, his teeth occasionally making an appearance as he drags them against your skin, nipping when you open your mouth to reply.
“gotta get your shit together since im giving you a second chance.” you finally finish your sentence.
“oh, i will baby.” rafe says, rubbing his fingertip over your center, smirking to himself when he sees the fabric dampened with your wetness. “i went so crazy without you, id do anything to not lose you again.”
“take them off, please.” you whine. rafe tugs at your panties, sliding them down your legs until he has to guide them over your heels. he takes the material and scrunches it up, tossing it onto his drivers seat. “i’m keeping those.” he informs you.
“whatever.” you roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile, reaching down to rub your thumb against his cheekbone.
rafe sighs with relief into your touch, leaning his head against your hand. “i’ve missed your taste.” he licks his lips, eyes on your core.
you spread your legs as much as you can in the back of the truck, wishing momentarily that you were having this reunion in a bed, but you know rafe wouldn’t be able to wait that long.
rafe doesn’t hesitate to lean forward, burying his head between your legs. his wide tongue flicks through your folds, licking over your cunt before swirling around your clit.
“god, you’re so good at this.” you moan out, moving your hand to rafes hair, taking the strands between your fingers to keep his face shoved into your cunt, not that he plans on stopping any time soon.
rafe sucks at your clit, feeling rewarded by coaxing moans out of you. his hands grip your thighs, squeezing your delicate flesh between his fingertips.
rafe moves his mouth lower, letting out obscene sounds as he slurps the wetness away from your hole before pushing his tongue against the ring of muscle. he begins to thrust immediately, pushing his tongue in and out of your entrance, giving you the first stimulation you’ve had since you broke up.
“the sweetest taste.” rafe says when he pulls away slightly to kiss along your inner thighs. “i don’t know how i lived without it.”
“you know what my plan was for tonight?” you hum, needing more from rafe, even as his mouth drops back around your clit. “to get with a random turon to help myself get over you.”
you feel rafe pause, his entire body stilling before his eyes raise to make contact with yours. “you were going to sleep with someone else?”
“i couldn’t get over you, i had to do something.” you say, knowing exactly what rafes reaction will be as he rises, wanting to draw that fire and passion out in him. it didn’t matter that you were the one who broke up with rafe, you thought at the time it would be better for both of you, but now you know you can’t live without him.
rafe moves quickly, his strong hands gripping your hips and turning you over. you quickly adjust, pushing up on your elbows as you place your knees on the seat, arching your back to show off your cunt.
rafe releases himself from his shorts, tugging them down his thighs before he lines himself up, sinking in with one quick stroke. your walls meld to his cock, still feeling like you were made for him.
“imagining me sleeping with another guy has really got you worked up, huh?” you question, breath coming out in a pant as rafe instantly begins to thrust.
“shut up.” rafe groans, hips snapping forward into yours. “you’re mine. you’re never leaving me again.”
“yeah?” you question, bringing your ass back to meet rafes thrusts. “gonna get clean for me? gonna get it together?”
“anything for you.” rafe vows, glancing out the windows to make sure no one is looking as he takes you from behind, not that they would be able to see through the tint anyways.
you moan as rafe grabs your ass, relieved to finally have him inside of you again as his cock repeatedly enters you. rafe knows he can’t last very long, having been so desperate for you that he can’t hold himself back as your cunt clenches around him.
“feels so good rafey.” you whine.
“call me that again.” rafe says, needing to hear the nickname slip from between your lips again.
“rafey.” you call out. rafe flips you yet again, this time onto your back as he immediately reenters you, moving too fast for you to comprehend until his mouth is pressed against yours in a searing kiss.
“again, please.” rafe mumbles against your lips, bringing a hand to your clit and rubbing it with his thumb as he thrusts rapidly, knowing your next moan is going to send him over the edge.
you place your hands on the back of his head, giving him a strong kiss as he plays with your clit, your orgasm building as well. you pull away when you can’t hold back the moan anymore, “oh god, yes, rafey.”
rafe groans, burying his head in your shoulder as he cums, pumping into you throughout his high as his thumb finally brings you to orgasm as well, clit pulsing as you both pant, letting out low moans and groans as your bodies come down.
rafe presses kisses to your cheeks, your jaw slackened open, still recovering. “i’ve missed your pussy so much.” rafe says before looking down, watching himself pull out.
“come here.” you whine, hating that he’s pulled away. rafe quickly tucks himself back into his pants before hovering over your body again, cuddling into your shoulder. it’s an awkward position, legs askew and body parts pressing against the doors of the truck.
“can i take you home? i want to hold you while i sleep, make sure i don’t let you go again.” rafe says, willing to beg if he needs to.
“of course.” you stretch out your sore muscles, eyelids already feeling heavy, but you know you just have to wait for rafe to drive you home before you can sleep.
it’s not awkward despite the time away from each other as you move to the front seat, making sure to text stephanie, who quickly responds with a picture of herself in toppers bed, making you giggle.
“i love you.” rafe blurts out, unable to not tell you when hearing your laugh.
“i love you too.” you lean over to kiss rafe on the cheek as he drives you back to his house, but you are already home as his fingers link with yours.
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#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#obx smut#outer banks smut#rafe fanfic#rafe fic#rafe x reader#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron imagines#rafe cameron blurb#rafe cameron fluff
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She’s WHOSE daughter?? || LN4
lando norris x webber!reader
summary: After finding out who your father is, Lando needs some time for himself to think about everything. Oscar is more than willing to help make things right between you.
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 5
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Part 4
dad: What’s going on with you and Lando?
You: What do you mean?
dad: Your Instagram
dad: And I saw you in the paddock together
dad: That hug looked a little too intimate for friends
You swallowed hard before turning your phone off, chosing to ignore the messages and focus on Lando who just walked back into the garage, the debrief was done.
"We gotta talk", he stated, pushing his hands in the pocket of his hoodie.
You nodded, wanting to follow him back up to his driver’s room when suddenly an all too familiar voice called your name.
"Y/n, don’t you think you should introduce us?", your father asked, sitting at one of the tables with Oscar’s parents. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at your father’s teasing. Lando and him knew each other, obviously they’ve seen each other quite a few times in the paddock, especially because he was Oscar’s manager.
"Y/n, sweetheart, how are you doing?", Oscar’s mum asked with a genuine smile, making a small smile appear on your face as well as you replied.
"I’m good, thank you."
Lando eyed you from the side as you stepped closer to your father.
"Dad, Lando. Lando, my dad", you dryly spoke. Lando’s eyes went from you to your dad, giving him a small smile and a nod before looking back at you. "If you excuse us but we have to go", you said, waving at Oscar’s parents and turning your back to the table.
You waited on the couch while Lando closed the door to his driver room.
"Why didn’t you tell me?", he immediately questioned, leaning against the locked door. "I never tell people about my father because it happened too often that they weren’t there for me but for him", you started, fiddling with your hands.
"Not me and I thought you would have figured that. I knew your father, I’ve met him a few times", Lando argued. "What was I supposed to say, Lando?", you raised your voice a little. "We met in Bahrain but didn’t have much contact after that until this week, I couldn’t just go like 'Oh and by the way Mark Webber is my dad'!"
"You could’ve told me", he muttered quietly. "You could’ve told me in Bahrain when I asked about how you know Daniel or at the beach when I asked about your dad’s work."
"It just never felt right", you tried to defend yourself. "Bahrain was just too early and at the beach I sort of panicked, I don’t know", you muttered, realizing you really didn’t know why you haven’t told him until now.
"I need some time", Lando said after a few moments. You nodded and watched as he unlocked the door, leaving the room and probably the track for the day.
*~**~*
"So, what made Lando storm out of here like that?", your dad asked when you gathered yourself and finally made your way downstairs.
"I don’t wanna walk about it", you grumbled, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Just then Oscar walked down the stairs, his eyes widened when he spotted you. "Princess, I’m sorry! I really am!", he immediately said, walking closer to you.
"I didn’t know that he didn’t know but I should have known and I’m sorry", your best friend apologized and wrapped you in a hug. "Don’t be, Oscar. It’s my fault anyway. I should’ve told him. I don’t know why I didn’t", you muttered, your voice sounding muffled from being pressed into Oscar’s shoulder.
"Still. I feel bad", he huffed, pulling back from the hug to look at you. "Where is he?"
You shrugged and looked away from Oscar. "I don’t know, probably went back to the hotel", you replied. "Mark how long do you plan on staying because I could take Y/n back to her hotel", he then turned to your father.
"Oh, I was actually just waiting for her", your dad replied, standing up from the table. "You ready?"
You nodded and turned around to Oscar’s parents, saying goodbye and telling them to meet again tomorrow at the race.
Oscar gave you another tight hug before waving at your dad and letting the two of you go.
"You ready to go as well?", Lily asked, grabbing his hand. Oscar nodded. "Yeah but I need to make a quick stop somewhere before we go home."
*~**~*
Just thirty minutes later, Oscar knocked on the door of one of Hilton’s hotel rooms.
"What on earth are you doing here? I thought you sleep at home", Lando muttered when he opened the door and saw his teammate standing there.
"Let me in?", Oscar just asked, lifting one eyebrow. Lando nodded silently and took a step to the side to let Oscar enter the room.
"She’s really sorry", he spoke as soon as the door had closed. Lando shut his eyes and crossed his arms. "Please, Oscar-"
"She knows she screwed up and said herself she doesn’t actually know or have reasons why she didn’t tell you", Oscar ignored his teammates protest. "She’s never been good with trusting people, so many having screwed her over just to get a chance to meet her dad-" "But I know her dad-" "And that left scars", Oscar continued. "She went into panic mode when you asked about her dad. She never likes being associated with him. She loves him to death but hates it when someone brings him up when talking about her achievements, or in general, when talking about her. She doesn’t just want to be Mark Webber’s daughter but her own person and she really really likes you!"
Lando stayed silent for a moment.
"Talk to her, please?", Oscar then quietly asked, searching for anything in Lando’s eyes that would give him some sort of confirmation.
The British driver blinked a few times, uncrossed his arms and took a deep sigh. "I will, tomorrow", he muttered, bringing a smile to Oscar’s face.
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#lando norris#mclaren#f1#landoscar#dando#landan#daniel ricciardo#oscar piastri#mark webber#ln4#quadrant#lando norris fluff#lando norris imagine#lando norris one shot#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader
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Kyojuro Rengoku x Boobs
No one asked for this but sometimes you've just gotta do things for yourself.
NSFW beneath the cut
Oh goodness
Oh gosh.
The first time he sees you his poor brain short circuits.
He just stares
Not at your chest. No he cannot look at that, his head will explode.
Just at the air above your head; smiling and unblinking.
The other hashira definitely notice. Tengen definitely teases him about it.
"You okay there, buddy?"
"YES!"
"You sure? You're looking a little flustered."
"I'M FINE!"
"Hmm... you look like you could use a lie down... I know where you can find a couple of pillows to lay your head on..."
*chokes*
When your relationship becomes intimate though...
The first time he sees them unclothed the poor man can hardly breathe.
You have to tell him he can touch them, he's too flustered to ask.
Such strong sturdy hands trembling as he holds them.
So, so gentle with you.
Constantly checking your facial expressions to make sure he's doing well.
"May I kiss them?"
You have to assure him he can do whatever he likes.
Kisses them exactly as he kisses your lips; slowly, deeply, sighing softly as his tongue deftly circles your nipple.
He looks so pretty when he's sucking your tits, so serene.
Let's face it, Kyojuro is happiest when his mouth is full.
He's smitten. He'll lie there beside you sucking and licking your nipples for as long as you let him.
Every moan or whimper which emerges from your lips makes his cock twitch.
Sometimes after missions he'll just lie with his head on your chest, loving your warmth and softness.
And when you titty fuck this man...
he is a blushing mess, biting the back of his arm, toes curling, hair sticking to his forehead.
The image of his cock pumping between your breasts
And the first time he saw his cum glistening on them
it turned him on so much he immediately went for round 2.
That was the first time you heard him say "fuck"
Actually, it was more of a throaty, breathless "ffffuck!"
Loves to massage them. He bought oil.
Has you sit between his legs with your back to his chest
Those big, strong hands just lovingly caressing your oiled up breasts as he whispers praises and compliments into your ear.
"You're so beautiful, so perfect. I'll cherish you forever."
And he really will.
#rengoku x reader#rengoku kyoujurou x reader#kimetsu kyojuro#kimetsu rengoku#rengoku fanfic#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku kyōjurō#rengoku headcanons
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Sleepwalkin'
written for @steddiemicrofic april prompt ‘fool’ wc: 454 | rated: T | cw: implied sexual content | read on ao3
🛌🛌🛌
Eddie stirs at the sound of shuffling footsteps and gets jolted awake as Steve drops face-first onto the bed.
"Mhmph. Where've you been?"
"Sleepwalkin'."
"Do anything fun?"
"I got into bed with Wayne." He mumbles into the pillow.
"Wait. What?!" Eddie sits up with a crazed grin, suddenly wide awake, "Steve, sweetheart, that's fucking hilarious."
"Yeah, Wayne thought so too," He rolls onto his side to face Eddie," I, on the other hand, am slightly mortified."
"Baby, I'm sorry but that is actually so funny. What did he say when he woke you up?"
"That's the thing! He didn't! So I obviously woke him up when I, y'know crawled into his bed and cuddled up to him-"
"You cuddled him?! Stevie, be careful, that's the most action he's gotten in years, he's gonna fall in love with you!"
"Fuck off," He reaches across to slap Eddie's shoulder, "Anyway, he just left me to sleep! I woke up to him snoring with his arm around me, and I was so fucking confused."
"How long were you there? I woke up earlier and you were gone but I just thought you were in the bathroom or something. Didn’t realise you’d deserted me."
"Probably like half the fucking night. I went back to sleep after I’d woken up because his bed’s comfier than yours. I only came back in because he went to work and I got cold."
"Is a bed warmer all I am to you, Stevie?" Eddie pouted, "I thought you loved me for my wit and charm and dashingly good looks, not because I keep you toasty."
"I love you for many reasons, including how warm you run, but if you don't like it," Steve shrugged, "I guess I'll have to go to Wayne next time I'm cold. I'm sure he'll warm me up."
"Please don't leave me for my Uncle."
"Well, you better give me a good reason to stay then."
"Nobody can go down on you as well as I can."
"Oh really? Might have to let you prove that you’re the best then."
Eddie just smirks as he slides down the bed.
—
Wayne’s just gotten home from work when Eddie clears his throat and nudges Steve in the ribs.
"Stevie. Don’t you have something to say to Wayne?"
"Huh? Oh, right," Steve looks at Wayne as sincerely as he can possibly manage right now, "I’m so sorry, Wayne, but we were fools to think it’d work out between us. I’ll never forget our wonderful night together though."
"Well shucks, son, you’re breakin’ my dang heart here but I guess I just gotta move on," Wayne gives Steve a wink, "You know where to find me if you change ya mind."
#i worked very hard to squeeze in the joke prompt words in this lmao#steve harrington#eddie munson#wayne munson#uncle wayne#uncle wayne my beloved#steddie#steve x eddie#stranger things#steddiemicrofic#steddiemicroficapril#bigboywrites#mine
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