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dangandisiacs · 7 months

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“sickly sweet.” nagito komaeda + reader

cw: emetophobia, gender neutral reader, sick fic

a/n this isn’t fetish i swear :p also i’m not right in the head - sort of long? kinda gross lolz. this is depraved as hell.

- mod phenomena

The past few days had been difficult. Nagito had caught a bad case of the flu. (no matter how many times he assured you he could take perfect care of himself, you stayed anyway.) Whatever he had, you had too. Miraculously, you hadn't come down with a single sniffle. Disregarding the concerns of something more serious, he seemed to be perfectly honest.

The bedside table you shared was littered with all sorts of pharmaceutical paraphernalia. (anything but the casual KY lubricant that had been pushed to the side.) "You don't have to do that." Nagito's raw voice pitied you from your side. "I don't have to." You reasoned, tilting your head to meet your poor love. His chapped lips quivered open to speak, but you were quick to interrupt. "I want to." You smiled. (not taking any of his words too seriously.) You scooted in closer, residing just by him on the bed. Your thigh would rub against his clothed hip, unknowingly teasing him with what he had been deprived of. (only a few days?! that was far too long. even the sight of your pretty face was enough to make him worse.) Your movements were careful and slow. You hadn't rushed a thing. You put tender care into everything you were doing.

You pressed the wet cloth you had recently ringed out against his cheek, carefully patting off any of that sticky sweat. "A fever you can't sweat out, huh?" You frowned, bringing it up to his forehead. Nagito lifted his wrist to feel for your fingers, pressing it against yours.

(a soft hum from him when feeling your warm skin. the only thing separating your pretty hands from his forehead was something that would actually make him feel better.) "Why don't you leave me here? .. I'd certainly die happy. Intensely happy." He worked himself up, using whatever voice he had left to tell you that. He feebly sat up more in an attempt to continue this delirious nonsense. (it was sweet.)

"Nagito, You don't mean that." You poorly hid your smile, pulling the cloth from his forehead. It was hard to discern what was cool water and what was warm sweat. (leaving stray hairs to stick to the washed-out skin. he looked terribly feverish. but still pretty to you..) "I wouldn't lie to you. I'd be so happy to die this way ... at your hand.." He continued, wheezing out a raspy laugh. "At your care .. Out of the pure kindness within you. You pity me.." His voice softened at the end of that sentence.

"No. I don't pity you, Nagito." You assured, focusing on the thermometer you had sifted out from the bedside table. "You do pity me. You only do this with me because you look down on me. " He craned his sore neck down, groggily leaning against your arm. You patted his bare back, rubbing the palm of your hand against the sweat-drenched skin. Indefinitely burning hot. (hadn't you gotten used to this?) "I'm ruining this .. This could be the last time we ever speak?!" He leaned off of you with pure devastation striking his sickly being. (each time he sat up, he felt so nauseous! but speaking to you was more important.)

"It's not .. " You let out a hitched breath, running your fingers up his spine. (a pathetic groan from him. (rejection of your words? he was putty in your hands every time you touched him. that was nothing new.) “Sweet - You're gonna make yourself sick." You pressed your free hand to his chest, gently pushing his back to the properly set up pillows. "Hahah.. y/n is so nice to me." He giggled to himself. Though he did comply with you. He took in deep breaths, glancing down at the hand pressed against his warm chest. You didn't need a thermometer to know the extent of his fever. (healthy or not, he was like that.)

Nagito spoke your name in low words, reaching for your wrist. "You're so good to me." He bit down on his lower lip, peeling at the chapped skin. "You show me what it's like to feel cared about." He uttered, taking hold of your wrist. Enough to press his thumb against it. Enough to feel that pulse of yours. The blood coursing through your arteries. "I love you - love you so much." He paused the chewing of his lip, bringing your hand up to his face. Very warm. "I love you too Nagito." Your smile was weary. "But, you're burning up.." You were concerned, hastily pressing your palm down. (just as he had.) Weary eyes met yours and narrowed with his proclamations. (it isn't like you didn't know he loved you. he was only speaking it into existence once more. even if he wasn't feeling all that right.) "I love you dearly, I love you so, so-so much- with everything that's left of me.." He nodded, leaning against your palm, rubbing it against his cheek. It felt very nice.

"It's alright .. I love you too." You gave into his desperation, rubbing your thumb against his face. (the best you could, with his attempts to feel your palm as close as he could to his blotchy red complexion.) "I could die," Nagito sniffled hard and let out an exhausted breath. "I could die right now in this very bedroom, and I'd be luckier than I've ever been in my entire life," He hummed, uncomfortably shifting his weight before you. Rubbing. Rubbing your hand against his face. His stomach was aching. But not from the flu.

"Nagito," You glanced down to the thermometer in your hand, (which was now prodding his temple. It wasn't like he minded.) "Can you let me take your temperature?" You asked of him. "I'm sorry-" He pouted like a near child. Nonetheless, his trembling fingers released yours. "Thank you." You scooted back a little and rested a hand on his thigh. (you could feel the sting of sickly sweat from beneath the fabric of his boxers.) Even if he was feverish out of his mind, it was warming to hear. Or concerning.

He was very obedient. Blinking tear-glossed eyes right before your own steady gaze. Your hand on his thigh was so cold (compared to his skin,) and all he wanted was for you to just touch him. "Can you open your mouth for me?" You asked, teasing the stick of the thermometer before it. Those words gathered a twitch of his leg under your hand (and a twitch of cock. uncomfortably feigning friction against his boxers. at this rate, he could puke on you right now. let alone fuck you. your pretty fingers were burning right into his skin. why was this coming onto him so suddenly? it wasn't very hard to fornicate Nagito up like that.)

You didn't know his complexion could burn any warmer. No, this was his attempt at lending you his charisma. (teasing. badly.) "Oh-! You're so straightfowaa-h" You crammed the thermometer stick into his open mouth, interrupting whatever innuendo he was pulling on you. (usually, it was him begging you to open your mouth. what he would do to have the smothered cock of his inside your throat? squeezing around the lathered mucus and gags-) You tapped your finger against the end of the thermometer, eyeing down the digital numerals after each second. "Nagito, It seems the only way to keep you quiet is to fill your mouth up, isn't it?" You playfully teased, softly laughing at your own remark. (damn you!)

He didn't laugh. Instead, he only shifted his weight and leaned back further against the pillows propped up behind him. This was embarrassing. He had already pushed the covers off himself! This left only a pair of boxers on him in the cool bedroom. The amount of time waiting on that thermometer felt like hours. He wanted it to be over! He was growing nauseous just thinking of how disgusted he'd feel when desperately jerking himself off once you left the room. What made him feel even more guilty, was the fact that he wanted you to in this state.

What odd solace he found in the high-pitched beeping thermometer! You hummed, slowly drawing the stick out from his mouth. It was wet with saliva now, dribbling down his chin when you removed it. "Ah - Ah .. " You tutted, mindlessly wiping his mouth when checking the little screen. "Look at that." You turned the thermometer around for him to see it himself. "You poor thing." You frowned, glancing down to set the thermometer back to the cluttered bedside table. (to Nagito's dismay. it wasn't pleasant to see.) "Is there anything else I can get you? Do you want something to drink? Did you want to try a bath?" You asked, glancing back to meet his face. "No, No .. You don't need to do anything for me." He looked away from you. He was utterly ashamed of how badly he wanted you to touch him.

It really had been days since Nagito had stuffed you full of his cock. (or let alone, let you fuck him.) "Are you sure?" You questioned, absentmindedly rubbing your palm against his thigh when moving closer. He opened his mouth to speak, but that unwarranted friction only choked out a pleasured noise from him. "Forgive me-" He gasped, twitching in his bottoms. "Oh .. Naughty, naughty." You pressed your palm against his thigh, pushing the fabric of his bottoms up enough to feel his bare skin. "Do you want me to-?" You lowered your voice. (leaving the rest of your sentence to the wandering imagination.)

"Accommodate me," He swallowed mucus as he pulled himself up. "Ruin me. Please?" He asked of you. Desperate for your touch. (he felt so warm - and heavy - and most of all nauseous. the stirring below his waist was killing him.) "You want me to make you feel better, Nagito?" You asked, rubbing your hand in towards his inner thigh. Oh, god. Rubbing. That's all he needed! But more! Not there!

He let out a half-pleasured, half-frustrated sound, grasping at the waistband of his boxers. Yes! His stomach was in knots mixed with debauched pins and needles. He desperately tugged down his boxers. His breaths were shallow and hitched. "Please, Please-" His thighs trembled, (excited to a pathetic extent.) resisting the urge to handle his aching on his own if you wouldn't in time. “Nagito," You said his name in an airy breath, sweet and playful, rubbing those fingers of yours between his thighs. The sight of his stiffened length before you was nothing new. Desperate for some sort of friction. A pitiful groan, his hips trembled as you inched in closer to his cock. "How pretty." You smiled delightfully, lifting your fingers inches before his twitching sex. What pretty pre-cum that had drooled and tainted his boxers seconds before. "Compliments? You're so nice -" He laughed, grasping at the sheet beside him. They say to relax when you're ill. He was not relaxed in the slightest. He was tense. So painfully wound up.

You took note of his pathetic expression. He was anxiously awaiting your next move. Sweat ran down his temples, leaving an ill look on such a blotchy face. It wouldn't be long until he was whining about how good you really were to him.

With a quick salvia-drenched suckle of your fingers, you ran your fingers down his sore cock. Pressing down with every pulse you felt. "You're so good to me .. Nnmn-" He was in awe when staring at your precious fingers. Once they began properly stroking his cock, each pump squeezed out a wheezing whimper from him. "So kind. So generous-" He hissed at the 's'. You really were generous! You squeezed him with every hard pump. You were giving him exactly what he needed. His hips trembled, squirming like he had never felt the touch of another person before. He reeked a certain musk with every buck of the hips against your wrist. Something from lacking a bath. Something that always mesmerized you.

Your saliva left every stroke to be sickly smooth and slick with twitching throbs. Which you'd feel with each movement against the slit of his cock. (as well as his trembling body.)"Nagito, Stay still-" You pressed against his hips with your free hand. Your fingers spread out, rubbing up his stomach with each desperate rock of his hips against your hand. (with every pant and beg you heard) "I can't help it! I don't deserve it. I know-" His chest rose up and down with each self-deprecating rambling of words that had lost their meaning.

Your eyes watched him steadily. Never once leaving his pretty face. Even when he'd press his aching head against the headboard and quickly squeeze his tear-tinged eyes closed. "You're amazing. So good to me! Mnmm-" He hummed out, half-lidded eyes meeting yours. It wasn't hard to be in absolute amazement when watching your fingers get him off. You stared back at him, noticing how pale he was. (more than usual.) "Nagito? Are you okay?" You paused for a second, (still feeling the throbbing beneath your fingers.) He let out a dissatisfied noise, squeezing his eyes open and shut in confusion and disappointment.) "Huh?"

"You're so funny. I-I've never felt better." He nodded, keeping his focus on you. (once more.) His voice still sounded coarse and out of breath. His face was still drained of colour. In all honesty, he was nauseated beyond belief. This was when you should've stopped. Taken a breather? He wasn't very rational on occasion. Maybe in his right mind, he would've stopped you. But everything felt so good! The tightly wound knots in his stomach felt so close to coming undone. So close to allowing himself that much-needed, (filthy.) release. It was terrible. He was terrible.

The burning in his throat and the debilitating nausea were too much! Just enough to get sick. Warm, sticky vomit spilled from his quivering mouth without proper warning.

Tainting down his chest to his stomach. How unlucky must you be to be in this situation? "Oh-! Nagito-" You completely paused. (ready to grab a towel and help him clean up!) "No-!" He took in a deep breath, uncontrollably pulsating before your fingers. "I'm begging you - " He ignored the vomit pooling against his now barren stomach. This was a revolving mess. He was even worse for wanting this so badly. "Let me have this. I need it horribly.." His breath trembled just as his hips were.

Nagito's desperate whining was excruciating to refuse. Near impossible. (plus, you loved making him feel good.) You found yourself falling victim to his humiliating state. You bit down on your lip and squeezed his cock, feeling the throbs that fell in tune with his whimpering. A sultry gasp of your name! "I'm so terrible-I .. I can't -" He leaned his head back against the pillows with a debauched huff. Sure, he had gotten sick on himself, but the sickly sweet pulsing of his cock beneath your fingers was far too tantalizing.

The pathetic movements of his hips and smooth, slick pumps against his cock were enough to squeeze hard throbs from him. "Defile you-Nmn-Violate .." He choked out degradations, fighting this dizzy feeling.

Each time he leaned back, you'd thoroughly admire his collarbones drenched with sweat. As well as the sick that had tainted his chest and stomach. (He smelt musky already.) Even if he was so gross at that moment, you'd love to put your mouth anywhere he wanted. "I can't - I can't take it -" He wheezed, (fearful he may be asthmatic and die like this?! he wouldn't mind.) desperately gasping for air as the release of filthy pleasure truly violated your fingers, making an absolute mess. Horribly.

"..Hah - Nagito .. So much .." You teased, squeezing his cock once last time before lifting your fingers from his pulsing sex. A filthy mix of salvia and cum coated your fingers when spreading them out. (thankfully, he hadn't puked on his cock.) "I hope I made you feel good." You nonchalantly pushed your fingers past your lips. It wasn't like he could properly reply to that. You switched your interest back to the so-assumed masochist before you.

His deathly tight grip on the sheets released, filling the room with heavy breaths and remaining noises of absolutely reached pleasure. "I was wondering if this was the last time you'd do this to me .." He sounded genuinely concerned. "How about when you're feeling better." You smiled, giving his wet mouth a soft press of yours. "Gross." You whispered. "Uh huh .. I'll draw a bath." You bit his lip when drawing away, tasting whatever was burning in his mouth. The only thing keeping him from mercifully apologizing was the sheer loss of words. Gross. That was the world. Or good. Sickly sweet, wasn't it?

#nagito komaeda x reader #komaeda nagito #nagito x reader #komaeda x reader #danganronpa v2 goodbye despair #super danganronpa goodbye despair #sdr2 x reader #komaeda nagito x reader #writing blog #nsft #fanfic #feed the deprived

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becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys · 1 year

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Doctor Who, but Chronologically: 36

It's such a treat to get sensible two-parters, look

And we're back! The cliffhanger is resolved by the Doctor sternly telling the gas mask zombies to go to their room because he's very cross, and they meekly do. This is actually a very clever way to get out of it, I think. It's nice when Moffat manages a genuinely clever twist.

Also, it means right before the opening credits roll, the Doctor breaks the tension by saying "I'm glad that worked, those would have been terrible last words." Eighteen years ago, in a student house in Rhoath, we shat ourselves we laughed so hard. Still a great line.

Anyway, fuck, this is SUCH a good episode. The plot is actually relatively brief (it turns out that ambulance Jack crashed here was full of medical nanogenes, and the first thing they found was a now-dead child still in a gas mask. But they'd never seen a human before, so they 'healed' him to a zombie creature. Now they're trying to heal all humans. The reason they're asking for their mam is because it's Nancy! Not his sister after all.) But, the episode contains multiple repeated creepy scenes to fill in for the lack of plot, and they're all bangers and all undercut with just the right amount of humour to be a foil. Love the Doctor replacing Jack's gun with a banana. Love the line "Rose, I'm trying to resonate concrete." Love Rose discovering that the future of the human race is to fuck its way across the stars and that Jack has probably fucked a space squid. All great

It's just a shame about all the cringeworthy sex and romance talk disguised as a dancing metaphor. That made me wince two decades ago and time has not made it better. Even editing doesn't give Moffat the ability to write anything romantic that doesn't feel like unsettling wet noodles. Sometimes, being synaesthetic is a curse.

Ultimately Nancy tells the Bluetooth zombie that she's his Mam and the nanogenes realise her DNA is the correct one. This means there's an absolutely delightful bit where Christopher Eccleston throws his whole pussy into yelling "Just this once, Rose, everybody lives!" and the day is utterly saved. It's true, that is rare. I am still haunted by Horror of Fang Rock. What an awful story. Never forget poor Vince.

This means Richard Wilson lives!

"Uh, all your patients will in fact be fully healed," the Doctor says. "Just quietly take credit and send them along."

"Doctor!" says a random woman. "My leg's grown back! When I came to hospital I only had one!"

"Well, there is a war on," says Richard Wilson, with devastating comedic delivery. "Is it possible you miscounted?"

And then Rose and the Doctor rescue Jack before his ship blows up, and then the episode ends EXACTLY ONE SECOND after Jack enters the TARDIS, yes that's right, there is NO MORE OF THE EPISODE. They most certainly did not ruin this incredible story with one of the most nauseating and awful scenes in televisual history that still gives me bone-creaking second-hand embarrassment. Nope. It ends when Jack walks in. He says "It's bigger on the inside" and we all just... move on. We're done. The end. Tidy.

Anyway!!! Only one new plot thread, I think - Jack reveals at one point that he used to be a Time Agent, but they stole two years of his memories. Exciting!!! That has also happened to the Doctor. I wonder if it's related?

“She” (an unknown person) is returning (perhaps River returned as Missy. Maybe Me? Maybe Clara???!)

There is something on Donna’s back

An entire planet, Pyrovilia, just… disappeared, somehow. (Maybe because the TARDIS is exploding??? Saturnine was also lost, and that WAS because of the TARDIS exploding. The lion man’s planet was also lost but he was a bit of a knob about it if I’m honest.)

Amy is maybe dead (she’s not)

The Doctor has been cubed (he’s out, but how?)

River is possibly blown up (unless she’s Missy. NEW INFO: she is definitely not blown up)

The TARDIS has blown up (It’s fine now. Except it’s sort of melting now because it’s corrupted, but it’s fine again)

The universe appears to have ended (the universe is back again)

The Doctor has employed(?) Nardole

(And Nardole was “reassembled???” Nardole had glass nipples and invisible hair?? WHAT THE FUCK IS HE)

There’s a vault in the TARDIS and it contains Missy but we don’t know why (sometimes she knocks for the bants)

There’s an immortal Viking girl now. Her name is Me and she’s now looking after the people the Doctor abandons

Why was Rory entirely unconcerned by the entire world suddenly going silent when that is Not Normal and should have been, at the very least, extremely disconcerting?

What did the Doctor do to Queen Lizzie One?

Why is Amy seeing a one-eyed woman in a vanishing window? (She’s with the Silents, but we don’t know why Amy saw her)

Why is Amy’s pregancy inconclusive? (Maybe because the baby had Time Lord DNA?)

Who is Sarah-Jane Smith?

How is the Doctor Bill’s teacher and why/where does he have an office?

What is going on with the Cyber War and the Cyberium???

What happened with the Other Cyber War?

What happened with the Third War that deleted the void?

Why does Rose seem particularly important?

What order do these Doctors go in? (Eccleston, Tennant, uncertain, Smith, Capaldi, Whittaker)

Which companion just… forgot the Doctor, and how?

Yaz and Vinder are about to die as Mori/Mwri/Muuri

There is a Lupari shield around Earth.

What’s a Time War?

What’s the Rift?

What’s Bad Wolf?

In which war did the Doctor become a war criminal, and how?

Who is the Master?

Why has Amy forgotten Rory?

Is Rory plastic or not?

Why is the Doctor sulking on a cloud?

How exactly does the Doctor have a cloud?

What exactly happened with Strax to, uh, tame him?

Which friend killed Strax?

Which friend brought Strax back?

Where did this lesbian lizard and human couple come from?

What happened with Clara as Souffle Girl and the Daleks?

How does Clara actually join?

Why so many Claras?

Why is Missy apparently in robo-heaven?

Why is probably!Missy pushing Clara and the Doctor together?

What is Trensilor and what happened there?

Who is Handles?

The Doctor is about to be dissolved by a beautiful geode man

The universe is being crushed by the Flux

Will the Doctor open the fobwatch?

Sontarans are invading Earth again

Who is Kate?

Who is Osgood? Another name of Clara’s again?

The fuck is the deal with the Grand Serpent

Does Martha get to go to an ice cream planet with 12-fingered massage aliens?

How did the Doctor forget Clara?

Who is Bill’s puddle girlfriend Heather?

How did Nardole die?

When does Bill get Cyberman-ed and die?

When does the Doctor shrink and enter a Dalek called Rusty?

Whittaker is falling to her death rn

Was that ring relevant?

Does anyone know the Doctor’s name?

When did Yaz talk to Dan about fancying the Doctor?

When did Dan talk to the Doctor about fancying Yaz?

What’s happening with the bees?

What happened with Donna’s ex and a giant spider?

What war wiped out the Daleks, and is it one of the ones already mentioned?

What did the Doctor mean when he said “The (Daleks) always live, while I lose everything?”

If Dalek Caan is the last Dalek left why are there more now?

How did the rest of the Time Lords die?

How and why did Amy melt?

What’s the question that will make silence fall?

Why do the Silents… want silence to fall?

How and why are Silents at war with the Doctor when he… hasn’t even heard of them?

How does Hitler get out of the cupboard?

What’s the significance of fish fingers and custard?

Why does the Doctor feel guilt about Rose, Martha and Donna?

What happened with the space whale?

When does Rory defend Amy for 2000 years?

How does the Doctor survive River

How does he erase himself from history

Did Captain Jack lose his memories to the same people as the Doctor? What did he lose?

#doctor whom #and yet we are continuing

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invisibleicewands · 11 months

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A mum shouldn’t have to go to her child’s funeral’: Sharon Horgan and Michael Sheen on making moving TV

f Best Interests – a drama about a mother who takes the NHS to court after doctors decide to allow her teenage daughter to die – feels too harrowing to countenance, you’re not alone: even the cast can’t bring themselves to watch it. “It was hard enough doing it on the day,” says Sharon Horgan of playing Nicci, the mother in question. Michael Sheen, who co-stars as her husband Andrew – a man devastated by his daughter’s illness but unwilling to back his wife’s appeal – is also avoiding it. “I’m more nervous than usual,” he admits. “I know it’s going to be a difficult watch.”

That’s an understatement. Best Interests begins with Nicci and Andrew on a train, giddily happy, slightly frisky and, as we soon realise, uncharacteristically carefree. Over the next four hours, we see their relationship falter under the pressure of caring for their younger daughter Marnie (Niamh Moriarty) who has muscular dystrophy, as consultants tell them her condition has progressed beyond all medical intervention – something that leads Nicci to mount a headline-grabbing, life-upending legal challenge. It’s little wonder Horgan had doubts about taking the role in the first place. “I was really nervous about how much this was going to fuck me up,” she says. It ended up being as crushing as she feared. “We spent a lot of time in terrible pain. You have to go to some really awful places to get yourself into that mindset and stay there. Sometimes you come home and go: ‘What kind of a weird job is this?’”

And yet – and this is the caveat that makes the show not simply a gruelling experience, but a life-affirming and thoroughly absorbing one – Best Interests is also very funny. There is droll banter about crisps in waiting rooms, there are silly jokes about knickers and, after the unthinkable finally happens, there is daft familial teasing. “People will be put through the wringer,” says Horgan. “But we want this to feel like a real family, and in real families – even when they are in the worst possible situation – people laugh.” That said, desolation is never far away: at one point, Andrew is reading The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole at Marnie’s bedside when an inadvertently pertinent passage prompts a flood of tears: at moments such as these, the show dances between comedy and tragedy in a remarkable way. Thankfully, it is not quite the slapstick affair it could have been. “I remember doing a very stupid dance at one point, I don’t know if that’s still in?” Sheen asks tentatively. I tell him it’s not ringing any bells. “That probably means it’s not there, so that’s good!”

Instead we have Sheen’s Andrew as a slouchy, goofy beta male, who enjoys 90s indie and the odd spliff, and is an expert teller of comfortingly lame dad jokes (such is the casual majesty of Sheen’s performance, he has already won the best actor award at French TV festival Series Mania). Horgan is equally brilliant as Nicci, a weary but awe-inspiringly on-it woman suffused with the actor’s trademark wincingly honest wit. While Sheen is a garlanded dramatic actor who was well established in theatre before becoming film-star famous in the 00s for his exceptional impersonations (Tony Blair, David Frost, Brian Clough, Kenneth Williams), Horgan is still best known for her pioneering TV comedy. From gritty sitcom Pulling to dramedy Catastrophe and recent hit Bad Sisters, she is now a giant of the genre; as a serious actor, however, her career is only just taking off. “If you’re known for comedy, people don’t generally throw a lot of dramas at you,” she says.

In 2021, she was a revelation in pandemic drama Together, written by her Pulling co-creator Dennis Kelly, yet Horgan feels Nicci is her “most dramatically led role” – another reason she’s not keen to watch it back. “I just don’t want to get all hypercritical on myself. I did it – there’s nothing I can do about it now!” Horgan says she has always wanted to do comedy and drama simultaneously, and is happy the genre binaries are melting away. “Back in the day I used to do a lot more sitcom-style shows, and now it blends a lot: a lot of dramas are really funny and a lot of comedies … aren’t,” she says, dissolving into laughter at her damning critique of the current comedy landscape. “What I mean is some of my favourite things, like The Bear, there’s not many laughs in it.”

I speak to Horgan and Sheen separately over Zoom – the former perched on her bed, the latter bearded and avuncular in a tartan shirt, sitting in his office in Margam Park near Port Talbot, where he’s about to direct BBC drama The Way. (So idyllic are his surroundings that he pauses to show me two gambolling baby deer from his window.) They may be miles apart, but the pair are very much on the same page when it comes to Best Interests. Instead of meticulously researching the kind of media circus court cases that inspired the drama (the 2017 case of Charlie Gard being perhaps the most famous example), they opted to come to the action unschooled, as they imagine Nicci and Andrew would have been. And while both were left awed by the parents with disabled children they met – “I just don’t know how I would have the strength in that situation,” says Horgan – they ended up drawing primarily on their own personal experiences.

Sheen found himself recalling his own family history while thinking about the cosmic horror of losing a child. “My grandmother’s son – my uncle – died of cancer while she was still alive. I always remember her saying a mother should not have to go to her child’s funeral. That just shouldn’t happen.” He was also reckoning with anxieties of his own. During the filming of the show, Sheen’s partner Anna Lundberg was pregnant with their second child and the due date was fast approaching. Then the pregnancy turned out to be “not completely straightforward”, Sheen says. “There were some fears about our unborn baby, and if there are any kinds of complications or worries that really weighs on you.” The stress filtered into his performance, especially when it came to the heartbreaking flashback scenes in which a six-month-old Marnie’s bewildered parents receive her diagnosis.

For Horgan, Nicci’s story was incredibly close to home. “My kid had meningitis when she was young,” she says (Horgan has two teenage daughters with her ex-husband, businessman Jeremy Rainbird). “While we thought we might lose her – as I was watching them trying to find a vein and get some antibiotics into her – I remember thinking: ‘I don’t care what happens – like, take off her limbs, whatever you need to do – just keep her alive.’”

In Best Interests, the story of Nicci, Andrew and Marnie (plus elder daughter Katie, played with mild insolence by Conversations With Friends’ Alison Oliver) doesn’t exist in a vacuum. In recent years, writer Jack Thorne – one of the most respected figures in British TV – has dedicated himself to making programmes about people with disabilities, partly because of his own struggles: he suffered from a debilitating long-term illness in his 20s, and was recently diagnosed with autism. In 2021 he made Help, which starred Jodie Comer as a carer looking after a man with early-onset Alzheimer’s (Stephen Graham) in the pandemic, and last year he created Then Barbara Met Alan, a one-off drama about the founders of the Disabled People’s Direct Action Network, a protest group fighting for disabled people’s rights.

According to Sheen and Horgan, Thorne’s advocacy for disabled people permeated the entire shoot. The cast was populated by actors with disabilities: Moriarty, who has a form of cerebral palsy called spastic diplegia, is joined by Lenny Rush, the Bafta-winning breakout star of Am I Being Unreasonable? who has dwarfism, and Mat Fraser, an actor and activist with thalidomide-induced phocomelia. Behind the scenes, things were just as inclusive. “Our set photographer was hearing-impaired, the person shadowing our director was a wheelchair user – there was an enormous amount of diversity,” says Horgan. “It just felt like this is the world we live in and unfortunately TV and film doesn’t usually represent that.” There was an attitude of presumed equality. Sheen remembers coming to do a scene and “in the script there was no mention of a physical disability and then the actor who did it had a physical disability and it was not a thing. That was so refreshing.”

The show wears its politics lightly, though. Even the Christian pressure group Nicci turns to in desperation is portrayed with relative ambivalence – after all, says Sheen, “you don’t want to wink at the audience about how you feel about the characters”. Thorne is too clever a writer for obvious didacticism, and while you might come away feeling conflicted – or even disgusted – by the legal process that has lawyers brutally picking holes in the parents and consultants in court, it’s hard to envisage what could replace it.

What you will be invariably left with, however, is a sense of the existential struggle those with disabled children face in a society unwilling to accommodate them. Sheen remembers Thorne talking about the attitude towards disabled people in the pandemic: “that somehow people with disabilities were slightly more dispensable and anyone dying through Covid who had disabilities, it wasn’t as big a deal as people who didn’t have them.” For Horgan, playing Nicci alerted her to a system that “sees disabled life as less important. Everything she gets for Marnie is a struggle, whether it’s equipment or a wheelchair or education. Her life is battling.”

It’s a sad, outrageous truth, which this excellent drama unflinchingly captures. Yet the show is also keen to emphasise that this is just one element of life with a disabled child. Despite its tragic ending, the real beauty – and, for me, lasting impression – of Best Interests is the way it evokes the overwhelming joy that comes with parenting any child, whatever the difficulties. The worst of times, yes – but also the best.

#Michael Sheen #Best Interests #Movie

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xeviseu · 1 year

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John Benedict B. Bandal When I was 14 years old, I really loved the game Counter Strike: Global Offensive, and one of my favorite games back then. I used to play it nonstop whenever there were no classes. There were occasions that I’d rather play it instead of making homework. It goes without saying that I would play the game with my buddies because playing it alone would be extremely boring. My pals and I both spent a large sum of money on the game to purchase various virtual items or gun skins. I’m going to be completely honest, despite playing the game frequently, I wasn't that good at it. My gameplay was terrible, and even if I tried my hardest to improve, my buddies would still talk trash about it. I was playing on a very outdated machine that can hardly run the game at 60 frames per second, which is one of the main reasons why I can't keep up with my buddies. So, I asked myself how I could possibly be better than them when my PC is so awful. I was watching videos on YouTube when I came across an advertisement for third-party software or so-called cheats for the game I play, CS:GO. I looked into it since I was hooked on it. I did some research to see if the cheat could be bannable or caught by the game's anti-cheat system, and they indicated it couldn't. I tried using the cheat since I was so desperate. Because I was testing the hack that I had just loaded on my computer, I played the game alone. In the first few games, I was doing so well that I thought I was unbeatable, was on a winning streak, and I quickly rose in the rankings. I even outranked my friends without them noticing it because I was playing by myself. A friend of mine invited me to play with them a few days later. So, I accepted the invitation right away. I joined the lobby, and all of them were extremely shocked upon seeing my rank. They all questioned me how I managed to rank up so quickly because I outranked each and every one of them. I obviously didn't tell them that I was using cheats; instead, I claimed that I was simply grinding hard and eventually got much better than everyone else. They were all amazed and asked if I could carry them, which of course I could. I gradually gained their respect to the point that I was regarded as the top player in their eyes. So, continuing to cheat in the game, I proceeded to spend a lot of money on the game. As far as I can remember, I spent a total of 10,000 pesos on the game. Few weeks have passed, after logging onto my account, I noticed a message informing me that I had been permanently banned from playing Counter Strike: Global Offensive, the game I enjoyed playing the most. I was completely taken aback and had no idea what to do. And because they noticed on my profile that I had been banned from the game, my buddies already knew that I was cheating, and they were all quite disappointed in me. They promised not to play with me ever again. At the time, I was devastated since I had lost several of my best friends and spent every penny I had on my favorite hobby. I vowed to never cheat again if I ever got another chance to play the game because I really regret doing so. I thus requested that my parents buy me an extremely good gaming machine for my birthday, and they did so. I was ecstatic to be able to play the game once more without experiencing lag this time. I gave myself a few months to improve and redeem myself for my previous actions. After a few months, I can say that I have made significant progress—and this time, without the help of any third-party program. And when I asked my former pals if they would let me play with them once more, they agreed. We then played a few games, and they said that I had improved— even better than when I had used cheating. And that's how I got through the lowest point of my life.

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coccinelle-et-chaton · 3 years

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hi i come bearing humanitarian relief from optygami

so like, yikes huh?

I didn't expect all the angst and that last scene absolutely DESTROYED me in the worst possible way. Anywhoo, I was so unwell that I dreamt a follow-up. This is a new level of brainrot. So, without further ado welcoome to another edition of

bullet point fics that i'll probably never write but I need to get out of my system: post-Optygami edition

After Optygami, Chat pretends he's ok but he's actually quite sad that Ladybug didn't need him to defeat the Akuma. Even more so, that instead of going for him, she went for Rena and Carapace.

lol Milk Bar scene 2.0.

He tries to hide it, but unlike other things that make him sad like oh idk, his entire family life, this is new. And he can't hide it because Ladybug was the one person that never failed to make him feel needed and wanted.

So, he's at school and he's looking sad and Marinette notices. She kicks into Supporting Friend Mode the way she's done with Zoé, Juleka etc. and asks him what's wrong. Adrien at first doesn't want to say, but Marinette gives her one of her Motivational Speeches™️ and convinces him.

Adrien says that it's hard to explain, but he feels like someone really loves is pushing him to the side and he feels like he is not needed anywhere.

Marinette will very much Not Have That

So she starts telling him all the good things she sees in him and how everyone, especially her, is lucky to have him around. And girl ain't even blushing or stuttering.

"Adrien you're always so kind and compassionate to everyone, you always make time for us even though your Father is so strict with you. You're always willing to give everyone the benefit of doubt, even when they don't deserve it. You're a great friend"

Adrien high key is tearing up btw

And my boy is so starved for affection that he's just. He falls for her immediately??? He never realized Marinette saw him like that??

He feels so acknowledged???????

also Nino sees and he reassures him as well.

"Whoever this friend is can go take a hike if they don't value you, dude. smh I'll throw hands for you."

appreciate the i r o n y

THEN...

Alya figures out Adrien is Chat Noir and she has that oh no moment. Without telling Mari why, she is ADAMANT that she tells Chat immediately about everything that has been going on with the guardianship.

"Trust me Marinette. Just trust me. You NEED to tell Chat about these things."

Marinette confesses she had not told him because she knows he's going to be very angry at her that she relied on someone else in her hour of need and she's scared she might lose him because lesser things have made him doubt himself to the point of returning the ring.

"Alya you don't understand," she says crying. "I know him. I know this is is going to hurt him so much."

Alya, out of curiosity, asks why she came to her and not Chat when things got too heavy and Marinette explains the incident in Chat Blanc and how absolutely scared to the bone she is that it might happen again. Not because she wouldn't be able to fix it, but because she couldn't bear seeing Chat being hurt like that again.

Eventually Marinette gathers the courage to tell Chat Noir and of course he's sad, heartbroken, angry and no matter how much Ladybug tries to apologize or reassure him that she trusts him, he simply can't.

Chat says he understands that she needed to lean on someone and it's her right to choose who that is.

"Don't worry m'lady, I understand. But... I need some time off. After all, something tells me you'll make do even if i'm not there."

BIG OUCH 😃

Marinette is devastated and recognizes her mistake and understands she is in no position to ask Chat to be there but that doesn't help the fact she's absolutely heartbroken.

As a civilian, Adrien notices Marinette is sad and talks to her. Mari cries bc she says she made a terrible mistake and she managed to really hurt one of the friends she loves the most and is scared she lost them for good.

Adrien consoles her and tells her she did the right thing by coming clean to them, and that she should have faith in her friend bc "friends fight sometimes Mari, it's normal, right? They will come around. You were honest with them, and that's what matters. They'll appreciate it eventually."

"Besides, e-even if they don't... I-i'll always be here for you"

"And if they don't, I'll personally go and punch your friend in the face"

aaaahhhh adrinette fluff.

And so, while ladynoir is crumbling to pieces, adrinette is like, VERY close to becoming canon but bc of what happened in ladynoir they refrain from showing their romantic feelings but are like, "No way I'm making the same mistakes again" so they become each other's closest confident (sans the whole Miraculous thing of course)

Adrien starts telling Mari about "this friend" and the problems in his family. Marinette start tellings him about "these responsibilities" and "this friend I have" and they unintentionally coach the other through how to proceed to heal the ladynoir partnership.

Simultaneously, Adrien's help lets Marinette understand how very much she loves Chat and him taking the break from Ladybug's company and replacing it with Marinette, lets him know how head over heels he had been for her all this time = tada! reverse love square.

They become super, super close friends. Like deadass ppl think they're dating (but what else is new smh)

"Ha ha, no. We're Just Very Good Friends™️" *they say as they're literally holding hands or snuggling on a bench*

Eventually Chat Noir comes out of his little break and Ladybug and him meet up to talk and it's like, an ugly crying sobfest ahaha :)

LB apologizes again and begs him to forgive her, she promises she'll do better and she'll show him how much she need him and--

"M'lady, stop. I already forgave you. It's all water under the bridge so--

"No! No it's not, because I can't believe I made you think you're dispensible. Chat Noir you're my partner and you'll always be my partner and I treated you like you weren't but I just... I couldn't tell you, Chaton. I couldn't--"

"But why? What couldn't you tell me, m'lady?"

LB breaks down and explains the Chat Blanc incident to him

"I was so scared. I was so afraid for you and so terrified that I wouldn't be able to bring you back. I'd never be able to forgive myself if one day I cannot bring you back, Chat. I want to know who you are but if knowing puts you at risk, then I won't do it. I love you more than I want to know your identity."

ajgkfahgfak gajfkk UGLY SOBBING.

"Then... that means we cannot be together... ever?" Chat asks and his voice is cracking because he's doing all humanly possible not to cry too.

"Not until Hawkmoth is defeated. I promise minou, as soon as we defeat him, we can be together. In the meantime, we have to keep the secret."

Chat Noir gently wipes off the tears from Ladybug and steps closer to her and goes "Then, m'lady, if you'll allow it, I'd like us to keep one more secret."

He leans down slowly, to give LB a chance to say no if she doesn't want it to happen, but she doesn't stop him. They kiss.

"This one stays between us," Chat mutters and then smirks at her. "See you in the next Akuma, m'lady."

The end.

#this came to me in a dream #my soul will not know rest until the season is over and i've come to terms with the fact this is my life now. this is how i live my days.#ml fanfic #ml flash fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #miraculous ladybug #ml spoilers #hurt comfort #ladynoir #adrinette #lovesquare #love square #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladybug #chat noir

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jschlattsbabydoll · 3 years

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Ocean Away Part 2 (Chishiya Shuntaro x Reader)

A/N: Hi! How are you?

Sorry for the delays for part 2. But here you are 😊

I’m sorry if the story felt rushed, but I would be editing the story once it has been finished for a more detailed version of the story.

Thank you so much for the support for part 1. The notes on this one is amazing currently at 119 notes…. Thank you so much! Hopefully part 2 won’t disappoint.

And I want to tag @eggbutnotyolk and @kaiorik , Thank you for commenting and the support! <3

I won’t take so much of the space here.

Please enjoy part 2! :)

-----+------

“Far away, an ocean away. Where I won’t let you hurt me again.” – Loreen, Ocean Away.

------+-------

“Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t.”, You lied.

Around 12 noon, you awoke from your bed. You around your room to see a note on the bedside cabinet,

“I will be meeting up with Kuina for just a bit.” – Chishiya.

Then suddenly memories of last night came rushing back on your mind…

You’ll be leaving Chishiya.

Suddenly tears fell down your body, with the memories of last night, your talk with your uncles and after that with him… It was so fucked up on how much you doubt your plan right now. Is this how he can easily manipulate you into thinking things?

Every night that you two have been together, his body is so warm that you love being with him, but the feelings he portrays, they lack emotions, it was so cold that she would give so much time and space. She would always wait for him to come to her instead.

The game that he plays is dangerous. He is willing to give up everything, even her.

*Flashback*

“Chishiya! Help me! I’m drowning!” you looked at the man you loved the most, he looked back with the coldest eyes that you have ever seen, then he took off.

You screamed loudly for his name, but he didn’t come back.

“Y/N!!!” you heard someone scream your name, hoping that it was Chishiya that he might just went and took some back up.

As you slowly went down, you felt someone pull you from the water, as you were place on land, you coughed hard and tears started to form from your eyes, it suddenly hurt to breathe in and out, but you needed to breathe.

You quickly look at the person who saved you. It was Arisu.

“Arisu…” You said as you slowly started to cry, you couldn’t even form any sentence right now with the outburst of feelings that you have inside, “I.. I thought… I… No…Chishiya… Why?” you tried to speak, as you looked into Arisu’s eyes for answers. You suddenly grabbed Arisu’s sleeves for support. You saw in his eyes that he was worried and pained with the panicked and crying form that you are in.

“Why?! Arisu… Arisu….? Chishiya… left me….” You continue to break down, you let go of Arisu’s sleeve and you placed both hands on your face.

Arisu suddenly hugged you, “I’m sorry… This is all I could offer you.”

The sadness, dread, disappointment, and the pain are now mixing all in together. Now all you could think of is wishing that you died than suffering under Chishiya’s side.

“why?” you said through tears with the only answer is pure silence.

“HATTER! HATTER! HATTER!” Everyone screamed and cheered their leader, who was leaving for a game with Aguni and you. Your uncle waved from the back seat and smiled at everybody for their immense support,

While your Uncle Aguni drove the car, you sat on the passenger seat. While the car is slowly leaving the Beach’s premises. You through the crowd and saw him.

He looked at you eye to eye, but you removed you eyes from his gaze. You didn’t want to leave him, but staying with him hurt a lot more.

As your uncle Aguni drove off, you uncle Hatter looked at you, “don’t be sad, my child. I know that the beach has everything you need and can ever ask for this world. But, remember, if you need some space from the people within my walls, you can always go a different location.”

You nodded your head, “Thank you Uncle Hatter and Uncle Aguni.”

“Just a bit of wait. We’ll be out of this country and we can have our lives back.” Aguni said as he took a turn to the arena, a school building.

“After this game, we will be driving you off to your hiding spot. It would be from the other side of Tokyo near Shibuya… We will keep track of you now and then. You will be joining games from the other side, just let us know what is going on, what games you played and what card you have received.” Hatter has explained, “And just to completely hide your identity from other players, you might need to change your hair color or maybe let you wear a mask.”

“Anyways, the place that we have chosen is near a mall, but we would still be providing for you as promised once we visit you again.” Aguni added,

“Noted.” You answered, as you got out of the car. You opened the car door for you uncle and helped him out, “Uncle Hatter, having a hard time getting out of the car?”

“I’m almost at my 30’s dear. I’m getting old.” He joked, “Wish I could go back to the simpler days.”

You smiled, “30 is not old uncle. Besides, you are still so full of life.”

As your Uncle Aguni got out of the car, “By the way… I followed your plan.” He said while looking at Hatter, “As dangerous as it sounds, but I told Niragi about the plan.”

Niragi wasn’t a good person. You’ve had some issues with Niragi and his awful behavior. Your uncle Aguni has explained and made it very clear with Niragi that you cannot be touched by him in anyway. You two had a very civil talk once after a game where you saved him from being mauled by a tiger, because he lost bullets from his riffle.

He became honest with his feelings that he didn’t thought that someone would save him.

Later he opened up being bullied in class, being thrown by rocks and there is a point system in it. You would always remember his glasses were 50 points and his crotch area is 100 points. He didn’t have any friends at all and even if people would see him being beaten up, no one came to his aid.

“I know that you don’t see me as your friend. But hiding from a sadistic silhouette won’t give you happiness. Yes, people are afraid of you, but that doesn’t ease the pain. I know, what they have done in the real world is wrong and un humane. But in the end of the day, you’re just human. We all have scars. And if you keep that inside, you’ll go insane… Actually, you are already. But, don’t go down further, Niragi. If you want someone to let out your outburst inside, I’m here.”

“Why do you…. Why are you so nice?” he asked,

“I don’t know. But it’s all I can give right now. You deserve it, even if you think you don’t.”

You kept his secrets, he’s still a douchebag with others after your encounter with him, but he became nice to you ever since.

Chishiya didn’t like the closeness between you and Niragi. Sometimes, he would interrupt a conversation between you and Niragi.

“Y/n… “ Chishiya said, intervening the conversation you have with Niragi, “Let’s go.” Extending his hands to hold your hand,

“Interrupting again? You make me angry, Chishiya. “, Niragi said with full annoyance, “Jealous, because your girlfriend is so fond of me?”

“hm….” Chishiya smirked, “I trust her that she won’t fall for someone who’s dumb witted as you.”

Things escalated very quickly, with Niragi pointing his riffle towards Chishiya’s head and Chishiya with his knife on Niragi’s neck,

“I’ll blow your head up, you fucker!” Niragi angrily said,

“Not if I slit your fucking throat.”

“STOP! STOP WHAT YOU ARE DOING!” You screamed, “Stop acting so fucking childish!”

They came to their senses and placed down their weapons, Niragi huffed with annoyance, he would have killed Chishiya if you didn’t stop him.

“I’ll go with Chishiya.” You looked towards Niragi, “I’m sorry Niragi. But I’ll talk again with you, okay? “

“Okay.” Niragi said in defeat. You touched his cheeks as a form of goodbye and then you left with Chishiya.

“Niragi knows about the plan?” you asked, looking through your uncle Hatter’s eyes,

“Yes. He’s like a back up that we have. He seems so fond of you, If ever that we can’t go towards your location due to meetings or maybe emergencies, we can secretly asked Niragi’s help.”

“Oh, at least… I have someone to talk to…” you said within you mind,

You started to walk with uncle to face the game that you will be all joining.

Hopefully, no one dies during this game.

~Time Skip~

You three finished the game and was granted 6 days of visa. You all drove off near Shibuya, and they have sent you to your new location. It was a hotel, it was two blocks away from a mall, which can give you supplies for your stay here.

You Uncle Aguni has handed you a walkie talkie, and tested it with his, Hatter and one of the Walkie for Niragi.

“You sure, you’ll be okay without us, dear?” Hatter asked once more,

You smiled, “Yes… I will be. I can talk to you any time with these walkie talkies. And If ever I’ll just give you a beep.” Then you hugged your uncle Hatter and then your Uncle Aguni.

“I know that you’re just keeping quiet, but you’ll miss me too, Uncle Aguni.” You teased, he smirked,

“Don’t get too cocky…” He said, but then he patted you gently on the head, “I would miss you…Just be careful here kid.”

“I will.” You smiled, after a few minutes, they were gone… Leaving you all alone.

Tears started to fall from your eyes, “I’m sorry, Chishiya…”

Everyone cheered on as Hatter and Aguni arrived, they chanted their names.

They went to the balcony and then Hatter raised his hands to stop the noise from the crowd below him.

He removed his sunglasses and he acted devastated…with tears on his eyes, he opened his mouth to speak.

“Thank you… Thank you for being happy that Aguni and I have come safe and sound from the war that we have joined tonight…” he said then stopped, he was now hearing whispers asking on where you are.

“You might have noticed that when we left, we have brought our precious y/n… We have a terrible news to tell… A death of an executive has happened… the death of our sweet child, y/n…”

Everybody went silent shocked to hear that one of the best players have died.

“She sacrificed her life for us… But…” Hatter wiped his fake tears on his face, “We will not let her death go in vain… We promised that we would complete the cards and in the end; we will survive this country and get out of this soon on her behalf. We need you all to fulfill this promise for her not just for her but also for yourselves…”

Unknown to everybody, a person on the floor above the balcony has been watching the whole scene, Chishiya, who has heard the news, ran towards your room. Thinking that this might me a sick joke that Hatter has brought to everybody.

But he was greeted by an empty room.

He tried to search everywhere, but you were gone.

He stopped looking for you and he went in front of your room door again.

He has mixed feeling about everything, he placed his hand to his chest. He felt a different kind of loneliness inside his chest.

“What would you do If I suddenly got lost or disappeared?” He remembers your question last night.

“This might be some sick joke…” he whispered to himself, “It’s impossible for you to die… not now.” As he was about to leave your door step, he saw Aguni walking towards him,

“Interesting.” He heard Aguni said while walking towards him, “what are you doing here?”

“I was just passing by.” Chishiya kept a straight face, “why did you let her die?”

Aguni smirked, “Caring now, Cheshire? It doesn’t suit you at all.”

“Hm.” Chishiya didn’t speak, but instead let Aguni walk by past him.

When Aguni was already 1 feet away from Chishiya, “Don’t fake it too much… Isn’t this what you wanted? To see her dead? That’s why you left her in one of the games?”

Chishiya turned around to answer his question, but Aguni was gone.

“Don’t leave me…”

“Why?” Chishiya asked to nobody as he remembers you..

[TBC]

#chishiya #chishiya imagine #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya x reader #chishiya imagines #niragi #niragi imagines #alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #aib #aib imagines #aibsource #aib x reader #hikari kuina #kuina alice in borderland #nijiro murakami

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massivedrickhead · 3 years

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Bechloe Week 2021 - Day 5

July 30th: “You don’t know who I am, do you?”

Read on AO3

This is heavy heavy angst. It’s pretty sad (imo) and also kinda long. So, you know, read at your own risk.

With a throbbing in her hip, and a tight pain across her chest, Beca eased herself out of the cab she’d taken, and looked up at the entrance to Barden Nursing Home.

Although she visited several times a week, it seemed like they added more stairs each time she came.

“Can I give you a hand ma’am?”

“Well that depends, Raheem,” Beca said. Her voice wasn’t as strong as it had once been, but anyone who knew her could still detect the bite of sarcasm that filled almost every sentence. “Are you going to call me ma’am again, or are you going to call me Beca?”

Raheem smiled at her from his driver side window.

“Come on Mrs Mitchell, I can’t call you that. What would my grandmother say if she knew I was disrespecting my elders?”

Beca laughed and shook her head. “If you insist.” She held out an arm for him to take, and he left his cab immediately.

Truthfully, she didn’t think she’d make it up on her own anymore.

The doctor had given her a year, give or take, but she knew her own body.

This would be her last visit to Barden Nursing Home.

“Do you want me to wait with the cab?” Raheem asked when they reached the entryway.

“No, no,” Beca said. “The girls are meeting me here, they can drive me home.”

“I’ll see you next week then?”

Probably not. “I’ll give you a call.”

Raheem was Beca’s favourite driver and he happened to be the owner of the cab company, so he always made sure he was the one to drive Beca to her destination.

His mother had been a fan of hers, he’d told her during one of their first journeys, which made her feel older than she was. Or older than she thought she was. It still surprised her when she looked in the mirror and saw an old lady looking back at her.

She didn’t really recognise herself anymore.

Now that her hair was grey, her back slightly hunched, her joints sore and swollen.

They had taken her drivers licence a few years back due to her deteriorating eyesight, and her hearing wasn’t what it was.

And now her lungs were shot. Her liver. Her heart.

Her body was failing her, worsening by the day.

She was in almost constant pain, but she still had her mind. Her mind remained as sharp as it ever was.

For that, she was grateful.

Most of the time, anyway.

Leaning on a cane, with a bunch of flowers in her other hand, she made her way through the reception area.

“Morning Beca,” one of the nurses greeted her warmly. “She’s in her room today, didn’t feel like being social.”

“Thanks hun,” Beca replied. “How is she?”

“One of her better days.”

Good, Beca thought. That’s good.

If today was going to be her last visit, she wanted it to be a good one.

She knocked on door 216, and waited for a response.

“Come in,” came a voice that was both achingly familiar yet totally alien.

“Hi,” Beca said, smiling warmly as she entered the room.

Chloe was sitting in a chair by the window, a blanket over her knees.

Her once red hair was now silver, tied in a neat ponytail. She was still looking outside, but Beca knew her bright blue eyes were now milky and flat. Clouded.

Chloe turned to face her visitor.

“Can I help you?”

Beca felt something hard lodge itself in her chest.

She would never get used to this feeling. She never wanted to get used to this feeling.

She waited for a sign of recognition. A smile or a twinkle, but there was nothing.

Chloe simply looked at her with a patient curiosity.

Well, Beca thought. That’s that, then.

“I was just wondering if you would like some company? I’m new here and I don’t really know anyone.” She placed the flowers in an empty vase of water that she knew the nurses had left there for her, like they did every time she visited.

“Yes, okay. That would be fine,” Chloe said. “I’m Chloe Beale.” She held out her hand for Beca to shake.

Beca shook it, trying not to let the stab of pain show on her face at the sound of Chloe using her maiden name.

“Beca Mitchell,” Beca said, fighting the urge to cover Chloe’s hands with both of her own.

Even after all these years, Beca still wanted nothing more than to pull Chloe into her arms and kiss her.

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d really kissed. The last time they’d lain in bed together while Chloe ran her fingers through Beca’s hair. The last time Chloe had been Chloe.

Chloe’s diagnosis and the progression of her illness had been sudden and devastating and brutally quick.

It was so cruel, Beca thought almost every minute of every day, that she still had Chloe so close yet she couldn’t have been further from her.

“I’m afraid you can’t stay too long,” Chloe said. “My daughters are coming to visit later.”

She remembers the girls, Beca thought. That’s good.

Some days Chloe had no recollection of their daughters. Some days, Chloe had no recollection of any of them.

But once in a while, God, it was so rare now, Chloe would remember Beca and who they’d been together.

“Is that so?” Beca asked. “How old are your daughters?”

“Oh, I don’t know, middle-aged-ish. One’s older than the other,” Chloe said, waving a dismissive hand. “Of an age where they think they’re old but they don’t know they’re actually still very young.”

“Hmm, they must be the same age as my kids. What are their names?”

“Well there’s Blake and, um… shoot. I had it. Begins with a B…”

No it doesn’t.

“No it doesn’t,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “Hayley.”

Riley.

“Riley!”

Beca smiled. If only I could get you to remember me so easily.

“Do you have grandkids?” Beca asked.

“No,” Chloe said with a sigh.

Yes you do. You have four, and they’re beautiful.

“Do you?”

“Yes,” Beca said. “A little too much energy for me to handle these days.”

Chloe seemed to study Beca for a fraction longer.

“You know, you look a lot like my wife. Older, of course, but there’s something about the nose and the smile…”

Beca laughed because if she didn’t she would cry. “Is that right? Well to be honest I wasn’t going to say anything, but you look a lot like my wife.”

“How weird,” Chloe said.

“She was beautiful, just like you,” Beca said, fiddling with the wedding band she still wore.

“Is she still with us?”

Beca looked into Chloe’s eyes, searching for some semblance of the Chloe Beale she had fallen in love with. Searching for a glimmer of recognition. A spark. Anything.

“No,” Beca said. “We lost her a few years ago.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Chloe said, placing her hand on Beca’s as if that’s where it was meant to be. “How awful for you. You must miss her terribly.”

Beca let out a small laugh and tears filled her eyes.

It was unbearable to mourn someone who was sitting two feet in front of you.

“More than anything. We had,” Beca swallowed hard but her voice still broke when she spoke again, “the best life together. She was my best friend… my everything.”

Chloe squeezed her hand. “How lucky you are to have felt love like that. To have loved so strongly that even after all these years you’re still…” Chloe trailed off and looked out of the window again.

“Did… is your wife still with us?” Beca asked, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

“My… sorry, what did you say?”

“Is your wife still alive?”

“Oh, I don’t have a wife dear,” Chloe said, smiling. “This ginger is single and ready to mingle as my grandkids would say.”

Again, that knife in her heart.

Her grandkids were back, replacing her wife, and with them a spark of the old Chloe.

“Maybe you’ll meet someone here,” Beca said, the sadness taking hold of her now. Settling into her bones in the same way that the damp made her hip throb. “It’s never too late.”

“God, you’re crying, are you okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Beca said, smiling. “Just thinking about my Chloe has made me go all… well… foolish is probably the best word.”

“Your… Chloe?”

“My wife,” Beca said. “Her name was Chloe.” She swallowed as she looked at the uncomprehending face before her. “She was beautiful. So beautiful. Red hair and bright blue eyes and she was kind, and good, and safe. She was my best my soulmate. And she had a voice like an angel. I’d give…” Beca swallowed again, “I’d give anything to hear her sing again. To hear my Chloe sing again.”

“Beca…”

“Do you know what she said to me the first time we kissed? She promised I would never lose her. We were in a tiny apartment in Brooklyn and she promised I wouldn’t lose her. But that’s the kind of promise only a kid could make. They have no idea, how could they?”

“Beca.”

Chloe’s hand gripped Beca’s and squeezed it. Tight.

“My… Beca?”

And there she was. Back like she’d never gone away.

“Chloe? You… you remember me?”

“Of course I remember you,” Chloe said. Then her eyebrows furrowed, and she looked around her room. “This isn’t our house.”

“No.”

Chloe swallowed and nodded. “I’m… I’m not well, am I?”

Beca sniffed and shook her head.

“Alzheimer’s?”

“Ah ha,” Beca said, fighting to keep her voice steady.

“Like my mom… How long?”

“T-two years,” Beca said. “I tried to take care of you but then I fell and broke my hip and I just… I couldn’t manage on my own anymore. The girls insisted. You’ve been here for about a year. You… you seem happy.”

Beca knew this lucidity wouldn’t last.

Chloe would be gone again, and probably soon.

This was her last chance.

“I love you, Chloe Mitchell, do you hear me? My heart belongs completely to you. And one day… one day soon, I’m not gonna be able to come and visit you anymore. And there may be days where you remember me, but you won’t remember I’m gone, and you’re gonna feel hurt and betrayed. You’re going to think I abandoned you,” Beca squeezed Chloe’s hand again, “but I promise you, if it was up to me, I would never leave your side.”

“So stay,” Chloe said, her voice breaking. “Stay with me.”

Beca gave her a sad smile. “In a few hours, you won’t remember me, baby.”

“How could I ever forget you?”

“Mom?” A voice spoke up from the doorway, and Beca turned to see Blake and Riley standing there. “Is everything-”

“Girls!” Chloe said, brightly. “Come in and meet my new friend Beca.”

No.

Not yet.

Please, not yet.

“Your new friend Beca?”

Beca forced the smile back onto her face, and she stood up.

“Nice to meet you,” Beca said, looking into the faces of her daughters. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

She turned to face Chloe.

“You’re leaving?”

“I should let you have some time with your girls,” Beca said. She took Chloe’s hand in hers, and looked at her wife for what would be the last time. “It was truly a pleasure meeting you, Chloe.”

“I’ll see you again I hope?”

Beca smiled. “Of course. You’ll remember what I said?”

Chloe tilted her head, her eyebrows pulled together in confusion.

“It’s okay,” Beca said. “I know you heard it. It’ll come back to you when you need it.”

“Okay,” Chloe said, still confused. “Do you think… would it be okay if we hugged? You can ask the girls, I’m a hugger.”

She heard a small sniff and she saw Riley quickly leave the room.

“Allergies,” Blake said, quickly.

“Of course we can hug,” Beca said. “I’ve had a wonderful afternoon with you Chloe.”

Chloe stood, her blanket slipping off her lap, and she wrapped her arms around Beca, and Beca hugged back as tight as she dared.

She buried her face in Chloe’s neck and breathed in.

She still smelled like Chloe.

“You know Beca, I think we’re gonna be really fast friends.”

And everything inside of Beca broke.

“Hey, what is it?” Chloe said, softly as Beca clung to her and cried.

“Mom, it’s okay,” Blake said. She stuck her head out of the door and called to her younger sister.

Chloe shot Blake a look of confusion as this apparent stranger sobbed into her shoulder.

“You’re okay,” Chloe said, softly. “Come on, now, you’re okay. I’ve got you.”

“I love you,” Beca whispered into her ear, choking it out between sobs. “Don’t forget that, okay? I love you.”

“Okay, that’s, um, very nice,” Chloe said.

Beca’s chest started feeling tight as she struggled to get air into her lungs.

“Why don’t you sit down? We can call a nurse and-”

“No,” Beca said, quickly, struggling to suck air into her useless lungs. “I just need… in my bag.”

“Here,” Blake said, handing her her inhaler.

“Thank you,” Beca said, taking several deep puffs from it. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry, Chloe.”

She looked at Chloe again, and knew with certainty it was for the last time.

She had gotten a couple of minutes with Chloe - the real Chloe - this afternoon and that was more than she could have hoped for.

“It really was lovely to meet you Chloe,” she said.

“Yes, you too,” Chloe replied, although she sounded less than convincing. “See you another time?”

“I look forward to it,” Beca said.

“Riley, why don’t you make sure… Beca, here, gets to where she needs to be,” Blake said, looking between her parents with pain in her eyes.

“Sure,” Riley said.

When they were away from the room, Riley pulled her Mom into a hug.

“That was a rough one, huh?” Riley asked.

“Unbearable,” Beca said. “She was… she was back. I had her back for like, five minutes. And then…”

Riley kissed her on the head. “Come on, I’ll get one of the nurses to get you some tea and when we’re done we can drive you home.”

Beca frowned. “It’s Thursday. Is Blake not doing dinner?”

“No, she is, but you don’t usually feel like company after a bad visit,” Riley said.

Beca waved a hand of dismissal. “I wanna spend some time getting climbed on by my grandkids. Will your new lady be joining us?”

Riley blushed like a teenager, despite being in her forties. “Not tonight, Mom. It’s a bit soon for a family dinner.”

“Oh come on, you’ve been dating for months! I want to meet her, I have so many embarrassing stories to tell!”

“I know you do,” Riley said. “Which is why we’re gonna wait a few more weeks before we scare her off. Don’t worry, there are endless amounts of family dinners ahead of us for you to embarrass me at.”

Beca smiled. “Okay,” she said.

She hadn’t told the girls she was sick. They had enough in their plates with Chloe, and she didn’t want to add to it.

When the time came, yes, she knew they’d be hurt. She knew that hurt didn’t even come close to covering it. They had all but said their goodbyes to Chloe, but they had no idea that Beca would be beating her to the afterlife.

She knew if she asked them, they’d rather she told them.

It was cruel to blindside them, but in a way wasn’t it crueler to have them watch her slowly waste away in a hospital? To leave them saddled with medical bills that their inheritance would only just cover?

Because she knew her girls, they wouldn’t just let her slip away. They’d want her to fight, and Beca was too tired for fighting.

No. She wouldn’t do that to them. She had already written letters for all of them - including Chloe - and she had left instructions with her solicitors that they would get handed out after her death.

In her will, she’d left most of her money to her daughters and Blake’s four kids, along with a lump-sum donation to Barden Nursing Home.

Her affairs were in order.

The girls didn’t need to know.

“Mom? Are you ready?”

Beca smiled as her daughters approached, and she gratefully took Riley’s hand when she offered it.

She was quiet on the drive back to Blake’s house.

“Sure you’re up for dinner, Mom?” Blake asked, glancing at her in the rear view mirror.

Beca smiled and nodded.

That night she basked in the attention of her grandkids.

The two twin boys - Jackson and Christopher, aged seven - kept trying to explain their favourite show to their grandmother.

They kept acting out scenes, speaking in odd voices, shooting each other with fake guns.

Beca tried to follow along but really she just wanted to watch them play.

The youngest - Davey, four - sat comfortably on her lap.

“Gram read it?” He said, holding up a book.

“Again?” Beca asked.

“Please?”

“Okay,” she said.

“Grandma!” Christopher said, pulling her attention back to him. “Grandma! Look! Then the bad guys do this!” He aimed a finger gun at his brother and deepened his voice. “Prepare to die!”

“Ah ha,” Beca said.

“Gram,” Davey tugged at her sleeve and then placed a hand on his book.

“Sorry,” Beca said, picking up where she left off from.

The noise and distraction was welcome.

It kept Beca’s mind from wandering. She needed a few hours where she wasn’t mourning Chloe.

It was working until ten year old Anne walked into the room, looking far too somber for any ten year old.

“Who’s upset you then?” Beca asked. “I might be old but I can still throw a punch.”

Anne smiled, but only just. “Is grandma better yet?”

Beca frowned. “No, honey. I’m sorry.”

Anne had been the apple of Chloe’s eye right up until the moment she started to forget her.

Blake and her husband David had made the decision early on that the kids shouldn’t visit Chloe. It would be too hard for them to see their grandma and have her not recognise them.

“Is she going to get better soon?”

Beca let out a small sigh. “I don’t know,” she said.

Anne’s face fell, and Beca’s heart broke.

She wished she didn’t have to leave these kids behind.

“Listen, your grandma loves you very much. And so do I. And we always will, no matter what.”

Davey started to fuss on Beca’s knee, and she turned her attention back to him.

“If I wrote grandma a letter, would you give it to her?” Anne asked. “I don’t want her to think I’ve forgotten her.”

Tears filled Beca’s eyes, and she smiled. “Of course. But you should give it to your Mom or aunt Riley. They’ll see her before I do.”

Anne nodded, and went off to her room.

The rest of the night continued the same way every Thursday night dinner did.

Blake complained that Beca ate too little and that her husband ate too much.

The twins would devour anything left too close to them, and Anne would pick out any bit of vegetable she found, no matter how small it had been cut up.

Then Beca would attempt to help with the dishes until she was told to cut it out, and Riley would drive her home.

Before she left that night, she hugged and kissed each of her grandkids, and told them all she loved them beyond comprehension.

She kissed Blake’s cheeks - standing on her tiptoes to do so - and briefly cupped her face in her hands. She told her she loved her too.

She patted David on the arm.

“You’re a good man,” she said. “You’ll take care of them.”

“Jeez, Mom, what’s got you so morbid?”

“Just the joys of ageing,” Beca said.

She didn’t know why she was feeling so sentimental that night, but she put it down to the emotion of the day.

In the car, Beca was quiet again.

“Something’s up with you,” Riley said.

“Today was tough,” Beca said, her head on the window. She turned to look at her daughter, and she seemed to transform in front of her eyes and back again. “Has anyone ever told you how much you look like your mom?”

“You, every day since I was born,” Riley said, laughing as she ran a hand through her short, ginger hair.

“This new girlfriend of yours,” Beca said, “is she nice?”

“What? Yes, Mom, of course.”

“She treats you well? She’s kind? She doesn’t blow up at wait staff or lose her temper in traffic?”

“She’s great,” Riley said. “Look, you can meet her soon, okay? She’s just a bit nervous around parents. She… she didn’t get on great with her own. They weren’t cool when she came out.”

Beca let out a sigh. “Poor girl. You’d think my generation would have grown out of that. Apparently not. As long as she makes you happy, and treats you well, then that’s all that matters.”

Riley laughed. “What, are you trying to make sure I’m married off before you kick it?”

Beca laughed too. “No. I just want you to be happy, my girl.”

“I am,” Riley said. “And not because I’m in a relationship, but because I just… am.”

Beca smiled. “Good. I’ve… I’ve had a very good life, Ri. And I don’t think I realised how good it was, how lucky I was, until your Mom got sick. I wish I could go back and just… enjoy it. Savour it. Those moments I spent with your mom where we would just… talk. And be with each other. I wish I could tell myself to appreciate each and every one.” Beca wiped her eyes. “Promise me you’ll do that?”

“Mom, you sound like you’re giving me some goodbye speech.”

Beca smiled and shook her head. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” Riley said. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure,” Beca said.

They pulled up outside Beca’s home.

“You want me to walk you in?”

“I’m not that old yet. I love you. You know that, right?”

“Of course I do. I love you too, Mom.”

Beca smiled at her daughter, and leant across the car to kiss her cheek.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” Beca said. “I need to pop into town and pick up a prescription.”

“I’ll take you.”

Beca smiled. “You’re a good girl. See you tomorrow.”

Riley waved and watched as her Mom walked into her house and shut the door behind her. She drove to her girlfriend’s, her heart heavy with sadness for her parents.

Maybe tonight she should tell Sarah that she loved her.

It was true, she had always just been too scared to say it.

She wasn’t sure what she was afraid of anymore.

Beca’s house was as quiet as it always was these days.

She made a cup of chamomile tea, and popped open the Thursday PM slot on her pill caddy. She took the handful of pills and swallowed them with a mouthful of tea.

Then she settled herself in her favourite armchair, and turned on some music.

She was tired.

Really tired.

It had been such a long day.

She felt a tightness in her chest, but it wasn’t any worse than usual so she thought nothing of it.

The song changed and the opening notes of Titanium played out.

This was considered an oldie now.

Beca smiled, and closed her eyes as she remembered the first time she sang that song with her wife.

God, what a life they’d had.

She didn’t open her eyes again.

102 notes · View notes

deejadabbles · 3 years

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Vampire Atem/Yami Alphabet Headcanons

Found this list of vamp-themes headcanons by @an-annyeoing-writer and I knew I had to do them for our favorite king-turned-spirit!

For those of you who read my Spells of Defiance series, these headcanons can be taken as 100% canon to that AU <3

A - Accident - would they turn someone to save their life?

Oof, already starting with a hard one. So, Atem is one of those vampires who hates his existence, he believes it’s a curse. However, he does still love and care for people deeply, and he knows that for many, life is sacred even if it’s a cursed life. I think in a moment of weakness, especially in his earlier years as a vampire, he might turn someone just because he’s desperate not to lose them, only to regret his decision later, especially if that someone is like him and hates what they’ve become. We all make mistakes, right?

B - Bite - how do they bite? Sensually, aggressively? Do they make it hurt or try to be gentle?

Atem is extremely gentle when he feeds off of people, always careful not to bite too deep or tear the skin more than needed, he even holds you and tries to soothe you with gentle strokes of his hands. Now, whether he tries to make it “sensual” or at all sexual...that’s a complicated topic. While Atem is almost always disgusted with himself when/while he feeds, he does recognize that there is a level of intimacy and even romance that can be connected with drinking blood, so sometimes he can be persuaded to make it a more sensual thing if you’re his lover.

C - Control - do they take advantage of their powers?

That depends on who’s in the equation. I can see Atem using his new powers in order to bring justice to those he sees as wrong doers (like his season 0/early manga-self) as a way to make his vampire abilities useful, so from that angle he would “take advantage” of his powers. He might even get some small gratification in using his strength and speed to hunt down evil people, them cowering in fear is retribution for their wrong-doings, but even that’s not too over the top. Other than that, no, he doesn’t really use his powers for advantages over others.

D - Dangerous - how scary they can get? How bad things can they do? What’s their ethics?

So, while Atem does have a very strong moral code, Atem also has a temper, and said temper might be harder to control when he’s a vampire. Even when he’s not growling in anger, he can have this cold glare that could make bikers squeamish. There are moments, especially when he was a younger vampire, where he loses his temper and can get pretty scary. If you’re his loved one don’t worry too much, he would never lose control enough to hurt you, even though his yelling (and maybe throwing a thing or two) is pretty scary on it’s own. If you’re someone he sees a vermin though watch out, when he gets scary you’re probably going to end up dead or wishing you were dead.

E - Exchange - do they opt for blood bags or animal blood, if possible?

He opts for animal blood as often as he can. Sometimes he’ll hunt said animals himself but even that is a little too violent for his liking (Atem is a softie okay?!) so if he can go to a local butcher and get animal blood from them he’ll do it that way. He’s not fond of blood bags because A) they’re harder to acquire and B) having human blood in a cold plastic bag just makes him long for warm human blood and skin under his teeth more. Sure animal blood isn’t as sustaining for him, but Atem spent decades (maybe even centuries) figuring out how much animal blood he needs to consume in order to keep his blood lust under control so he’ll choose that over harming an innocent human.

Also, side note, if you live with him I hope you don’t have a sensitive sense of smell, because he heats up the blood on the stove to make it taste better and it can make the house stinky lol

F - First bite - on what occasion would they bite you for the first time?

Oooh that’s a good one. Like I said Atem has a very complicated relationship with feeding from his loved ones, especially his s/o, and he’s never going to ask you for your blood. So I’d say that not only would you have to offer your blood to him, but he would have to be out of other feeding options at the time. He knows that once he reaches a certain point of hunger he loses control and might kill you in a hunger-induced blood rage, so if drinking from you now, before he gets to that point, prevents that danger, he’d be willing to. Like I said above, Atem would be very gentle with you on that occasion, holding you close and stroking the skin around the bite mark to soothe any pain, and when he’s done he’d kiss the wound and the sore skin around it as amends.

The only other “first bite” scenario I can think of is if you spend months convincing him that you don’t mind (or even like) the occasional bite and finally convince him to drink your blood during an intimate moment, and again he’s very gentle and mindful of not hurting you.

G - Growl - are they more on the “civilized” side or do they enjoy hunting their prey down?

A bit of both, I guess? Since he tries not to drink from humans he’s more civilized in that way, but like I said before he does “hunt” evil people like an avenging dark angel, which he may get some small form of enjoyment from, so...

H - Hate - how do they feel about their kind? About themselves?

It’s honestly pretty depressing how much self-loathing Atem harbors. He genuinely thinks he’s an abomination. It doesn’t help that in all his centuries of living, he’s met very few vampires who’re “good” like him. He’s also someone who’s on a high horse and if he met a vamp who didn’t kill human’s but also wasn’t self loathing like him, he’d look down on said vampire. I’m warning you now if you fall in love with him, his self-hatred is very upsetting and can be hard to deal with.

I - Intimacy - how fast would they let you close to them? Would they want to share with you what they are?

Surprisingly, I say it’s not that hard. See, even though Atem thinks he’s a monster and tries his best to stay away from people, he also craves companionship and love. Sure, he’s spent several chunks of his immortal life isolating himself in remote woods and tall mountains for decades at a time, but he always returns to humanity at some point. So if you show that you want to be close to him he’ll try to warn you or even scare you away a bit, but it won’t take too long to let you in. And yes, he’d share what he is with you if you started to get close to him, not only as a means to scare you away “before he can hurt you” but also so you know what you’re getting into by being near him.

J - Joke - would they do pranks on other people with the use of their powers?

Sometimes, yes. If he’s close to you, he’ll start to get comfortable and like teasing you, so he’ll do minor things like sneak up behind you soundlessly and jump scare you, or zoom past you to get to something before you and play keep-away. Also, he doesn’t do this one intentionally, but sometimes he’ll be sitting in a dark room, and when you walk in you just suddenly hear this voice calling out to you in the darkness, scaring the crap outta you lol

K - Key - what’s the way of making them open up to you?

Honestly just...continue to shove your friendship in his face. Like I said under “intimacy” he still craves relationships and companionship despite how much he fears hurting people. He may try to push you away at first but if you just continue to hang around him he’ll eventually stop trying to scare you away and start opening up to you little by little.

L - Life - do they wish they were human?

Absolutely. I can see Atem, ever the fixer of problems, spending the first few hundred years searching for a cure for his “condition” not just for himself but for others who view vampires the same way. He often thinks about what his life would have been if he hadn’t been turned, and daydreams about the possibility of becoming human again.

M - Murder - would they kill someone while feeding? Have they ever done so?

Atem has killed while feeding, yes, but not voluntarily. I’m going with the general lore that vampires, when starved too long, can't control their bloodlust and Atem has killed while in that state. When he wakes with a limp, lifeless body in his arms, he’s a devastated wreck. Hurting innocent people is literally his living nightmare and the idea that his bloodlust can turn him into an animal sickens him. He would spend decades learning how much blood he needs to consume and how often, in order to keep that bloodlust from taking control.

N - Nature - do they justify their doings? Do they consider them natural?

Atem, the self-loathing martyr of a fanged prince, considering his bloodlust natural? LMAOOOO No. No he doesn’t, nor does he ever justify his actions. In fact, he uses the terrible things he’s done to justify why he shouldn’t be loved or even alive.

O - Odd - do they have any specific hobbies or habits?

Our gentle dark prince still loves games and puzzles, I think he’d like modern brain teasers that keep his mind sharp and un-ironically loves the puzzle games printed on the back of sunday newspapers, even though they aren’t hard (for him anyway). If you got close to him and showed him games he never got to play bc they’re multiplayers he’d honestly love you. He’d win most of the time, let's be honest, especially things like Clue, but his expression is just so cute and excited when you play his favorites that you’d lose 1000 times over just to see it.

P - Pain - are they sadistic? Do they enjoy what they do?

Nope. I think you all have the idea by now but Atem is one of the most self-loathing and gentle vampires you’d meet....or at least he’s gentle with you. Other vampires who hurt people for fun? Okay, I can see him being ever so slightly sadistic when dealing with creatures like that, he has no mercy for vampires who’ve embraced their monstrous curse, best you run the other way when he punishes them, else you may actually get a little frightened of him...

R - Roles - do they enjoy pretending to be normal people? How do they feel about leaving their life behind to start a new one?

I wouldn’t say that Atem pretends to be normal, in fact, the only part of his vampirism that he embraces is being an “other”, or rather, the aesthetic of being odd, something that most humans feel uneasy when confronted with. He’d see this as a good tool to keep people he may hurt away from him. He’s no stranger to stalking graveyards/cemeteries, creeping in the shadows in a way that has others scurrying past if they happen to spot him, basically anything that makes him seem creepy and makes others keep their distance. Ultimately it hurts him since he’s unexplainably lonely, but it hurts more to know he may hurt the humans he comes across. On the same note, leaving behind one life for another to avoid suspicion is a double-edged sword for him, while it reminds him how terribly lonely existence is, it’s good to keep those who might’ve grown close to him safe.

S - Scars - do they leave marks or try to make the wounds small and invisible?

If Atem feeds from someone voluntarily (as in, not in an animalistic state), he’ll do everything he can to not leave lasting marks. Leaving marks means more pain and we all know how much he hates causing pain to others.

T - Turned - how were they turned?

In my fic, Marik turned Atem as a form of revenge, but otherwise, I could honestly see Atem being turned by any YGO villain. I say villain because him being cursed with this life by a villain (like Bakura for example, or maybe another minion of Zorc) kind of goes along with the original story’s need to punish Atem and cast him into darkness for things that ultimately weren’t his fault.

U - Universe - what’s their biggest wish that they can’t achieve as immortals?

Mostly just...being close to people without constantly worrying that he’ll hurt or kill them. I can also see Atem yeaning for the simple pleasure of growing old and dying with one's family. If he fell in love he would crave the ability to just settle down and grow old together. Hell, he’s even one of those morbid romantics who thinks couples dying within days of each other is sweet and wishes he could do that when he loses his lover to old age.

V - Vampire - would they turn you?

Man again with the hard ones! Oof, okay, so...If you asked Atem to turn you, he’d say no, reciting his monologue about how vampires are cursed vermin who shouldn’t even exist, even if you retained your humanity after the turn, he knows the deep reaches of this curse and what it will make you do, and he hates the idea of you going through what he has.

...However, much like in the very first headcanon on this list...Atem makes mistakes and has his weak moments. If your life ended unexpectedly, of you were taken from him suddenly, like attacked or in some fatal accident, he may turn you in a moment of weakness; a desperate need to cling to you taking over his better judgment. He’d hate himself after and the only way he’d ever feel okay with it, is if time proved that you retained your humanity. He would teach you how to control your blood lust so you don’t have to go through half the things he has, and only then would he be okay with what he did to you in his moment of weakness.

W - War - would they engage in fighting their own kind for the humanity’s sake?

Yes! No one even has to ask him, Atem basically thinks the only good thing he can do with his powers is to rid the world of other vampires. He’s basically an avenging angel who’ll hunt down any vampire who threatens a human.

Y - Yandere - would they become dangerous to you (their lover)?

For the most part, I’d say no. Atem is self-aware and emotionally intelligent enough to tell if he ever starts crossing lines into “unhealthy” territory, and if that ever happened, he’d literally run away. He would leave you in order to protect you, no matter how much it hurt. There may be one (literally ONE) incident where he does something to you that crosses the line, but he’d be instantly horrified and remove himself from your life, moving to the other side of the world with no means to follow him, if it meant protecting you from himself. Now the chances of this happening in the first place? Hard to say. I really don’t think Atem is unhinged or even violent enough for it to be likely, but, an argument could be made that after everything he’s gone through, Atem may start seeing you and his love for you in an obsessives, unhealthy way. Again though, even if this did happen he would realize it and run away before it can go too far.

Z - Zombie - are they on their way to losing sanity?

I don’t think so. Atem is as strong (mentally/emotionally) as they come. Maybe eventually, after millennia and millennia of constantly losing loved ones and dealing the the monster he’s become he would start losing his sanity, but that would take a long, long time.

#atem #yami yugi #atem x reader #yami x reader #pharaoh atem #yami yugi x reader #yugioh x reader #vampire au #vampire Atem #vampire yami #ygo #headcanons #atem headcanons #yami headcanons

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abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Daring - Chapter 2

This is part two of my Abby Mordern!Au, you can read Chapter 1 here.

Masterlist

Abby and the reader have dinner at Abby's place. There is music playing and referenced, so I'd recommend you listen to this playlist with all the songs playing in order as soon as the date night begins. About 10k words.

CW for alcohol consumption, mention of death/murder, mention of dubious consent (and possibly terrible grammar. It's 10pm, I just finished this, I don't have a proofreader atm)

Thyme and Tree Bark

“Don’t mess this up, airhead. Take care!”

“Yeah, yeah. Bye, idiot!”

You closed the door behind Mark as he vanished down the stairs and headed straight for your bed. Though you were less wobbly on your feet after devouring half of a perfectly cheesy pizza with just the right amount of jalapenos, it had thrown you straight into a food coma. Your angel of a brother had come over at noon with two chilled cans of coke and a large pizza from your favorite Italian place and not even ripped open the curtains as he usually did. Instead, he had thrown himself on the bed right next to you, handed you a slice, and demanded you start talking.

Of course, he already knew about Abby and your embarrassing shyness when it came to the buff blonde, so he was extremely proud of the progress you had made with your excruciating crush. You both agreed that Abby had definitely invited you over for a date this week - alone, without Manny there - and that it had to mean she was interested, too. He had laughed about the little bar stint when Abby had shut down your flirt with the hot waitress in an instant and was now 100% sure this was going to go great. As long as you kept it together and didn’t ruin everything. As you often did. This needed some tactical planning.

Mouths full of cheesy delight and laughing at each other’s stupid ideas, you and your brother had come up with a fairly foolproof plan. You would text Abby in 1-2 days, keeping it cool and asking when you should come over. Then, you would suggest making cocktails at home, already granting a fun activity and something to loosen the mood. You would keep it casual and bring over some nice liquor and maybe a bag of chips, perfect for watching a movie. You’d try to keep the conversation casual and try to speak mostly about Abby, asking lots of questions so you didn’t get tangled up in speaking about yourself. If you steered the conversation toward movies, you could watch something exciting and maybe even scary together so you could cuddle up on the couch together. And well, if you got that far, things would probably fall into place naturally. Foolproof. Y/N-proof.

You groaned as you reached over to grab your phone from your nightstand. You had a message from your mom asking if you wanted to come over for dinner next weekend and an email from your professor who wanted to submit your last essay to some kind of grant application. You’d have to answer her later, your head still felt like it was filled with cotton. Instead, you sent Leah a message.

-Hey, you still alive? There’s leftover pizza and coke over here.

Five seconds later, there was a delighted squeal at the other side of the wall and you heard the click of your roommate’s door before yours opened and Leah tiptoe-danced inside, beaming at you. She was wearing nothing but an extremely tight-fitting cropped wifebeater and a khaki thong, accentuating her long legs as she leaped right onto your bed and almost made you fly as her weight hit the mattress. You tried not to stare at her perfectly toned abs as she opened the gigantic carton and held up a slice of pizza over her head, letting the tip dangle in her mouth before biting down with a moan that made you snort awkwardly.

“Good morning, you animal.”

Leah just moaned again, making a grabbing motion with her hand and pointing toward the second can of coke on your nightstand. You laughed silently as you handed her the cold can, condensed water running down the sides and wetting your fingers. You wiped them on the blanket. The tall brunette swallowed hard and took a sip of coke.

“Good morning, womanizer.” She grinned widely. “I’m so proud of you, man. This is the first time I’ve seen you in action and I can safely say Abby was just as surprised as I was.”

You buried your face in your hands.

“Oh god, was I that obvious? Did I do anything inappropriate? I thought it went well, but now I’m not so sure.” You spread your fingers to peak at your roommate who was currently chewing on a ginormous bite, tomato juice running down her chin. No manners, that girl. She just shook her head and made a noise somewhere between protest and encouragement.

“No, you were fine,” she said with a full mouth, “very tipsy, but cute. I hope you remember Abby inviting you to her place.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

You ran your fingers through your hair, immediately getting stuck in a tangle of knots. God, you needed a shower.

“Yeah, I already went over it with Mark. We made a plan so I won’t embarrass myself.”

“Good. I hope it goes well, you two would be cute together. Hot, even. I mean, no one can deny the allure of those biceps. And her ass?! Godly.” She easily evaded the kick you aimed at her ribs, laughing and slapping your shin away.

“Come on, let’s not act like you’re not ogling her every chance you get. I am, too - the woman looks like a greek goddess!”

“That’s enough,” you giggled, aiming another playful kick in her direction but only lightly hitting her in the thigh. “I know what she looks like.”

“Right. And soon, you’ll hopefully see a lot more of her.” This time, Leah jumped off the bed before your toes could sink right into her side. You tried to suppress a grin as you two stared at each other for a moment before Leah sat back down cross-legged and began eating the last slice of pizza.

“I mean,” she said casually, “you have seen more of a woman before, right?”

You grabbed your coke and turned it in your hands before answering.

“Yeah, I have. It wasn’t… It wasn’t all that, though. Just one time and we were both so nervous it was just awkward.”

Now Leah looked at you with a mixture of shock and pity.

“Come on, Y/N. Only once? You’ve never seen stars because of a woman’s tongue? Never screamed into a pillow because of some skilled sapphic strap game? Never lost your mi-”

“Leaahhhh!” You groaned, feeling blood shoot into your cheeks. “No, okay? I… I made the other girl cum, but for me, it was just… it was too unfamiliar and I didn’t know her well enough to really let myself enjoy it.”

Suddenly a thought crossed your mind and you felt your eyes open wide.

“Wait. Has Abby…? Is she..?”

Leah paused mid-bite and thought for a second.

“Well, she does have experience with men, obviously. As far as women go… I honestly don’t know. She’s dated a few, but it never went longer than a couple of weeks. I don’t know how fast things go with her and she’s never gone into detail with me. I have to ask Nora about that.”

“Don’t you dare! She’ll know this is about me and tell Abby!”

“Oh come on, I’m interested, too.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll tell you so you know what to prepare for, win-win!” She nudged your foot and gave you a mischievous half-smile.

“For god’s sake, do what you must.” You finished your coke and threw it perfectly into the bin beside your desk. Leah gave you an impressed nod. “And now I desperately need a shower. There is a literal nest on top of my head.”

“True,” Leah said and stood up, stretching her limbs as she walked to the door. “Thanks for the pizza. I’m gonna ask Jordan if he wants to come over, so don’t walk out naked if you don’t want a threesome.” She winked at you before closing the door, but a small part at the back of your brain knew that she wasn’t completely joking. You sighed and swung your legs off your bed. No point in lying around, it was past 3 pm anyway.

Grabbing your phone, a shirt, and some clean boxers, you headed for the bathroom. You took your time showering, detangling the mess on your head with lots of conditioner, humming along to Marika Hackman’s cover of I Follow Rivers as you stood under the hot stream of water and brushing your teeth for at least five minutes while waiting for a hair mask to do its magic. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was filled with hot steam and you felt like a whole new person. You slipped into your fresh clothes and held the blow dryer to the mirror until your reflection was clear.

So. Here you were. Finally, you had spoken to the woman of your dreams and even flirted with her. She may have even been jealous of your short conversation with Ellie, the bartender. Tomorrow, you would text her, you would be brave and cool and not at all awkward. As you collected your clothes off the floor and took your phone, you suddenly realized something that would destroy your entire plan. You didn’t even have Abby’s phone number. Why hadn’t you asked her? Of course, you could ask Leah for it, but Abby would know because she knew she hadn’t given it to you. It would be a lot less cool and casual. Fuck.

You stepped into the hallway and ran straight into Jordan. Perfect. Good thing Leah had warned you.

“Oh, hi Y/N! You doing alright after all those tequila shots?” Jordan’s face was open and kind. You immediately relaxed. Just a guy, not a threat.

“Better than I thought I would, actually. What about you?”

“Well, I sent them back out the way they came as soon as I got home.” He grimaced and shrugged. “Just glad I’m still alive, to be honest.”

You had to laugh. “I’m glad, too. Leah would have been devastated.”

“I hope so.” He grinned back. The silence between you stretched a little bit too long.

“Anyways, I’m gonna see what she’s up to. See you later?”

“Yeah, sure!” You said, relieved that he didn’t make it awkward. You quickly slipped into your room and sank down on the bed, composing a text to Mark.

-Minor hiccup - I don’t have her number.

His reply came immediately.

-Shit. What now?

You let yourself fall back on the mattress and covered your face with your arm. Your phone vibrated again and you lifted it up, hoping for a brilliant idea.

-Hey, this is Abby. Are we still on for next week?

You almost dropped your phone on your face. For a minute, you just stared at the message. Then you rolled over onto your stomach and screamed into your pillow.

-Hi Abby. We absolutely are. Y/N.

You tried to suppress a fit of giggles as you texted your brother.

-Nvm, she just texted me.

-Omg what!! Play it cool, don’t answer yet. What did she say???

-Oops already answered. Still on for next week.

-Incredibly casual lol. Whatever, good for you!

-Shut up!

Another text by Abby came in and you actually started drumming your feet on the bed with excitement.

-Tuesday? I could cook for us

-Very impressive, I’ll bite. What time should I come over?

-Very clever. 6pm? Any allergies?

-Vegetarian, hope that’s okay. 6 is great, text me your address?

You watched the little text bubble pop up and vanish again for a good minute, getting more and more nervous for her answer.

- No problem. 2425 Constance.

There was nothing else to do but scream into your pillow again.

The next two days went excruciatingly slow. You spent the rest of your Sunday in bed, watching a terrible zombie movie and later ordering curry because you couldn’t be bothered with preparing any food. As it got late, you suddenly heard a knock on the wall. At first, you thought it was accidental, until the knocking started to continue in a steady rhythm. With a death glare that you hoped would reach through the concrete, you plugged your headphones into your laptop and continued watching your movie.

On Monday, you threw yourself into art history coursework and caught up on your studies, emailed your professor, and spent three hours on an essay about the depiction of blood in paintings of Judith beheading Holofernes. Lovely subject. Even though you got through a lot of your tasks for the day, you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at your phone every 10 minutes to see if you had missed a message. Of course, nothing came up. Around 4 pm, your phone buzzed and you leapt for it only to find out it was Leah asking you to buy toilet paper later. At 6pm, you shut off your laptop and grabbed your backpack to go grocery shopping.

Standing in the liquor store you realized you hadn’t asked Abby about cocktails.

“Looking for something in particular?” the elderly lady behind the counter asked. It seemed to be her own shop and to have been hers for a while, judging by the elegant wooden shelves and the warm, nice feeling of the room instead of neon lights and rows of white metal.

“Uh, yeah, actually. I have a date tomorrow and I thought we could make cocktails, but I forgot to ask what she likes. So now I don’t know what to bring.” You gave her an apologetic half smile. She stood up from her seat behind the register, growing not even 2 inches standing compared to sitting and made her way over to you. Her eyes twinkled behind thick glasses that made her look a little bit like an owl.

“Well, dear. I don’t know if I would go straight into the hard liquor on a first date. On my last first date, we had a delicious red wine, a Merlot. Couldn’t that be something? Are you going to eat anything?”

“Oh yes, she said she’d cook for us, but I don’t know what exactly.”

The shop owner gently put a hand on your arm and guided you to a shelf of dark bottles.

“Well, Merlot goes well with any food, so I think it would be perfect. Cocktails come later, when you dress up and go out together or after a night of theater.” You felt a surge of warmth spread through your chest. Theater? Well, why not? For a second, you began to trail off, imagining Abby in a perfectly tailored suit, you at her arm just as dressed up, every head turning as you entered the room and ordered Gin Tonics at the bar during the break. The voice next to you pulled you back to the present.

“If you’re cooking at home, wine is the thing to bring, trust me.”

“I trust you,” you said with a smile as you took the bottle she handed you. The label was a creamy white, with beautiful golden letters. Hopefully this wouldn’t bankrupt you. “Thank you for your help.”

The shopkeeper sat back down in her chair with a sigh and typed into the cash register. 15.99$. That wasn’t so bad. You paid and gently put the bottle inside your backpack.

“You know, you should come by soon and let me know how it went. I think that Merlot will bring you good luck. My wife and I still have it every Sunday.” Your head snapped up and your eyes met that charming, smart twinkle again, flashing at you out of dark brown irises. For a moment, all of the things you wanted to say were stuck in your throat, then you just broke into a smile.

“That’s wonderful, ma’am. I hope I can have that, in the future.”

“Of course you will, dear.” She really sounded like she meant it. A small lump suddenly appeared in your throat.

“Thank you so much. I wish you all the best.”

“Go get her!”

You laughed and waved at her again as you exited the shop, taking the warmth and comfort of it with you and tucking it right beneath the bottom of your heart and the top of your stomach where you knew it would fuel you for a few days. You had already decided that you would come back and make it your mission to befriend that old lady. What a wonderful woman.

Only 23 hours to go. That night, it was almost impossible to fall asleep.

You got through the next day by once again banning any thought of the evening from your mind and diving head first into your assignments. You were going to lead a discussion on different planes of language or communications in women’s art and literature and reading up on the historical differences between male and female narratives, beginning with the ancient poet Sappho. It was an exciting topic, something you were extremely thankful for. Otherwise you might have been looking at your phone every 3 minutes instead of every 20. Of course, no message from Abby.

The bottle of wine was standing on your nightstand, reminding you of your plans with an exciting tingle in your stomach. At 4pm, you gave up on doing anything productive. You spent forever in the shower, stealing some of Leah’s expensive pink body scrub, shaving everywhere and regretting it immediately because you felt stupid for assuming anything, entertaining the but what if thoughts while you thoroughly lathered your entire body in Leah’s shampoo and shower gel and spending a good 10 minutes just standing under the hot water because you weren’t ready to leave that fantasy yet. When you stepped out of the shower, the bathroom was an actual steam bath and you could hardly see the door through the thick waves of wonderfully scented fog. You took your time stealing some more of Leah’s skincare products, having come to the conclusion that if she noticed anything and scolded you for it, you might as well try out the whole arsenal.

When you finally opened your closet door, feeling luxurious and clean and fresh, it was 5.10pm. What the hell were you going to wear? You and Mark had agreed on casual, but what the hell did that even mean? You decided to ask him.

-Help!!! Freaking out over my outfit, need a definition for casual

-Jeans and T-Shirt, just your standard outfit. Imagine meeting me for sushi.

-I’m bringing red wine. It seems wrong to bring wine in jeans and a t-shirt..

-What happened to cocktails?? Trust me, keep it simple. You don’t wanna turn up in a dress and she opens the door in sweatpants.

-I don’t think I’ve ever seen her in sweatpants. Ughh fuck I don’t have time for this. Jeans and t-shirt it is. Lesbian grandma recommended wine, I’ll tell you about it tomorrow x

-Go get her x

You quickly slipped into some black jeans that were just the right amount of tightly fitting around your ass and a white shirt with a tiny pomegranate embroidered on the front. Then you put on your jacket and quickly threw your wallet, phone and keys into a tote before grabbing the wine and putting it in as well. With a last look into the hallway mirror and a yelled goodbye to Leah, you rushed out of your apartment.

The evening air was not as cool as you had expected and the sun was just about to set. On your way to the train station, you typed out an on my way! message to Abby and quickly deleted it again. No sense in sending it now when you hadn’t spoken since Sunday and were about to see her. The train ride was annoying, the wagon stuffed with commuters and some guy trying to convince you the apocalypse was upon you all. Zombies, not the last judgement - something different at least.

During the walk from the station to Abby’s house, you were sure it wouldn’t take much more for you to actually start levitating. Your heart was pounding in your chest and your throat was so cramped up it was hard to breathe. When you pulled out your phone, your fingers were actually shaking. Jesus Christ, get a grip. 5.58 pm.

And there it was, 2425 Constance. Just a normal suburban white house, like any other in the street. It actually seemed a bit weird, Manny and Abby living here in the midst of what seemed to be a family neighborhood with real adults . Then again, they both weren’t in college, so you supposed they actually were real adults. When you walked up to the front door, you could hear faint music from inside - jazz? You wouldn’t have guessed she was the jazz type, but then again you knew almost nothing about her. Right. Ask questions, keep the conversation about her. Be cool.

You knocked.

Abby opened the door, a wave of warm air hitting you from inside. It smelled delightful. Her face was slightly flushed, her lips parted as she took in a deep breath. She had tied her hair back in a low bun, but a few strands had fallen out and framed her face. One was standing up in a funny angle.

“Hi, Abby,” you said, trying to keep your voice level and not stare at her body. Fuck, she had dressed up. And she looked hot.

“Hi!” A smile slowly grew wide on her face. When she realized that she was blocking the door, she quickly shook her head and stepped aside. “Come in! Can I take your jacket?”

Oh God, this was hopeless. You already knew you were hers. Thanking her, you took off your jacket and she hung it in a closet next to the entrance. When she turned around, you got a chance to admire her fully. She wore wide dress pants that perfectly accentuated all of her muscles, topped with a loose white shirt with wide sleeves, reminding you a little bit of a pirate. Her jewelry rounded off the pirate look and you had to bite back a grin. She raised her eyebrows at you.

“What?” Her cheeks were still slightly red, but you attributed it to standing in a hot kitchen for probably the last hour, judging by the variety of smells overlapping and mixing together, already making your mouth water.

“Uh, I brought wine,” you said and held out the bottle. Eloquent as always. Abby took it and whistled through her teeth as she inspected the label.

“That looks classic. The sauce I made has some wine in it as well, this is perfect. Thank you, what a great idea!”

You were overwhelmed with her generous praise and didn’t know where to look, so you settled on her hands. You had always sneaked looks at her hands, at the way she held a glass or drummed on a table or clasped them when she was intently listening to someone. They looked strong and rough from work, but there was also a delicacy in their movement and you were sure her touch could be as gentle as the brush of a hummingbird flying past. Realizing you were staring, you tore your gaze away.

“It smells delicious in here, I can’t wait to see what you cooked.” You followed her into the kitchen, where she placed the bottle on the counter and took a corkscrew from a drawer. A big red pot was standing on the gas stove over a tiny flame, the lid still hiding its contents. Your stomach suddenly growled loudly into the silence.

“Someone’s hungry.” Abby gave you a side glance and an amused smirk as she screwed the silver device into the cork. “Everything’s already set, we can get started right away.”

You covered your eyes with your hand for a second before laughing.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot to have lunch earlier and then I figured I’d just wait so I could really savour this.”

“Smart thinking. I made patates au vin , a vegetarian version of coq au vin which is chicken in wine. It’s basically potatoes and vegetables in a thick brown sauce, served with some good rustic bread.” You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back at the thought of getting to eat home cooked french cuisine made by Abby in a few minutes.

“Oh my God, say that again.” You could barely stop yourself from moaning. Abby laughed and opened the wine with a loud pop.

“Here, take this over to the dinner table. I’m right behind you.” You took the bottle and followed her nod into the dining room. The wooden table was beautifully set with big and small plates, glasses for water and wine, candles, two blue glass bottles of water and a bowl of salad topped with what looked like apples, pomegranate seeds and feta cheese. You carefully placed the bottle of wine next to the water bottles and stepped aside for Abby, who came out of the kitchen carrying the heavy pot and placed it on a cork coaster in the middle of the table.

“Wait, let me just…” she trailed off as she grabbed her phone from the sideboard and changed the music. A saxophone led a jazz band into the song before a beautiful female voice set in, soft as butter and filling the room like the smell of roses. The voice was familiar to you, but you couldn’t quite place it. As Abby sat down, the music came to a crescendo before breaking off, the voice setting in again with a soft

is it a crime?

“Who sings this?” you asked as Abby opened the water bottle and filled your glasses.

“Oh, it’s Sade. She was my dad’s favorite.”

And I want you to want me too, the woman sang, and your eyes met over the table. You swallowed. Was? Not the right time.

“Sade? Oh, she sings Smooth Operator, right? I know that one, but I never checked out more of her music.”

Abby smiled at you and opened the lid of the pot.

“Yeah. This is the Promise album, my favorite. She is a force.”

A wave of steam erupted from the pot and you bent forward to look inside. Thick, roasted wedges of yellow potatoes lay in a bed of orange and purple carrots, mushrooms and tomatoes in a thick brown sauce, a stalk of thyme on top and a bay leaf poking out from the sauce. You weren’t sure if you were drooling, but you didn’t care.

“Abby, oh my God! This is fantastic.”

A spark had lit in her eyes when she heard you say her name. She elegantly stood up again, grabbed a serving spoon, and held out her hand for your plate. You watched her hands again as she plated an array of vegetables for you and used the spoon to draw a little sauce heart on the rim of the plate. Your ribs felt two sizes too small around your chest. This woman was actually going to be the death of you.

“Thanks,” you quietly said and waited as Abby helped herself to a plate. She sat down and gestured toward the small basket with thick slices of grey bread with a dark brown crust.

“Help yourself. Bon appétit.”

After a few moments of eating in comfortable silence before you showered the blonde in an array of compliments, this time not able to refrain from moaning when you bit into a tender, sweet purple carrot, the conversation began to flow. Abby complimented the wine, you talked about your studies, Abby told a few work stories in which both she and Nora were involved, you told her about your close relationship with your brother and she bittersweetly reminisced about her upbringing as an only child with a single dad. It had just been the two of them, moving frequently because of his changing jobs in different hospitals. He had been a neurosurgeon, and a brilliant one at that, but always humble and ready to help wherever he could. Abby sat up straighter when she talked about him, her chest actually swelling with pride when she told you about one time they had rescued an injured horse that had run away and been hit by a car in front of them.

“I think I was 16 back then. It’s one of my favorite memories of him. It actually wasn’t long before…” Her eyebrows moved into a frown and she bit her lip, pushing a small piece of onion around her plate. Fuck, maybe it would have been easier to talk about you, after all.

“We don’t have to talk about it. You can tell me when you’re ready.”

She looked up and you expected to see tears, but her eyes were full of love and her face smoothed out into a gentle smile.

“No, it’s okay. I’m still working on it, and part of my therapy is telling people who don’t know yet. You know, I don’t really have a lot of friends.” She suddenly laughed, easing the tension at the bottom of your lungs. “That sounds stupid, of course I do. I have Manny and Nora and Leah and Jordan and Owen, I guess. But the thing is, they all knew me before. I haven’t really made friends ever since my dad.. passed away. The idea of needing to open up to someone about all this so I can develop a real connection and friendship with them is just a lot to bear.”

“The mortifying ordeal of being known,” you mumbled, more to yourself, crumpling up your napkin in one hand.

“Sorry?”

“Oh, it’s this quote from a New York Times article that has been floating around the internet for a while. ‘If we want the rewards of being loved we have to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known’.” You looked up at her and inhaled deeply. “It’s something I’m also terrified of. Although it seems kind of stupid sometimes, because compared to you for example, I don’t really have a good reason.”

Abby looks at you like she’s just discovered something extremely interesting. She takes a sip of her wine before answering, her silver rings blinking at you in the candlelight.

“It’s not at all stupid. I’ve always been very careful with who I open up to, even before my dad died. It’s horrifying, laying yourself bare for a person, putting yourself on a silver plate and handing it to them and saying there, now do with it what you wish. Maybe they’ll look at it and say no, thanks. Maybe they’ll call everyone and say hey, look at this mad woman with her twisted insides, isn’t that funny? Maybe they’ll see it and think, I can do this, and then after a few years they suddenly realize they actually can’t and you’re way too much and so they leave for someone with a more simple, prettier silver plate. Maybe they’ll even take a few pieces with them as they go.”

She didn’t sound bitter as she said it, and she didn’t look terribly sad either, more as if she was making an observation about something she was mildly interested in. You didn’t know what to say except for show me your silver plate, please show me your all, and I will devour it, savor it, keep it with me forever. But you stayed silent, your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.

“I’m quite the handful, am I? Sorry, I shouldn’t have thrown all this” - she gestured toward herself - “at you during our first date.” Then her eyes widened as she realized what she had said. “Fuck, sorry, I just assumed… you probably don’t…”

Finally, movement came back into you. You jumped from your chair and were next to her in a few paces. She lifted a hand and you took it in yours.

“Of course this is a date,” you said gently and smiled at her. “Otherwise why would I have been this nervous for the past three days, thinking of nothing but you, constantly checking my phone to see if you texted me? And I brought red wine, come on.” That brought a smile to her face. She chuckled lightly.

“So I haven’t just ruined everything?” The hope in her eyes was mixed with real, honest fear.

“No, of course not. I’m glad you’re being open with me. You know, I planned not to reveal too much about myself tonight, fearing I would scare you away or say something stupid and make you suddenly lose interest.”

The current song ended and a soft, funky beat came on. There it was again, that twinkle in Abby’s eyes. Your hands were still clasped around hers and she made no move to pull back.

“Well, now I can’t wait to see what you have in store for me. Lay it on me. Over dessert, maybe?”

You raised your eyebrows.

“There’s dessert? You’re going to have to roll me out of here later.”

She laughed, warm and genuine, and the pride you had felt back in The Closet filled your chest again. You would do anything just to be the one to make her laugh every day for the rest of your life. She got up and you both started clearing the table together.

Never going to know

What fate is going to blow

Your way, just hope that it feels right

Could that Sade lady be any more on the nose? You risked a glance at Abby, who was smiling to herself. You followed her into the kitchen and she opened the fridge to produce a large glass dish, showing the several layers of biscuit and white cream, topped with dark cacao.

“Tiramisu? Seriously Abby, how much time did you spend in the kitchen today?”

She gave you a crooked grin before exiting the kitchen.

“Took the day off.”

You just sighed and went back into the dining room.

Such a fine time as this

“Here.” Abby handed you a small plate with a piece of her gourmet tiramisu. Your fingers brushed against each other and you both paused for just the blink of an eye.

What could equal the bliss

The thrill of the first kiss

You sat down and grabbed the small fork left next to your wine glass. On second thought, you took another sip of Merlot. It really was exquisite.

“Buon’ appetito,” you said and sliced off a perfect edge of tiramisu. The soft, coffee-drenched biscuit fell apart on your tongue, mixing with the heavy vanilla-flavored mascarpone. “Did you know where the name tiramisu comes from?”

Abby lifted her fork to her mouth and softly closed her lips around the piece of creamy dessert. You were entranced, watching her hand sink down to the table again, then her jaw moving and flexing as she chewed. She raised her eyebrows questioningly and you cleared your throat, taking another piece on your fork.

“ Tira mi su is Italian for ‘pull me down’. It’s the last thing you eat after dinner and the thing that makes you tired, pulls you right into the food coma. In restaurants, it rounds off the meal and guests will probably leave in the following hour because they feel they’re ready to go home.”

Never as good as the first time

Natural as the way we came to be

“Oh,” Abby said, her voice quiet. She looked up at you through dark lashes. “And are you going home after this?”

“No.” You said it without thinking, only knowing what was true in your heart. “I don’t want to.”

“I’m glad.” Taking a deep breath, Abby straightened up, then reached a hand across the table, her palm facing up. You stared at it for a fraction of a second before placing your hand in hers, feeling something fall into place inside you. The glances you exchanged said so much more than you could possibly dare to say out loud right now.

You used your free hand to stab the last piece of tiramisu. This time it was Abby who was watching you with hungry eyes as the fork vanished between your lips and emerged clean.

“This tiramisu could be the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my life,” you said after swallowing and Abby’s fingers twitched ever so slightly around your hand.

“Thank you. I’m really into French and Italian cuisine, as you may have noticed.”

You leaned back in your chair, careful not to pull back your hand.

“I couldn’t do it, honestly. Spending so much time in the kitchen. Especially not with a job like yours, on your feet all day. I’d probably survive off of pasta and takeout.”

Abby smiled and began slowly drawing circles on the back of your hand with her thumb. You were already hyper-aware of how your blood rushed through every vein of your body, a side-effect of the red wine, but now it came to a roar in your ears.

“I guess I need some kind of hobby besides lifting weights. It calms me down. And it’s not just about the end result, about getting to eat something, but also about picking the right ingredients, taking my time cutting them up, trying new recipes with new flavors, and learning more about food and culture, and honestly about myself. It’s like meditating.”

“That sounds…” you were at a loss for words, “unbelievable? I’ve never heard someone talk about cooking like that. And I’ve never felt that way about it, too. I guess I’d like to, though. It sounds nice.”

Abby brushed her thumb over your knuckles.

“Well, I could show you.” You tilted your head slightly. “I mean, we could cook together. Next time. If you want to?”

Sade’s voice, smooth as polished wood and dripping with honey cut into the moment.

How could I have doubted

Honey, it's with me that you belong

“Yeah, I’d love to. What do you have in mind?”

“Do you like lasagna? We could make a vegetable lasagna and substitute the meat for soy. I could show you how to make a béchamel.”

You laughed and squeezed her hand.

“I love lasagna, although I have no idea what a beshmel is.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” Abby’s face was glowing with happiness.

As the last two songs of the album played, you helped Abby clean up the table. You got into an argument about doing the dishes - Abby said she’d do it later but you insisted you would do them now or at least help because so far you had not lifted a finger.

“Come on, Abby, please let me help?” You tried your best doe eyes at her. She grinned and playfully slapped your upper arm.

“Okay. But I’ll put on different music.”

She vanished to the dining room while you began filling the sink with water. A high note filled the room before a man spoke.

You broke my heart / 'Cause I couldn't dance

You didn't even want me around

And now I'm back / To let you know

I can really shake 'em down

Abby stepped into your field of vision. The music set in, a delightful 60’s rock and roll melody, and Abby began dancing toward you with tiny steps and shaking shoulders. She was lip synching to the coarse voice of the singer and reaching out her hands for you. Snapping out of your frozen position, you shook your head, grabbed her hands, and were immediately twirled through the kitchen. A squeak escaped you as Abby pulled you back toward her and with another pirouette, you almost slammed into her chest. You both laughed out loud, continuing to dance through the kitchen with big, overexaggerated moves, flailing your arms and shuffling your feet across the tile.

I can do the twist

Now, tell me baby

Do you like it like this?

You quickly began singing along to the simple lyrics and both of you were giggling at each other’s dance moves. The next song was Stand By Me and you both settled down, beginning to clean the pots and dishes. You did the washing while Abby dried off the pieces you gave her and put them back into the right cupboards. Both of you were swaying and humming along to the music.

During the second chorus, both of you began belting along, filling the kitchen with the wonderfully familiar sound of slightly drunk women singing together. As the song ended, you both comically froze and waited for the next song to set in. When it was La Bamba by Ritchie Valens, you both continued singing along and showing off some probably terrible salsa moves. You were done in no time and Abby took your hand, pulling you into the dining room and sliding across the wooden floors with you. Your stomach hurt from laughing and you couldn’t stop smiling.

Next came the bittersweet Be My Baby by the Ronettes, a song you remembered from your childhood, vague memories of your parents slow dancing together after another terrible fight. You swallowed down the hint of bitterness creeping up from your stomach. Instead, you looked up at Abby, almost a full head taller than you, and dared yourself to step forward. You placed your right hand in Abby’s and your left on her tricep, coming unbearably and exhilaratingly close. Abby put her hand on your back, right below your shoulder blade, warming you through the fabric of your shirt. Your faces were incredibly close, her breath warm on your nose, and you could have counted every single freckle on her beautiful face. There was a slim ring of gold around her pupil, complimenting the green of her iris. She was breathtaking.

You couldn’t take this any longer. Should you kiss her? Everything inside you wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close the last inch of distance. It felt like wanting to do a handstand but pulling back at the last second every time because of a deep fear of failing and hurting yourself. It was terribly frustrating.

Instead, you leaned your head against the round muscle of Abby’s shoulder, turning your face toward her chest and pressing your temple to her collarbone. You could smell the herbs she had used to cook earlier in the fabric of her shirt, but her skin smelled like pine and something else, earthy and dark, like tree bark or wool. Abby rested her chin against your forehead and her low hum of contentment vibrated against your cheek.

A light waltz melody began, Unchained Melody, a song you knew from some commercial and had listened to for a few weeks straight after.

I need your love

God speed your love to me

You smiled to yourself and could sense Abby was doing the same. You kept slowly turning, dancing through the candle-lit room and swaying side to side. The band set in louder and you lifted your head again. Abby’s eyes were fixed to yours, but you couldn’t stop yours from wandering lower, finding those perfectly pink lips, hanging open ever so slightly. Your hand wandered upward, along her shoulder, and to the back of her neck. As the last verse of the song began, you stood on your tiptoes and brushed your lips against her. Abby inhaled sharply, her fingers spreading on your back and pressing against your skin. You gently pressed your lips to hers again and this time, she kissed you back. You dug your fingertips into the back of her neck, desperately wanting to come closer, to pull her down to you, hell, you would climb her like a tree if you had to.

Feeling courageous, you stuck your tongue out and ran the tip upward over her lips. Abby instantly reacted, opening her mouth for you and greeting your tongue with hers. She tasted like wine and cacao, and faintly like thyme. Releasing your hand, she wrapped her arms around your waist. You reached up and buried your hand in her hair. She gasped into your mouth. You tucked that sound away for later, swearing to yourself you would make her do it again as often as you could.

A few seconds of silence between songs were disrupted by your wonderfully frivolous wet kissing sounds and a small whine that escaped you when Abby’s hand wandered lower to cup your ass. The first guitar chords of Nights In White Satin vibrated through the air and Abby grabbed you tightly before lifting you off the ground and wrapping your legs around her hips. She carried you over to the dining table and set you down.

The dramatic crescendo in the song you loved so much began.

And I love you

Yes I love you

Oh, how I love you

The singer’s voice filled every corner of the room, his declaration hovering above you, the high voices of the background singers ringing in your ears and Abby’s hands everywhere, her body leaning over you, her hips pressed between your legs. You flexed your legs to pull her in closer, almost falling apart when Abby let out a low moan and rocked her hips forward against you. Then she suddenly slowed down and broke the kiss.

“Wait, let’s talk for a second.”

You kept your legs clamped around her, but relaxed back a little, brushing back a strand of hair from her forehead and giving her an encouraging nod to go ahead.

“I haven’t… I’m not that experienced with - with women. And generally. And I don’t want to rush things and do something wrong and lose you. I don’t really know how this works and I want to do it right.”

Her hands on your waist tightened slightly. You gave her a shy smile.

“Me neither. I’m scared, too.” You surprised yourself with your openness. “How about we take this slow, then? Talk about everything openly? And just go one step at a time?”

Abby nodded and pulled you closer again.

Holding Back The Years began playing.

“One kiss at a time.” She gave you a gentle peck on the lips.

“Oh, really? I would have never picked you as the sappy type,” you laughed against her lips.

“You wouldn’t?” She acted shocked. “Let me remind you of how I took the day off to cook a gourmet french dish for you.”

“True.” You shrugged and pulled her in for another kiss. “It’s probably the muscles. With those guns, you can do anything and still be taken seriously.”

Abby snorted and you realized that had been the wine talking. For a second, you were mortified, then she scooped you up again, holding your body with one arm as she ran her free hand through your hair.

“Oh, those? You know, they’re specifically for carrying you around all day. Anything for my - princess.” You had very well noticed the little pause there, but you decided not to say anything yet. Instead, you lifted your chin and eyebrows, imitating what you thought a royal would look like.

“Well, what does that make you? You’re obviously not a prince. My lady knight?”

Abby nodded solemnly.

“Sworn to protect and defend you. And to carry you wherever.”

“Well, do you have a sofa you could carry me to?” You tightened your hold on her shoulders and leaned in closer again.

“Of course, my lady.”

Abby carried you through a doorway at the back of the dining room into a cozy living room, equipped with a large sofa and a gigantic flatscreen tv, two vintage armchairs, a wooden bookshelf with at least 100 books, and a desk facing the window, medical books spread across the surface. The blonde sat down on the sofa and you knelt left and right of her hips, straddling her as you gave her another soft kiss.

“You know,” you began, “I’ve been crushing on you for months now. I thought you had absolutely no interest in me. I didn’t even know you liked women.”

Abby’s eyes widened at your confession.

“Shit, I had no idea. You weren’t exactly forward, you know. The first time we met, you already had this pull on me. But you were so shy and I didn’t want to jump you or annoy you, so I tried to keep my distance and wait if you would come around.”

“You have Leah to thank for that. Me coming around. I kind of forgot to come out to her until karaoke night and she told me you were dating women as well. She knows I’ve been a hopeless case when it comes to you, but she wanted me to figure this out on my own.”

Abby thought about this for a second.

“Yeah, Leah probably only told you because she knew I liked you, too. I haven’t been that open about dating women in the past, just because talking about dating in general was weird with Owen and Mel around and I also just don’t like everyone knowing my personal business.”

“I get that.” You nodded. “As I said, I hadn’t even been out to Leah. Mostly because I haven’t dated anyone in forever and the last time was a disaster not worth talking about.” You winced at the memory.

“You wanna tell me anyway?”

You thought about it for a second, then you climbed off Abby’s lap and laid down on the sofa, resting your head on her thigh. Her fingers immediately began brushing through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Well, I met this girl during a freshman party at a sorority house the weekend before my first semester in college,” you began. You had felt weirdly out of place, but were determined to speak to at least one person. A few hours and an almost-lethal amount of tequila later, the girl you had talked to all night had dragged you into one of the bedrooms. You both had no previous experience, were extremely drunk and it was already 5am. You had fun making out and were both eager to try more, but it had been more out of curiosity than desire for each other and so the experience had not ended in the expected bliss of lesbian sex. Rather, she had come pretty quickly and afterward she'd begun crying and told you she had a boyfriend, and you had gotten dressed and fled the house. After that, dating in college was not really something you thought about much.

Abby listened to your story with interest and sympathy, laughing at a few parts and stroking your hair as you told her about the end of that fateful night. She felt deeply sorry for your experience of strangeness and betrayal, immediately promising to you that she would always tell you what was going on inside her head and what she wanted.

“Like you just did,” you smiled at her. “That was brave. It’s what I should have done that night.”

“I mean, I had a few weird moments, too, before I learned to speak my mind.” Abby’s gaze unfocused and she frowned as she clearly recalled some not very pleasant memories.

“Wanna tell me, too?” you asked, keeping your voice light. She nodded, looking down at you again.

“I mean, there's Owen, obviously. That didn’t work out well and now he is with Mel, leaving me wondering if he was interested in her while we were still together. After we broke up, Nora and I went on a little bender.” Your heart jumped into your throat. Did Abby and Nora...? A wave of jealousy rose from the bottom of your stomach, but you forced yourself to keep your calm, smiling at Abby as she continued.

“We spent every weekend at a different bar, and one of them was actually at The Closet. Nora was making out with a woman in actual overalls” - she snorted - “and I just hung out at the bar, drinking Long Islands and not brave enough to make eye contact with anyone. And then the bartender started talking to me.”

Suddenly realization dawned on you. You sat up and stared at Abby.

“Wait, Ellie? The short-haired one?”

Abby grimaced.

“Yeah. We talked for a while and I came back the next week with Leah and Jordan. They didn’t even notice I was spending a lot of time at the bar. Ellie and I met for coffee a few days later and I mentioned my dad and she got really quiet and strange. Turns out, she’s related to the guy that murdered my dad, so...”

You were pretty sure your heart stopped for a moment, all the air in your chest building up pressure as you tried to figure out how to breathe out. Abby noticed and gently guided you to lay back down, continuing to weave her fingers into your hair.

“It’s okay, Y/N. I’ll tell you the whole story another time. So yeah, Ellie and I. It was horrible, but we still stayed and talked for a while. She couldn’t tell me a lot about what happened, but she had no idea that I even existed and she was about to have a panic attack over it all. I helped her calm down and then she felt terrible for reacting so badly when it should be me panicking and I just told her that there’s nothing any of us can do now and we should probably leave it at that.” She sighed. “I hadn’t been to The Closet until a few days ago. I only came because I knew you’d be there.”

“Fuck, that’s terrible,” you mumbled. “I don’t think I could have gone back there. I’m still glad you did, though.”

“Me too,” Abby said, her voice gentle and honest. She leaned down to kiss you, deeply and passionately.

You stayed on the sofa for the next few hours, talking about school crushes and gay awakenings, about women constantly hitting on Abby and her being confused for a long time. She told you more about her relationship with Mel and you started to actually resent that woman. Who did she think she was? You told Abby about living with Leah and about your current research projects and she listened intently, asking a lot of questions about the art you were analyzing. You began diving into queer art and Sappho and your theory on the different languages of different social groups. Abby actually gave you some great new ideas and some good questions you couldn’t yet answer and you were actually beginning to look forward to writing tomorrow.

As the clock moved past midnight, it became clear you would have to leave at some point soon. Abby had to get up at 7 in the morning for a 10-hour shift, and you had stifled one too many yawns. You were cuddled up on the couch, kisses interchanging with long, deep conversations and more kisses.

“I can accompany you to the station,” Abby suggested as you looked up the departure times on your phone.

“You don’t have to. That’s sweet of you, but I’ll find the way.” You kissed her for her generosity, but she pulled back.

“Honestly. I don’t want you walking alone. I’ll go with you.” A sheepish smile appeared on her face and she did a tiny bow. “My lady.”

You rolled your eyes and got up, making your way to the entrance hall. Abby gently helped you into your coat and put on a black bomber jacket, a strange but hot combination with her fancy pants. She opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cold night together.

You held hands on the way to the station, stopping at every corner to make out, laughing together, and making plans for your lasagna night. You would come over on Thursday, promising to yourself you would finish all your coursework until then. Manny would come back on Friday, so you’d have the house to yourself again.

You arrived at the station way too soon, but your train was announced to arrive in two minutes. Heavy-hearted, you flung your arms around the tall blonde and she wrapped hers around your waist, lifting you up for another deep kiss.

“I can’t wait to see you again,” she whispered against your lips.

“I’ll even dress up next time,” you mumbled and she grinned at you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt. I’m excited.” Well, now you had to go shopping. Leah would be delighted to go with you.

You pressed a last kiss to Abby’s lips before unwrapping yourself from her arms as the train rolled into the station. As you stepped away, she caught your hand and pulled you back for another one, cheekily running her tongue over your bottom lip. You sighed and kissed her hand, wrapped firmly around yours, before stepping back and boarding the train. You waved at her through the window as you departed and watched her stand on the platform until she was out of sight.

Letting yourself fall into one of the seats, you pulled out your phone and texted your brother.

-We kissed!!!! Call me when you can

Then you texted Leah about shopping tomorrow, just able to send the text before your phone vibrated with a new message.

-You looked beautiful tonight. I’m the luckiest person in the world.

You tried to keep your squeal as quiet as possible. A woman a few seats ahead of you briefly looked up from her phone.

-Can’t believe I have a personal knight who will carry me wherever I want to go

The reply came in seconds.

-Anywhere and anything you want. Text me when you’re home!

-Can I text you before I’m home? I miss you already :(

You had to wait a few minutes before your phone vibrated again. This time, Abby was calling.

“Sorry, I was cleaning up and getting ready for bed.” She sounded a bit breathless.

“No worries,” you said. “What are you wearing for bed?”

Abby let out a surprised laugh.

“Really, now?”

“I’m serious. I want to imagine being with you.”

“Well, I’m wearing a gigantic black t-shirt with a ton of holes and boxers.”

You closed your eyes, envisioning Abby’s thighs straining against the hem of her shorts and the soft cotton of her shirt that you could bury your face in. She would smell like nature and like home somewhere far away.

“I wish I was there.” You noticed you were sounding desperate. Fucking hell, were you about to turn into a 13-year-old? You could hear the smile in Abby’s voice when she spoke.

“I wish you were here with me, too.” She paused for a moment. Then, “Do you want to sleep over on Thursday?”

“Uhm -” you had to think for a second, remembering you only had dinner plans for Friday with your mom. Before you could answer, Abby cut in again

“Fuck, am I rushing you? I didn’t mean - I just thought it would be nice, falling asleep together. But I totally get if that’s -”

“Abby! Of course I want to stay over!” You clenched your free hand into a fist, punching your thigh a few times in order to divert the explosion of energy inside your chest.

“Oh, thank god,” Abby’s shaky laugh was heart-wrenching. “I thought I messed up already.”

You stood up to exit at your station.

“No, not at all. I’d love to fall asleep with you.”

The way to your apartment was over faster than you wanted it to be.

“I’m home now. I think I should hang up, Leah is probably sleeping.”

“Yeah, don’t wake the monster.” Abby chuckled.

“Good night, Abby. Tonight was incredible.”

“Good night, Y/N. You’re incredible. Sleep tight.”

Author's note: Thank you so much for your comments and kudos! If you'd like to support me, you can buy me a coffee here

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #the last of us 2 #tlou abby #abigail anderson #abby fic #abby anderson fluff #abby anderson fanfiction #ellie #ellie tlou #leah tlou #jordan tlou #owen moore #owen x mel #mel tlou #owen tlou #abby x reader #abby anderson x reader

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ohmystars-marvel · 3 years

Text

So...you’re mine, huh? pt. 2

Pairing: Tony Stark x daughter!reader; Peter Parker x reader (eventually)

Word count: 1,798

Summary: When your mother passes, she wrote in her will if she passed when you were still a minor, guardianship would get passed to Tony Stark. You have no idea what their relationship was, despite both of them living their lives in the spotlight. However, for someone who lived in the spotlight, your mother held plenty of secrets.

A/N: So um.....surprise!!! It’s finally here!!!!! I’m sososoSO sorry ;_; life’s been kind of rough and since I’ve been in uni it’s been hard to actually get time for myself, but I’ve finally actually gotten the time to sit down and write it out. I’m sorry it’s not that long, but I promise I won’t ghost like that again, but without further ado, here’s chapter 2!

(Also credits to owner of gif)

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The funeral felt like everything was moving in slow motion. A couple of people came up to talk about (Y/M/N), and Tony noticed how whenever the people at the podium would give you a pitying glance in between their eulogies. The older man that was seating with you earlier isn’t sitting up front with you. He sits in a row behind you, leaving you all by yourself in the front. Tony also noticed how stoic you appeared to look. You sat with your head tall, your hair styled out of your face, tightly and professionally, evenly squared shoulders; the perfect sitting posture.

A couple of people near him whispered about you. Some admired how composed you looked, just like your mother. Some whispered that you looked like you didn’t care that your mother passed, you just cared for the money that you were inheriting. Selfish brat someone whispered around Tony.

She inherits all that her mother worked for without having to put any work ethic in

She isn’t going up to talk at her mother’s funeral?

She does take after her mother after all..couldn’t give a care less that her parents died, why wouldn’t her daughter act the same way now?

In Tony’s opinion, you didn’t look composed and neither looked like you didn’t care. You looked like a kid who was trying to hold it together in a room full of adults in order to be perceived as an adult. A child trying to act far more mature than their actual age.

When the funeral was over, people started getting up to either talk to you, or to talk to others around them. Disgusted with how people talked about you while a funeral was taking place, Tony walked over to talk to you instead. Besides, he felt that he needed to get to the bottom of how the hell (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) had a kid he knew nothing about. He also wanted to figure out whose kid you were. No kid should have to get through their only parent’s funeral alone.

When Tony walked over, you were finishing a conversation with one of the guests. Tony stuck his hand, reaching for a handshake. You accepted his handshake, and surprised him when it was a solid, firm one. Guess (Y/M/N) did teach you well.

“Ms. (Y/L/N). We haven’t had the chance to meet, and I wish it was under better circumstances. I’ve known your mother since we were children, and I know what a devastating loss it is now that she’s gone. I know you’re hearing this phrase more often than you’d like to right now, but please know when I say that if you ever need help, please do come to me. Stark Tower or Avengers Headquarters, you'll be accepted anywhere there.”

“Thank you, Mr. Stark. That’s very kind of you. I as well wish that we could’ve met under better circumstances. You’re kind of my hero, honestly. The advancements you’ve made with arc reactor technology is amazing.” (Y/N) admitted shyly, while sporting a small smile.

Tony analyzed your face. Jesus, it was like Tony was thrown back in time. I looked so much like your mother when she was much younger. That’s where the similarities stopped though. Your shy demeanor and politeness were honest reactions, no acting involved. Your eyes were also different from (Y/M/N)’s. (Y/M/N) looked at everyone like a certain degree of coldness, keeping people at a distance. Yours were gentle, inviting. There’s no way this kid can be hers. She’s nothing like her.

“Mr. Stark,” you interrupted his thoughts, “I’m only telling a select group of people who actually knew my mother well. We told the public the coroners haven’t signed off yet. That, however, isn’t true, and we'll be doing a more private service. I want to give enough time for the press to leave, and for people who my mother claimed that ‘actually cared for her money, not her well-being to leave’. I’d like it if you were to join us.”

“Please, call me Tony. I’ll be there, Ms. (Y/L/N), don’t worry. Gives us all the chance to actually give your mother the goodbye that she deserves, don’t you think?”

You blinked at him, an expression of shock that briefly broke your composure. “Of course, Mr-” she caught herself when Tony smirked at her, and she smiled sheepishly. “sorry. Tony. It’s going to take me awhile. There’ll be an announcement that’ll be given for the burial service so please, stick around and chat. Please excuse me, I’ve got to greet the others who came as well. It was a real pleasure to meet you, Tony.” She bid him a small smile and left him standing by himself.

When you left him, Tony went to grab himself a cup of water. While sipping on his water, the older man that sat next to you before the funeral approached Tony.

“Mr. Stark, it’s a great pleasure to meet you. Though, I wish I would be meeting you right now at something like the Stark Expo.”

Tony didn’t respond, but took another sip to avoid the small talk that the man was trying to achieve. The man cleared his throat.

“Right then. Mr. Stark, I’m Philip Ashcraft, (Y/M/N)’s lawyer. Could we step out in the hallway and talk? (Y/M/N) left something important to you, and the both of us would very much rather have this conversation where someone can’t overhear.”

“You find a hallway during a private funeral? Let me guess, you wanna suggest the coat closet next? I mean I guess we can meet in there, but you have to promise no playing seven minutes of heaven-”

“Mr. Stark, please. It’s of the utmost importance.”

“Why don’t you take this up with my secretary, Mr. Ashcraft? They can schedule a meeting with you within this next week. After all, I am not in the mood to discuss business right now, considering that we’re currently at a funeral.” Tony took a sip of his water, raising an eyebrow at the lawyer.

“This isn’t something that can be pushed away! Mr. Stark, this is in regards to what (Y/M/N) has left for you, and her will states for you to receive her last wishes as soon as the funeral’s over.”

Tony sighed. “In case you haven’t noticed, (Y/M/N)’s funeral is not over. If whatever (Y/M/N) left for me is that important, then you can wait until after the burial service is over. That’s when the funeral is over and that’s when you will have my attention. Until then, kindly fuck off.”

The lawyer swallowed, clearly trying to keep his temper, and walked away, begrudgingly. Victorious, Tony walked away from the water pitcher and found himself an empty corner that no one else would bother him. Besides, he had some homework to start before (Y/M/N)’s burial service started. If he didn’t know anything about (Y/N) (Y/L/N)’s existence, then how much did the rest of the world know about you?

Tony pulled his phone out of pocket, and pulled it close to his face, pretending like he was taking a phone call. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. I need you to do something for me really quick.”

“What do you need, boss?”

“Look for anything in regards to (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I don’t care if it’s newspaper clippings, science fair photos, or even a mugshot. Anything that just proves her existence.”

“Looking online now. I’ll check back in with you when my analysis online is complete.”

“Thanks, F.R.I.D.A.Y.” Tony mumbled to himself. He put his phone back in his pocket and decided to wait out the thirty minutes by himself.

******

Tony watched as time passed and those that were clearly not invited or were exhausted from trying to butt into (Y/N)’s business left the room. Tony saw that besides himself, you, that asswipe of a lawyer, and approximately two other people were invited to the service. He noticed that the one who told him who you were wasn’t included in the group. For some reason, that didn’t sit well with him.

The burial service went by just as smoothly as the service given inside. Tony noticed that when you placed flowers on the headstone, your eyes were glassy. So this was the group you allowed yourself to be vulnerable with, not terribly vulnerable, but enough to know that this clearly affected you. When the service finished, the two others were conversing with you, one holding one of your hands as you wiped your eyes delicately, clearly still trying not to cry. That’s the time that the lawyer decided to act. He put a hand on your shoulder, and whispered something in your ear. You nodded and went back to listening. The lawyer made his way to Tony, and opened his mouth to speak, but Tony beat him to the punch.

“Alright, bug-a-boo, now we can talk.”

“Do you mind if we talk inside, Mr. Stark? I am required to have your signature.”

Tony sighed and made an after you gesture with his hand. “Christ, what is it that (Y/M/N) left behind that is so goddamn important that you have to dump on me at a funeral and require me to sign?”

Ashcraft clenched his jaw, and opened the door to the funeral home and stalked into the room where the public service was held, Tony close behind. Ashcraft unlocked his briefcase, which held an envelope that was thick with papers. He pushed it into Tony’s hand with plenty of force.

“The thing that (Y/M/N) is ‘dumping’ on you is her child. She left guardianship claims on (Y/N) to you, Mr. Stark” Ashcraft said bitterly.

Tony hurried to open the envelope. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way you actually left your kid to him. It’s gotta be some kind of a joke. At least, that was what Tony tried to convince himself before he found a handwritten will that was in your handwriting. The last sentence is what made his heart drop in his chest.

In the case of my passing before (Y/N) can legally care for herself, I leave guardianship rights to Anthony Edward Stark.

Tony’s phone buzzed in his pocket. F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s search had been completed, and only included one document. Tapping on the document, it opened into a scan of your birth certificate. What drew Tony’s attention was the name that was entered for the father’s name. Tony softly scoffed to himself.

“So...you’re mine huh?”

#avengers fanfiction #avengers x reader #tony stark #tony stark x daughter #tony stark x reader #Tony Stark fanfiction #peter parker x stark!daughter #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker

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fancysimpinghere · 3 years

Text

Euphories pt.4 (Sykkuno x reader)

Well, hello everyone! I want to deeply apologize for such a long break in posting there. We all know how hard life can sometimes be. But I arrived with a finish of this story and I hope you will like it! Enjoy!

summary: all good things eventually come to the end and insecurities aren't helping. Adult life is hard, so are decisions. Even if mistakes happen, there would be something to do to fix your frienship. And who knows, maybe things would evolve into something deeper and more advanced than simple relation between friends?

It has been two months since your first encounter with this pretty boy. Luckily, your schedule wasn’t that busy in summer months, so you could visit Thomas in his grandfather’s shop at least twice a week. Your friendship was blossoming, you both surprisingly had a very good contact. When you visited the shop, Thomas usually was waiting for you with one of the magic cassettes, but sometimes he was just showing you around. Actually, you found yourself almost working with him, because you were helping him with unpacking new items, organizing things and cleaning. It was very fun for both of you - you could spend more time together and get to know each other. But you had your own job as well, and summer time was slowly ending. You knew that if you want to keep seeing Thomas, you have to bring your friendship to another level and start to meet up outside. Little did you know that he rarely left shop or house. These places were his comfort zone and You didn't want to push him to do something really demanding. You decided to give him some time to get accustomed to your presence in his life and let Sykkuno make this important step. All you could do then was wait and do your best to gain his trust even more than you had already. When holidays ended, you were sad, because that means less free time - and less time spent with Thomas. But you still came to his shop, even if you were tired or had to sacrifice your sleep time. Sometimes you helped his grandfather with some simple chores, made some cookies for them both or just kept him company - you knew that older people seek attention from others and you couldn't say no to him. But to be honest, it was difficult to bring together your new lifestyle with your old one. Of course you liked Sykkuno, and you felt about him a little different than an ordinary friend - you liked him more and this was also not easy. You were afraid that if he found out about your little secret, it would scare him away and you would lose him as a result. Day by day you were trying to shove your feelings away and focus on helping him, but every moment spent with Thomas started to feel like too much for you. You were worried if he noticed small changes in your behaviour, but he seemed fine. Because of that, you started to lose yourself in work - your amount of free time dropped almost to the bare minimum because of afterhours, and even if you had a free day, you were too tired to visit your friend.

On the other hand, Thomas was internally freaking out. In the end of holidays he started to catch feelings for you, but was too afraid to admit it even to himself. He enjoyed your company a little bit too much, and you started to look better than before in his eyes. But he was sure that you are too good to him and you deserve better than a shy boy with nothing to offer. So he was amazed that you still visited him after your work started and spent your precious time with him. He was absolutely affected by your kindness and willingness to help.

He knew that if he wants to keep you even as a friend, he has to do something. You were his only friend and after these months spent together, he couldn't imagine his life without you. So when you started to visit his shop less often, he felt hopeless. Sykkuno was sure that he bored you out of his life because of his strange addiction to video games and antisocial lifestyle. He didn’t know what to do. His low self-esteem was not helping him with putting his thoughts together. After the first two weeks without your visit to his home or shop, he was devastated. Nothing from his special collection of games and films could make him completely happy anymore, because his thoughts were occupied by you. But one day, when he was organizing his special cassettes, a movie caught his eye. When he read the title, an idea sprung to his mind and he was that desperate for your presence, he almost instantly made a decision.

*********************************************

You started to feel a bit nostalgic when you were looking through the window at falling snowflakes. It was the first snow of the year, so you were also a little bit excited. But when you were sitting in a small cafe in your town, a cup of hot chocolate in front of you, memories slowly creeping from the back of your head. Memories of sad past months, but also of warm and joyful summer. But the most important thought in your mind was the reason for your presence in the cafe. Your fingers unconsciously wandered on the screen of your phone to once again open a message from your friend Thomas. You had strong remorse for leaving him alone and don't contacting him in almost a month. You didn't know what to expect from today's meeting with him, but you were shocked that he invited you to a public place, where there could be a lot of people. Your line of thinking was cut, when small bells over the door frame rang and someone entered the cafe. You guessed it was your company for today - hood covered his head and his face was covered by black mask, but you were sure that this is your friend, whom you haven't seen for almost 2 long months. You noticed his lack of gloves - his hands were red from the cold temperature outside. He still got snowflakes on his massive hoodie, but they were melting away. Even if you felt a little bit awkward, you felt a strange warmth in your chest at the sight of him. You longed to hear his soft voice and laugh, and your heart squeezed just at the thought of it.

He paused for a while to look for you among other people present at the cafe and his gaze finally met yours. He shyly headed towards you and slowly pulled off his hood and mask, so you could recognize him as you haven't done it already. Even from a distance you could say that he was nervous, his hands were making some awkward movements and his eyes shifted from one person to another, like he was expecting somebody to attack him. Finally he was standing right in front of your table and you felt terribly for leaving him with poor excuses about work. He looked bad, just as you - sleepless nights put their marks on your face and you recognized them on his face too. Before he could say anything, you stood up immediately, and reduced the distance between you two. You looked him deep in the eye and hugged him carefully to not scare him. You didn’t care about other people, because you especially chose a more private area of the cafe, in the corner and a massive part of it was covered by plants. You felt Thomas tensing up after you embraced him, but after a few seconds he relaxed and hugged you back.

- "I'm so sorry, Sykkuno." - whisper left your mouth before you could think about forming a more developed sentence, but these words were only one in your mind right now. - "I missed you so much."

At these words he hugged you tighter and you could swear that he smiled like he always did when he was embarrassed.

- "I missed you too." - he whispered back, straight to your ear. You felt butterflies waking up in your stomach at his closeness and blushed a little.

- "It’s nice to- nice to see you, hm." - he stuttered a little and moved his arms away from you, so you did the same. You both sat down and you looked at his face again. Small blush creeped his cheeks, but it could be from the temperature change. - "I was afraid that you wouldn't have time for… For me."

He looked at you like a lost puppy and you felt awful. But before you could say something, he gave you a very warm and wide smile.

-"But you had and I'm happy about it." - he said and started to look for something in his pockets. - "I know that you are a very hard working person and I wanted to thank you for helping me and my grandfather despite this." - it was the longest sentence you ever heard from him, so you were a little bit speechless, but he looked like he wanted to say something more. However, you felt guilty and you had to apologize to him properly.

- "Thomas, I’m sorry. "- you interrupted before he could continue. - "I'm sorry for non contacting you in days and I know it was wrong. I… I can explain why I did this."

- "You don't have to. "- He answered and his search finished with success, because he placed down something rectangular on the table. - "I asked you for a meeting, because I realized something during the past months. And I can't keep this a secret any more."

He was looking even more nervous now. He hid his hands in the sleeves of his hoodie, because they were trembling a little. You also noticed that his face is clearly and non deniable red almost like a tomato, and he was a little bit hesitant when speaking. You decided to not interrupt him this time, and you also felt nervous. He looked at the window to search for the right words or find the courage, you assumed. But then he suddenly returned his gaze to you.

- "What is it, Thomas?" - you asked softly to encourage him to share his thoughts with you. You decided to use his real name to show you are taking him seriously. Deep in your heart you felt a little spark of hope, but you didn't want to make expectations and then be dissapointed. You watched his movements carefully, your eyes dropping to the item lying before him, and you finally recognized the thing. It was a cassette thanks to which you could know him. Your mouth opened in surprise and when he noticed that, he smiled coyly, but stress was still recognizable on his face.

- "I wanted to tell you for a long time, but… I… I couldn’t find the courage. But now, I decided that I have to do this." - words left his mouth faster than usual, and his eyes nervously watched your reaction. He sighed and blinked a few times. -" You are my best friend, my only friend, but I realized I like you a lot more than that."

You were completely speechless. You didn't even imagine this scenario - it was too perfect to be real, but there you are. Your mind exploded with a sudden wave of joy and happiness, because the dearest person you know just admitted to liking you back. You smiled sincerely to him and he had to notice a spark of joy in your gaze, because he stopped talking and just watched you with his big eyes.

- "Thomas, I like you too. "- you said in answer, honestly looking into his eyes. -" I didn’t know how to tell you, so I distanced myself fro you, because I didn’t want to scare you or… "- you didn’t finish and all of sudden felt embarrassed for your lack of initiative.

- "I thought it would be nice to talk about it in the place where our friendship started. "- he said slowly and carefully moved the cassette on the table towards you. He looked down for a second, then returned your gaze. He looked more determined than before and smiled at you once again. You could look at his smile forever - there was nothing more cuter than his expressions.

- "So…Would you like to accompany me on this journey?" - he asked softly and pulled out his hand to you from the sleeve. He watched your reaction carefully.

- "Yes, I definitely would." - You giggled and blushed a little, but gently grabbed his hand and intertwined your fingers with his.

He tightened his grip on your hand and you both touched the cassette with your other hands. The world started to spin, and even when you started falling down, all you could feel in this moment was falling in love with this cute, lovely boy, soon to be your boyfriend, who held your hand like his life depended on it and laughed at the strange sensation. You couldn't help and joined him, looking forward to experiencing the best adventure - and you were certain that it would be the best, because you had the greatest companion in the whole world.

~fin~

#sykkuno x y/n #sykkuno #sykkuno x reader #sykkuno imagines #y/n imagine #imagines #fanfiction #x reader #reader #y/n #euphories #games #videoclub #y/n x character #y/n imagines #y/n insert #corpse husband

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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

Text

Burn - Henry Cavill smut

The one where Henry’s blindfolded.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: p in v, oral (f and m), curse words, one mention of daddy! kink, unprotected sex (I don’t recommend it), restraints and blindfolds. Also, the reader is trying to be a dom in this one, but she’s pretty soft.

A/N: day 11 of kinktober and the prompts were blindfold + “Hold it”. Once again, the smut is coming without revision and I’m still taking up friendship applications and beta applications which may or may not coincide. Hope you like this one, because I’m feeling dead inside.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Rationally, I knew it was stupid to feel this way. I knew what I was getting into when I agreed to a date with Henry, but the truth was, nothing could have prepared me to what it would feel like to see him kissing someone else, having to sell that he was in love with another woman because that was a part of what he did to make a living.

But I had the best boyfriend, and he seemed to know exactly what I needed to feel better about the entire situation.

“How are you feeling, baby?” I asked as I slowly grinded against his belly muscles, appreciating the view of my very strong boyfriend stripped naked, blindfolded and handcuffed to the bed.

“I-I’m okay,” he answered in the form of a whisper, almost like he was afraid to break the sexual atmosphere of the room, but I pouted. That wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear. It made me feel like I wasn’t doing my job right.

“Only okay?” I had to clarify, running one of my fingers over his bottom lip, before pulling it down and biting it until I heard him gasp. “You’re breaking my heart, honey. Would you prefer if it was Keyra doing this with you?”

The reaction was immediate. His body tensed up, and by the abrupt movement of his arms, I could see he had tried to move them to hold me, but the restraints made it impossible for him to do so.

“No, darling. Absolutely not. You’re the only one I want like this, the only one I trust enough to share this experience with.” I melted. Who wouldn’t, after such a declaration from the man you love?

“I know, baby,” I calmed him, leaning down to press a quick kiss on his lips, watching in amusement as he tried to follow me in the hopes of deepening it. “I’m only messing with you.” I resumed the movements over his abs, needing to feel a little bit more friction on my clit. His answering groan warned me of how truly pained he was feeling at the whole situation.

“Not being able to see you grinding against my chest is the most terrible punishment you could administer.” I had to giggle at his dramatics. Only my bear of a boyfriend would feel so terrible at having his girlfriend controlling his pleasure for once.

“Well, maybe this way you can understand how I feel everytime you film a love scene with another person.” He sucked in a breath, immediately shutting up, and I almost felt bad about my honest remark, but I decided he was mature enough to be able to suck it up. He was the one to suggest our current activity, after all.

“You know what? I don’t see why your punishment should be mine, too. I wanna cum, and you’re gonna make me cum.” I climbed over his body until my legs were on each side of his face, and I tried to ignore the cheshire cat smile Henry was trying very hard to suppress at the prospect of eating me out. “You remember what you have to do when you need to come up for air? Ok.”

After making sure he was reminded of the safe gesture we had anticipated for this kind of activity (a bite on my inner thigh), I lowered myself to meet his waiting tongue, that stood perfectly pointed up at me.

“Fuck,” I immediately breathed out, as always pleasantly surprised at just how incredible Henry was at eating pussy. He treated it like some sort of exotic, delicious dish, and he loved how wet he could make me get just so there was more for him to taste. “You’re too good at this,” I jested, wrapping my fingers around his curls, taking advantage of the fact that he had allowed his hair to get longer for this last role. I loved it like this, I loved being able to use it to try to control his movements.

But tonight, I didn’t have to try. I was the one in control.

I rode Henry’s face slowly, still too self-aware in this position, but the second his lips wrapped around my clit, I was a goner. Gripping the headboard in front of me, I let myself sit more comfortably in his face, trusting in his use of the safety measure if it was necessary, and I relaxed, enjoying the filthy symphony that my moans and his slurping sounds created in our bedroom.

As my high approached, he must have sensed it, because his licking became more feral, growls escaping his lips and reverberating against me as I started to fully grind my pussy against his face, crying out every time I bumped on his nose.

And then, I flooded his lips with my essence, temporarily blacking out before scrambling to get out of his face, so he could properly breathe again. I felt like my heart was fluttering at the sight of his perfect lips arranged in a full-on pout.

“You didn’t let me enjoy my meal properly!”

“You’re not supposed to enjoy this at all, remember?” He still looked like I had deeply hurt him, so I leaned down to properly kiss him for the first time that night. Henry moaned against my lips when I deepened our kiss, allowing his tongue to dance with mine as I appreciated my own taste. When we separated again, I was slightly out of breath and his lips were a shade of pink that denounced just how roughly we’d been kissing.

“Didn’t take you for having an asphyxiation kink,” I whispered against his lips, making him smile. “Now, I think it’s about time I take care of you, huh? Let me help you.” Henry didn’t say anything to that, knowing a trap when he heard one. In fact, I could see that he was holding his breath, as I made my way down his body, until I was staring at his perfect cock. The second I wrapped my hand around it, a deep, guttural groan escaped from Henry’s chest.

“Well, someone’s been feeling deprived.” I smiled at my boyfriends chuckle, knowing that was the very idea of the exercise we were currently partaking in, only now it was time for the real torture. Slowly, I licked a strip from the base of his cock until his leaking head, allowing myself to shallowly suck the precum there before immediately releasing his member.

“You do taste wonderfully,” I teased, licking my own lips to chase the remnants of his taste. My only response was another groan, this one more tortured than the last. “And we’re only getting started, baby.”

I leaned down to wrap my lips around his dick once more, this time going further down after spending a few minutes sucking on the head of his member. Each new inch I uncovered had me retreating until only the head was between my lips, until I was bobbing my head and sucking the life out of him.

Henry’s P.O.V.

Going from practically no stimulation to the best blowjob of my life was making me feral with the intensity of the reactions she provoked on my body. My heartbeat had accelerated to a point not even running could achieve, and I swear that if I was standing, my knees would have given out on me.

Within minutes, I could feel my sack weighing heavier, signaling a fast approaching release I knew she wouldn’t grant me. Still, I allowed myself to entertain the idea of cumming on her perfect mouth, filling her up with my seed and hearing her satisfied little moan at my taste on her tongue.

“Hold it.” Two words, and yet the effect was instantaneous, if only because at the sight of me fighting against my restraints as my orgasm approached, she immediately retreated until only her fist remained on my erection, massaging it just enough to keep it alive.

The slow, shallow movements were worse than nothing at all, somehow. I couldn’t keep the disappointed groan that made her laugh from showing just how devastated I truly was, but her answering laugh came with the feeling of her warm cunt rubbing against the blunt head of my cock, so I felt like a reward was on the horizon for me.

“Do you miss this?” I knew what she was referring to, and I also knew the answer without even needing to think about it. There were few things I loved in life more than being inside of her, and in that moment, I couldn’t remember any of them.

“Madly.” She chuckled at my answer, and I could perfectly imagine her shaking her head at me, a cute little smile on her face as she averted her gaze, still incapable of accepting just how much I truly loved and desired her.

“How is it that you always know just what to say?” It was my turn to chuckle, but it turned into a hiss as she calmly positioned my cock over her hole and leisurely sat down on it, like it was no big deal at all.

I knew better, however. It was in the way her nails bit on my navel as the muscles in her thighs struggled to accept the tempo of the movement she was performing. I knew she was relishing in the burn of my member stretching her, like it always did anytime I penetrated her, no matter how thoroughly I fucked her nightly. She always struggled to take me in, and I can’t say it wasn’t a huge ego booster.

“Tell me what you want,” she ordered, and I licked my lips at the prospect of finally getting my way.

“I want to fill that perfect little pussy until it’s dripping out of you, even with my cock still buried in there.” I didn’t have to see to know that she shivered at my words. I could feel it through the connection between our bodies, and I took devious delight in it.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Well, I couldn’t say that he didn’t earn it. Just his words were enough to get me hornier than I’d ever been before I met Henry, and my hips moved on their own accord, until I was riding him with an ardor I hadn’t known I was capable of feeling. I didn’t even know I had the muscle strength to express it.

Nonetheless, we’re capable of a lot when we’re thrown in the fits of passion, I’d come to learn. And for Henry, I was pretty much down to do anything. So I just accepted the burst of energy and held on his chest for the ride, taking the opportunity to oggle my boyfriend freely even though I could see his beautiful eyes staring back at me.

He still looked perfect, and absolutely ruined, his mouth open in a silent O as he panted and tried to thrust up against me as I fucked myself on his cock, but his desperation didn’t allow him to match our tempos.

I still knew just how to make him cum with me, though.

Planting my knees on the mattress more firmly, I leaned over him to change the angle he was hitting inside of me, making sure the head of his cock was pounding against my sweet spot each time he was snuggled deep inside of me. And then, I threw myself back at his member furiously, determined to reach my own high and bring him with me.

“Come on, honey, didn’t you say you wanted to fill me up? Here’s your chance. Fill me up, daddy. I wanna have your cum dripping out of me, making a mess on our bed. Please, cum inside of me. Please, please, please.” Each word that came out of my lips was accompanied by a jolt of my hips, and soon enough, Henry’s cock was twitching inside of me just when I, too, reached that euphoric high.

I’d barely caught my breath and he was already struggling against the restraints, wordlessly begging me to release him, and I had to roll my eyes at his antics. “There you go, was that really so hard?” I asked after I’d freed him from the handcuffs and he immediately took off the blindfold, his hands coming up to squeeze a breast before rubbing all over my body, like he was trying to make up for lost time.

“Darling, I think you know better than anyone just how hard I was.” I had to laugh, thankful to have his hands on me again after, in reality, depriving myself of his touch, but he really wasn’t wrong in what he was saying.

“Oh, yeah, I can attest to that. Specially since you’re still pretty hard inside of me.” Before I could understand what was happening, he had rolled us over until he was the one hovering over me, his cock still nested deep inside my pussy.

“And I know just the way to solve that problem.”

#henry cavill #smut #henry cavill smut #my fics #kinktober #kinktober 2020 #henry cavill reader #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill imagines #henry cavill writing #henry cavill writings #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill fanfiction

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asweetprologue · 4 years

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window to the soul

Octoberfest 3: ghost (from geraskier hollow) + stare

“It’s drawn to strong emotions,” Geralt said, and Jaskier knew that he was about to become bait.

The monster of the week was a wraith, but of an unusual type. Over the years of traveling together, Jaskier had seen plenty of wraiths - noonwraiths, nightwraiths, even a plague maiden once. He probably could take one on himself, knowing what he did about the process of destroying them, though it would be difficult without the use of yrden holding them in the physical realm. Luckily it was Geralt’s job to dispatch them. Jaskier usually didn’t even go along to watch anymore, unless the story behind the haunting was particularly ballad worthy.

This time, the wraith was different. Geralt had quickly identified the lost soul, a young woman who had recently died. She’d been deeply in love with a merchant that had regularly come and gone from the town, and had tried to cast a spell to trap his heart. Jaskier knew, after everything with Geralt and the djinn, that there was no curse or potion that could truly emulate love. Her spell had made the merchant obsessed with her, the man driven slowly mad by a fixation that he did not want and could not escape. In the end he had killed the girl and then himself, to escape from the madness that she had struck into his mind. The strength of her grief and the magic of the binding spell had changed the spirit of the woman into something else entirely, something extremely dangerous.

“It’s a sort of hybrid between a vampire and a wraith,” he explained. They were in the field beyond the village, and Geralt was meticulously checking over his potions. His blades were laid off to the side, the slick oil that he used to slay spectres shining across his silver blade. It was nearing sunset, the twilight hour that made it easier for apparitions to make themselves seen in the material world. Jaskier was sitting across from him, nervously stripping leaves from a small twig. Geralt continued. “The emotion she felt and her unrequited love turned her into a heartwraith. Sometimes people call them ‘hungry ghosts.’ They’re never satisfied, and they feed off of people’s emotions to try and fill the void in them.”

“Sounds like a truly awful existence,” Jaskier mused, watching Geralt. The evening light played across his broad shoulders, turning his hair from silver to gold. Jaskier thought he might be able to understand where she was coming from, even if he’d never have tried to bind Geralt to him unwillingly. It was a terrible thing, to be so deeply and unfortunately in love with someone who didn’t want you.

“I need to draw her out,” Geralt said gruffly. “She’s seeking out powerful emotions, like the couple that were attacked and the man who was beating his wife. I’ll need your help.” Jaskier sighed. Of course, it didn’t make much sense for Geralt to try to draw her out. Though Jaskier didn’t subscribe to the notion that witchers felt less than regular humans, Geralt was what Jaskier would dub repressed. The man couldn’t look an honest emotional conversation in the face without getting flustered and running away.

“Whatever you need,” Jaskier said, like he always did. He didn’t love playing bait, but he knew Geralt would never let anything bad happen to him.

Geralt nodded and picked up his silver sword, his steel one still securely in its sheath on his back. “Come on. We need to build a fire to destroy her locket.” The girl had kept a locket with a small lock of the merchant’s hair inside, which Geralt had guessed helped tie her to this plane. Over the next few minutes, the two men built a small pyre. Geralt pressed the locket into Jaskier’s palm, his fingers brushing over Jaskier’s skin. He tried not to blush at the contact.

“When she’s distracted, throw this into the fire. It’ll weaken her,” Geralt said. Jaskier nodded mutely, clutching the warm metal close. The fire crackled merrily beside them, painting the landscape around them in swatches of ocher and dark blue. It was truly approaching night now, only the barest hint of sunlight still left on the far horizon.

“What do you need me to do?” Jaskier asked. “To get her attention, I mean.”

Geralt gave him an odd look. “Nothing. I’m going to draw her in.” Geralt’s face was pinched in a way that Jaskier had come to realize meant he was experiencing some kind of emotion, though it was always hard to tell which one. Anger, frustration, sadness and pain all translated into relatively the same expression - tight jaw, drawn eyebrows, thinned lips. Jaskier wanted to reach out and sooth the tension from his friend’s features, but luckily the locket demanded his hands’ wandering attention. Geralt gestured to the soft earth beside the fire, clearly bidding Jaskier to sit. He did so, flopping gracelessly into a crossed legged position, back straight from tension. It was hard to forget that a wraith could appear any moment to wreck the quiet evening.

Geralt settled next to him, dropping into the kneeling position that he favored for meditation. His eyes were grave as he looked over Jaskier’s face. “Just… sit still,” he said softly. Jaskier wasn’t sure what to do with that tone, so he just tried to do as Geralt asked. He settled in, waiting for something to happen, but Geralt just stared at him.

For a moment it was awkward. Jaskier felt a blush spread across his cheeks as those golden eyes regarded him, sweeping over his face and following the line of his neck. Geralt was a man who always split his attention half a dozen ways at once, one eye always on the door and an ear out for trouble. Jaskier had accepted long ago that Geralt never fully listened to him, and that was alright. It wasn’t in his nature, and Jaskier didn’t need participation to hold a conversation. Now, though, he felt the full force of Geralt’s focus on him, looking back at him as if trying to see beyond a mask. Geralt’s own face was impassive, that slight frown still marring his features.

What could he hope to accomplish through this? If he wanted to elicit strong emotions, there were certainly easier ways to do it than a staring contest. Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever elicited strong emotions in anyone that he wasn’t actively singing to. It was he who was often overtaken by the whims of his own heart, prone to fits of temper and weeks of lovesickness by turn. Geralt never seemed to feel anything other than mild annoyance. Gods, what if Jaskier annoyed him so much that just looking at him made the witcher angry enough to summon a spectre? Jaskier knew he could be infuriating, but surely if Geralt detested him that much he would just leave Jaskier behind. Right?

Anxiety filled his chest, but he’d been instructed specifically not to move. Forcing himself to relax, Jaskier found himself taking the opportunity to just look back for once, something he so rarely had a chance to do. He absorbed all the details of Geralt’s face that he never allowed himself to - the way Geralt’s left eyebrow was ever so slightly interrupted by a tiny scar, the slight wrinkles on his forehead from years of frowning and the even fainter ones around his eyes, the ever so slight part of his lips. The dramatic light of the fire and the moon overhead made his face into a patchwork landscape of color, the valley of purple shadow in the hollow of his cheek highlighted by soft gold. Jaskier committed every feature to memory, thinking of the notebooks he could fill with songs dedicated to Geralt’s eyes and lips and brilliant white hair. He loved him so much it felt like it was going to drown him, leaving no room in his chest for his lungs.

After he’d finally taken in all the abstract elements of Geralt’s face that he could in the low light, Jaskier’s eyes dragged back to meet Geralt’s. The gold of his irises were nearly consumed by dark pupil, his eyes expanding to take in as much light as possible in the darkness. In this lighting he looked both more and less human, and it made Jaskier feel helplessly fond. Their eyes met, and suddenly the situation struck Jaskier as a bit funny. Two men sitting in a field, silently staring at each other, one pining away like nothing else while the other tried to summon a ghost. It was ridiculous. He quirked a playful eyebrow at Geralt, as if to say, Aren’t we just a couple of fools?

Jaskier watched Geralt’s face shift, a second of surprise flitting across his face. And then, without warning, there was something new there, something Jaskier didn’t think he’d ever seen before. A softening in Geralt’s eyes, in his brow, as he looked at Jaskier, open and affectionate. The expression hit Jaskier like a punch, or a kiss, demanding and devastating. Geralt’s mouth opened on a low exhale, and Jaskier leaned forward, wondering if he dared, if Geralt might -

There was a screech, and the wraith was upon them.

Geralt was up in an instant, silver sword flashing as he blocked a clawed hand from coming down on Jaskier’s head. Jaskier yelped as he scurried out of the way, clutching the locket he’d almost forgotten. There was a sudden burst of purple light in the field, making the shadows around them dance and twist eerily. The wraith made a horrible noise, like flint scraping across metal, endless and clearly annoyed. Geralt pushed her against the wall of the magical trap, cutting off bits of wispy energy with his sword.

Jaskier wasn’t sure when the exact right time was, but the wraith was certainly distracted. Jumping forward, he tossed the locket down into the fire, watching as the clasp popped open and the little lock of hair fell into the embers. It caught quickly, and Jaskier heard the wraith shriek again, this time a haunting and mournful sound. When he turned back it was just in time to see Geralt shove his sword in her chest. The strange, cottony fabric of her ragged dress seemed to dissipate in the wind, her dry flesh cracking and falling away like old paint. After a moment there was nothing left but a pile of ash.

“Go in peace,” Geralt said, and turned to Jaskier. Dropping to one knee, he said, “Are you hurt?”

Jaskier pushed himself into a better sitting position. They were close, too close. He hoped the warmth of the fire would mask his blush. “I’m fine, thanks to you. Is she really gone?”

Geralt nodded. “Should be. She has no tether to this world anymore without the locket.”

“Right,” Jaskier said. He paused. “So. Um. What you did there seemed to work, at least.”

Geralt leaned back away, out of Jaskier’s space. He missed the proximity immediately. “I wouldn’t have exposed you if I could think of another way.”

“Well, it’s not easy to find someone as irritating as me on such short notice,” Jaskier said nervously. “Hardly efficient.”

Geralt gave an almost comical shake of his head, surprise slapped across his features. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Jaskier shifted, uncomfortable. Giving a forced laugh, he said, “Well, I can only imagine that you were conjuring up strong emotions of the, ah, annoyance you so often display when I do something like, I don’t know, sing or eat or breathe. I know you’re not so easily swayed by my charms.” He tried to pass it off like a joke, but he knew it fell flat even as he was saying it. There was too much hurt in his throat to make it come out anything less than bitter. He stared into the fire, watching the locket turn a liquid red from the heat.

A warm hand suddenly came up to cradle his jaw, and Jaskier blinked in surprise as Geralt’s fingers urged him to look up. “It’s not that,” Geralt said forcefully. “You must know, Jaskier, you have to - When I look at you, it’s so...” He cut himself off with a frustrated sound. Words had never been his strength. “I feel many things for you, bard.”

Jaskier swallowed. “You do?”

Geralt’s eyes were hot on him, and Jaskier wondered if one could be branded by a glance. It certainly felt like it. “Yes,” Geralt said. “Intensely.”

“Oh,” Jaskier stammered. “Um. I’m not sure if I’m reading all this right, but assuming that you’re saying you don’t hate me, then, ah -”

Geralt gave an annoyed huff, and Jaskier was just about to comment, say something like, see, I am irritating, but then Geralt was kissing him, and he decided to let it go. He leaned into the press of lips, gasping softly. It was brief, nearly over before it began, but Jaskier could feel the warmth of it after Geralt pulled away, breath ghosting over his skin. Jaskier shivered.

“Quite the opposite,” Geralt said softly. His eyes were molten gold, hotter than the locket still melting in the fire at Jaskier’s side, and Jaskier never wanted to look away.

“Oh, well, that’s a relief,” he said, and leaned up to kiss him again.

this fic was heavily inspired by Somedrunkpirate’s piece A Lover’s Lament, which is one of my favorite stories of all time. If you read it you’ll be able to see exactly what scene I borrowed from, and I need you to know that it lives in my head rent free.

edit: for some reason tumblr ate everything but the heading for this fic and I didn’t realize until this morning, so thanks to the ten people who liked it with no content LMAO. yall the real

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