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isagisyoichi · 3 years

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YOU MAKE ME FEEL SPECIAL!

SYNOPSIS: niko as your boyfriend

CHARACTERS INCLUDED: niko ikki aka my boyfriend hello

WARNINGS: swearing, pretend all the boys go to the same school and they're all friends for plot, normalize not writing serious boys as someone that practically hates their s/o and never opens up to them god bless, also no such thing as ooc since we dunno shit ab him so everything i say is law. SUPER LONG LOL, it's like 2k+ words 😭

A/N: i love my boyfriend and i'm v happy about all the attention he's getting (even if he will prob will b subbed out 👎) this was fun to write bc i think he would b very soft as bf and also i hate the notion that stoic and serious = boring and detached in a relationship. also first post w the new user yayyyy rip yoichisagis an end of an era for realsies.

FOR: fox anon my beloved this one is for u😩

it takes a while for you two to get together, just because niko wants to think things through and be sure he’s making the right decision, as well as him being naturally apprehensive about this whole dating thing.

when you do eventually start going out, keep in mind you're probably his first real anything, so-

niko needs to take it slow for the first month or so because he needs time to adjust and get used to being in a relationship.

when he gets comfortable around you, niko starts to talk a lot more.

niko starts to talk about his interests more-soccer, stem stuff (idc i'll die by my hc that he's a stem boy), etc. and niko's really happy that you're genuinely interested in what he has to say :)

and as your relationship progresses, niko becomes more inclined to share his inner thoughts.

“this song is so bad, i hate it and how it's everywhere,” like, babe that sucks, but what do you want me to do, take it off the radio myself? 😭

you find out that niko’s kind of a hater LOL, but it’s okay, because it means he can be himself around you <3 and the mini debates you have with each other are fun.

he’s someone you can take shopping with you if you need a solid second opinion.

“ikki, is this cute?” you niko as you adjust the shirt you tried on in the fitting room mirror.

“no.” he’s so straight up LOL. “the blue one from earlier was better.”

“this one?”

“yeah, that one. you look really pretty in it.”

ngl though, niko’s not much of a mall person. he'd just follow you around like a little puppy LOL, but he doesn't mind too much because it's for you.

communication is important to niko!!!!! he wants someone that he can have real conversation about the things that matter to him, so he rly makes an effort to have that kind of connection with you.

niko's naturally funny but he isn't aware that he is lol.

but when he does try, i feel like his humor comes in the form of sarcasm and dry wit. likes poking fun at you here and there with a lighthearted jab.

"you're so weird, y/n," is the most common one.

niko’s naturally closed off emotionally (male aquarius 😒) but i, personally, think he’d really try and push himself to be more open with you, especially if you expressed for him to do so </3

he'd be really appreciative of someone patient and understanding of the fact that he doesn't open up easily, though.

but eventually, you become the person closest to him- niko confides in you a lot, which he’s grateful for because he usually holds everything in.

not one for pda or other lovey-dovey things in public, other than the occasional holding of hands but behind closed doors, niko’s so soft around you, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

also, i feel like niko’s real handsy with you, i get the vibe he’s super touch starved 😭

although it does take him a while to get used to physical affection, once he has, niko cannot get enough. he’s always touching you when he has no real reason to.

(and because you're his first relationship, i feel like it’s just natural that niko’s going to be kind of clingy towards you.)

“you okay, ikki?” you ask as niko suddenly wraps his arms around your waist from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“mhm,” he mumbles. “just wanna be close to you.”

niko likes when you sit on his lap when he’s on his computer. you can have your arms wrapped around his neck, your head resting in the crook of his neck, or you could just be on your phone or whatever, it doesn’t matter, niko just likes you near him.

you guys don’t really talk to each other when you do this, aside from niko occasionally checking up on you and asking if you need anything from him.

but other than that, you guys just enjoy each other's touch in silence. it’s one of his favorite things to do with you.

however, if you start kissing him in the middle of whatever he’s doing and keep it up for long enough, niko will drop everything to make out with you right then and there (also one of his favorite things to do with you).

speaking of kissing- you kiss niko first.

niko would try to plan your guys first kiss out because he wants everything to be perfect.

but, he ends up taking forever to execute it because he keeps overthinking and you can only wait so long before kissing him, so you take matters into your own hands.

his kisses are sloppy and juvenile at the beginning, but he’s smart and learns quickly what you do and don’t like.

likes being kissed on his jaw and forehead the most :')

if the team ever happens to see niko kissing you, they're gonna be so annoying 😭

"yooo niko's making big moves ‼️" "my son's growing up on me!😩" "good job *pats on the back*" and niko is red all over as he drags you away from them, muttering about how childish and annoying they are 😭.

but, they're all very supportive of you guys, even if they're embarrassing as hell 🙄.

they even give niko relationship advice- which luckily, he doesn’t follow (most of the time), because, let’s be honest, if you're getting unsolicited dating tips from a bunch of teenage boys, it’s probably bad 😭.

you’re the only person niko shows his forehead to. just know that having the opportunity to see it means that niko trusts you more than anyone else :’)

repay his trust by kissing his forehead lovingly and showering him with compliments whenever you can !!!!!!!!!!

“y/n, why’re you so embarrassing,” niko says under his breath, blushing as you hold his face and litter soft kisses on his forehead, rambling about how cute he is.

always looks for you in the bleachers when he has a game and you’re always the first person he talks to after.

and the fact that you make an effort to come as often as you can means sooo much to him. definitely considers you to be his biggest fan.

real classy with nicknames- uses “my love/love,” and “darling,” the most.

his favorite petname from you is "pretty boy." gives him butterflies each time he hears it.

the first time you call him that, he's confused, but after you explain that being called pretty is basically the highest compliment a boy can receive, he gets all soft on you.

only uses instagram to like and comment on your pictures and that's it 😭.

comments stuff like “you're so pretty” and "beautiful," without any emojis because niko refuses to use them LOL.

remembers the compliments you give him! they help with his self esteem and i feel like he values your opinion a lot.

so, tell him all about how cute and smart and talented and hot and funny he is and how much you love him and he'll replay it in his head 24/7.

i think he prefers to be the big spoon, unless he's sad- then he really wants you to hold him.

niko gives me homebody vibes, so expect relaxed dates, but still nice, yk?

what i mean is niko's not gonna take you out to get gas station food and call it a day 😭 he's classier than that and he always puts in effort towards dates.

he always plans them ahead of time and takes into consideration what he thinks you'd enjoy. and he insists on paying 🤗.

but, niko always does something special for days like your birthday or an anniversary, like go somewhere fancy if you wanted to or buy a nice gift you've been eyeing for a while.

helps you with your schoolwork, 100%. most of the time niko tutors you because he wants you to actually learn the material, but if you're feeling lazy and just wanna get it over with, niko will just give you the answers.

this is a big deal because i love him and all but, niko gives me the vibe he's super stingy with his work 😭.

"this is the last time i'm going to just give you the answers, y/n." niko sighs out. "you have to start doing your homework by yourself."

niko's said that dozen of times but he's still giving you the answers free of charge. can you guys say #whipped 🤣?

LOL speaking of school, if you ever text him during class, i highly doubt that niko would entertain you 😭😭 (it's out of love, though)

y/n 💗: hiii baby imy 🥰

pretty boy: do your work, y/n.

y/n 💗: ALL I DID WAS SAY HI

pretty boy: pay attention.

y/n 💗: fine ur so lame 👎

pretty boy: whatever you say. i miss you too, by the way.

he likes to moves your hair out your face because he wants to see your pretty face better.

which is why you have to do the same with him 🥰!!!!!! makes him blush like crazy.

gets soooo soft when you post him or even take pictures of you and him together :') just the thought of you wanting to show him off makes him soooo happy.

he won't entertain you if you make a tiktok, though LOL. he's very stubborn in his belief that it's stupid.

just stands in the background with his arms crossed if you try to make him do a dance or something 😭 (he does think you look cute, though).

niko has such nice eyelashes but i doubt he's aware of it 'cause he's, y'know, a boy 🙄.

"my eyelashes are ... cute?" he questions. niko wasn't even aware that such a trivial thing like his eyelashes could be considered cute.

"yes, oh my god," you gush. "they're so long and nice, i wish mine were like that," you groan, examining yours through the camera of your phone.

"you're so weird, y/n," he says, a blush staining his cheeks. "your eyelashes are nicer," he mumbles as he kisses your forehead.

he's one of those people that prefers to be alone, but you're the exception. you know?

niko likes to keep to himself most of the time, but that whole thing doesn't apply to you, because he'd choose to be with you over being alone anytime :')

#THIS WAS SO LONG CHRKST #ilysmni i love you so much niko ikki #not a dating hc but i really thinkche has the kind of headphones that tsukki has 💀💀💀#niko ikki #niko ikki x reader #niko x reader #blue lock #bllk x reader #bllk #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagine #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #niko ikki headcanons #niko ikki imagine #ikki niko #ikki niko x reader #bllk imagines

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iamwestiec · 3 years

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June 17: Chengxian 💜🖤💕

childhood friends to lovers/QPPs, ace Jiang Cheng, bi & aro Wei Wuxian, modern AU

(A/N: If you're wondering about a certain other someone, he will have a wonderful, full life of his own in Suzhou in this AU but is not in this story. 💙 There are some brief mentions of offscreen ace-antagonism, not by anyone we know.)

Read on ao3

Jiang Cheng had been Wei Ying's best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

Okay. Well, not quite his entire life, but certainly since Wei Ying’s parents moved to California when he was little little, which was about as far back as Wei Ying could remember anyway. Wei Ying’s baba and Jiang Cheng’s baba had grown up in Wuhan together and been best friends when they were kids, so naturally, when Wei Ying’s family moved into the same neighborhood as the Jiangs, it made perfect sense for Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng to become best friends too.

It was Jiang Cheng who had taught Wei Ying that he didn't have to be afraid of dogs, by introducing him to Princess, Jasmine, and Lil' Love. Lil' Love lived up to her name, coming and quietly sitting in all her fluffy glory on Wei Ying’s lap every time he went over to play.

It was also Jiang Cheng who Wei Ying got drunk with for the first time. They snuck booze from the cabinet where Wei Ying’s parents kept it and laughed at the faces each other made with every shot until they stopped tasting the harsh burn, and then laughing more just because.

(Wei Ying’s mom had not laughed, not at the time, when the two teens had been sick as anything the next morning, but instead made them a gloriously greasy late breakfast and gave them lots of advice about proper hydration.

Then she told Jiang Cheng’s mom and let her scold them.)

It was Jiang Cheng who came out first, their first semester in college, when he told Wei Ying he didn't think he wanted to have sex with anyone, ever, and asked if Wei Ying thought that meant no one would ever want to date him. Wei Ying hugged him tight and told him he didn't know about everyone out there, but he knew Jiang Cheng was the best guy in the world and would be an awesome boyfriend, and he'd fight anyone who said differently.

Jiang Cheng found a group on campus for third culture LBGT kids, and Wei Ying went with him, as a supportive ally.

Which was how Wei Ying figured out that he was not just a supportive ally.

In listening to the others talk about orientation and identity and attraction and cultural expectations, Wei Ying realized that what he'd always assumed was normal—finding all kinds of people physically attractive, regardless of their gender—was actually his bisexuality. So that was kind of cool.

"So yeah, now we can be queer together!" Wei Ying said, when he excitedly shared his newfound realization with Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng snorted. "Yeah, 'all' and 'nothing,'" he joked.

It was Jiang Cheng who'd helped him practice what to say to his parents when he wanted to change his major at the end of sophomore year, and Jiang Cheng who reminded him to eat and sleep and "take a fucking break, Wei Ying," those next couple semesters when he took way too many hours so he wouldn't have to rack up a whole extra year's worth of student loans to finish his new degree plan.

It was Jiang Cheng who graduated first, on a gorgeous blue-skyed sunny day in May, and Jiang Cheng who suggested Wei Ying keep living with him at his new apartment, so he wouldn't have to try to find a one-semester lease until he finished in December.

(They renewed the lease together every time.)

Jiang Cheng ribbed him playfully each time Wei Ying met someone new, but he was always there each times things fizzled out after a few months for reasons that never quite made sense to Wei Ying.

Jiang Cheng occasionally dated too, and Wei Ying was glad he never did have to fight anybody—though he did drive Jiang Cheng to the emergency room the time he came home with split knuckles from punching a guy who, "seemed to think I didn't know my own mind about certain things."

But dating sucked for everybody, right? It wasn't like Wei Ying or Jiang Cheng were in any hurry to settle down and do the whole spouse and kids thing or whatever. Wei Ying tried to imagine it and just... couldn't, though the image of Jiang Cheng with a baby was admittedly pretty cute.

It was not Jiang Cheng, but Jiang Yanli, a few months after she proposed to her girlfriend and they started planning their wedding, who Wei Ying finally asked, "Yanli-jie, how does a person decide someone else is their person?"

Jiang Yanli looked across the room to where Jiang Cheng was showing her soon-to-be-wife how to put side spin on a billiards ball and smiled. "I think you just know," she said. "You meet someone and you get to know them, spend time together, then one day you realize you love them and want to build the rest of your life with them."

Wei Ying wrinkled his nose. "I dunno if it works that way for me. Just some random person? I've never met anyone I can imagine wanting to live with all the time. Well, besides—huh..." he cut off suddenly and darted a look over at Jiang Yanli, who just calmly sipped her drink.

"Have you ever told him that?" she asked, after a moment where Wei Ying reassessed his entire life and dating history. "I think he might appreciate hearing it."

"I... huh. Yanli-jie, you're kinda blowing my mind here," he complained.

"I gathered," she said wryly, before fixing him with a smile that made all the hair on the back of his neck stand up. "Of course, I trust," she told him, "that I do not need to explain to you of all people how very dearly I hold my didi's happiness and well-being."

He swallowed and raised three fingers in the salute he'd used ever since the summer that—hah—he and Jiang Cheng had decided as kids that they would make their own oath of brotherhood like the heroes of their favorite show. "I, Wei Ying, swear to you that I would kick my own ass before I did anything to hurt him."

Jiang Yanli leaned over to knock her shoulder against his and nodded. "That's what I thought."

Turned out, dating Jiang Cheng didn't suck at all.

It felt easy in a way Wei Ying’s past dates never had, less like trying to keep up with a game whose rules everybody knew except him, more like... well, like spending time with his best friend in the whole world, but on purpose. There was also a tension in the back of Wei Ying’s mind that seemed to have lifted, though he couldn't quite pinpoint what it was that had gone.

It was Jiang Cheng who helped him figure it out.

"I think it's that now I'm able to count on this. On us," he said, when Wei Ying brought it up. "Before, whenever you went out with someone new, I wondered if this would be the time you'd find someone to fall in love with and leave me behind."

"Aww, Chengcheng! I would never!"

Jiang Cheng huffed and rolled his eyes, but his cheeks were pink. "Well, I know that now," he said, a pleased little smile breaking through his attempts at a scowl.

"As long as you're sure—" Wei Ying began, still getting used to thinking about himself with the word "aromantic." Still a so very sure that Jiang Cheng deserved to be fallen in love with.

"Hey!" Jiang Cheng cut him off. "None of that. I know you. And I know you don't see it this way, but I personally think it's pretty damn romantic that you choose to love me, on purpose."

"I simply have exquisite taste in life partners," Wei Ying sniffed, embarassed the way he always got when Jiang Cheng declared something he'd done "romantic."

"You do," Jiang Cheng agreed. "Someone told me a long time ago I was the best guy in the world and would make an awesome boyfriend, and that he would fight anyone who said differently."

Wei Ying laughed. "That's you and your sister I've promised to kick my own ass if I ever break your heart, then. Guess I'll just have to keep you forever."

"Damn right, you will," Jiang Cheng agreed, grinning smug and happy and breathtakingly beautiful. Wei Ying leaned across the couch to give him a sweet, closed-mouth kiss—the kind Jiang Cheng had shyly admitted he actually did like, a lot—and smiled too, at how lucky he'd gotten to be with his best friend in the whole world for his entire life.

🖤💜

Today's (extremely long!) thread was inspired by this WONDERFUL art of ace Jiang Cheng and bi & aro Wei Ying! Go give Midori some love on Twitter!

I spent a nonzero amount of time googling to double check when various terms and flags came into vogue, so if you're wondering, WWX & JC were in college in the early 2000s, before the ace and aro flags were designed. By the time they get themselves figured out, they can get their cute wristbands.

...which, yes, means these dingdongs spent about a solid decade living together before realizing that was what they wanted to do forever. 😉

This also means Jiang Yanli and her unnamed wife here are getting married between when California started recognizing same-sex marriages in 2008 and the Obergefell v. Hodges ruling in 2015! THIS SHIT'S RECENT!!!

Happy Pride, thank you for reading, check out more LGBTQIA+ sweetness on my #PrideMonthSnippets Masterpost!

#PrideMonthSnippets #chengxian #westie writes #mdzs #the untamed #asexual pride #aromantic pride #asexual jiang cheng #bisexual wei wuxian #aromantic wei wuxian #queerplatonic relationship #queer relationships #love has a lot of shapes

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haifengg · 3 years

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A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?) Lucas can’t really go without affection. He needs a smooch at least before he leaves the house or when he says goodbye on dates. He wants to be reminded that their S/O loves him and that he loves them. It’s as easy as this.

B = Before (What were they like when they had a crush?) Dude would try to impress. With bad jokes. With flexing his guns. He would always ask his crush if they want to come with him and the guys to do whatever. And if they agree he wouldn’t really be able to hide his excitement. It would light a spark of pure joy in his eyes. It would be very obvious really.

C = Confession (What was their confession like?) Regardless of his looks and height Lucas still is a very childish man and he’s not that old either. I would honestly go that far and say that during his life he wasn’t the one confessing often. He usually got confessed to. So when it is actually his turn he would probably get all shy around his crush and he maybe asked Kun for advice as well on how to tell them and what to say since he is not the very best with words.

D = Date (What was the first official date they went on?) I am guessing something cheesy. Lucas may or may not be a romantic person but being all nervous about fulfilling expectations and doing a solid job he would take their S/O out to go an amusement park. He is a child really and his sometimes subtle playfulness is probably what attracts his S/O to him as well.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) Please don’t come for me on this one but I recon he would choose a text. As I mentioned in section C = Confession I imagine him being this popular kid in school everyone had a crush on at least once a week. (We’ve all seen the pics he’s adorable.) That being said he maybe got too used to dumping people interested in him. I won’t say it is the same with his S/O as it was with high school sweethearts but he might just fall back into old patterns due to convenience. Breaking up would still hurt him and still be difficult.

F = Fights (What would fights look like? What are things that upset them?) Honestly: Fights with Lucas would be a pain mainly because he doesn’t see where he’s wrong or what the issue exactly is. He is a very loyal person once fully committed but maybe not the most understanding one.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?) His emotional way is very gentle. His physical way in terms of hugs and holding hands is too. Simple mind - Simple showings off affection other things we don’t discuss here it is SWF, please

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?) Just like Johnny his arms are insanely long and wrapping them tightly around his S/O is just way to nice to not do it constantly.

I = Intimacy (What is their favorite form of intimacy? Do they have problems with it?) He knows why he’s in SM. He got casted off the streets for his looks. He also really radiates the vibes of only being there for the fun and the people only. Lucas is very confident in the way he looks and he is aware of how many thousand people find him insanely attractive. I am pretty sure there are close to no problems when it comes to intimacy but that is something very personal because we know that everyone has at least one issue with themselves which we sometimes could never tell.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) He gets jealous. Not much but he does in general. I am not sure how exactly that would display or how he would show it but overall: Yes he does.

K = Kisses (Are they a good kisser? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?) I hope he is. Okay no honestly, hear me out lmao. Lucas ... is either very excellent at kissing or he isn’t. I just look at him and I really hope he is because that would be so grate and elevate him one step closer to being the complete package. He meets the height requirements. He has the hands to hold his S/O. He surely has the lips as well. Which is also where they like to kiss/be kissed the most.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) Lucas is the perfect personality type for getting along well with kids. He is goofy enough to play around with them and fun and fool but he is also calm enough to not out-child them and keep an eye on them. He is guiding their playfulness in a way only a few people can.

M = Messages (How often do they text his S/O?) He texts them A LOT when he’s bored. During practice or some random meeting he would get distracted by his phone and text them about how bored he is. Also he would often take pictures or snaps of stupid little things he wants to show them but they’re not around. Speaking of SnapChat: Filters.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) Nights out in clubs are hot and fun. Nights out in bars (if they are dates) are hot. Nights out in movie theatre would be so much fun. He would totally get this slushies that turn your tongue in different Colors but would also hold his S/O during scary parts of the movie even though he’s scared himself. Acting all tough

O = Opinion (Would they ask for their S/O’s opinion a lot? How important is it in terms of decisions?) He would ask for their opinion but mainly because he thinks he has to or that they would want to be ask. If it’s about his personal matters. When it comes to mutual decisions it’s different because well of course he asks for his S/O opinion. What they say matters to him and he wants both of them to be comfortable. So when they say that sofa is ugly - it’s ugly.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) Getting on his nerves is quite hard I assume. He probably would be the one getting on his S/O’s nerves (most of the time by accident tho.) If it’s something about them that actually bothers him he will be patient and ask them to maybe change that behaviour for a long time before actually admitting how much it is bothering him and eventually raising his voice.

Q = Quizzes (How does a bar trivia night teamed up with them look like?) A complete mess. Lucas once admitted he is not the smartest one and I adore people who are aware of that and own it in their own way. He would still try his best to not let his S/O and maybe other teammates down. BUT he is still an important part of the team: The one who chugs everything for the sake of the cause. IDK I just see him being able to drink a lot. He radiates this frat boy energy help

R = Remember (How much do they remember about their S/O or their relaitonship in general?) Lucas does his best but he is forgetting a lot. He writes it down in his phone. For example there could be a list for his S/O's family member’s birthdays and all their important anniversaries. He may still forget them tho. When it comes to memory Lucas knows it’s not his forté but he is trying hard.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?) He is maybe one of the most protective boyfriends you will find in whole NCT. He shields his S/O from wind or rain, he corners them in crowded subways. He flags and gets in cabs first. He will shove between his S/O and other guys dancing at clubs casually so they don’t notice. He will tell people to fo k off if they are obviously bothering his S/O. He does it all.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) He might be sloppy with everyday chores but he will rather often take his S/O on spontaneous coffee dates or bring home take out aka steal something from the dorm Kun cooked.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a S/O?) What makes Lucas unique as a S/O is definitely his awareness of his ... stupidity? Now I can see people coming for me for saying this but he once said he is not very smart and he is probably correct about that. His abilities lay more in the practical and emotional/empathic area. So what makes him special is is ability to pull his S/O’s guard down. If they come home from work super stressed he will put their mind at ease by simply talking to them about not so heavy or challenging topic. He will be their save heaven. A place where they don’t need to pretend or to impress. Lucas loves his S/O 190% for their character or quirks and maybe even for their intellect as well but he doesn’t compete with it and is real about himself.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?) SO. MUHC. He has sloppy days tho but they will mostly never catch him with greasy hair or anything. And also he is in shape and plans to stay that way.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without their S/O?) He would. If he is not with them for a long time he can feel how he is losing his inner center or balance. Lucas would be fine on his own but honestly exactly just fine.

X = X-Ray (How transparent are they?) Lucas is an open book. He can’t hide anything and he is so easy to fool on like April 1st or some prank they want to play on him. If he’s feeling down they’ll see it. If he’s happy they’ll know it. if he truly loves them it will be on the local news.

Y = Yuck (Everyone has flaws. What is theirs?) Bruh okay. Well. He leaves his underwear everywhere. Or his socks. and he leaves the toilet seat up.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) Being asleep he grabs everything and pulls it in close. There is no escape. And I feel like he will wander towards the mid of the bed so if their S/O is avoiding being hold custody they will have no where to go but the sofa or wake him up.

Gif is not mine

Taglist

@jeonghanmoon @kpopsnowball @pocky-otp @himitsu-luna @soleilsuhh @dundun-baby

Masterlist

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krisdreaming · 3 years

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PART 1 | A FAVOR

｢ Masterlist ｣ | Next >

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsurou x gn!reader

Summary: Somehow, you ended up agreeing to bring your non-existent boyfriend to the family Christmas gathering at your grandparents’. Your chem lab partner and fast friend, Kuroo Tetsurou, agrees to play the part. Your developing feelings for him won’t cause any problems, right?

WC: 1.7k

A/N: I am v i b r a t i n g, it’s finally here! I’m very excited to share this story with you all, I’ve been having an absolute blast writing it! I already feel like it’s so much better than last year, and tbh reading the old fic is so cringy for me lmao I lowkey want to delete it.

The winter sky is slate gray above you, shedding a few stray snowflakes around you as you walk. The streets of the small university town have been decked out with lights and decorations for a few weeks now, and with the falling snow to match, it’s really starting to feel like Christmas. You reach for the door of the coffee shop, stepping inside and immediately drawing in the heavenly aromas of coffee and pastries. The warm air is such a contrast to the chill of the outdoors that you can feel a slight tingle in your cheeks.

Looking around, you spot Kuroo at one of the corner tables and make your way over to him. “So, what do you think?” You ask, making a vague gesture to the entirety of the coffee shop, “So much better than the one on campus, right?”

“I’ll let you know after I taste the coffee,” He says lightly with his usual teasing smirk. He lifts the mug to his lips and peers at you over the rim for a few moments before taking a sip. “Hmm,” He smacks his lips a few times, resting the mug on the table and tilting his head to the side in exaggerated thought.

“Well?” You finally prompt, “Does it get the Kuroo seal of approval?”

“Not sure,” He says, eliciting an eye roll from you as he lifts his mug again and takes a bigger sip. “Oh!” He reaches for another mug that you hadn’t noticed and pushes it across the table. “I ordered this for you. It’s your favorite here, right? The caramel macchiato?”

You blink at him in surprise, reaching out automatically to wrap your fingers around the warm mug. “You remembered that?” You ask dumbly.

“Of course I did. You’re only talking about it every day,” He rolls his eyes, “Meanwhile some of us are actually trying to do our chem lab, you know.” The teasing smile on his face is starting to seep into his voice, and you chuckle.

“Oh, please. What would you do without me in lab?” You ask, finally lifting the mug to your lips to take a sip. The milky sweetness of the coffee draws out a soft hum of contentment.

“Get work done,” He laughs, shrugging his shoulders and tilting his head as though dodging the glare you shoot his way. “And speaking of work, we’d better get started on this write up if we want to have it finished for class tomorrow.” He flips open his notebook, and you fish around in your bag for yours. It is why you’re here, after all.

You’re about a third of the way through the assignment when your phone rings. Kuroo leans back in his chair as you peek at the screen. “It’s my grandma,” You say apologetically, “I should get this.” Standing to your feet, you step out into the dusk that’s falling outside. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N, this is Grandma.”

You shake your head. “Yes, Grandma, I know. How are you?” She doesn’t call you often, so you hope everything is alright.

“Fine, fine,” She says brusquely, quickly brushing past the niceties to get to the real reason she’s calling. “I was thinking, and Grandpa and I agreed that it would be so nice if you invited your boyfriend to Christmas this year.” Suddenly, the coffee you’d just finished drinking is turning to a solid brick in your stomach. “We’d love to meet him, dear, you hardly ever tell us anything about him!”

You let out a shaky breath. It had been harmless – or so you thought. Just a little white lie. Nothing wrong with letting your grandmother believe you’d found a boyfriend at college. She’s always been so hopeful that you’d find someone special, and she asks at every opportunity, so the story had developed on its own. Now you’re starting to realize why that may have been a bad idea.

“No, Grandma, it’s fine, really. He doesn’t need to come.”

“Nonsense. There’s plenty of room and you know there’s always plenty of food, we’d love to have him.” Your grandmother’s voice crackles insistently through the phone.

“Grandma-”

“I won’t take no for an answer,” She says in a tone you’ve never once dared to argue with. “You bring this boyfriend of yours to Christmas, and that’s final.” You bite down a little too hard on your lower lip.

“I’ll see if he’s free,” You say weakly, hoping to buy yourself some more time.

“Good,” She says, finally satisfied. “I’m looking forward to meeting this young man. Now I’m sorry to go so soon, dear, but I have a pie in the oven that needs to come out. You just let me know when the two of you will be getting here next week, alright?”

“Okay, Grandma. If he can come,” You add quickly. “Bye. Love you.”

“And I love you, dear.” For a few moments after she hangs up, you keep your phone at your ear, listening to the dial tone. Finally, you remember that Kuroo is still waiting for you inside, and you slowly turn and go back into the coffee shop.

“Everything okay?” Kuroo asks when you sit back down. You paste a smile on your face and pick up your pencil.

“Yeah, fine!” You chirp, “My Grandma just wanted to discuss a few things about the Christmas get together coming up.”

“Ah, cool. That sounds really nice.”

“Mm-hmm,” You brush it off, “Let’s get this finished, okay?” You try to focus on the lab report, but your mind keeps wandering back to the conversation with your grandmother. You nod along when Kuroo makes a suggestion and dutifully jot down your answers, but you’re working on autopilot.

“Are you sure everything’s alright?” Your gaze snaps to Kuroo and you nod quickly. He sets his pencil down and leans back in his chair, eyeing you critically. “I dunno, you just seem kind of distracted,” He gestures to your paper, and when you look down, you realize that you’ve been erasing so fiercely that a hole is worn into the page. You cover it sheepishly with your hand.

“I’m fine. It’s stupid,” You say with a shrug and a light chuckle. He nods knowingly. He isn’t prying, but something in his expression prompts you to keep going. “You’re going to laugh at me,” You warn before continuing.

“Brilliant,” He says, leaning on his elbows and focusing his entire attention on you. You clear your throat.

“I may or may not have implied to my grandma that I have a boyfriend. Perhaps more than once. I said perhaps!” You repeat it at the way his lips are screwed up, already trying his hardest to keep a straight face.

“But you don’t,” He interjects.

“No. Thank you for that,” You say dryly. “Anyway, as it turns out, Grandma has extended a generous invitation for my boyfriend to attend our family Christmas gathering.”

“Your boyfriend that doesn’t exist,” He says with a smirk.

“We’ve established that, yes,” You huff. “Any bright ideas, smarty pants?”

“Hm, so you come to me for advice,” Kuroo strokes his chin thoughtfully. “Sounds like you need to get yourself a boyfriend.” You snort. “Or at least someone to pass off as your boyfriend,” He amends. “For the right price, I might be persuaded. Isn’t this your grandma that sent you those cookies the other week?”

“The one and only,” You nod.

“Mm-hmm,” He nods slowly, watching you a little too closely. Just when you start to feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, he sits back again. “Well, if there are going to be more of those cookies, you know where to find me,” He quips, then clears his throat. “Well, we’re almost finished here, is this what you got for the last formula?” That quickly, it’s dropped. As always when it comes to Kuroo, you’re not sure quite how seriously to take him.

You spend the rest of the evening worrying the situation in your mind. Is it really smart to bring a fake boyfriend to your family gathering? It sounds like the plot of a bad romcom. Say your boyfriend can’t make it, and you know your grandmother will ask for photos, stories, and other evidence you don’t have. Admit the truth, and you may never be able to look her in the eye again. None of them is very appealing, but those are your options.

The next day, you can’t believe you’re really doing this. Sleep deprivation may be a factor, but you’ve decided to take Kuroo up on his offer. After all, you reason with yourself, it will keep Grandma happy. She’ll be absolutely tickled, and you know Kuroo will charm her. Kuroo’s always seemed to love the stories you’ve told about your family, and you know he’ll fit right in with them. Spending the holiday with him – it might not be so bad. In fact, it’s something you might even find yourself looking forward to.

Your afternoon lab is almost over before you work up the courage to broach the subject. “Hey, Kuroo?” You speak up, right as he’s eye level with a test tube and adding a few drops to the solution inside.

“Hm?” He hums, distracted, as you watch him count the droplets under his breath. When he’s finished, he sits back and looks at you, head cocked slightly to the side. You draw in a sharp breath, trying not to think about the sudden twist in your middle.

“Were you serious when you said you’d come to my family’s Christmas and pretend to be my boyfriend?” It tumbles out in one breath.

He barks out a laugh. “Well, yeah, I guess so!”

“I’m not trying to force you,” You insist.

“You’re not,” He assures you. “Wasn’t it my idea in the first place? How am I supposed to turn down an opportunity to eat for three days straight?”

“You have to let everyone think you’re my boyfriend,” You remind him.

“You think I can’t handle it?” He holds out his hand. “Please. I’m in.”

“If you’re sure.” Slowly, you reach out and shake his hand. His grip is firm. This is really happening, isn’t it?

#Haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #Haikyuu fluff #Kuroo Tetsurou #Kuroo Tetsurou x reader #Kuroo x reader #Haikyuu x reader #hqd fluffmas #queued

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kiribakuhappiness · 4 years

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You know I think a lot about the fact that bakugo probably has a GREAT sense if fashion. Like imagine the girls and kiri trying to get someone ready for a date or smthin and nothings working so Kiri's like "oh!let's go ask bakugo!!! He'll know!"And everyone's just like"are you out of your fucking mind?He's gonna kill us!"and somehow through the magicof kiri bakugomanages to pick the PERFECT outfit without him getting too angry!

ABDUSBSBZ!!!

Are y'all ready for a rant??

Bakugou Katsuki has a GREAT sense of fashion and anyone who believes otherwise can fucking. fight. me. Just because he dresses in baggy clothes doesn't mean he isn't aware of what he's doing - it's literally a style of clothing.

Like grunge/emo - it consists of a lot of baggy pants, graphic t-shirts, layered shirts (usually a long sleeve under a short sleeve), and jackets - but just because it's a little sloppy or messy doesn't mean it isn't a clothing style.

Bakugou Katsuki has a fashion sense and it's called "I Don't Give A Fuck" (ie; Alternative)

Some examples:

These two outfits are perfect Bakugou Katsuki Fashion Sense™ examples.

In the first photo, his whole outfit is colored coordinated. The orange in his jacket (a primary piece of clothing in the ensemble) matches the orange in his boots (an ancessory of the ensemble), the black off-sets the colors by being the main color of one of the other primary pieces of clothing (pants) and the rest of the accessories, and the white t-shirt provides a break in the colors and pulls the rest of the look together.

In the second photo, Katsuki is swearing a jean jacket layered over a black hoodie (very common staple combination in the alternative/grunge clothing style) - but look! He paired that with some white/light gray pants, to offset the jean texture/color of his jacket. That's some high-level fashion sense thinking, as pairing a jean jacket with a pair of jeans tends to look a bit tacky (though it has been making a come-back recently because of its 'vintage' feel, it's still widely a preference thing. I personally don't like clashing jeans with jeans, but others do.)

These are some more really good examples of alternative/grunge outfit styles:

Black and white are really good colors to match together, especially in this style. Todoroki is pretty much sporting the same outfit Katsuki is, just in a different style (Katsuki's being alternative, Todoroki's being more preppy!)

Also, pairing jewelry with a tank top is another sense of fashion, especially when it matches the belt, like in the other photo! (I actually really like these two outfits in general, as my fashion sense tends to lean towards alternative and, more often than not, I am dressed like the photo on the left).

Some more outfits of Katsuki's. All pretty well color-coordinated, usually wearing all solids or flattering patterns, etc:

Notice how he always pairs his jackets with a v-neck or tank top? That's to keep his figure/physique showing, so it doesn't get drowned out by the larger pieces of clothing! He also does this sometimes with his baggy pants by pairing them with a tighter t-shirt, like in the red tank top photo above!

You might be saying something like / yeah but, these are all bnha official art and not any screencaps from the show / but honestly, Katsuki has style in the show too - ever since he was a kid!

Here we see the classic long-sleeve under short-sleeve combo, and if you look up this scene, his shoes are black and white too (matching his t-shirt and rounding out his whole outfit). This outfit right here is super popular, I have seen a lot of people wearing clothes like this, myself included!

And we mustn't forget the iconic outfit Katsuki wore to the diner to help Kirishima study (for no other reason than to look nice):

It doesn't look like much; it's baggy pants and a t-shirt, which we're used to him wearing, but the jacket and the added red on his shoes that tie together with his t-shirt really carry the whole outfit. And the fact that he offsets the shorter jacket torso length with a longer t-shirt? And he rolled his sleeves a quarter of the way up?

If the sleeves were in the way, he could have just rolled them up once or he could have just shoved them up to his elbows and been done with it, but no, he rolled them up to quarter length because he knows that's how you dress jackets up without actually having to dress up in any way.

He knows the rules of fashion, that's why he can break them and still look somewhat put-together. That's what alternative/grunge is all about! It's about looking like you don't care, even if you do!

So yes, while we mostly see him like this:

That doesn't mean he doesn't have a fashion sense. It just means that his style is different than what other people typically wear. He's a rebellious, strong-willed kind of guy, and that reflects in his clothing style. It just so happens that we only really get to see him outside his gym clothes/hero gear/uniform when he's lounging around in the dorm building or (like the photo above) literally lying around at home, and I don't know about you, but unless I'm actually going somewhere, there's no way in hell I'm wearing anything other than sweatpants and a t-shirt!! 😂

So yes, I whole-heartedly agree that if anyone at UA needed help putting together an outfit, Bakugou Katsuki is the one they should go to for advice. Does that mean I think he would help them?? Ehh, you'd have to do some pretty hard convincing and hope that Kirishima is around to help, but even then, maybe don't get your hopes up 😅

#hey look #another rant #because I have no self control #bakugou katsuki headcanons #bakugou katsuki has a fashion sense #it's called alternative #and it fits him beautifully #and I'm not just saying that #because my fashion sense is alternative #and I have a lot of the same outfits that he does #nope #totally not biased #ahahaa!#bakugou katsuki #asks

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leoneslover · 3 years

Text

𝐅𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ♡

Sugawara Kōshi x reader(fem!)

Warnings: none

A/n: I missed posting self indulgent stuff 😔😔 anywayz, here’s the answers to the fluff alphabet for Suga that no one asked for lol. This is lowkey self-insert btw.

Original template Nsfw version

★彡 A = Admiration : What do they absolutely adore about you?

• Probably the fact that you have so much in common.

I feel like he’d be the type of person to bond over shared interests. Wheter that be a show that you like, a band, a hobby, or even the fact that your personalities are alike; is enough to make him grow a soft spot for you and those shared things in his heart.

★彡 B = Body : What is their favorite part of your body?

• Your waist and your lower back.

He wouldn’t really mind pda, but at first he wouldn’t be so sure on wheter you’re into it or not. So he found a nice middle ground to start with, and that was just holding you close to him at all times. Wheter you’re walking through the hallways, on a crowded street, or just standing there and talking to someone; his hand would naturally get a hold on your waist.

Even after a long time dating each other, he still has this little habit. But it’s ok, none of you really mind it, and it kinda grew on him by this point anyways.

★彡 C = Cuddles : How do they like to cuddle?

• Facing each other, one arm around your waist and the other stroking your head.

He likes to be able to watch you fall asleep next to him, and he loves that you’re the first thing he sees when he wakes up. He also loves this position cause he’s able to kiss you as much as he wants in many different ways. (And also makes him able to press your foreheads together and fall asleep like that 🥺).

★彡 D = Dates : What does their ideal date looks like?

• I said it once and I’ll say it again, this man is a picnic enthusiast. Period.

He’ll take you to lots of different locations only to have a little picnic date for the day. And if you like to cook or bake, then he’ll definitely help you to make something the day prior only so you can share it on the date.

★彡 E = Emotions : How do they express emotion around you?

• I feel like it’ll take him a little bit to open up to you, but after he does, he wouldn’t be afraid of telling you how he feels if needed.

He doesn’t see emotions as weak, and doesn’t really mind to show them around you if he feels comfortable enough. Though he prefers to be the one comforting you instead.

★彡 F = Family : Do they want one? If they do, when?

• He definitely does, but it’s not the first thing he has in mind.

He’d like to settle down at some point in his life. Buy a big house so he can have two or three children if you’re up for it. But he wouldn’t rush it, he’ll just let things happen and enjoy his youth first, he has time to think about family later.

★彡 G = Gifts : How do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?

• He likes giving meaningful gifts.

Not a big fan of really big and impressive stuff, but rather small things that would remind you of him, or a certain date that you guys had, or maybe even an in joke that you guys made up. Also a big fan of letters and little love notes that he’d slide here and there.

★彡 H = Holding hands : When/How do they like to hold hands?

• He loves holding hands. It’s one of his favorite things.

He does it mainly when you’re walking around during summer, since it’s too hot for him to press you against him by your waist like he normally would. But wouldn’t mind doing it some other time if you like it.

★彡 I = Injury : How would they act if you got hurt?

• Mom mode activated.

He would try to act calm around it and treat the wound properly, but on the inside he’s so worried he thinks he might scream. Would constantly check on you after he’s done, and give you instructions on how to treat it on your own (if he isn’t around to do it for you).

★彡 J = Jokes : Do they like to joke around with or prank you? How?

• YES of course he does.

Not a big fan of pranks, but would do a lot of questionable stuff just for fun (and of course you’re gonna tag along, I mean, he has a point on the majority of those). He’s probably joking around you all the time, and you probably have a handful of random in jokes by now to the point that that’s the only way you guys communicate.

He’s chaotic let him be.

★彡 K = Kisses : How do they like to kiss?

• Slow and passionate.

Your kissing sessions with him could go on for hours honestly. He loves kissing, but what he loves the most is when he can pour all his feelings into one and give it to you like if his last breath depended on it.

Would stroke your hair or back while you’re at it.

★彡 L = Love : How do they show they love you?

• Affection. Lots and lots of affection.

He’s clingy asf, so expect a lot of hugs and kisses that might catch you off guard a couple of times.

Also words of affirmation. He’ll tell you how much he loves you and how much you mean to him almost daily.

★彡 M = Memory : Favorite memory together?

• When he first told you he loves you.

He remembers almost vividly everything about that time. How your eyes opened slightly, how your eyebrows rised up almost instantly, how you stared at him for a solid couple of minutes as if you were still processing the words. And how you finally whispered ‘I love you too’ while looking away.

He likes to think about that before he goes to bed.

★彡 N = Nightmare : What is their worst fear?

• Being replaced, especially for not being good enough.

He’s afraid of other people taking his loved ones away from him just because they’re better than him. He knows he’s not the best in anything, which is the main reason why he tries so hard to keep improving, and why he puts others before himself.

He’s scared that if he doesn’t try his best at everything, someone else is gonna take his place.

★彡 O = Oddity : What is one quirk they have?

• No matter the situation, he always knows what to say, and when to say it.

★彡 P = Pet names : What do they like to call you?

• Bunny and Darling are his favorites, but he literally calls you whatever he feels like.

★彡 Q = Quality time : How do they like to spend time with you?

• He likes to hang out with you as much as he can.

Having lunch together, going on dates, tagging along whenever you have to go out and buy some stuff, studying at your place, having sleepovers, you name it.

He just enjoys your company too much 🥺🥺

★彡 R = Rhythm : What songs reminds you of them?

• Selfless -The Strokes (shameless plug for my smau ahem go check it out if u haven’t already ahem).

• As the world caves in -Matt Maltese

• Midnight City -M83

★彡 S = Secrets : How open are they with you?

• 100% clear

The only times he keeps stuff from you is when he’s planning a surprise for you or something.

★彡 T = Time : How long did it take you to get together?

• Probably a couple of months.

He likes to let things flow naturally, so it probably started of as casual friends who flirted a little bit too much. And before you knew it he was already kissing you in your front door after what it felt like a date.

★彡 U = Upset : How do they act when you’re upset?

Would ask you about it right away.

If it has to do with him, then he’d profusely apologize and try to make it up to you for it.

If it doesn’t, then he’ll gently rest your head on his lap, playing with your hair as he listens to you rant about whatever it is that is making you feel bad, and then give you advice if needed.

But if you don’t wanna talk about it, then he’ll give you your space. Though he’d check on you frequently, making sure you’re not neglecting yourself.

★彡 V = Vaunt : What are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?

• He’s proud of how far he has become as person, and how he’s still improving on himself.

He’s also proud of you of course, and he absolutely adores showing you off. Why wouldn’t he?

★彡 X = X-Ray : How well are they able to read you?

• He’s used to having to read people all the time, so he’s probably pretty good at it.

However he still likes to ask directly rather than to beat around the bush, he wants to able to help you if needed.

★彡 Y = Yes : How would they propose to you?

• He would probably plan a whole day together before hand.

Would bring you breakfast to bed, take you out for lunch, maybe a little walk around the park or going shopping or whatever you feel like doing. And then take you out to a fancy restaurant that would probably be too fancy and a little sus tbh.

But he’d only propose once you get back to your house. He’d stop you before you can get the keys to your front door. Ask you if you had fun today. He would smile softly at you, saying how he’s glad that he’s able to spend so much time with you and how you make him the happiest man alive. Before actually getting on one knee.

If you say yes he’s absolutely kissing you in your front porch and carrying you inside bridal style.

★彡 Z = Zen : What makes them feel calm?

• Write his feelings down.

Whenever he feels like he could do some relaxing, he’ll just make himself a cup of tea and get a notebook out. He could write for hours, from really heavy stuff to random thoughts. He just pours it all out in the paper.

After he’s done, he feels like a brand new person.

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dokoni-mo · 4 years

Text

Far Away, Together || Darth Vader x Reader (Chapter 5.5)

(IMPORTANT A/N PLEASE READ: oh boy am i nervous to post this,, hello everyone!! this is my first time ever writing smut!! this chapter is basically a continuation upon the previous chapter of the series that I have been working on. You could consider this chapter to be an OVA chapter of sorts... I’ll leave it up to you to decide whether or not this chapter is cannon to the story or not. With that being said, this chapter has very little to do with the story of the series. But, I still tagged all my normal people in the list since it is technically part of the series (if you don’t want to be tagged for things like this, please tell me and i’ll remove you!!). I also wanna give a big shoutout/thanks to @hxldmxdxwn (pls dont be mad for me tagging you,,) for giving me some advice for writing smut and being a huge inspo for me!! Thank you so much :)))) Anyway, if you are not interested in smut or don’t like smut, feel free to overlook this chapter!! Our regularly scheduled programming will be continued soon. However, if you do read on, I do hope you enjoy what you see!! have fun ;) )))

Chapter One: [x]

Chapter Two: [x]

Chapter Three: [x]

Chapter Four: [x]

Chapter Five: [x]

WARNINGS: SMUT!!!! light dom/sub references, usage of titles, fingering, force-bonding, inappropriate usage of the force, cursing, otherwise none!!

Key: (F/N) = first name

Word Count: ~4700

Much to your dismay, the song that you and him had danced to eventually met it's inevitable end.

The pair of you stood a moment longer in each other’s arms as you heard the music slowly fade into the muffled chatter of nobility and officers saying their adieu as they left the venue, the tiredness of the night creeping its way onto their bones. You felt a quick wash of sadness swim overtop of you as your ears confirmed that the song was over, making you frown slightly. Lingering your head upon his taunt chest for a moment longer, your face assumed a soft smile as you looked up at him, laced with a hint of nervousness and awkwardness as you tried to figure out what to say to him This task proved difficult, however, since you knew you had to say something, but you had no idea as to what that something would be.

Hey, that was pretty neat? No way. There’s no way you’d be able to sleep at night if you said that.

Thanks? No! That was just rude.

Hey I really like you even though you are kinda intimidating and could totally snap me in half right here and right now but hey at least you would have touched me? This one was pretty self explanatory.

“I… I never took you for such a good dancer.” You eventually settled on saying, your cheeks reddening as your eyes twinkled up at him. It was a decent thing to say, you figured. It was in no way a lie, and you had even thrown in a friendly joke. A fine performance.

“And I have never taken you as one to accept such things.” Lord Vader responded to you, his grip upon your tiny frame not faltering for even a moment. His hold was strong, stable, supportive, solid, and a plethora of other things that started with s. Some of which, however, lingered on the… indecent side of things.

Letting a small giggle escape your lips, you made no attempt to quip back at him as you stared into the eyes of his mask. You had wished that the lenses were at least somewhat transparent within that moment. You craved to see his eyes as they burned into your own, letting you see every emotion that lingered in them as he looked upon you. If you were a braver person, you would reach up and take off the plate of metal yourself.

Alas, you were not.

After a moment of looking upon him, you let your gaze fall to the panel of buttons upon his stomach, a small smile painting your lips as you snaked your hand from behind his back to let your hand rest upon the armor of his chest, your fingers absentmindedly tracing the outline of the square of buttons.

“I should…” you began, your eyes still locked upon the panel of buttons before you, “I should probably start getting ready for bed. We still have to… mingle in the morning, and-”

“No.” He spoke quickly, almost too quickly, as he cut you off, his voice a touch louder than it should have been.

“(F/N)...” he began, his voice sounding so much deeper than normal to you, “please… stay here. Stay with me.”

Before you could even think, you felt his arm that was wrapped around your waist slowly retreat and the hand that was in yours unlatch itself. His large hands eventually found their new home upon your ribcage just below your armpits, his grip as strong and sturdy just as before, perhaps even a touch more. Lord Vader’s hands were quite big as they rested upon your tiny body, the expanse of his palms nearly engulfing you whole. Feeling the sheer size of his hands around you, your cheeks flushed deeper pink as you bit your lip, trying to control your indecent thoughts.

“O-Okay…” you stammered out, still refusing to meet his intense gaze upon your face. Not knowing what else to do with your hands, you rested them gingerly upon the underside of his muscular, leather-bound arms, your thumbs roaming the surface of the material for any feeling of flesh you could make out below it.

After a long moment of the sith lord holding you in place in silence, you heard his breathing hitch in his respirator as his hands started to travel down your body. Slowly, so excruciatingly slowly, his strong, gargantuan hands made their way to rest upon your hips, his thumbs starting to rub the bone below your skin.

This in no way helped to coax your blush down or to stop the scandalous thoughts that plagued your mind.

Without even telling yourself to do so, you lifted your hands from their position on his arms to rest upon the large expanse of his chest, the tips of your fingers hiding underneath the plate of metal that adorned his shoulders in order to get even a fraction closer to the skin beneath. You felt your inner temperature rise at the thought of seeing the man underneath the familiar armor.

“(F/N),” He rumbled out from behind his mask, a distant purr within the depths of his voice, “Have I ever told you how breathtakingly... alluring I find you?”

You swallowed thickly at his words, your cheeks nearly reaching a boiling point in heat. You paused for a moment to make sure that you were still alive before you could respond, your hands tensing upon his chest.

“I-I find you alluring too, Vader…” you responded, still refusing to make eye contact with the dark lord. What you had said was in no way a lie. From the very first moment that you had lain eyes upon Lord Vader, you had always held an odd attraction to him. You had always wondered what it would feel like to have his hands upon you, what it would sound like to hear his voice call out your name.

This was the perfect time for you to feed into your curiosity. Never in a million years did you expect to be there in that moment, locked tight in the sith lord’s grasp, his hands on your hips. Your body was so very hot, so very in need.

“(F/N).” You hear Lord Vader say, the usage of your name sending a shiver of cold down your heated spine. Before you could register what was happening, you felt the grip on your hips tighten as he pulled you closer to his much larger body, your frame now flush up against his. Beneath your soft skin, you could feel the faint warmth of his body underneath the suit drawing you into him, beckoning for you to merge into one with the dark lord. The feeling of the leather bounding his body rubbing against your skin made the hair stand up on your arms, your legs almost wobbling at the amount of power and authority that radiated off of him.

It was intoxicating.

Exasperating.

Thrilling.

Nerve-wracking.

You craved more.

But…

“V-Vader we…” you began to say, your eyes still trained on his chest before you, “We can’t-”

“Do not try and shy yourself away from me, (F/N).” said Lord Vader, the grip he had upon you tightening in case you tried to push your body away, “I sense your desire… Your desire for me. Do not try and fool yourself.”

You bit your lip again as you nodded, still unable to look up at him. You were embarrassed, but you didn’t exactly know why.

“Besides…” he continued on, removing one of his hands from your hip. You would have been sad at the absence of his touch if he did not replace it so soon after. Finding it's new home upon your chin, Lord Vader wrapped his fingers around the bone firmly yet gently, lifting it up to make you look at nothing but him, right in the eyes.

“Are you in any position to tell your superior what he can and can not do with his subordinate, Miss (F/N)?” he asked you rhetorically, the purr in his voice rattling you to the core. Your face, as well as your entire being, was on fire at this point. You swallowed thickly but silently as your eyes were forced to look into his, your want of seeing his real ones growing and growing the longer you searched for them.

“N-No, my Lord…” you were able to whisper out as you felt your mind go blank with nothing else but need.

Pausing to inspect your face a moment longer, Lord Vader eventually removed his hand from your chin, using it instead to stroke a lock of your hair on the side of your head.

“Good girl…” he purred out, making your breath stammer as it escaped your lungs.

With this, he took his hands off of you in order to stand up fully straight, his figure looming over you as his gaze bore into your eyes. The absence of his touch upon your body making you feel cold, you looked up at him with pleading eyes, a small frown painting your lips. He was so much taller than you, making you feel so, so small by comparison. His frame engulfed you whole, and you bathed in every moment of it.

“Now, allow me to take care of you, (F/N).”

He nodded his head slowly to his side.

“Get on the bed.”

With barely a moment’s hesitation, you followed his order to the mark. Keeping your gaze down, you bit your lip as you kicked off your boots and rolled onto the bed, sitting such that your knees were slightly bent at obtuse angles and your back was rested against the headboard of the bed. Your face still flushed, you looked over to the tall, looming sith lord across the room, waiting for him to come and take you.

Sensing that you were in a good position, Lord Vader turned to face you, taking his sweet time making his way over to the bedside.

You wanted to whine and scream about how slow he was being. The worst part about it, you knew that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

How cruel.

Unable to keep his gaze off of you, he slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, the metal and wood of it's frame groaning beneath his weight.

“(F/N),” he said, his tone deep yet somehow patient, “Are you scared?”

The question took you aback for a moment, making you stir in place. Pursing your lips, your gaze dropped for a moment before you stammered out your response.

“A-A little… It's… been a long time, since I…”

“I see.” Lord Vader responded without you having to finish.

He knew exactly what you meant.

“You do not need to worry, my sweet… I promise that I will not hurt you.” he rumbled out as he slowly shifted his weight, earning another groan from the bedding beneath. His size making you slip down so that you were laid on the bed, you noticed how his cape draped over his shoulders as he pinned you to the mattress, acting as a veil to shield you from the outside world.

A curtain of him.

The sheer size of the man on top of you made you realize just how large he was. You felt so tiny, so small compared to the mass of his arms and chest. Feeling the heat radiate off your face as you looked up at him, all you knew to do with yourself was to look dumbly into this mask, eager for his next move.

It came in and took your breath away.

“Undress yourself. Don’t stop until I say so.”

Maker, he had barely even touched you, and you were already so in need of him.

Following his command, you lifted your hands from resting on either side of your head to find their place upon the seam of your uniform’s coat. Your fingers trembling slightly, you undid the buttons of your coat, slipping it off as best as you could while being pinned underneath Lord Vader. Your eyes focused on taking off your uniform, you could feel his gaze upon you as you slowly exposed more and more of your skin to him, your ears filled with nothing but the rustle of cloth and his breath. Biting your lip, you slid your tank-top off of your torso and threw it to the side, leaving you in nothing but your bra to cover your top half. You shuddered as the cold air around you crept it's way upon your body.

With another faint moment of hesitation, you slid your hands downwards to the him of your uniform pants, curling your fingers to ready yourself to take it off.

“No.” You heard him say before you could finish the job, “I will do that part myself. You may stop.”

Obeying his wishes, you returned your hands to rest of either side of your head, your gaze returning to meet his mask. Without him even doing anything, you were already a mess beneath him. Your skin was glossed from the dew that expelled itself from your person as you heated up, your breath coming out in soft, silent pants.

Maker above did he drink in the sight of you.

You were so pretty beneath him, looking at him like that.

The best part?

You were absolutely, unquestionably, undoubtedly, undeniably, his.

And his only.

Shifting his weight over to one of his arms, he lifted up his free hand, resting it upon your stomach. Of course, his hand was humongous as it laid upon your skin, nearly stretching the entire expanse of your middle. The feeling of the cool leather made you let out a silent gasp, a twinge of embarrassment bubbling in the back of your mind. Lord Vader trailed up and down your stomach and side for a good while before traveling up further, your eyes fixated on the movements of his hand.

Feeling his fingertips poke their way under the wiring of your bra, you couldn’t stop yourself as you lifted up your hands to your face, hiding yourself underneath them as a result of your inexplicable embarrassment.

Lord Vader did not like this.

“No.” Lord Vader demanded. Without warning, you felt the ghost of a pull upon your wrists, forcing them back into their original position by your head no matter how much you fought against it. Your mind confused for a moment, you quickly deduced that it must have been him. His power.

“You will not hide yourself from me.” He continued on, stopping any movements of his hands, “Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes… Yes, I’m sorry.” you gasped out in between your pants, your legs squirming for him to keep going.

Even though he said nothing in response, he must have been satisfied with the answer since he continued his movements. Through the sheer strength of his fingers, Lord Vader pushed past the wiring of our bra, cupping your breast in his large hand.

Just the feeling of his engrossing touch upon your breast made you let out a soft moan, causing you to bite your lip in surprise. You were beyond turned on at this point, wanting nothing more than for him to just keep going.

Letting out a few more soft, quiet moans as he begun to knead your breast in his palm, you finally mustered enough courage to look up into his mask. Of course, the metal offered you no way of telling what exactly he was thinking, but offered you a source to give your needy, lust-laced gaze to.

You felt so good.

You felt so good because of him.

You knew that you would want him for the rest of time.

You knew that only he would ever make you feel like this again and again.

Eventually deciding that enough was enough, Lord Vader removed his hand from your breast and out from under your bra, his removal causing the fabric to go back onto your body at an odd angle. The absence of his massages made you whine, looking up at him pleadingly to touch you again.

Your requests were eventually met as he trailed the tips of his fingers down from your breast to your stomach to the hem of your uniform pants, the gentle touches earning themselves another shudder out of you.

Wrapping his fingers around the hem, the dark lord stopped himself for a moment to look upon your face. Satisfied with your expression of want and need, he pulled down the cloth wrapping around your legs, discarding it without any ounce of care about it or where it landed. This night was surely full of surprises. You had never thought that you would ever be sprawled out underneath Lord Vader in only your bra and panties.

But, there you were.

You barely had any time to react before he made you gasp out another moan, his leather-bound fingers rubbing up and down the cloth that covered your aching, dripping core. Continuing his actions, you began to squirm and whimper for him to remove your panties. Your legs kicked and shuffled as moans and whines left your throat, making you sound so pitiful as you gripped onto his cape, the fabric soft in your fingers.

“Quiet.” He rumbled out as he stopped him movements, focusing one hard press against the cloth that covered your clit. Opening your mouth in a silent gasp, you quickly shut it as your forced yourself to stay still, not wanting to find out what would happen were you to disobey him.

Satisfied with your submission, Lord Vader must have decided that you were ready for him fully. Reaching his fingers up, he latched the waistband of the fabric around his large digits, so very achingly slowly pulling it down past your thighs, knees, and feet.

Your chest was rising and falling rapidly as you felt your panties fall off your person, earning another shudder from the cold. Lord Vader’s breath had started to pick up the pace as he loomed down over your body.

He was… pleased.

So very pleased.

Never had seen such a beautiful sight sprawled out underneath him.

Wanting him.

Needing him.

Deciding to be so gracious as to entertain your needs, he swiped his leathery middle and pointer finger up the length of your folds, the slick coming from them coating the digits instantly, earning another low, shallow moan from you. Amused by this, Lord Vader brought his soaked fingers up closer to his mask, inspecting how the liquid shined in the soft glow of the dim lighting surrounding the pair of you.

“I am most impressed, Miss (F/N),” he said to you, turning his attention back to your reddened face, “Already this in need, and I have barely even begun.”

Cue another whine to escape from behind your lips, your hands gripping and kneading on his cape.

“Vader… please... “ you whined softly, your eyes full of pitiful gleam, “I need you so badly…”

Returning his hand to rest between the folds of your core, he pressed his middle and pointer finger against your entrance, another moan shooting out of your lungs.

“As you wish, Miss (F/N).”

Slowly but surely, Lord Vader pushed the tip of his leather-bound middle finger into your core, your walls fluttering in your excitement. A flurry of moans and gasps left your person as he continued to push inside of you, only stopping once you were filled. He paused for a moment to let you get adjusted before he began to push his digit in and out of your core, the sounds of this action downright sinful to hear.

You were a mess beneath him. As he gingerly started to increase his pace, your mind started to go blank as the pleasure overwhelmed you, a flurry of moans, gasps, and pleads escaping from your lungs. All you could think about was him, how good you felt because of him.

You wanted him for the rest of time.

You wanted him to keep going for the rest of time.

Deciding that you in no way have had enough, you groaned as he pushed his pointer finger inside of you, right alongside his middle one. The stretching of your walls almost made you scream in pleasure, your nails digging in to the fabric of his cape. You could have sworn that you had seen stars.

“So eager…” You heard him say in between your moans and quiet pleads, “So ready to receive me…”

Leaning down to get closer, you unconsciously reached up and wrapped yours arms around his broad shoulders the best you could, your fists bunching up the fabric of his cape.

Turning his mask to rest near your ear, a ripple of pleasure ran through your body as you heard Lord Vader speak, his tone deeper and darker than ever before.

“Such a good girl.”

Before you could blubber out a response, you felt his fingers curl themselves inside of you, hitting right on the spot that made your whole body shake with pleasure. The rate of your moans picking up, the pace of which the finger-fucked you did as well, eventually leading him to add a third finger to the mix. Every single noise that was coming from your body could have made the filthiest porn star ever blush. Your moans were so very desperate, and the sound of your core’s juices being mixed with the rapid pace of his fingers filling the space the pair of you shared.

Reaching up with his thumb, Lord Vader started to rub circles into your clit, making you moan out his name almost too loudly. He seemed to be pleased by this, since you had noticed that his pace had started to quicken as his breathing became more and more rapid. Seeing a way to maximize the amount of pleasure you could get, you continued to moan out his name, sometimes even accompanied by his title. The usage of Lord Vader would cause him to rumble out quiet groans from behind his mask, the bass making your chest rattle.

His pace reaching a feverous state, you could feel the knot building up in your vagina grow tighter and tighter as it promised an up-coming release. This promise only made your already over-stimulated body shake and shudder with more and more pleasure, the sounds escaping your mouth proof of such.

“I sense that you are close.” Lord Vader said to you, your mind barely able to process the words.

You nodded your head quickly, a mumble of strings of pleases and don’t stops falling from your lips in place of a sentence.

“(F/N)...” he groaned, his gaze boring into the fiber of your being.

Without any warning, you began to feel a buzz from inside of you. This was different from the knot you felt growing tighter and tighter, but it felt as if it came from no where. It felt as if it came directly from your soul, the very source of your existence. Your brow flexing in fuzzy confusion, you were perplexed until you felt a new sensation. It felt as if your very soul was reaching out, making branches to do as such.

Reaching out to him.

And you felt his own reach back.

The sheer rush of it all was too much to bear. The feeling of his fingers force themselves in and out of you so quickly. The feeling of his thumb circling your clit. The feeling of his force bonding your energy and his together.

It was euphoric.

It was pure bliss.

“That’s it, my sweet,” you heard him call to you, “Let go. Let go for your lord. Let go for me.”

Your orgasm raked itself over your body in waves, making your legs shake and the grip you had upon his cape tighten, turning your knuckles white. You almost screamed out his name as your walls fluttered around his digits, coating them further in your fluids.

Oh, how he loved it.

Eventually coming down from your high, you laid there for a long moment beneath the dark lord, his fingers halting to a pause inside of you. His breath was quite ragged as he remained still, almost matching your own pants for air as he gazed upon your body.

Once you had stopped shaking from pleasure, he slowly slid his fingers from out of your core, sending one last wave of euphoria through your nerves.

You looked up at him with glossy eyes and a dumb, open-mouthed smile as the back of his knuckles brushed against your cheek, moving any stray hairs out of your face.

He would never admit it, to anyone, but the sight of you beneath him, with that big, dopey, loving smile on your face, your souls freshly bonded together, was the most beautiful thing that he had ever witnessed.

After a long pause of simply admiring your face and body, he finally spoke.

“Get some rest, my dear. We have matters to attend to in the morning.”

You were confused for a moment as you felt his weight lift off of you, the bed creaking in relief as he stood. A pang of weary sadness rippled through you as you watched him start to leave, walking over the pieces of your uniform that littered the floor. Eventually able to process what was happening, you reached out to him, grabbing on to the fabric of his cape to keep him from moving away any further.

“W-wait,” you said, your lungs still panting for air, “please, d-don’t go… Will you please stay? With me? At least until I fall asleep…?”

After a brief pause, Lord Vader turned to you, pointing the face of his mask down to your face.

Seeing the emotion in your eyes as you reached out to him rustled an old feeling that he had not known for a very long time. In a moment of self-reflection, a reel of his life prior to this moment flashed inside of his mind, reminding him of his past self, alongside every mistake he had ever made

Watching his actions play back to him, he decided something.

Even though he had left everyone he had ever loved before behind…

He would not leave you.

He would stay.

“Yes.” He said simply as he took your hand into his, holding it as if it were made of the most fragile material in the world. Walking back over to you, he slowly slid down into a seat position upon the bed, earning another groan of protest from the wood beneath. His back against the headboard, he watched as you slid your body close to his own, your warmth reaching his skin beneath all the layers of armor and leather surrounding him, a foreign feeling to the dark lord of the sith. Lord Vader draped his strong, heavy arm over your shoulder as you draped one of your own over his waist, pulling yourself closer to him.

Nothing was said as you lulled yourself off to sleep, a feeling of security overtaking you as you were held within the arms of the most feared man in the galaxy.

~~~

TAGS: @spaghetti-666 , @soullesstaco , @arsonistvoyager , @robin-obsessed , @glitter-rian , @captainrexstan , @easterncryptid , @deviatedwinter , @roseangel013bf , @danicalifxrnia , @dartheldur , @finest-trashbag , @yeah-boiiiiiiiiiii , @elongatedmusk-rat , @shads121

#darth vader #darth vader x reader #fanfiction #anakin x you #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fanfic #smut #darth vader smut #anakin smut #anakin skywalker smut #star wars smut

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king-finnigan · 4 years

Text

5 times Geralt failed to ask Jaskier out and 1 time he somehow managed

Yen calls him immediately after he’s sent her the text. “What’s going on? You said it was an emergency?” She sounds slightly worried, and Geralt realizes that ‘Need help. Emergency.’ does sound like something to be worried about.

“I wanna ask Jaskier out.”

She lets out a long-suffering sigh, and he could swear he hears a ‘fucking finally’ muttered away from the receiver. “Cool, sure. So what do you need my help for?”

“Asking him out.”

She laughs softly. “Seriously? You’re a grown-ass man, surely you can ask someone out, right? You’ve done it before.”

He keeps quiet, and blesses all his lucky stars that she isn’t here to see shame rise red to his cheeks.

“Wait-“ He hears her let out a startled laugh. “You’ve never asked someone out before?”

His silence is confirmation enough.

“How the fuck did you manage to go your entire life without asking someone out?” She doesn’t wait for an answer. “Whatever. Alright, so, here’s what you gotta do-“

---

He’s waiting outside the doors of the cinema, bouncing on his heels a bit. Jaskier’s always a bit late – fashionably late, as Jaskier himself calls it – which is fine under any other circumstances, but the movie won’t wait for them, so it sets Geralt’s nerves on fire.

Finally, Jaskier shows up. With Triss and Sabrina in tow. To what was supposed to be a date.

“Hi!” Jaskier greets him brightly. “Hope it’s alright that I brought Triss and Sabrina. A movie is just much more fun when there are more people, you know? Hope you don’t mind?”

Geralt smiles tightly, and shakes his head. Later, after the movie, he rereads the text he sent Jaskier a few days earlier, and realizes he maybe didn’t really make it clear that he intended it as a date. Great. Something to remember for next time. Though he’s not gonna ask Jaskier on a movie date again. Firstly because Jaskier apparently likes it better when it’s not just the two of them, and also because they stumbled into their seats ten minutes late, and he doesn’t think he’s gonna survive that kind of embarrassment again.

II.

Okay, so clearly Yennefer’s plan didn’t work out. Maybe he should ask someone else.

It takes a while before Eskel picks up, but Geralt immediately relaxes when he hears his brother’s voice. “Yeah?”

“I wanna ask Jaskier out. I need your advice.”

Eskel breathes out something that sounds suspiciously like ‘finally’. It’s quiet for a while, as Geralt gives his brother time to think.

“Flowers,” Eskel eventually says. “Jaskier likes flowers, right? He seems like a flower kinda guy. So give him flowers.”

“Okay, thanks,” he says.

“By the way, can I borrow your drill? I’m making a shed and mine broke.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, thanks. Bye.” Eskel hangs up, and Geralt drops his phone on his bed, thoughts mulling over how best to handle this.

---

He shuffles from one foot to another as he waits for Jaskier to open the door, one hand in his pocket, the other holding a bouquet of different types of orange flowers. It had caught his eye at the florist, because of its obnoxious colours, and he figured Jaskier would love it.

Finally, the door opens. And immediately slams shut again, Jaskier’s high-pitched shriek muffled from behind the wood. “Fucking shit!”

Geralt frowns, and knocks on the door. “Jaskier? Are you alright?”

A muffled sneeze, followed by: “No! I’m allergic to flowers.” Another three sneezes, in quick succession. “Very.”

Great. Just his fucking luck. “Uh… r-right,” he stammers. “I’ll- I’ll throw them away, then.”

He apologizes for it later, and Jaskier tells him not to worry about it, though he’s hardly able to string the sentence together through several sneezes and wet sniffles, eyes red and swollen.

III.

Okay, so no movie date, and definitely no flowers. Maybe he should call someone else. He considers calling Lambert for a second, but he knows that would probably be the worst idea of his life – Lambert would either laugh in his face and hang up, or he would suggest something ridiculous like a bungee-jumping proposal or some shit like that.

Instead, he calls his dad. He’s always been able to rely on Vesemir for advice, so he supposes this time won’t be any different.

“What’s wrong?” his dad asks as soon as he picks up the phone.

Geralt frowns. “Nothing. I’m calling for advice.”

It’s quiet for a while. Then: “Alright, but disposing of a body is a lot harder than you think it is. Just take that into consideration before you go through with it. So first you gotta-”

“What? No, I wanna ask Jaskier out.”

Silence. “Oh. Who?”

“Jaskier. You met him last Christmas. Brown hair, blue eyes.”

“That loud-mouth that kept following you at the party?”

“Yes.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Geralt could swear he hears a muffled ‘thank the gods’, as if Vesemir is holding his hand over the receiver. “Try flowers.”

“Already tried that. Nearly killed him because he’s allergic.”

“Hmm. Take him to a nice restaurant.”

Geralt nods, and he realizes embarrassingly late that Vesemir can’t see him. “Alright. Thank you. But, what you said about disposing of a body, what-“ The line clicks. Vesemir’s hung up.

---

“Hey, there’s this new restaurant, a few blocks away. Di Mare, I think it’s called. Wanna go there, maybe next Saturday?”

Jaskier snorts at him, incredulous expression on his face. “That place? No thanks, way too fancy for me. What do you take me for, a rich person?”

“Jaskier, you’re literally royalty.”

“Nah,” Jaskier continues, ignoring him, “let’s just order take-out. Have a little movie night.”

Geralt nods, hope shining in his chest. “Yeah, sure.”

Jaskier grins at him, pulling his phone out. “Cool! I’ll text Yen and Triss, let them know. Been a while since we all hung out together.” Oh, fucking brilliant.

IV.

“Triss? I need your help.”

“Sure, what can I do?”

“I wanna ask Jaskier out.”

“Oh, yeah, Yen told me about that. So I figure you still haven’t managed?”

“Clearly.” He doesn’t mention the fact that so far, she’s come between his plans twice. He doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, and she’s obviously not doing it on purpose.

It’s quiet for a while. “Uh… Flowers are a big no-no, he’s allergic to those.”

“Figured that out by now.”

“The hard way?”

“The hard way.”

“Yikes. Hmm. Restaurant?”

“No.”

“Fuck, then I’m fresh outta ideas, chief. Wait, no. There’s this new coffeeshop just around the corner. Jask loves coffee, no way you can go wrong with this one.” Geralt highly doubts it, but thanks her anyways and hangs up.

---

The barista makes heart-eyes at Jaskier the entire time they’re ordering, and when they go to sit down, Jaskier turns his cup and finds the guy’s phone number written on the side. He immediately pulls out his phone and sends the barista a text. Geralt tries and fails not to sulk.

“Hey.”

He blinks, then frowns at his five year-old neighbour who’s blocking the exit of the apartment building, looking up at him with a glint in her eyes that she always gets when she’s about to drop snowballs through people’s mailboxes.

“… Hi.”

“Heard you were trying to ask your boyfriend out,” Ciri says.

“He’s not my boyfriend. And how’d you know that?”

“Gran-gran says the walls are thin and you talk loud when you’re on the phone.”

“… Okay.”

It’s quiet for a while, her gaze intent on him the entire time, and he starts to feel uncomfortable, shuffling on his feet. Sure, the effect may be mollified by the fact that she’s missing her front teeth, but she’s still very unnerving.

“… Ciri, can I leave n-“

“You should ask him out.”

“That’s why I’m trying t-“

“Just ask.”

“Ciri-“

“Give him alcohol. Grown-ups like alcohol. Then ask.”

He sighs. “If I promise to do that, can you please let me pass so I can go to work?”

She holds up her hand, pinkie finger extended. “Pinkie promise.”

He hooks his little finger through hers. “Pinkie promise. Now can I please go?”

She nods solemnly, and steps to the side. He’s halfway down the stairs when she calls out to him: “Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.”

He looks back, sees her staring at him, face blank and grave, and he turns back, getting out of there as fast as he can. What the fuck?

---

Geralt’s walking to Jaskier’s door, two cups of coffee in his hands. Sure, the giving-Jaskier-alcohol part of Ciri’s plan wasn’t the greatest, but he couldn’t deny that simply asking Jaskier on a date might be effective and solid, because it’s so simple.

Except, just his luck, as he walks to Jaskier’s door, Jaskier barges out of his apartment, and smashes into Geralt, coffee spilling over both of them.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Jaskier exclaims, throwing his hands in the arms exasperatingly. He sighs, his foul mood evident on his face. “Guys and coffee seems to be a deadly combination for me, lately.”

“I guess it didn’t work out with the barista, then?” He somehow manages to keep his hope out of his voice.

Jaskier sighs and shakes his head, fishing a paper tissue out of his backpack to wipe at the front of his shirt. “Yeah, no. Total hipster, and he couldn’t stop talking about himself. Like, yada-yada-yada, you like old music, we get it, now can we please talk about me?” He sighs, seems to give up on saving his shirt. “Guess I’ll have to go back inside to get a new one,” he mutters. “Anyways, why are you here? Is there something going on?”

Geralt swallows, shakes his head. “No, just wanted to bring you some coffee. Sorry about uh…” he waves his hand a bit “that. Gotta go.”

He rushes out of there, ignoring Jaskier’s inquiring “Geralt?” behind him.

+ I

“So you’ve finally turned to me for council,” Lambert says in lieu of greeting when he answers the phone.

Geralt sighs.

“I want to hear you say it, Ger-Ger. I’ll help you but I need to hear you say it.”

“Don’t call me Ger-Ger.”

“Say it.”

He sighs again, a headache starting to form behind his eyes. “Fine. I need your help.”

He can practically hear Lambert’s self-satisfied smirk. “Lucky for you, I’ve got just the idea…”

For some reason, Geralt doesn’t exactly feel lucky.

---

The first pebble he throws misses its target, and he cringes as it nearly hits Jaskier’s downstairs neighbor’s window. He tries again. This time it hits its mark, but there’s no sign of life from Jaskier’s apartment. He tries again. No response. And again. No response. He throws three pebbles against the window in quick succession.

Finally, a light turns on and Jaskier opens the window, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Geralt? It’s one in the morning, what-“

He looks down at his phone, frantically searching for the song that Lambert recommended- fucking Lambert. He never should’ve agreed to this, and he’s going to kill his brother once this is over. Finally, he finds the right song. It’s the same one as in that one movie Lambert told him about where this guy held a boombox over his head or some shit – ‘something Jaskier will have definitely watched’, his brother had reassured him. Finally, he finds the right song, and holds his phone over his head, volume as loud as possible, and-

“WANT A BREAK FROM THE ADS?-”

Geralt closes his eyes in horror as the ad continues playing, several lights turning on in the windows of the apartment building. Jaskier on the other hand, is- gone.

Geralt frowns, turns the ad off, and looks at Jaskier’s window, painfully empty. Suddenly, the door to the building opens, and Jaskier comes staggering out, wheezing and clutching his stomach as he makes his way towards Geralt.

“That-“ he says between giggles “that was the funniest and most adorable shit I’ve ever seen.” He hiccups, starts laughing uncontrollably again. “What…?”

“Lambert’s idea.”

Jaskier laughs again, desperately holding on to Geralt’s shoulder as to not keel over. “Of- of course it’s his idea, oh gods-“ He hiccups, finally calming down a bit. “Isn’t this from that one movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Isn’t it a romantic movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you trying to ask me out, Geralt?”

“… Yeah.”

Jaskier smiles softly. “I accept. But please- next time, you can just ask. There’s no need to go through all this trouble.”

Geralt resists the urge to smack his palm against his face. “Alright, I’ll remember that for next time.”

Jaskier looks back, sees multiple lights on in the windows, sees some neighbors frowning down at them angrily. “Better wrap this up or they’re gonna call the cops on us.” He leans forward, pressing a soft kiss against Geralt’s cheek. “Goodnight, Geralt.” He turns around and makes his way back to the apartment complex.

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #drabble #5 + 1 things #fluff #crack #everyone in this is a chaotic bastard #and i regret nothing #literally no one asked for this #but i do what i want babey #feral hours #fuck you spotify ads #modern au #the thing ciri says is shakespeare btw lmao

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emmerrr · 3 years

Note

Jordeclan going to an amusement park or a fair? They both just honestly need a break and some fun!!

anon i’m so sorry this took so long but hey i made it valentine’s day and there’s lynch bros content and i hope you like it (also on ao3)

Declan wakes up on the morning of Valentine’s Day not really aware that it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t need to go into work, and he trundles down the stairs into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee. Matthew and Ronan are still asleep, the latter of whom spent the night after driving up the previous day to go to an art show with his brothers. (Ronan had been less than subtle about his disdain for the ‘art’ in question; Declan had dragged them out early to go to a diner for some burgers. Brotherly bonding at its finest.)

He sits at the breakfast bar with his coffee and checks his emails on his phone like he’s reading the news. There’s a few work things, but not too much, all things considered. He sends a good morning text to Jordan, knowing in all likelihood she won’t read it until at least noon. The thought of her brings a smile to his face, and he wonders if he’ll get to see her later. They don’t have any solid plans in place, but their relationship has never been one that follows a rigid structure anyway. She’s been a breath of fresh air in every possible way.

An hour or so later, Declan hears Ronan moving around in the guest bedroom upstairs, probably throwing his stuff together before he drives back to Singer’s Falls. Not long after that, Matthew comes down the stairs, golden curls matted to his head on one side from where he’s slept on them.

“Mornin’,” he says through a yawn, and takes a seat. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want.”

Matthew hums. “I want eggs.”

Declan nods at the fridge. “Go on then.”

Matthew sighs but gets up again and opens the refrigerator, standing solemnly in front of it before slowly removing a carton of eggs.

He puts them down and makes a good show of looking lost as he meanders around the kitchen finding everything he needs. Declan knows he’s doing it on purpose, but goddamn if it doesn’t work. “For crying out loud, how do you want them?”

Matthew grins; he’s won this round. “Scrambled, please. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can make your own toast, though. And go and ask Ronan if he wants any.”

“Yes, sir!” Matthew salutes, and runs off to the hallway to yell up the stairs at Ronan.

A mountain of breakfast later, Ronan disappears again to have a shower, and Declan makes Matthew wash the dishes. He sits in the living room and turns on some nature documentary just for background noise, but only a minute or two passes before Matthew comes in and sits down.

“You cannot possibly have finished the dishes yet,” Declan says.

“They need to soak,” Matthew insists, eyes skating guiltily from Declan’s face to the TV screen. “Oh, is this the one with the penguins?” He sits down, and Declan resolves himself to finishing the singular chore he asked Matthew to do later.

“Yes, half a job Bob, it’s the one with the penguins.”

Matthew smiles indulgently and settles in to watch, but they both get distracted a moment later when they spot Ronan walking past, carrying a lot more than he originally had with him.

“Why do you have a big teddy bear?” Matthew asks.

“Is that a boom-box?” Declan asks.

“Is that a heart-shaped balloon with Adam’s face on it?” Matthew asks.

“What are you doing?” Declan asks.

Ronan leaves everything in the hall by the door and comes to stand just inside the living room, hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “Just gonna make a pit-stop at Cambridge, that’s all.”

Declan sighs. “It’s not exactly on your way. Does Adam even know you’re coming?”

“No, it’s a surprise. It’s a funny inside joke Valentine’s surprise.”

“What do you mean, Valentine’s surprise, it’s not Val—oh my god.” Declan puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, Declan,” Ronan says, the smile evident in his voice. “Forget, did you?”

Declan lifts his head. “It was a busy week at work.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I must have got all the romantic genes, it’s not your fault.”

Declan scowls but there’s little heat in it. He checks his phone and Jordan is yet to reply, which could mean nothing, but doubt now niggles in Declan’s mind. What if Jordan was expecting some kind of gesture and is now massively disappointed that Declan is so useless?

“What do I do? It’s too late to make any reservations.”

“Reservations are for chumps anyway, just go and do something fun,” Ronan says.

“Like what?” Declan snaps. All that’s running through his head is that he got Jordan some tyrian purple at great cost and at very short notice for their very first date. If her expectations for Valentine’s Day are high, he has no one to blame but himself.

“I’ll leave that up to you to figure out,” Ronan says. “I have to hit the road.”

Matthew laughs and elbows Declan playfully. “Ronan is a better boyfriend than you.”

“No he isn’t, shut up,” Declan says, which just makes Matthew laugh harder.

After Ronan hugs Matthew goodbye, Declan helps him carry the ridiculous gifts he has obviously dreamt up out to the car.

“Text me when you’re with Adam,” he says when he’s closed the trunk, “so I know you got there okay.”

Ronan opens the driver’s side door and levels Declan with a put-upon look. “Fine, I will try my very best to remember to text you when I arrive.”

Declan manages a smile. “Appreciate it. Drive safe.”

Ronan moves to get in the car, but hesitates, and turns back to his brother. “You’re not really worried that you forgot about today, right?” At Declan’s shrug, he continues, “Come on, Jordan’s cool, she’s not gonna care. Everyone knows Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

“Says the guy who’s driving several hours out of his way in honour of said bullshit day,” Declan says pointedly.

Ronan shakes his head. “Look, the day’s irrelevant; I’m driving several hours out of my way because I miss my fucking boyfriend and this is as good an excuse as any to go see him.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. Jordan likes you, for some unfathomable reason. She’s not gonna dump you because you didn’t remember to plan some posh, soulless valentine’s date.”

Abrasive as he is, Declan can’t deny that Ronan’s right. “When did you get so wise?” he grumbles, and Ronan smirks.

“Hey, statistically I’ve gotta be right about some things.”

“Once in a blue moon.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Ronan gets into the car, but Declan stops him before he shuts it. “You really think Jordan is cool?”

Ronan laughs. “Way too cool for you.”

Declan’s unwarranted fears about Jordan ignoring him fade as soon as she texts him back an hour or so later. She doesn’t mention the dreaded V-word, but she says there’s a fair in town, and asks if he wants to go.

A fair date sounds pretty perfect actually, and when he agrees, Jordan tells him she’ll pick him up at seven. She always does like to drive.

“I still haven’t got her a gift, though,” Declan tells Matthew. “Is it bad that I don’t have a gift?”

“You’re going to a fair,” Matthew points out. “Plenty of opportunities to be all manly and shit and win her something.”

“Language,” Declan says, and Matthew rolls his eyes.

“You should get her a card, at least.”

“Valentine’s Day cards are always so terrible, though,” Declan complains.

“So make her one. Jordan’s arty, she’d probably like that better anyway.”

Declan doesn’t like that both of his younger brothers are being smarter than him today, but nevertheless, Matthew is right, and Declan ransacks his office supplies to see what he can come up with.

He uses some high-quality photo paper to print out a picture of a pretty flower that he found online, then carefully cuts it out and glues it to the middle of the front of some card he’s folded in half. He frames it by cutting out strips of purple card and sticking them around the flower. Then he gets irritated with how shit it looks and considers throwing the whole fucking thing away and starting from scratch, when Matthew peers over his shoulder and says, “Aw, that looks really nice.”

So Declan keeps it, writes his message inside, and finds an envelope that is only a little bit too big to put it in.

Time’s getting on, so he goes to get ready. He has no idea what to wear for a date at a fair, and takes two tie options out to the living room to get Matthew’s opinion.

“Which tie is more appropriate?”

“Neither.”

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to. Don’t wear a tie. You’re not going on a job interview. Plus it’s February and you’ll be outside, put a sweater on.” Matthew does finally look at him now, and he sighs at Declan’s blue button-down and grey slacks. “This is what you wear for work, put some jeans on. You’ve like, met Jordan, right?”

“Alright, smartass, point taken.”

When Declan’s changed again, Matthew decrees his outfit of jeans and a fairisle sweater in navy tones boring but ultimately acceptable, which Declan figures is the best he’s going to get. He also thinks he’s going mad if he’s asking Matthew of all people for fashion advice.

He just has time to slip his coat on and put the card in the inside pocket before there’s a knock at the door, and Matthew runs to open it.

“Hiya, squirt,” Jordan says to him, which is funny because Matthew is taller than her.

“Hey. Declan tried to wear a tie.”

Jordan laughs, throwing her head back, and Declan finds there’s a dopey grin on his face even though his girlfriend and his brother are bonding over making fun of him. “Of course he did. Never fully dressed without a tie.” She meets Declan’s gaze over Matthew’s shoulder and winks at him.

“Hey, I’m right here,” he says, faux-wounded, and makes his way over to the door as Matthew heads back to the living room.

He kisses Jordan. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Have fun, guys!” Matthew yells, and Declan hesitates, poking his head in to look at his brother.

“What are you doing tonight? You can come with us if you want?”

“No way, man, I’m not third-wheeling on your date. Also it’s cute how you think I don’t already have plans, I’m extremely popular.”

“Uh huh,” Declan says, worries evaporating. “Modest, too.”

They leave, finally, and Jordan drives them to where the fair is set up, filling Declan in on any little anecdotes he’s missed since they last spoke. He’s happy just to listen to her talk; sitting in her presence is like recharging a battery, and he feels lighter than he has all week.

Parking is easy to find, and they huddle together as they walk towards the entrance, the lights from all the rides and the heat lamps looking bright and inviting beyond. Jordan slips her hand into Declan’s, and he tucks them both into his pocket as Jordan leans her head against his shoulder.

“I missed you this week,” she says.

“Did you?” Declan smiles. He likes being missed by Jordan. “I missed you too. I always miss you.”

“Well you say that now, but I’m going to destroy you at fairground games, so you might change your mind.”

Declan’s doubtful, but he grins at her amenably.

She holds up a finger. “But first, we need to go on a couple of super fast, spinny rides, because if we go on them after I’ve had something to eat I might just throw up all over you.”

“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Declan says. “Lead the way.”

Jordan, practically vibrating with excitement, drags Declan straight to the ride she keeps calling ‘the whirligig’, because it takes you round and round, faster and faster, while the carriage you sit in is also spinning. So it’s double the amount of spinning, and when they get off, Declan has to stop for a minute with his hands on his knees while Jordan lovingly laughs at him.

She takes pity on him and they go on the ferris wheel next. They kiss when it stops when they’re at the top, which Declan knows is cliché as hell, but he’s certainly not complaining. He pulls back a little, his thumb gently brushing along her cheekbone.

“I made you a card,” he says, a little embarrassed. Jordan’s warm brown eyes go wide and pleased.

“Oh yeah?”

He pulls it out of his pocket and starts to hand it to her nervously. “It’s not very good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking it from him. She opens it and smiles when she sees the flower. “So pretty.”

“It’s called a Middlemist red camellia. It’s like the rarest flower in the world. Or so Google tells me.” He knows that Jordan will know why he specifically chose this flower. He’s telling her something about who she is to him. She won’t miss the significance of that.

She brings Declan’s hand to her lips and kisses it gently, before letting it go and looking at the card again. “I love camellia’s,” Jordan says, “but I’ve never seen this one before.” She opens the card and reads the message Declan wrote inside, a soft smile growing the more she reads.

Jordan sighs and holds the card to her chest with her eyes closed. When she opens them again, she says, “I made you a card, too.”

She pulls it out of her own coat pocket, and Declan opens it. On the front is a colour pencil drawing of him, perfect hair, non-smiling, boring suit, but with the fanciest shoes he has ever seen; a more exaggerated version of the ones he was wearing when he and Jordan first met.

Declan laughs in joyous surprise. “Your card is better than mine.”

“My card is funnier than yours,” she says. “It’s not better.”

“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, looking at the portrait and cracking up again. “I think...I think I’m gonna frame this.”

“You should. It’ll be worth a fortune some day.”

Of that, Declan has no doubt. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

It’s Jordan’s turn to laugh, and she leans in to kiss Declan’s cheek. “I forgot, too. I didn’t realise until I went to grab a coffee and there were Valentine’s specials going on all over the place.”

“Ronan of all people reminded me. He drove up to surprise Adam at Cambridge.”

“Bless him, Ronan really is a gigantic softie.”

Declan grins. “Well he told me he thinks you’re cool. Too cool for me.”

“Aw, babe, he’s right!” Jordan says, laughing at his sad pout. “Unfortunately for me, I love you anyway.”

Declan shakes his head, smiling. “You’re a dick,” he says. “But I love you, too.”

The ferris wheel starts moving again, and when it stops, they go and try their hand at some games. Jordan comes out on top at ring tossing, duck hooking, the coconut shy, and the buzzwire, but Declan does pretty well at the mini laser quest and a balloon-popping darts game.

They end up at the shooting game stall, where you have to try and knock the cans over to win prizes. There’s a cute stuffed stegosaurus that Jordan has her eye on, and Declan pays for them both to have a go to try and win it.

They each manage to knock a couple of cans over, but there’s some that are way more stubborn and don’t seem to budge even when clearly hit.

“Another round,” Declan says when his go is finished. He sighs in frustration when the results are the same.

Jordan puts his hand on his arm. “You know these things are rigged, right? They’re weighted, it’s almost impossible to win the good prizes.”

The rational part of his brain understands this to be true. The monkey part wants the prize. “Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I have to win you this stupid stegosaurus. My manly pride is at stake.”

Jordan snorts. “Well how about we take your manly pride to that stall over there and I’ll let you buy me a churro, I’m starving.”

“...Churros sound good.”

Jordan links her arm through Declans as they follow their noses over to the churro stall.

“I really would’ve won it with one more go,” Declan feels the need to say.

“Sure you would,” Jordan says easily. “Maybe later.”

“Fuck later, it’s freezing. You wanna come back to mine? I’ll make you a latte.”

Jordan grins up at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Churros first though.”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

#the raven cycle #jordeclan #lynch bros #dreamertrilogy #anon #emma answers

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calligraphist-artemisia · 3 years

Text

Worldbuilding (Part 1)

(Cross-posted on Pillowfort.)

I've spent the past few weeks searching for resources and advice for how to outline things, because I'm kind of hopeless when it comes to organizing my thoughts in a way that makes sense to everyone, and while I've found some pretty great resources a lot of them were framed as a series of questions lumped together and there was something about it that just turned me off to it. (Maybe it was a little too strict?) And so, after searching for an easy way and coming up pretty empty-handed, I decided I'd make my own guide - which turned out more as an outline for a guide, but it works better for me because it feels a little more fluid.

What I ended up with was a bullet point list designed to guide me through the process. It's far from perfect and I keep going back to add new things, but that's one of the things I like best about it: something comes up that I hadn't thought about before and it's easy to slot it into place.

With these posts, I'll be talking about that process and sharing my outline so that you can make your own. I hope you find it useful.

The Basic Breakdown

For the most part, guides that I've seen are broken down into 5 key areas: Geography, Civilization, Politics, Economy, and Technology and/or Magic. Those are then broken down even further into specific categories.

For my own works I've added a 6th key point. I call it "flavor text". It's for all the little details that don't necessarily have direct relevance on what you're writing but are a fun detail to have on hand just in case. Could they fit into one of the Main 5? Sure! This is simply my personal addition because I want to keep these separate.

So keeping that in mind, my initial outline looked something like this:

I. Geography

II. Civilization

III. Politics

IV. Economy

V. Technology/Magic

VI. Extra Details/"Flavor Text"

(Do you want to know what the best part about bullet points is? You can move them around in whichever order you prefer.)

Like I said, it's pretty basic. You could open any book on worldbuilding, look at the table of contents, and it would be separated into different categories just like this. (Which, incidentally, is how I made my outline. I went through a few books, a few pdf documents, and pieced things together until I had a list that would work for me.)

Let's expand it a bit.

I. Geography a) Earth or Not Earth? b) Primary Location(s) c) Important Natural Landmarks e) Flora and Fauna f) Climate g) Minor Location(s)

You can, of course, have even more categories than this. I chose to focus on important details first, like what sort of world it all takes place on. (Is it Earth? If it isn't, what's this world called?)

Primary Location(s) could also be named Setting. It's there to name the important locations in your world - the places your characters spend the most time. Minor Location(s) would be places that are referenced or perhaps only visited once or twice. Or maybe it's simply to fill out a map of your world, if you're creating your own.

Important Natural Landmarks - things like mountains or rivers. Maybe your town is near the ocean or a lake? Maybe there's an active volcano nearby? Maybe a National Park plays a key role in your story? Details like these that the characters take note of and help flesh out the world they exist in.

Flora and Fauna is one that's important for some stories, less for others. Since I write fantasy, it's one that's important for me to include. You don't need to go overboard for this (unless your main character is a botanist or really loves animals), but naming and describing a few species can be helpful.

Climate is self explanatory and seems pretty simple but is still important. This is an easier one if your story takes place on Earth, but when you're creating your own world you have the opportunity to decide how your seasons work. (Or if your world even has seasons.)

Ready to expand it again?

I. Geography a) Earth or Not Earth? b) Primary Location(s) i. Cities and Towns ii. Important Buildings/Structures iii. Fresh Water Sources c) Important Natural Landmarks i. Mountain Ranges/Volcanoes ii. Rivers iii. Forests iv. Deserts v. Oceans/Lakes vi. Natural Borders vii. Ruins e) Flora and Fauna f) Climate i. Seasons ii. Weather iii. Vulnerabilities/How Weather Affects the Region g) Minor Location(s)

This third set of points is to help direct and remind me what I want to try and include for each category. Some of it is stuff that I need to know as the author, but it doesn't necessarily need to make it into the story.

So, what does this look like when I sit down to start writing down details?

I. Geography a) Earth or Not Earth? Aeolia is found on a parallel Earth. Shrouded by a magical fog created by the Gods of old to protect the children of the winds - the Anemoi, who are winged humanoid beings capable of magic.

I name my world - or rather, my island - and give a brief description about it and who lives there.

b) Primary Location(s) The island of Aeolia consists of one major island and several smaller ones just off the coast. A large mountain range and deep valley carves up through the center and slightly east on the large island. To the north of this valley is a large mountain and to the south it slopes downward to a freshwater lake. i. Cities and Towns Vroilada - a town that exists along the valley and ridges formed between the two mountain ranges. A river cuts through the valley and flows down into Lake Koimni to the south. Pathways cross the divide, crafted from living wood and vine and strengthened by magic. Houses are primarily built on the upper ridges, though some are carved through solid rock. It is home to a myriad of Anemoi and is the largest of the villages on Aeolia.

Not everything has to be a multi-sentence description, of course. Nor does it have to be a perfect description. This is all for your eyes only. What matters is that it's detailed enough for you. And also it should be easy for you to flip to and find when you're in the middle of writing and need a refresher on where you've located something.

This is where I'll end part 1.

Part 2 will be my full worldbuilding guide/list and I'll answer any questions you want to send my way.

After that will likely be a part 3 where I list and give links to some of the resources I found during my hunts.

#artemisia rambles #worldbuilding #writing resource #writing

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vaniccio · 3 years

Photo

sea’s wol challenge — v. starlight

This is a dream, she tells herself even as her lungs constrict in her chest. This is a dream.

But the sharp burn in her throat feels real. The fear crawling up her spine and numbing her fingers feels real. The slow, heavy gust of air brushing against her neck feels far too real, and she would recognize the oppressive figure looming at her back anywhere.

She takes shaky, stumbling steps forward until her feet knock against another body. Her blood runs cold.

Visions of sharp, grinning teeth flash across her mind. Then a clawed, gloved hand enters her line of sight and she jolts herself awake by pure will.

Dream, she tells herself in the resounding silence of her bedroom. Not real.

But the creeping panic transfers over no matter how much she tries to shove it down, and she doesn't quite manage to let go of her death grip on the bed sheets in time.

"Mihr?"

She feels the bed dip and hears the sheets rustle. Half-glazed eyes peer at her through the darkness, still heavy with sleep—and the sight triggers another wave of fear so fierce she freezes.

The soft hiccup that escapes her throat is enough to spark him to immediate awareness, but she's up and beelining for the bathroom before he can ask again.

. . .

It feels like she’s stuck in a loop sometimes. Every now and then she’ll get a good feeling, a rush of confidence that has her thinking she’s managed to claw her way out, to finally step off of whatever predetermined path fate has decided to put her on—and every time it ends with her feeling like she’s being dragged back by her feet.

It happens often enough where she’s long past thinking it’s a coincidence. Some part of her wonders about the Gods and their sense of humor and how she’d like to have a few strong words with Fate about taking a long, long vacation.

"I'm sorry I keep waking you like this,” she mumbles and rests her head on her arms. The stonewall is cold against her skin. Something solid to anchor herself to. “And you know you don’t have to get up with me.”

The hand rubbing soothing circles into her back doesn’t stop. “I know.”

“Though the fresh air helps.”

“Hm. Think that’s a sign that we need to clean.”

The lighthearted remark eases the knot in her chest. “You’re the one who tracks in mud more often than not, you know."

“And you’re the one with a library’s worth of musty books. Where do you think the dust comes from?”

“Don’t blame the spellbooks just because you can’t read them.”

The eyeroll that follows is so powerful she doesn’t even need to look at him to see it. She hides another smile.

Like always, the Mist is quiet at night save for the constant ebb and flow of the ocean, the rustle of palm trees, and the occasional cricket.

“Huh.”

She turns and finds him staring thoughtfully up at the sky. “The stars are similar here,” he says, brows furrowed. “The constellations, I mean. I never noticed.”

“You never compared them before?”

“Never gave it much thought.”

She cranes her head and squints at the glittering mosaic above them.

It's easy to recall the lessons from Leveva. About the Bole, Spear, Balance. White magic has always been a favorite—a tried and true method—but astrology has ever been a curiosity for her. Something about dipping into the power of the stars, rewriting events and playing with fate was far too satisfying.

Maybe that's why we don't get along, she thinks wryly at the stars. Constantly butting heads. Fate probably didn't like the constant meddling.

“Leveva did a reading for me way back when,” she says then, voice distant as she traces the familiar outline of the Ewer. "The first time we met."

“Who?”

“An astrologian in Ishgard.”

The next pause is a beat longer. “A what?”

Her lips quirk up. Of course, Norvrandt didn’t have the equivalent. And if it did, Ardbert wasn’t ever one to follow the development and branches of various forms of magicks.

"Urianger is one. And there's a place called the Athenaeum Astrologicum in Ishgard. You've noticed the telescopes around Coerthas, right?"

"Aye. I figured it was a hobby of theirs. Kholusia favored the stars as well, yet their use was mostly for navigating the sea." He frowns. "Can't see that getting much use in the mountains, though."

She hums in agreement as he turns and leans his hip on the railing to better face her. "It's somewhat similar. The Ishgardians watched the skies for signs of attack during the war. The astrologians use the skies and stylized cards for something similar—scrying the future, but also harnessing the power of the stars."

"The power of the stars," he repeats with a raised brow. "To ward off dragons?"

She grins as he crosses his arms, clearly dubious about the entire thing. "Yes, they'd raise an impressive barrier whenever the horde showed signs of taking flight."

"Really."

"Yes."

He considers her a moment before his eyes narrow in accusation. "No they didn't."

"How do you know?"

He holds her gaze, then leans in until he's looming, close enough she feels his breath on her skin. He's long since lost the ability to embarrass her, but her cheeks still warm at his proximity and under the focused weight of his scrutiny.

She tries to keep up the charade. Really. But as always, she cracks first and can't fully smother the grin tugging at her lips at the sight of him so comically serious.

He pulls back with the shadow of a smirk, arms crossed and entirely too satisfied. “I knew it."

"I hate it when you do that."

"No you don't."

"No I don't," she agrees easily, and reaches up to brush some stray hair from his forehead. "But you don't have to sound so smug about it each time."

He catches her wrist before she pulls her hand back. The gentle kiss on her palm sends a wave of warmth right down to her toes, and his eyes glow like he knows exactly what he's doing.

"And? What did this Leveva see in your reading?"

The soft press of his lips against her skin is entirely too distracting. "...She said, and I quote, 'the stars say you should run.'"

"Run?"

"Something about a tall, dark stranger being trouble."

"Sounds like it was solid advice," he murmurs, but doesn't let go of her hand. "You ought to have followed it."

She rubs a thumb against his cheek. "I’m glad I didn’t.”

#[alice in wonderland rabbit] i'm late! i'm late!#but it's ok #also something something proper astrologian lore #not here but i can't be bothered for 100% accuracy #anyway #memes? in my drabbles? more likely than u think #as always [insert shrugging emoji and idk.png here]#words to paper hhhhh #astra inclinant #the mihren tag #seaswolchallenge #it's been 800 years since i've done anything heavensward related #playing fast and loose with canon as always #ignore me i'm just throwing more fluff at the wall

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heli0s-writes · 5 years

Text

V. Exhibit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary: After all your hard work, the day is finally here. A/N: Part 5 of Mystery of Love.

The following month passed by in a hurry, as your thoughts were dominated by the constant thrall of work. One month was truly not enough to prepare, but you knew the implications of waiting until June passed- those positions in the fall would likely not be available; June was late enough.

Tony eagerly sprang into action and helped you transform your guest room into a photography studio, begrudgingly folding to your “outrageous peasant demands” of simple lighting, and two solid backdrops. When it was fully set up, you held a meeting with the team and prepped them over procedure and your proposal. You spoke plainly.

The show to view your work post-travels was primarily a guise to get a glimpse into their lives more intimately; you were under no illusion that it was anything else but 1) a shrewd plan for elites to rub elbows with other elites and 2) an opportunity for you.

Honesty was the best policy, and you knew they would appreciate it.

“If you consent to have your posed portrait taken by me in a studio setting- something we haven’t done before, thank you. If you don’t, I don’t blame you or hold it against you. It can be unnatural, uncomfortable, and I understand. Be aware- these images will be auctioned off. They will not, however, be duplicated. They are single prints.”

“Please make me rich.” Tony grinned as he spun freely in the swivel chair, “I mean, richer. Please make me richer.” After a round of glares from the team, he fessed, “Oh fine. Yes, you’ll receive a portion of the payment. You greedy little assholes.”

It didn’t take much more convincing for everyone to be on board. You were eager to begin and spent the first few days of June taking note of the kinds of images you wanted from each member. You thought about the representation of duality of Avenger and “being” whether it was human, super soldier, or an enhanced- or in Thor’s case, a god. But in the end, you decided on listening to Bucky’s advice and give ‘em hell. They were going to play by your rules.

Halfway through the month, you were so engrossed in the work, you’d barely had time to spend with either Steve or Bucky. They were sweet enough to make sure you had plenty of coffee on your days at the compound and would try to call before bed if you were in the city. Other than the occasional dinners together and their own photo sessions (which you were adamant on keeping strictly professional-save for a very stubborn session with Bucky), you hardly saw them.

Steve was called away on a diplomatic assignment with Natasha in Paris on the 13th. You were happy to hear that he wouldn’t be in any foreseeable danger and a tiny bit glad that he’d be busy doing something other than worried about your sleeping and eating habits. By the 24th, everything was nearly complete, and the only thing left for you to do was buy a dress and set up for the night of. You felt like a pile of wet rags and had even lost a few pounds from the stress and exertion.

The morning of the 26th, Steve and Natasha landed at the compound, disembarking from the quinjet. You were taking the day off to find a dress in the city; Tony had given you his credit card. It was a tremendous gesture you wanted to refuse until he reminded you that truthfully, you were doing him just as big of a favor as he was doing you. He had even encouraged you to get a custom gown early in the month and even passed the message along to various designers, but you adamantly refused, reiterating once again that it was not about you. Tony would have to face the disappointment of being the only one in a custom-made ensemble.

At 11, while rifling through a rack of silk and lace beauties, you received a call from Bucky.

“Hey, you,” you smiled. He’d been texting you all morning, updating you on Steve’s jet lag. “Can I come to you for lunch?” You sucked in a deep breath. “Buck, you sure? I’m in Manhattan.” “Yeah. Send me your location.”

There was no arguing with him when he made up his mind.

When Bucky arrived on 5th Avenue, he wore a black long-sleeve and jeans with his usual combat boots. You couldn’t help but smile at the classic cap and sunglasses combo as he plodded through the throng of tourists- looking very much like one himself. His hair was tied back to avoid sticking to his neck in the heat. He kissed your shoulder at the entrance of the store and you grazed his stubbled chin with a finger in response.

The walk to your favorite sandwich shop was relatively short, and Bucky let you lead the way, keeping a hand on the small of your back to keep you close. The two of you sat at the bar near the window after your food arrived and you let him know your surprise at his offer to meet you in the city. He shrugged it off as he took the sunglasses off his face.

“When I was on the run, I placed myself in different locations, but it was often smartest to hide in plain sight. Bucharest has a population of over a million people ‘n they’re so busy they don’t pay attention to much else; I don’t go into the city mostly because I don’t like it, hon’.” He took a bite of his sub and you did the same, snorting in delight when a bit of lettuce hung from his chin. Bucky rolled his eyes and sent you a lopsided grin before closing his mouth again over the sub, muttering. “You’re a punk.”

You felt laughter bubbling up in your chest as he swiped off the lettuce and flung it at you.

This was the Bucky you liked the most- playful, mischievous, still sweet in the center. Not to say there were parts of him you disliked, but you were careful with his more jagged pieces. The Bucky who scanned every room he entered, who always strapped at least three knives to his body, who scowled on impulse, who automatically put himself in front of you in response to loud noises needed more tenderness. The Bucky who texted you at three in the morning “just to see if you were awake” needed more tenderness, too.

The first time you woke up to one of those messages, you joked that he reminded you of a college boy making a booty call. Only after seeing him bleary eyed and on-edge did you ponder more deeply about it and ventured to ask if he had trouble sleeping because of nightmares.

He admitted he truly saw little in his dreams, but felt chasms that threatened to swallow him up, and the terror of that blackness kept him awake. You knew what awaited him in that blackness. Since then, you’ve always kept your phone on loud.

“Stevie got you a dress from Paris,” Bucky mumbled, wiping the corners of his mouth with a brown napkin, hiding the slightest hint of a smirk. “I don’t think it’s your style, though.”

You raised an eyebrow, sweeping bits of crust into the empty wrapper of your lunch. “Oh yeah? Steve picked it out? What’s it like?”

“It’s red. ‘S real nice, but it’s also red.”

You scrunched up your nose in concern. “Oh… I hope it won’t hurt his feelings if I don’t wear it.”

Bucky went to throw both of your crumpled trash piles away and returned with an understanding smile, “Nah. He’s a big boy. Party’s in two days, though. If you don’t find anything you’re gonna get stuck with it, hon.”

Sighing, you stood up and brushed off your shirt, “Yeah. I’ll look some more. I put a dress on hold earlier so if I don’t find anything else, I’ll go back to that one. Thanks for having lunch with me, Bucky.” You pulled absentmindedly on his shirt sleeve and tugged the wrinkles out of the elbow. Bucky took the opportunity to bend down and plant a kiss on your jawline, whispering that he missed you into your cheek.

“I’m not leavin’,” he said, removing the sunglasses that were hanging from the collar of his shirt, “Haven’t seen you in days, doll. I’m not leavin’ yet.”

The definitive statement was punctuated by another one of his keen stares. You swallowed as his clear blue eyes flitted back and forth between your own, finally settling on your mouth as you nervously breathed out a soft “Okay”. Your heart swelled in your chest as he smiled. You couldn’t help but lovingly follow the sly arc of his lips across and up to those joyful creases you so adored running from his eyes. Happy Bucky was your favorite Bucky. You wanted to make him look like this all the time. You felt so terrible that you’d been so busy and avoiding him.

Impulsively, you reached up and kissed him on the lips.

It was quick, and you stood back flat on your feet, hand shooting up to cover your mouth. Fearfully, you took a chance to peek at him. The two of you stood there next to the window staring at each other for a few seconds before Bucky broke out into a wide toothy grin.

You flushed from head to toe. Your first kiss. In a sandwich shop. The banality of it all dawned on you and before you had the chance to say anything, Bucky broke the silence with a hearty laugh. Soon enough, you joined in, burying your face in both your hands. People were starting to glance over to the window and stare, so Bucky grabbed you by the hand and briskly stepped out into the street. He caught your waist to turn you to face him, pressing your back against the brick wall of the shop. The chatter of Manhattan whipped around both of you in the background, full of footsteps and yelling, honking, dogs barking, construction. Bucky Barnes held tight to your sides as if you might get torn into in the sea of people behind him.

Under the shade of his cap’s bill, you could hardly see his eyes, but the light illuminated his mouth, which was pressed into a thin line.

You squinted as sunlight fell over your face, “Buck?”

The intensity of Bucky crashing his lips to yours ripped the breath from your lungs. He stepped forward into your body, pressing his broad chest against you, flesh hand pushing your torso against his. In the middle of the sidewalk, he erased all the noise of Manhattan. You could only hear his breath on your mouth as he parted and returned again and again. Three deep kisses later, he let you go.

You gulped, heart stammering, lost completely in ragged breaths and desperately trying to ignore the eyes of passing strangers who’d witness your moment of public affection. You had seen this coming for a while now, but it was still a shock.

Ever since the day on the couch, you had been trying to avoid physical intimacy, but it had been difficult to experience growing closer with Bucky and simultaneously disregard his longing for your touch. He was always holding back, like a predator in the tall grass.

“I wanna do so much more than that…” He whispered in your ear. His voice was deep, and you could hear his throat clenching as he swallowed. The sound burrowed its way into your brain, sending currents scampering through your body.

Bucky ran his hand along your jaw, one final kiss landing on the shell of your ear as he muttered, “When you’re ready, I will. Come on, you lead the way.”

All you could do was nod in response as he guided you in front of him, one hand resting again on your back as you tried to stay calm in the crowd. In a few mere minutes, the street changed as you turned a corner. Your heart was beginning to slow down again.

“I’m curious, doll,” Bucky called from behind you, running a finger up and down the small of your back, “What color was that dress you put on hold?”

From the way his words sounded, you knew he was smirking. “It was black.” You swerved to the side to avoid a man pushing a stroller and Bucky followed suit. Craning your head back to see his expression, your heart sped up again either by his tightening grip or his subsequent praise:

“Atta girl.”

The last Saturday in June was the 28th. Pepper had demanded that you stayed at your apartment until the evening of, setting you up with a full-day spa appointment on Friday. According to her (and your very exhausted body) you needed rest and pampering before the big night. She also insinuated that Tony was being incredibly high-strung with setting up; he wanted it to be a surprise, and if you’d step foot on the campus before he was ready, he might completely “lose it Bridezilla-style”.

You’d been video-chatting Steve at night on the phone before bed since spending the day with Bucky. He was at first disappointed that you decided not to wear the dress he’d gotten you but ultimately understood why: red was a high-profile color. He sheepishly admitted that he was a bit old-fashioned, and was a sucker for women in red. It was cute. You suggested that he ask Natasha instead.

Your heart swelled any time his face came on the screen and you couldn’t help but stupidly grin every night into the phone. He told you about the trip and his desire to one day take you to the city, glossing over the details of the errand itself. You didn’t mind- it wasn’t your job, and you likely wouldn’t have understood its significance. He brought up how he was concerned at first that the distance would cause discomfort- but perhaps it was the consent to distance that changed the rules. You knew where he was going and accepted it, and so neither of you were pained by the separation.

“Maybe on the more peaceful missions, you might like to come with me? It’d be like travelling again, huh?” You agreed, eager to see another endearing smile break across his face. You loved the way Steve closed his eyes as he smiled, long lashes folding to graze against his raised cheeks- it was a habit of his, and it made you curious to wonder what he thought of during those blissful expressions.

After your long spa day you ended your night with another video call, feeling the excitement growing closer and closer, emboldened by Steve’s encouragements. More changes were coming on the horizon and you felt ready to face them. You were glad to have both men by your side.

Promptly at 5, Pepper sent a car outside to wait outside your apartment door. The invitation you’d proofread for Tony stated that doors opened at 6:30 with a cocktail hour and viewing period before any announcements were made. You would be giving a talk at 8, unveiling the main auction piece at the end and then there would be a bidding period before the night unwinds with dancing. The event supposedly ended at midnight, but you were sure that was Tony’s way of ushering out the guests. You weren’t going to assume he’d turn into a pumpkin at the stroke of 12.

Blotting on the final layer of your lip stain, you swept over it with a coat of high-shine gloss. Your make up was done simply: filled in, full, arching brows; barely-there contouring to emphasize your bone structure; peach blush; and a single smooth black line over both your eyelids. Your hair was brushed back and tucked behind your ears, flowing over your shoulder in neat waves.

You wanted to be sleek and able to blend in, with just a touch of red-lipped-conspicuous.

Stepping into the lobby, you felt as if transported into a different world. Tony had transformed the chamber into a flawless gallery setting with your photographs, framed and displayed along the perimeter of the open-spaced room. He’d put in wall panels here and there along with several benches where viewers could sit, arranging it perfectly to where there was plenty of walking space and room to mingle. Along the right wall was an elegant backlit bar manned by three sharply dressed bartenders with dazzling smiles. Close by was a stage with a band plucking a lazy acoustic tune in their warm-up routine, accompanied by a harpist. Gorgeous floral arrangements stood tall on pedestals, their sweet scent hanging in the air. Servers wandered casually, silver trays in hand topped with hor d'oeuvres and champagne.

The first few guests were arriving, picking up pamphlets from the stand near the door and meandering through the maze of photos. The team was scattered around the room, dressed beautifully, all smiles. Natasha hypnotized in the stunning red gown Steve picked out. It was striking with an elegant sweetheart neckline and brocade skirt. Pepper wore violet tulle. Wanda was smoldering in a lacy brown long-sleeved dress.

The men were simply dashing, in various dark suits offset by their own choices of silk bowties and shirts. Sam’s collar brooches glimmered- two mirroring silver wings clipped neatly to the points of his muted garnet shirt collar.

Halfway to the bar, you came face-to-face with Steve, who wore a fitted deep navy suit and dress shirt, complimented by a silk burgundy tie. His hair- which had grown longer since you’d last seen him in person was swept back and to one side. He was clean shaven for the event. You realized you were staring, but it helped that he was staring right back.

“You look...”

“Oh m...my” You attempted to finish the sentence for him. Steve laughed, shrugging one shoulder, the drink in his hand sloshing around.

“Not quite what I was going to say- but very close.” He paused, looking you up and down before sweeping you up in a one-armed hug and whispering in your ear “I’ve missed you so much. You look incredible.”

Once back on your feet, you smoothed the front of your black dress and shyly smiled in response, feeling your heart flutter. The snug gown was made of a satin blend, moving and shifting ethereally and just barely swept the floor. Two hair-thin spaghetti straps held it in place, crisscrossing over your back. The neckline was a darting V-shape, stopping just half an inch above Steve’s mark.

You’d convinced yourself to be calm and cool, playing the part of a professional artist giving a talk, but it was hard to not be giddy when Steve looked so damn good. His arms were practically bulging out from the sleeves of his jacket. And the lightly spiced cologne he wore was filling your head up with smoke.

“Where’s um, Bucky?” You ventured to ask, steeling your voice.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear.”

Bucky rolled the last ‘r’ into your ear as he placed his cool metal hand on your bare shoulder, middle finger drumming against the thin strap. You stirred at the temperature, burning against your back as he moved to your right side, smirking at Steve. They must have planned this, you thought, or perhaps brevity between old friends was enough to place them on the same dangerous wavelength. You felt like a fresh carcass, exposed under sunlight while two ravenous vultures circled overheard.

He was dressed completely in black, save for a blood-red pocket square neatly tucked into the breast of his suit. His hair was left loose, one side tucked behind his ear, and he donned his signature 5 o’clock shadow. He didn’t bother to cover his metal hand tonight, which made him all the more fearsome-looking. Bucky must have made it his mission to personify the word feral.

Half-lidded eyes drank in your figure, appreciatively scanning up and down before catching on your left bicep. “You’ve covered up your arm,” He noticed. “Why?” The was an edge of hurt he tried to hide.

The offending black cuff glimmered in the light. “Same reason why I didn’t wear the red.” You replied. You lifted your chin to regard Bucky and he raised his eyebrows in surprise at your declaration.

Steve bobbed his head, just enough to share the message that he understood before plucking a champagne flute from a passing server and placing it in your grasp. You sipped and signaled to the entrance of the exhibit with your stiletto-encased foot, where Kristopher Byrne had just entered with a pamphlet and Tony Stark. “I’ve got to go say hi. Thank you for supporting me.”

It was a conclusive statement, and the thanks, although sincere, was a comment of courtesy to lighten the mood. You quickly squeezed both of their arms before stepping away, straightening your back and squaring your shoulders. The show had just begun, and you were expected to be engaged and conversing all night; you couldn’t kick it off with a lovers’ quarrel in the middle of the floor as much as you wanted to resolve the matter. Bucky would have struggled and there were, unfortunately, other pressing concerns.

The band began to belt out a tune, mellow and full of slow, savory notes. The lobby was half-full at this point, and more were waiting by the door. The boys watched you go, exchanging glances. Bucky was scowling.

“Don’t be like that,” Steve warned, “You got to spend all day with her, pal.”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.” He was being petulant, he knew. It was easier to be angry than to admit that his feelings were hurt. “Don’t lecture me, Stevie. Just wanna fuckin’ be with her. I’m tired of all this… shit.”

Steve chuckled into his glass as he took a sip, savoring the taste and looking at his friend through the curved angle of the rim. He’d experienced his fair share of Bucky’s seething tantrums; he knew it’d pass.

“Gotta admit, Buck. I liked seein’ ya miffed. You need a firm hand.”

Bucky scowled deeper at his friend’s cheeky comment as he watched your back make nice with a stranger. The itch inside of him was growing darker with every step you took away. He’d been good, played it safe and slow by your- and Steve’s rules, but every time it felt like you might scratch the surface of his desire, you’d backed off. Seeing his mark covered up on your arm only made it worse.

Sending Steve a pained look, Bucky quietly retreated to the bar.

Kristopher Byrne was a tall and lanky man with silver hair, fingers studded with multiple rings and designer glasses sitting low on his nose-bridge. The suit he wore matched Tony in embellishments, and it was obvious by that alone that they got along swimmingly. Immediately after introducing yourself to him, his solemn expression softened into an ecstatic one. He kissed your hand, raving about how he’d been a fan for years but that you’d always eluded his grasp. You immediately thanked him and asked if he was ready for a stroll through the displays.

Byrne was very interested in the photos you’d taken in Russia, pausing to talk about the social unrest there regarding sexuality. He applauded your shots in Thailand, complimenting the rich colors of Chiang Mai and the quiet moments you captured.

You spent the next half hour walking through the photos with Tony and Byrne, chatting here and there with other guests who had questions. The information cards next to each picture was brief and explained a little bit about the image but hearing it from your point of view was much more valuable to them.

Tony set up the exhibit to first show your Peculiar Pairs series from the travels before introducing the Avengers photos. The range of colors started at full spectrum and highly saturated with your travels before slowly changing into the black and white portraits you shot of each member.

Upon entering the space of black-and-white portraits, he was greeted with a three-by-four-foot framed photo of Steve in stark lighting. He stood in front of a black background in a white t-shirt, looking into the distance as a bright halo illuminated him from behind, catching the fine contour of his lashes and the tip of his sharp nose. The features of his face were lit by another light in front. His expression was almost angelic with parted lips and the barest hint of a smile.

Byrne’s eyes widened as he regarded it, eager to uncover more information about the man captured in the image. The info card in the corner simply read Steven Grant Rogers.

You watched on as Byrne rotated himself around the frame, pondering deeply at Steve’s aspects. Tony smirked and made a snarky comment about how he hoped Byrne was this excited about his own picture.

“Captain America,” Byrne finally exhaled, “Looks like … someone you could sit next to on the subway. Wow. Fantastic.”

You thanked him. Perhaps it was your bias speaking, but you casually mentioned that it was one of your personal favorites. Tony stifled a barking cough.

Byrne led the way down the path, soliciting your process with each session. You were tight-lipped but let loose of what was necessary to keep him interested. It didn’t take much; there was nowhere else neither he nor any other guest could find a close-up portrait of Natasha wrapped tight in a bathrobe, hair wrung-dry and damp, chin resting on her fist, making such fierce eye-contact as if challenging the gaze of the person who’d caught her in a private moment.

Or Tony, a face well-known to smirk, sneer, and blow kisses, suddenly severe and deep in thought, tinted glasses hanging from his teeth.

Thor grinned behind a half-empty glass of beer in his portrait. Sam was reading a book. Bruce was cutting up a breakfast of an omelet and potatoes.

Bucky’s photo elicited gasps from Byrne as well as the crowd he’d started to draw around him. The session you had with him was rather difficult, since he challenged you at every turn. So many images from your roll you’d deemed too stern, an aspect that you didn’t want captured of Bucky. The Winter Soldier was grim and ominous. Bucky, your Bucky (as hesitant as that statement was), was not. You refused to let him resign himself to the Soldier’s shadowy persona, especially not after knowing just how bright he could be.

It had taken almost two hours of careful conversation for him to let you turn off the lights and put on music. You chose to play one of your favorites- a collection of Bill Withers’ essential hits, letting the suave compositions fill the room. He was ready to argue when the first few notes came on, but you strictly shook your head and brushed out his hair with your fingers before moving on to massage his tense neck. Jagged edges, you chanted in your head, take care of those jagged edges.

It was an intimate moment from anyone else’s point of view- but you were so occupied with ensuring a good photo, you had willfully ignored all signs of pleasure from your subject. He leaned into your touch the harder you pressed, and when you reached down the round collar of his black shirt to feel the muscles of his back, he had started panting hard and fast.

You asked him to freeze and quickly ran back to snap a few shots. Then, certain you’d gotten what you needed, you ushered Bucky out of the room with a short apology before anything escalated.

The resulting photograph was Bucky’s side-profile leaning back on the palms of his hand on a stool, grey background blurred and out of focus. The collar of his shirt was stretched and warped around his neck under dense wavy hair. His eyes were half open, distracted by something in the distance, lips closed, corners turned down in a wanton pout. The muscles in his arms were thick and contracted as he gripped forcefully on the seat. There was a fuzzy shadow cast over him, just enough to obscure a corner of his shoulder and clenched jaw.

The card read, James Buchanan Barnes.

Kristopher Byrne clapped and ran the back of his hand over his forehead.

“This one… just takes my breath away. This is really Sergeant Barnes? The Winter Soldier? He looks so helpless… So unlike the image I have of him.”

You searched across the expanse of the room to find the sergeant in question. Next to him, Steve firmly patted his shoulder as they watched you stand beneath Bucky’s picture. With a slight swing of your hips, you unflinchingly moved on.

At 8, the band winded down their percussions and a spotlight found Tony at the center of the lobby, microphone in hand. Guests gathered around as he began to speak. Two workers wheeled out a display that was covered up by a black cloth.

“Everyone, may I please have your attention.” When the crowd settled down enough for his liking, he continued effortlessly. “I’d like to formally welcome you to the exhibition. The photographer of the night is a friend of mine; you might know her as the visionary behind the popular Soulmate Series and the subsequent Peculiar Pairs- wow, what a mouthful, huh?” A round of soft chuckles was raised.

You stood next to Natasha and Pepper, taking a final sip of your third champagne flute before handing it off to a server and thanking him. Your heart was picking up a rhythm in apprehension of your approaching time to speak. Tony was leaps and bounds more charming than you, and you could only hope you wouldn’t trip over your feet on your way up.

“She’s taken the world by storm with her humor, wit, and sensitivity on a subject we’ve all heard before, and continues to shed a novel light on Soulmates. To us here at the Avengers Facility, she’s our lovable Public Relations twerp, near and dear to our hearts.” He paused. You were positive you were tearing up as pinpricks burn your nasal passages.

“Please give a warm round of applause to the one, the only…”

Tony flourished his pointer finger over the crowd before finally settling on you, the spotlight zooming over to shine on the water pooling in your eyes. He finally called out a boisterous thundering of your name as the room erupted in applause.

The room blurred as you stepped towards Tony. Mechanical movements and muscle memory guided your actions when he gave you a loving hug and kiss on the cheek. The microphone was suddenly in your hands and you began to speak, praying for whatever god above (or here- Thor, if this might be your territory) to bless you with grace.

“Thank you everyone for coming out tonight. And thank you Tony and Pepper, who’ve made all of this possible for me.”

It felt like there were half a million eyes staring. You only needed to find your footing in four blue ones. Pressing onward, you continued, hoping the quiver of your throat would flatten itself out as you began to chronicle your body of work. It was a speech you’d given before in multiple interviews, you just needed a lead into the meat of the lecture.

“The photos you see tonight of the Avengers were taken with a simple message in mind: humanity. So often we regard them as these supernatural saviors- which they can be and frequently are; Thor, for one, is an Asgardian god.” The crowd lightly chuckled, and Thor, in the back, raised a sizable glass of wine in the air.

“I didn’t want to create more cults of personality around them, I wanted you to see the parts of them you could identify with, juxtaposing the abnormal with the normal. Your heroes eat breakfast, read books, take baths... just like you.” There was contemplation gazing back at you in the massive sea of unblinking eyes. Some people chewed on their lips pensively. Others were nodding along in agreeance.

“They hurt, like you.” You looked at Bucky, who met your gaze with a silent apology, “They love, like you.” You looked at Steve, who bit his lips in a smile. “They have soulmates, like you. And with that, we come full circle.”

You turned your body to face the shrouded display and pinch the cloth between two fingers.

“I’d like to start the auction period off with piece de resistance. As with all our photos tonight, when you bid on them, know that if won, they will be singularly yours. Forever. No duplicates will be made; the files have been destroyed.” Tugging on the sheet with a flourish, you swiftly pulled it off the polished stand to reveal a framed photo of the Maximoff twins. The discarded fabric tumbled to the floor with a flutter.

Pietro stood shirtless and defiant in the photo, black jeans hanging from his hips, the barest hint of his boxers peeking out. His body was smooth and hard, naturally flawless thanks to his inhuman healing abilities. Next to him, Wanda faced away from the camera in a black racerback, her head turned to regard her twin. Her hand drew a line across his chest, wrist relaxed on his far shoulder, polished black fingernails lovingly twirled a bleached curl. Their Marks were in full view, and the audience collectively sucked in a sharp breath of surprise.

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff: Avengers, twins, soulmates.”

The room erupted once more in applause. You handed the microphone back to Tony and disappeared into the crowd.

You felt ill.

Clutching on the smooth marble countertop, you stared at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. The dim yellow lighting from the shell-shaped wall scone flooded the room and made you look even more jaundiced. You had held it together for a whole three hours but now it was time to dump your entire stomach’s contents into the closest toilet. You barely made it before the champagne and bits of cheese ejected violently from your mouth.

You waited briefly for the nausea to pass and when it didn’t you returned to discharge the rest of your vomit into the bowl. In the stall a few spaces down, someone flushed before cautiously exiting. Three clicks of footsteps closer and there was a very light knock on the door that separated you from them.

Wanda stood over you, eyebrows tightly knitted in concern. She hoisted you up and the toilet flushed automatically upon registering movement. You wobbled to the counter again, opening the various cabinet doors before finding some mouthwash to gargle.

“Can I help you?” She asked, taking a cloth napkin from the wicker basket in the middle and dabbing around your red mouth after you’d spit into the sink. You sighed deeply, holding your hand over your torso. “It’s been a long month… that was actually more cathartic than traumatic.” She nodded in support.

You took the napkin from her and viciously wiped off the lipstick with it, peppermint smell lingering from your mouth. Your eyes began to focus and un-focus competitively and ghostly trails of color floated all around your head. Wanda followed your gaze with her eyes before pressing a warm palm to your temple.

“I can take it away, if you’d like,” she held up a splayed hand, fingers crackling with that ghostly energy of hers. Exhaling, you only nodded as she returned the heel of her palm to your forehead. A rush of tingles travelled up your body and into her hand, and you feel every inch of your skin crawling towards her. You’d forgotten how exhausted you’ve been for the past month as your head throbbed and ached against Wanda’s touch, mumbling what you hoped was a sincere-sounding thanks.

When she finishes, Wanda lifts up your head with her finger and smiles. “All better, no?” When she walks you into the lobby, you feel yourself renewed with each step.

Steve thinks he can find you in any universe out there. Any timeline. Any dream. He’s got the shape of your body branded inside his brain. Every eyelash, every fine line, every damn pore.

When you cross the room with Wanda on your arm, smiling, he notices the lipstick has been rubbed off and your mouth is pink and raw. When you catch sight of him watching, Wanda departs gracefully and whispers into your ear a sweet note, wishing you a fruitful night onward. Your mind stills at her words, and your heart picks up a slow, steady beat when your feet end up in front of Steve at the edge of the room.

Steve knows he can.

He bends over to pull a lock of wavy hair into his hand and kiss it. The room is silent, conversations have long muted because of auction taking place. You’re no longer present, long gone from the party and adrift only in the blue-green sea of his gaze.

Steve allows the strands back onto your shoulder and they cascade over your back. He lets the scent of clean shampoo and something that is purely you wash over him. The crisp smell of seafoam and orange peels, summer rain, warm laundry in the sun. There’s a sheen layer of sweat in the dip of your neck that he’d love to get a mouthful of. The flame in his chest triggers.

He’ll have to thank Wanda later. Your posture is the most relaxed he’s seen you all night. The stiff square shoulders and domineering gait was a side of you he hadn’t seen before, a sight he couldn’t help but feel proud of as you commanded the room. However, he loved the natural you in front of him now most.

He doesn’t have to hear your words to know how you feel, but listens anyway.

“Thank you,” You smile, looking only at him, vaguely gesturing to the room full of people. Your voice has dropped low and earnest and you squeeze his hand just a little bit before anyone else sees. “I... I couldn’t have done this without you. I would have never done it.”

He nods and bows his head ever so slightly, peering at you through lashes. “I’m happy to have helped. You know that, sweetheart. I know you’re capable of so many great things… I’m glad you’re feeling better.” He rubs the edge of your mouth with a finger.

“Yeah.. I guess you’re used to seeing me like this, huh?” You giggle, embarrassed and remembering all the times you’ve thrown up because of his presence.

“I think even then, I had a feeling. Just… too afraid to come forward. After I learned how to use a computer…” He’s smiling at the memory, “..I used to spend all night looking at your photos… trying to find a picture of you somewhere.”

The thought of Steve, back then, already captivated by anything to do with you causes your breathing to pick up. You suck in air through your nostrils quickly as if you might be suffocating. A long moment passes as you pinch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Honey?” He asks with a smile. He knows what’s coming.

You’re spellbound in his gaze, trapped like a moth, wings already soldered off by the flame. “I’d like to stay the night, I think. With you... and … B-Bucky.”

Steve plucks your hand from your side and kisses each knuckle. “Of course. Tony already said he’ll handle the rest of the show and paperwork. Let me know when you’re ready to go. We’ll take it slow.”

It’s a promise, and he doesn’t have to wait for your next words to know what you want. But he does so anyway. He needs to hear it.

“I’m... ready now.”

When Steve slips his hand over yours and feels the familiar pulse of your thumbprint, he knows. In this universe, this lifetime, or the next, or the next after that, he’d be able to find you. He is yours; you are his. With every step, he lets the fantasies he’s been occupied with disperse, focusing his attention solely on your figure at his side. The hallway muffles the sounds of the party and each step grows louder as you depart hand-in-hand.

In the darkness of his room, your Soulmate kneels and unbuckles the strap of your stiletto, letting his fingers graze over your feet. He’s meticulous as he slips them off one at a time before trailing those calloused palms up your calves underneath the dress. The silky cool fabric brushes his knuckles, a stark contrast to the heat of your skin. You’re trembling against his hold as he continues upward, resting them on the back of your thighs, squeezing gently.

“Sweetheart, you’re shaking.” He presses two kisses to the top of each thigh underneath the dress. His hot breath sends tingles slinking upwards into the pit of your core. “We can stop any time. We can stay in bed together and just sleep. I’d love that.”

You shake your head and place your hands over his, pulling them up even higher, over the apex of your bottom, brushing over your underwear, and catching in the tightness of the fabric. The motion is all he needs, and Steve deftly reaches up to untie the knotted bow at the small of your back.

The satin falls off your shoulders and pools at your feet.

Next Chapter

#marvel #mcu #stucky x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader x bucky barnes #soumate au #Mystery of Love heli0s #reader insert #fanfiction

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mypersonalrambling · 4 years

Text

Soothing

Warnings: Describes a panic attack, mentions of anxiety

Pairings: Valter x Reader

Word Count: 2208

Author’s note: I wrote what is probably considered a less traditional panic attack. However, I think it’s important to show not everyone experiences things the same way.

Requested: Yes. Sorry for taking so long. I hope you enjoy it :)

Summary: Valter does his best to help calm your anxiety during a panic attack.

You awaken this morning in a slight panic. Valter’s movie premiere is this evening. He’s used to them, having grown up around the spotlight. You take a few moments to mentally prepare yourself for the day. You get up, needing to run a few errands before this evening. Taking a quick shower then grabbing some candy to eat on your way. When you’re anxious it’s difficult for you to eat anything with real nutritious value. The more anxious you are, the more junk food you want to shovel down your throat.

Popping by the alterations shop hoping the dress fits correctly, otherwise, you didn’t know what to do. The elderly woman, Opal, who owns the shop is a sweetheart. She always has snacks, tea, and makes everyone feel like family.

“Hello Dear, excited about tonight?”

“Kinda. I’m more nervous than anything. I’m not used to being in front of so many people.”

“Dear, you’ll be fine. Stick close to Valter, he can be your guide.” Sometimes you forget how much she knows about everyone in town. She takes a few minutes to return. The dress is stunning, it’s floor-length, black, quarter length sleeve with a v neckline. It was two layers, a solid black layer covered by a subtle lace overlay. “Are you coming, Dear?” Opal repeats, waving you back to the fitting room.

It takes several minutes for you to get the dress exactly how you wanted it. The underlay is the type of silky material that takes maneuvering to make it lay how you want it. Opal helps you zip it up, allowing you to see the full effect of the glamorous gown. “It’s perfect, Opal. It fits impeccably, thank you.”

“Of course, now take it off and we’ll have some tea.” There is no use arguing with her, as she never takes no for an answer. Opal seems to always have wisdom to bestow upon you, even if you didn’t ask for it. She likes to laugh at her younger self about not listening to her elders, so she is going to do her damndest to get the next generation to listen so the same mistakes aren’t made. You take as much advice as she’s willing to say.

Your next stop is to have your hair and makeup done. It isn’t a necessity but you feel better about having someone else do it to take a little stress off yourself. Valter told you he’d come with you but you didn’t want to seem like a bother. The woman did your hair in a simple, elegant style. The style accenting your face, makeup, and dress. You decided to go with a glam look; smoky eye, eyebrows filled in nicely, plenty of blush and contouring, pushing yourself out of your comfort zone, you let choose a bright purple lipstick to add a pop of color to your otherwise colorless outfit.

Before leaving, you buy a tube of it so you can do touch-ups. Hurrying home, you change as quickly as possible. Looking in the mirror, you were astonished about how stunning you look. It’s rare you are able to dress up and you love it. Although you figure dating Valter there will be plenty of opportunities.

The closer the time comes to leave, the more anxious you became. You attempt to stop your mind from obsessing over the thousands of things that could go wrong. What if you fell or made a stupid face? It would be on the internet forever and would surely be attacked online. Even though you aren’t in the industry, dating Valter gave you just a sliver of what it’s like.

The thoughts soon became endless, your mind not able to control all the racing thoughts. Sliding down to the floor of your bedroom, you can do nothing but simply stare at the wall. It isn’t until you heard Valter calling for you that you realized you aren’t even close to being ready. You will your body to move, to stand and get dressed. However, it can’t, the only thing able to move is your mind.

“Baby? Baby? There you are. Why are you sitting on the floor? And why aren’t you dressed?” You turn to look at him, but no words come out. You’re afraid if you begin talking the words won’t stop. “Baby, are you alright?” He slides down next to you, suit and all, not caring if it becomes messed up. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into him. “I don’t know what’s wrong, but are you having a panic attack? I know you become quiet when you’re anxious?” His concern seeping through his voice. Valter is doing his best to remain calm during this situation.

A few minutes later you’re able to conjure some words. “Please...hold me tighter.” He does as he’s told with no questions. He wraps his arms around your body, pulling you as close as possible, shifting carefully until he’s lying on his side with you next to him. He doing his best to ensure there is barely any part of your body he isn’t pressing into his. “Thank you.”

What seems like an eternity later you can feel your body begins to calm slightly. “You can...you can let go now.” Valter appears hesitant but still complies with your command. Valter helps you sit up letting you use him as a support. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Baby, it’s alright. Are you okay? That’s all I’m worried about,” his voice is sweet.

“I, um...I’m not okay, but I will be. I was just so worried that I'd embarrass you or myself at the event tonight.” You play with the hem of your shirt, feeling embarrassment course through your body.

“You could never embarrass me. Have you been feeling this way for long?”

“Probably for last week.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? We could have talked about it. It wouldn’t have upset me and maybe I could have helped you work through your emotions.”

“You have so much going on, I didn’t want to bother you with my annoying thoughts. I’m always anxious and self-conscious. I don’t know how you put up with me.” Tears start to well in your eyes, however, your will power isn’t strong enough to keep them from flowing. When you can’t hold it in any longer, you turn away so he won’t see you crying.

Valter almost always knows what you don’t tell him or show him. “Hey, look at me,” he pulls your face towards him. When you don’t look at him right away, he pulls your face up so you have to look at him. “You will never upset me by telling me how you’re feeling. We work things out together, no matter how hard it is. I want you to know that I’m here no matter what. Please don’t forget that. I love you, Baby.” He wipes the tears streaming down your face while placing a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Thank you. I just overthink everything. It’s hard to explain to someone that doesn’t experience it or maybe as much of it as I do. I love you too Valter. I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

“Oh no, don’t get this twisted. I’m the one who wonders what I did to deserve you.” You can’t help but crack a smile. “Not to sound insensitive, but do you want to go tonight? If not I can cancel.”

“No, no you can’t cancel. But honestly, I don’t want to go. I’m still trying to calm down.”

“Are you okay with me going? I’m not going to leave if you’re not feeling well.”

“Valter, you need to go to your own movie premiere. You’re one of the main characters. I’ll be fine. Probably just watch trashy TV and eat junk food.”

“Why don’t I see if Eija can come to keep you company? You know she’s been dying to see you.”

“I don’t want to be a nuisance.”

“Not a nuisance, she’ll be ecstatic. She’s been bugging me about seeing you. She says I’m hogging you. I have to remind her that you're my girlfriend and not hers,” he teases.

“This may not be the right time to tell you, but I’ve been secretly dating Eija. You’re just a cover. Don’t take it harshly, we were just waiting for the right time to tell you.” A smile pulls at the edge of your lips. He pushes you aside, a wide smile spread across his face.

Valter doesn’t leave until Eija appears at the door. The two of you spend the next few hours watching reality TV, eating junk food, and catching up. Eija gives you advice on how to be less nervous when it comes to dealing with premieres. She even shows you how to pose correctly to get the most flattering picture.

The later it became, the more tired you feel. The worst part of panic attacks could be how draining it is. Around midnight Eija begins to pack up her things to go. “I’m sorry, Love, but I’m gonna have to get going. Unfortunately, I have to get up early tomorrow. Zeke will never let me hear the end of it if I stay out too late.”

She makes the awkward shuffle of not wanting to leave, but knowing she needs to. You shuffle from the living room to the hallway. As the two of you stand to talk, Valter walks in startling you both. “What are you doing here? The after-party can’t possibly be over,” you question.

“It’s not, I only stayed for an hour. I couldn’t get you off my mind. I know you said you were fine, but I know you. You don’t always tell the full truth if it’s going to inconvenience someone. So, I thought this was the best compromise. I went for a little bit but came home to you. Also, I brought you this.” He makes a show of pulling out a small thing of your favorite food and one of your favorite drinks.

“Who knew you were so mushy?” You taunt, taking the gifts, setting them on the small table next to you. You pull him by his suit jacket until his face is barely centimeters from yours. Valter closes the rest of the distance, pressing his lips onto yours. When you're kissing him, nothing else matters, everything melts away. You’ve never been with someone who’s simple touch can have an overwhelmingly joyous feeling curse throughout your entire body, until Valter.

A subtle cough pulls your thoughts back into the moment. “As much as I would love to stand here and see my little brother suck face. I should be getting home.” You never knew sarcasm could run so strong in a family. There isn’t one Skarsgard that didn’t use sarcasm eighty percent of the time. Eija gives you both a hug before leaving.

You follow Valter to the bedroom so he can undress, knowing how much he dislikes dressing up. He is someone much more comfortable in casual attire. He looks good in anything, but there was just something about him in a suit that did things to you. “It’s not polite to stare, you know?” He jokes, knowing exactly what seeing him dressed up did to you.

Patting the bed next to you, he sits and begins to tell everything that happened at the premiere. He makes it sound effortless as if being in front of so many people and cameras are natural. It’s easy to tell this has been one of his favorite works so far as he reminisces about days on set and how happy he was to see his co-stars again tonight. You could listen to him talk about his passions for hours. Disappointment runs throughout your veins. If only you could have overcome your anxiety, then you could have experienced the night with him. You know there would be many more chances, however, who knows if you would be able to gain control over your anxiety then. “Hey, you okay?” Valter asks, clearly able to see you are overthinking.

“Just hearing you talk about tonight makes me sad I missed it. You were so gracious and let me stay home, which I appreciate. I still feel terrible.” He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his chest, just like earlier that day. The calming effect is almost immediate.

“I know nothing I can say will ease your mind. You already know all I care about is making sure you’re alright. And there will be plenty of chances for you to come to premieres with me. That is if you want to, I would never force you to go. They can be fun, but the after parties are much better. Which you can always go to even if you don’t like the first part.” Valter runs a hand along your back, “Why don’t we go to sleep? You need to give this brain a rest.” He says poking your forehead after every word.

“Heyyy, stop that,” you pout. “But yes let’s go to sleep. I’m exhausted and I’m sure you are too.” The two of you drift off, with you still wrapped in his arms.

#valter skarsgard #valterskarsgard #valter skarsgard imagine #Valter Skarsgård #tw panic attack #tw anxiety #my writing #mine #writing

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