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#but I decided I might as well draw the other side of the conversation.
starzovermarz · 5 months
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Some Spidey + DP doodles :]
and also Tracer.
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harryspet · 4 months
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bambi eyes (5) r. cameron
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[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, obx special guest appearances, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
A/N: Will tag people later, for now I must sleep :) Enjoy!
word count: 3.9k
In which Rafe loosens his leash, but actions come with consequences.
Rafe told you to get dressed and to wait at the front of the house. Truthfully, you liked it better when Rafe picked out your outfits. That way, you knew exactly what looked good on you and that you wouldn’t make some kind of fashion faux pas. You decided on a pink fitted top, a matching skirt, and an adorable pair of brown boots Rafe bought you for Christmas. You completed your look with a bow at the top of your hair and an array of colorful bracelets you put on each arm. 
You spent a while watching men in dark clothes walk the perimeter of the yard and through the forest on the sides of the property. At first, you were quite scared to see them, but Rafe explained that they worked for him. This led you to ask even more questions. Weren’t they cold out there? We should offer them some snacks? Could I make them cookies? Rafe shut down your curiosity quickly, emphasizing that you were not to say a word to any of them. 
When the door to the enclosed porch opened, you expected to see Rafe. You closed your drawing book and turned your head to greet him. Instead, Rafe’s friend Barry greeted you. You’d heard them going back and forth all morning, usually, their conversations were tense, but you assumed they must’ve come to some type of agreement. At the sight of you, he smiled, flashing his gold tooth. 
“Country Club’s little princess,” He sang, “How are you, baby?”
You smiled nervously, still not super used to being around others. It had been a few months now since Rafe brought you to Tannyhill and almost all of your social interaction had been with Rafe and Lana. 
“I’m good, I . . . how are you?”
He walked in front of you, his hands behind his back as he looked you over, “Oh I’m just peachy. Whatchu got there?” 
You glanced back towards the door, wondering if Rafe was far behind him. Looking back down at your lap, you said, “I was just drawing a little bit. Rafe told me to wait here–”
“Drawing, huh? You an artist?” Your eyes tilted back up to him. 
“Not an artist,” You said quickly, “I just like to . . .”
“What kind of stuff do you draw?” He asked, and you sensed sincerity in his tone, “You know, I used to draw a lot when I was in school. Nothing serious, but I couldn’t help it; my mind would just wander, and then my paper would have a bunch of doodles on it.”
He kneeled down in front of you, and you hesitated for a moment before you opened the book. You showed him your page of doodles. You drew a lot of what you saw, including doodles of Rafe, and things you saw around Tannyhill, “That’s Lana, ain’t it?” You nodded, “Impressive. Most people ain’t good at drawing faces. Not you though.”
“Thank you,” You said, “You don’t draw anymore?”
He shook his head, “Not very often. I should.”
You agreed, “You should. Sometimes, Rafe will draw with me. Well, mainly we’ll color together. He likes it when there’s already a picture, so he doesn’t have to come up with it himself.”
“He’s pretty bad at it, anyways, ain’t he?” Unexpectedly, a giggle left your lips, and you raised your book to cover the bottom of your face. 
“I should go look for him–” You made a move to escape, but Barry placed both his hands on the arms of your chair, effectively trapping you. 
Barry hadn’t touched you, but you felt you might get in trouble just for laughing at his joke, “You don’t like my company or something?” You shook your head immediately. 
“Sorry, that’s not what I meant . . .” 
“You’re sweet; I can see why he likes you,” Barry held his eyes on you and you felt the skin on your face heat up with embarrassment, “You know, you ever get tired of him, or he pisses you off – which he will, then you can call me. We can run away together.”
Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t have a phone.”
Barry smirked at that, “Ask anyone on this island who Barry is, and they’ll point you in the right direction.”
Running away with Barry was the last thing you wanted to do. Rafe had his bad days but you hadn’t considered trying to leave. Barry also barely knew you but you decided to think positively. Afterall, Rafe trusted Barry. You assumed his intentions must be good, “Okay,” You agreed, “When you come back next, maybe you can show me some of your drawings.”
“You want to see them. Really?”
“Yes,” You said, “It’s only fair.”
Barry nodded, “You make a good point. I gotta come back soon and try more of your desserts. That cake you made … I ain’t tasted nothing better.”
“You have to,” You rushed out excitedly, “Rafe and Lana say everything I make is great, I can’t tell if they’re honest.”
“I’m as honest as they come, sweetheart,” You grinned at that, “A good friend is honest.”
“You want to be my friend?”
“I mean, only if you want me to.”
“I do.”
“Don’t tell Rafe though–”
Your conversation was interrupted when the poor door opened, and Rafe appeared, “Don’t tell Rafe what?” His gaze was sharp, and luckily, it was mostly directed at Barry. You watched as Barry stood and stepped back from you. 
“Nothing man, we were just talking about about Kildare. You’re going to let me help show her around, right?”
Rafe’s brooding look turned to amusement, “She’s not gonna step foot on your side of the island. Thanks for the offer though.” 
There was an awkward silence, and you felt some tension building until Barry finally said, “Alright, I’ll see you soon, Bambi,” You waved as he turned on his heel, “Rafe.”
Rafe watched as Barry walked out the front door before he held out his hand, summoning you. You hurried from your chair, moving in closer before you grabbed ahold of his hand. It was his cue to you that he would be leading you somewhere, and you were expected to follow. 
“He touch you?” Rafe asked, leading you out the same door. You watched as Barry pulled around the horseshoe driveway in his sports car. He walked you to his large truck, opening the passenger door, “Bambi.”
“Uh …no,” You stared. 
Suddenly, you were the furthest from Tannyhill’s front door than you’d ever been. 
“Good, get in, Bambi.”
“I’m leaving . . . you’re leaving with me in the car? Your car? Right now? Today?” 
“Yeah,” He said, unsure of himself, “Get in; I’m already starting to change my mind.”
You jumped in excitement, “Really? Where are we going?” Rafe helped you as you started to climb in. He leaned over you, fastening your seatbelt for you, “You aren’t taking me back, right?”
“No, sweet girl,” Rafe assured you, “As far as where we’re going, it’s a surprise.” 
You couldn’t contain your excitement as you settled into your seat. As you pulled past the gates at the end of the long driveway and onto the road, you couldn’t help but feel like all your faith in Rafe had paid off. 
“Who’s that, Daddy?” You asked, noticing a black car that had also pulled out of Tannyhill and was following closely behind. 
“No one, Bambi,” He brushed your question off, “So, uh, what were you two talking about? You and Barry?”
Your eyes were focused on the huge trees that hung over the road, beautifully dripping green moss from it’s branches. Between the trees, you saw huge mansions with big gates and long drives just like Tannyhill. 
“Drawing,” You said briefly, “He said he would show me some of his work.”
“He’s full of shit.”
You turned to Rafe who was gripping the wheel with one hand, “Daddy … I don’t like it when you curse.”
“Bambi, I–” He held his tongue, sighing before he reached over to place his other hand on your thigh, “I’m sorry, sometimes work makes me lose focus. What I mean is that Barry is my friend but … he likes to mess with me, you know? So he might say something to you knowing that it would bother me.”
“He seemed like he meant it,” You said, “Would it bother you if we were friends?”
“Guys and girls can’t really be friends,” Rafe explained, “Especially not with little girls like you, okay?”
“But why–”
“Because I’m telling you right now. I appreciate that you are kind to Barry but he wouldn’t be a good friend to you. If I’m going to protect you, and as your Daddy, I should have a say in who your friends are.”
You opened your mouth to argue but quickly shut it. It didn’t make much sense to you why men and women couldn’t be friends. Why would Barry offer to be your friend if it wasn’t appropriate? You supposed that you never had any male friends before, and most men you’d been around wanted a similar thing from you, “Maybe you’re right, Daddy.”
You drove over bridges with water on both sides of the road and through more neighborhoods with huge houses. Fifteen minutes into your drive, you arrived at an area with a grocery store and lots of stores that you assumed were also for shopping. 
Rafe pulled his truck in front of one of the storefronts. You unbuckled your seatbelt, sitting up further in your seat so you could read the sign, “Fig . . uuure eight …ball …it.”
“Ballet,” Rafe corrected you, “Figure eight Ballet Company.”
Confusion spread over your features, “I looked into it; they have adult classes for beginners. I thought it might be something fun for you to do once a week.”
“Me?” You pointed to your chest, “Dance classes?”
“If you don’t want to, that’s okay,” Rafe rushed out, “It’s good exercise, and you can also do it at home. And it’s a chance to meet friends, friends that are girls, preferably.” 
“Oh,” When you looked at Rafe, it seemed like he was desperately trying to read your expression, “I’d be so nervous. And I wouldn’t be good at it.”
“I think people just do it for fun and to learn something new. And I wouldn’t just leave; I would walk you in and pick you up. Not today; I just wanted to take you by and see what you thought.”
“... It could be really fun …”
“And you’d make quite the adorable ballerina.”
“Maybe I could try one class . . . and if I liked it, you would take me every week?”
“Every week, as long as you continue to be a good girl,” Your nervousness started to melt away into excitement the longer you thought about it, “And while we’re out, I thought we could do some shopping. My research has informed me you’re going to need shoes, tights, a leotard, and a skirt.”
You practically leaped over the center console to hug him, “Thank you, thank you, thank you, Daddy!”
Rafe pulled you in close, “Anything for you, sweet girl.”
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Rafe didn’t need to get his hands dirty anymore; he could hire people to protect him or kill for him. As he settled into his new life with you, he started to miss some of the adventures he experienced in his early 20s and late teens. There were no more brawls or treasures to steal. He hadn’t realized he needed an outlet for the negative energy that seemed to boil up inside of him sometimes. Now, what he knew is that he needed to keep that side of him as far away from you as possible. 
Killing JJ would’ve satisfied that part of him that has been begging to come out of him for years. He would’ve felt a rush like no other, power and control that he hadn’t felt in so long. He hadn’t brought himself to do it yet, teetering on that line between sanity and insanity. The Pogue was always a good competitor, and Rafe wasn’t surprised that he was still fighting. Rafe liked that about JJ. 
Still, Rafe wanted to see him break, and he was patient enough to wait for it. 
“What would you do to see her again?” Rafe asked as he kneeled over JJ’s bruised and battered body. 
The pogue coughed, and blood-spattered on the boat cabin’s floor. 
The silent treatment followed, but Rafe was used to talking to himself, “I know she’s not over you, but how long do you think she’ll wait before she moves on? Six months? A year? I mean, she’s a wild one; I’m sure she won’t want to stick around this place for much longer.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” JJ’s favorite words. 
“Maybe you just don’t love her like I thought you did,” Rafe taunted, “I mean if you did, you’d be groveling at my feet, right?”
JJ’s eyes pinched tight as Rafe’s words sounded like nails on a chalkboard. 
The silent treatment followed again, and Rafe considered what his next steps might be. Removing limbs? That could be fun for a while, but if he hadn’t surrendered at this point, what would make him crack? 
“Fine,” Rafe looked down at his bloody knuckles, “I won’t bother you anymore today, but I do have something I want you to contemplate in your hours of silence. Consider the idea that I let you go, and you see Kie again instead of bleeding out here and your body being chopped into pieces. I want you to think, and I mean really think, about what you might do to make that happen. And don’t think of it as sacrificing your morals or making a deal with the devil … think of it as securing your future, okay?”
Rafe tapped his hand against JJ’s sore cheek before he stood and left. He heard no quippy comeback from the Pogue. At least Rafe had successfully beat that out of him. 
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Rafe’s eyes snapped open and was awakened from his sleep when he felt a soft finger poking at his cheek, “Wha…” Groggily, he reached to turn on his bedside lamp and found you, dressed in a onesie that made you look like a brown bear,  standing beside his bed, a sniffling mess, “Hey, w-what’s wrong?”
Immediately, Rafe reached out to grab you, and you proceeded to climb onto his large bed, “I-I had a scary dream,” You hiccuped, “Y-You sent me away a-and I was alone again and Master he was so mad at me b-because I-I didn’t make you h-happy–”
Rafe shushed you, pulling you into him, “It wasn’t real, okay? Look, you’re here with me right now.” 
“It felt real,” You whimpered, and Rafe’s lips pulled into a thin line of frustration. He wanted you happy, and he wanted to give you much more than you ever had, and it pained him that you thought he might hurt you in that way. 
“I . . . I wouldn’t ever do that, Bambi,” He brushed tears from your cheeks and caressed your face, “I’d fu- … I’d rather die than let you go. And I’d kill anyone that tried to take you from me. Anyone, okay?”
“You’ve hurt people before,” It wasn’t a question; Rafe could see it was an observation she’d made. 
“Yes,” He admitted, “But I haven’t hurt you, have I?”
“You saved me.”
Rafe nodded, “That’s right, sweet girl. I saved you. I’ve hurt people, yes,  but I-I’m not a cruel person. I wouldn’t do something like that. And you make me so happy.”
Rafe watched as you blinked away your tears and tried to stop yourself from frowning, “What if I don’t always make you happy?”
“You make me happy by breathing,” Rafe tried to assure you, “You’re smart and beautiful, and you deserve nice things. I never had anyone in my life that made me feel like I deserved anything. I never even felt like I deserved to be loved. I don’t want you to ever feel like that.”
“I love you, Rafe,” You were trying to reassure him now, and Rafe was grateful. He loved those words on your lips, and he felt in his heart that you meant them, “And . . . I like being loved by you. So much.”
“Yeah?”
“Yes,” Rafe felt you press your forehead against his before you pressed your lips softly against his, “Thank you . . . for everything. Uhm, did I scare you?”
“No, no,” Rafe’s mind was mostly on the thought of your lips, “I like being woken up by cute bears.”
Rafe pulled you in again for a kiss. Softly, your lips moved together, and Rafe explored your mouth with his tongue, slowly deepening the kiss. Rafe was already growing hard, and he cursed in his mind, frustrated by how easily you got him going. 
“You still sore from earlier?” He asked. 
“A little bit,” You spoke shyly, “You were kinda rough…”
Rafe thought back to you, bent over the arm of the couch, taking you deep, but that just made his cock ache even more. 
“But I’ve trained that little hole well, haven’t I?” Rafe asked, pressing the length protruding from his boxers, against your stomach, “You can take more, okay?”
You nodded, although Rafe’s question was rhetorical. Rafe didn’t like you sad, but he certainly like seeing your teary face. Your pajamas were the cherry on top, including the convenient little flap on the back that allowed for easy access, “Turn around on your side, little girl,” Rafe commanded gruffly, “This will help you sleep.”
“Daddy…” You whined as you did exactly as Rafe ordered. 
“Right here, not going anywhere,” Rafe pushed his crotch into your ass, bringing his lips close to your ear. He ground against you as he carefully pulled down the front zipper of your onesie. He needed to feel your nipples between his fingers, your breasts in his large hands. He also needed your pussy dripping for him, knowing he couldn’t fuck you when you were already sore without any lubrication. He reached into your onesie, finding your mound easily, and began to rub circles over your sensitive area, “Daddy needs you so badly.”
You squirmed, but you were tightly pressed against him. He teased you, moving back and forth from your clit to your breasts. He’d rub your breast until you were aching below, and when you started to feel close, he’d go back to teasing your nipples. 
He got you to a point where you were so stimulated that you were already orgasming with three slow and deep strokes inside of you. You were convulsing around him, unable to contain your moans, but Rafe wrapped his hand around your mouth and continued to pump inside of you. It certainly wasn’t as rough as earlier, but Rafe could feel you squeezing him tighter, “You feel how happy you make me, Bambi?” Rafe grunted, “Daddy wouldn’t want to cum in any other pussy than yours — Jesus.”
Rafe finished inside of you. He hadn’t lost all of his energy, though, moving his hands back to your clit, as he filled you up. He didn’t stop until your legs were shaking and you were cumming again. 
“Thank me.”
“Thank you, Daddy,” You spoke breathlessly. 
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Now that your Daddy was allowing you out of the house, there were new rules for you to learn. Of course, you weren’t allowed to talk to strangers unless they were girls you met at dance class. You had to go by Y/N, Y/L/N, and Rafe had given you an ID to carry around when you couldn’t be together. If anyone asked who you were to Rafe, you could just say that you were his girlfriend and you’d moved in with him a few months ago. That wasn’t far from the truth, so you didn’t imagine that would feel like lying. 
A few days after he showed you the ballet company, he let you tag along to run errands with him. For most of the time you sat in the car, watching him pump gas, stop at different businesses, and shake hands with men who seemed amused by every word Rafe said. You noticed people tended to stare at him, especially as the two of you walked through the grocery store together. 
“Did people always stare at you like this?”
“They used to stare at my Dad; he used to be the King of this place,” You nodded, twirling the ribbon in your hair as Rafe pushed the cart along, “I don’t think people expected me to come back.”
“Well, since you’re Dad is gone. I guess you’re the King now,” You flashed him a smile. 
“Maybe so,” Rafe conceded. 
“Oooh, look!” You pointed at something in the refrigerated section that caught your eye, and your feet were already moving towards it. As soon as you pulled open the glass door, you felt Rafe’s strong hands around your bicep, stopping you. You whipped back to see eyes narrowed at you and his serious face.
“You can’t just run away from me like that,” He snapped, “Jesus . . . don’t do that, okay?”
“I’m sorry,” You squeaked, “I just saw . . . they have so many types of iced coffee. They have peppermint, and caramel and mocha-”
“Coffee isn’t good for you.”
“You let me eat sweets all the time, and those aren’t good for me,” The words came out before you could stop them. You couldn’t help but feel frustrated. Rafe offered you the world, but at the same time, he controlled so many aspects of it. 
You’d pissed him off; you could immediately see it in his face. His hand still on your arm, Rafe leaned closer to you, “You’re going to stand right next to the cart for the rest of the time we’re in here, and you’re not going to say another word, okay? I don’t want to hear it.”
You let the door go just as Rafe let your arm go. You crossed your arms, knowing you had no other choice than to keep your mouth closed. Rafe didn’t have much to say after that, and you let him brood on his own. 
You were standing near the fresh produce; Rafe was picking out the vegetables that Lana had written on the grocery list when you saw a woman approaching your cart. She had caramel skin and pretty curls that were tamed by a messy bun on top of her head. She was holding a small shopping basket, but she didn’t seem to have any care for any of the items inside as she stomped closer to the two of you, red in her eyes. 
“Rafe Cameron!” She didn’t seem even to perceive you as she stared Rafe down. You watched his reaction closely and how his contempt quickly switched from you to her. 
“Kie, long time no see,” He didn’t express much emotion other than through his eyes, making him appear stoic. 
The woman, Kie, didn’t hide any of her emotions, “I know what you did.”
“What’s that?” Rafe tilted his head. 
“You know what exactly I’m talking about,” She pointed a finger at him, tears in her eyes, “Your day is coming–”
He proceeded to talk over her, “Hey, let your Mom and pops know Cameron Development is still interested in working with them. I have the perfect property for their next restaurant. I mean, an absolutely gorgeous spot.”
“Fuck you, Rafe,” You covered your mouth in shock. 
“It was nice catching up with you too, Kie,” He winked as the woman walked away. 
You watched as Rafe’s hands squeezed into a fist and then how tightly they wrapped around the cart’s handle. 
“Daddy-”
“Let’s go, Bambi.”
“Rafe-”
“I didn’t want to hear it before; I definitely don’t want to hear your mouth now. Let’s go.” 
You bit your tongue and fell back into step with him. You supposed a king couldn't be loved by all his subjects.
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PART 6
Please reblog if you enjoyed and let me know what you think/predictions for the future!
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fangswbenefits · 3 months
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The Arrangement (13) - Tempest
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Chapter summary: A much needed conversation takes place... as well as a realisation that might change everything.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: Mentions of trauma.
Word count: 4.6k
Series masterlist . AO3
There was a crack on the ceiling.
A deep scowl settled on your face as you lay sprawled along the large bed, staring at the lightning-like fissure that had caught your attention.
How deep did it run? Had it been there all along? You wouldn't know. After all, you seldom spent time in this room.
His room.
Astarion had never shown interest in moving in with you and the others. He kept to himself and rushed to find accommodation at The Blushing Mermaid. You couldn't really fault him for wanting to keep to himself.
But you still kept this room vacant just in case he changed his mind.
He never did.
Little did you know that it would be a myriad of unfortunate events that had hurled him into this very room.
Until a few nights ago.
He left before you could convince him otherwise. 
Guilt had been boiling in the pit of your stomach ever since, but you had come to accept that some things were out of your control.
The house confinement had been lifted after much insistence on Wyll's part. It no longer seemed appropriate, yet he promised to keep Fists nearby just in case.
Still, Astarion was now free to do as he saw fit.
Wyll had met up with him and he was seemingly doing well.
Seemingly.
The events of that night kept on flashing in your mind, as you sought to find a rational explanation to what could have caused him to stare at you the way he had.
Revulsion.
Disgust.
Had you taken it too far? Maybe you should have suggested for him to feed on you. Maybe you shouldn't have been brought up that night.
Maybe, maybe, maybe…
You could go on forever, going over countless possibilities, but you were not inside his head.
Only he had the answers to your questions.
This was the logical side of you urging your mind to make peace with what is out of your control.
But your heart still clenched and ached and hurt.
Your feelings had been severed from all logic.
You still felt the need to go through that event, desperate to find solace.
That maybe this, too, would pass.
Maybe.
And just as always, a tear detached from the corner of your eye and streamed downwards, leaving a familiar wet trail in its wake.
Glancing around, you could still see so much of him everywhere.
His embroidery set, his books, his shirts, some of his vials of poison.
Even his scent lingered.
You hadn't even bothered drawing the curtains and letting the sun or moon in.
It was as if he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.
You heaved a deep sigh as you mustered the strength and will to shift your focus on what you could control.
The crack on the ceiling stared at you and you stared back at it, eventually deciding you should do something about it.
Pushing yourself off the bed, you placed both hands on your hips with newfound determination.
This you could fix.
Maybe.
The door was open, and you yelped in surprise as you saw movement in the corner of your eye.
Wyll was leaning against the doorframe with folded arms and the same kind and soft expression he always held around you.
“I didn't mean to scare you.”
You ran your hands along the silky fabric of the nightdress to adjust it before slipping into your robe, tying it snugly around your waist.
“Oh, I was simply distracted.” you blurted out, hurriedly wiping the wetness from your face.
An understanding smile curved his lips. “I knew I'd find you in his room.”
“It's not his room,” you immediately said. “Well – not really,” you added, fearing you had come across as too harsh.
He arched an eyebrow but said nothing.
Your gaze landed on the ceiling once more. “There's a crack on the ceiling.”
He slowly joined your side and followed your line of sight. “So there is.”
“I need to fix it.”
“You? Now? Do you think the ceiling is giving in?”
You stared at him, perplexed. “What?”
“Do you think it poses danger?” he asked, his eyes on you. “It is quite small.”
There was an argument to be made that the size of things seldom mattered.
Tiny cracks could make way to bigger ones.
Tiny cracks could still hurt.
They could still inflict damage.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you flinched. “Are you well?”
“Yes. Quite.”
An obvious lie you hadn't bothered to flesh out.
He didn't look convinced in the slightest, but didn't press things further.
You enjoyed that about Wyll. He knew exactly when silence was the best and more adequate answer. Sometimes, words just weren't enough.
Eventually, you cleared your throat. “I assume you're not here just visiting.”
“You caught me,” he said playfully, hands laced behind his back. “I come bearing news.”
From the way his face had faintly dropped, you could immediately tell your mood was about to shift in an unwanted direction.
“Ava?”
He nodded. “We still haven't been able to tie her to anything as of yet.”
You felt your stomach clench with dread. “It can't be… she has to be involved somehow.”
“I agree. I have the finest inquisitors trying to break through her facade – if she has one.”
There had to be something.
She had to be responsible.
“What about Rob Sorel? Surely he can be of help.”
A scowl twisted his face. “Nothing as of yet. He has a solid alibi that he insists on roping her into. Besides, he's an established patriar of the city, there is only so much pressure we can apply before tensions rise amongst the noblemen.”
A shaky sigh rushed past your lips. 
Wyll was stuck between a rock and hard place, no doubt. On one hand, he sought to act dutifully and according to his moral code. On the other hand, he was far from being impartial in the matter, and his friendship towards both you and Astarion could be seen as a compromising factor.
“How much time do we have until you have to set them free?”
“Maybe one more day,” he said. “Rob Sorel is the tricky part here. Ava has no power, but he does. He has connections that extend far beyond our reach, and if they take notice that he's imprisoned, it might trigger unforeseeable consequences.”
You began pacing around the room, urged by your nervousness and frustration.
“What of Waterdeep?”
Wyll followed your every move with his eyes. “Gale has yet to encounter anything suspicious that could be tied to her.”
You slumped into a nearby chair and pressed your face into the palms of your hands, letting out a growl. “I am not wrong about this,” you said almost pleadingly, lips quivering. “Wyll. I am not wrong. She – there is something wrong with her. Astarion…”
Your voice trailed off at the mention of his name in your mouth.
It hurt.
A painful jab in your chest rendered you silent, and you lowered your face, anticipating tears of frustration.
Wyll rushed to your side, placing a comforting hand atop your head, patting it gently.
“We will figure this out. You have my word.”
His word held weight. You knew of this. If there was anyone in Baldur's Gate whose word was worth gold, it was Wyll's.
But… “It is not fair. It is not fair that now he doesn't want to pursue this anymore… because of her.”
Wyll dropped to one knee, eye-levelling with you. “Astarion is stronger than we give him credit for, and he is free to choose his own path.”
“What if it's the wrong one?”
“You can't decide that for him,” Wyll reasoned, taking your hand in his. “All we can do now is give him time and respect that.”
Astarion needed time and you needed to find a way to make that realisation less agonising. 
You wanted nothing more than to be a comforting presence to him, but surely not at the expense of his well-being.
Breaking into a sob, you managed to stare into his eyes. “How is he doing?”
Wyll offered the warmest smile. “I believe he is doing well – within reason, that is. He was spotted hunting in the outskirts of the city before I got here.”
That should have put your mind at ease, but it only seemed to make matters worse.
“It's not enough… boars and deers and carrion cannot satiate him as thinking creatures do.”
His hand tightened around yours and his face was firm. “Are you referring to yourself?”
Your heart skipped a beat.
“I do not mean to pry on your relationship with him, but you're a dear friend of mine,” he began. “I am aware you want to help him get through his hunger, but you don't have to.”
Immediately, you pulled your hand from his grasp as if burned.
You didn’t need to be scolded on this.
“Don’t. Do not do this.”
Wyll fell silent, but there was a hint of sadness sprawled across his features.
Then it quickly dawned on you how unfair you were being towards him. 
“I apologise… you mean well, I know.”
Ever courteous, Wyll shook his head. “I overstepped a line. You care deeply for him and the bond you two share is foreign to me.”
This time, you took his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze.
Wyll also possessed a heart of gold that few could rival with. He never hesitated to take a step back if he believed to be in the wrong.
And he wasn't.
“No, you're right. You're merely looking out for a friend.”
“For both of you, actually,” he promptly corrected. “I care for both of you and I would detest for you to part ways unless as a last resort.”
You inhaled sharply. “We'll figure things out… hopefully.”
Were you trying to convince Wyll or yourself?
He rose to his full height, pulling you up with him. “If there is someone who can figure things out, it's you.”
How you wished that was so, but you accepted his words with a sincere smile.
“Do not fight me on this,” he said, playfully jabbing a finger into your shoulder. “You brought us all together
“It was only possible because of everyone's commitment,” you said truthfully. “Do not fight me on this.”
Wyll chuckled as you used his words against him, raising both hands. “Very well, very well.”
You looped your arm around his, allowing yourself to feel lighter and push the fear and concern aside even if just for a moment.
“It's quite late. You can stay over,” you offered kindly as the two of you headed downstairs.
He patted your hand. “Ah, I would gladly take up that offer, but duty calls.”
“At this hour?”
“The city never sleeps, my dear friend.”
It had to be an exhausting job more often than not, especially with all the unpredictability that came with it.
As you reached the kitchen, you were greeted by a couple of flickering candle lights spread across the room, providing just enough clarity for you to reach the front door.
Your arm slipped from his and you pulled him into a hug, which he reciprocated.
“Take care,” he said, patting your back lovingly. “We'll stay in touch.”
You nodded, fighting back the tears that had begun to prickle at your eyes.
When he finally pulled away, you realised that if Astarion had been there, he would have teased you to death about Wyll.
Alas…
With a final nod, he went out into the cool night, categorically greeted by two Fists that awaited him outside, ready to escort him back.
Just as you were about to close the door shut, Shadowheart's low voice was heard.
“Are you well? Was it a nightmare?”
You turned to face her. “Oh, no. Wyll dropped by to say that they might not be able to hold Ava as a prisoner for much longer.”
It was interesting that despite the abrupt departure from Astarion, you had been able to sleep undisturbed. Not a single nightmare or bizarre dream had plagued your subconscious ever since.
Granted, you had been using the lavender oil Shadowheart had gifted you, but its effectiveness was still debatable.
She grimaced, adjusting her own robes, as she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Snivelling little cockroach,” she said with a hiss. “There must be a way to catch her in a lie.”
It was far too late and you were far too exhausted to pursue this matter once again.
You needed to step out and catch some fresh air.
“I'll be in the backyard.”
Shadowheart's quick steps drew near. “Do you want some company?”
“I'd rather be by myself, if that's alright.”
She nodded, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze. “Of course.”
Slipping past the open door, you made your way around the house and towards the back garden that Gale took pride in keeping luscious and vibrant.
You hadn't told any of them what had happened between you and Astarion a few nights ago.
They knew something had happened, but didn't press you for details, which you were thankful for. They assumed he had parted from the group again because of the whole Ava ordeal and that he needed to process things.
But you knew it was related to you. You knew deep inside you that something within him had been triggered and it made your heart clench knowing you were probably the root cause of it.
The gentle night breeze rushed past your cheeks, as you hurried along, barefoot and with only a thin robe to keep any semblance of heat close to your body.
The grass crunched softly under your feet and you only came to a halt once you found yourself surrounded by countless flowerbeds of all shapes and sizes.
You took a deep breath, calmness filling your lungs as the soothing scent of grass and pollen wafted around you.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough for now.
The crickets were in full force tonight which only added to the magical ambiance.
For the first time in what seemed like too long, you smiled widely.
You wrapped the robe around you tightly as you sat on the wooden bench by the impressive row of night orchids.
Mindlessly, your hand reached down and you plucked a wilted flower bud that had certainly gone past its time.
It was still as radiant as ever in hues of dark blue and purple.
You twirled the stem in between your fingers as you glanced up to admire the glinting stars high up above, sprawled across the sky.
Bathed in moonlight and surrounded by calm and quiet, you pulled your legs up and pressed them against your chest, resting your chin on your knees.
You vaguely wished you could freeze this moment in time and take in all the beauty that surrounded all of you.
“It's quite a sight.”
You jolted in your seat at the sound of a velvety voice.
Astarion.
Your eyes found his crimson ones in the dark of night, and an overwhelming urge to bolt straight into his arms nearly took over.
But your mind held you back, rooting you in place as you watched him approach.
“The stars, I mean,” he added with a purr, glancing upwards at the starry night sky.
The playful jab didn't go amiss and you felt a faint smile tugging at your lips.
He had uttered that same remark many moons ago, teasing you for entering his field of vision.
And now here he was, entering yours and capturing your attention like he had the first time.
It was as if the very sight of him was a force of nature that slammed mercilessly against your chest, robbing you of air.
Your heart was thumping so hard you could hear each heavy beat in your ears.
You leaned back, taking in the full sight of him.
He looked… well.
He looked fed.
He looked like himself.
But there was this aura about the way he slowly moved that indicated something was amiss.
Silently, he sat next to you, far enough that your heart skipped a fleeting beat.
Should you say something? Ask something? Should you wait for him? 
Astarion eventually turned to stare at you. “It's quite cold tonight yet you're out here wearing nothing but your paper-thin nightdress and an equally useless robe.”
You opened your mouth, but you just couldn't speak.
He slipped the thick cloak off his shoulders and draped it over yours with a click of his tongue.
“You were never one to properly look after yourself, but, darling… do not get sick on me,” he finished with what seemed to be a genuine teasing smile.
Words were stuck in your throat. The fear and dread that you might utter something wrong completely froze you in place.
He looked and talked like your Astarion.
But was he truly being himself?
His gaze dropped to the flower in your hand and he tugged it free from your grip, inspecting it closely.
“Ah, flowers… beautiful, but–”
“–they make for lousy poisons,” you completed, voice coming out raspy.
Another genuine smile ghosted his lips. “Yet it would look even more beautiful on you,” he said, his hand reaching out to tuck the stem behind your ear. “As most things do.”
“Astarion…” you said, swallowing hard.
“I meant every word.”
He was overcompensating and deflecting.
Your heart sank.
It wasn’t that he didn’t mean what he was saying, but you could tell this was an attempt at mending things between you without quite addressing the issue.
And he clearly realised you had seen right through him as he sighed. “Alright, alright… we do need to talk, don't we?”
You nodded silently.
A shiver ran through your body and it wasn't due to the cold breeze.
It was the gripping fear that whatever came next might break your spirit.
He fixed his stare somewhere in the distance before speaking again, “I apologise for leaving so hurriedly that night. I… supposed I got carried away and it felt rather overwhelming.”
Your mouth had dried up. “What did I do wrong?”
This time, he turned his head to fully face you, a sliver of confusion twisting his pleasant features. “You didn’t do anything wrong. It was me – my head – that got in the way.”
You didn’t believe him.
“You were talking to me and suddenly it was as if I had said something horrifying,” you whispered, doing your best to keep your tone steady. “It was me… it was something I said.”
He paused for a moment. “It is not your fault that this happens. I need you to understand that. Please.”
A lump formed in your throat but you swallowed it right away, not wanting to be bound to silence.
This conversation was long overdue.
“Can I be honest?”
He quickly nodded. “I would expect nothing less from you.”
You collected yourself and your heart. “I don't know how to help you… I don't know what to do…” you said truthfully, lacing your fingers together and unable to face his piercing eyes. “I don't want to be too much… I don't want to trigger you. I do–”
Astarion cut you off immediately. “Look at me. Please.”
He waited for you to do so and only then did he proceed. “There was a time I cursed from having a wriggling worm inside my head. Little did I know that that was the least of my problems. And this is my problem. Not yours.”
You had to bite down on your lower lip to keep it from quivering.
He suddenly looked weary, running a hand along his face. “I am tired – exhausted to have my mind holding my body back. There are times when I can go through with it… and it's mostly thanks to you and your patience.”
There was a part of you that was relieved that he wasn't upset with you.
But a more vicious part of you rose a voice inside your head, telling you he was merely doing damage control.
That he just wanted you for your blood.
“What's that look on your face?” he asked, sounding hurt. “You do not believe me?”
You pushed the mocking voice away and blinked. “No – I just… Astarion… I don't know what to do. I don't. I want to be here for you, but I keep fearing we're pushing it.”
He pressed his lips into a fine line, brows knitted together.
Your legs dropped and you straightened yourself with a sigh, the sudden movement causing the orchid to drop from behind your ear and onto the ground.
“What can I do? How can I help?”
He looked almost offended for a brief moment, but his features eased before he spoke, “I don't want you to treat me like a glasshouse. I don't want pity or mercy. I want whatever you are willing to give me.”
Your heart was beating faster than ever. “And what do you need?”
Silence.
Astarion kept mixing want with need and it often landed him in less than ideal situations.
“To finally be free. I believed facing Cazador and destroying him would grant me freedom, but there is no worse cage than your own mind.”
Now, that was an answer that made your eyes widen. 
Ava had once uttered similar words.
In truth, you expected him to make it all about you, but his words lifted a weight off your shoulders.
But there was still doubt in your mind.
“I can and will be here for you,” you said firmly. “But I need you to promise me something.”
He nodded.
“Please let me know whenever I say or do something that hurts you. That night–”
He held one hand up,  effectively silencing you. “That night was different. It was the timing of it all that caused me to…”
His voice faltered.
You waited for him to find it again.
And he did. “I don't want our relationship to revolve around some silly arrangement to keep me in line. As much as I crave your blood more than anything else, I do not wish for this to feel like a transaction.”
“I've always made it clear that I more than willingly give it to you.”
“Yet my mind tells me I am using you.”
It was as if someone had thrusted a knife into your heart. “Astarion – what? You… you're not.”
The mocking voice inside your head laughed loudly, making your shudder.
“Then don't offer me your blood,” he said. “Feeding on you has become tainted. For now… I can't do it.”
He's a liar. He's used you before and he's playing mind games again.
“You can feed again whenever you're ready,” you said, finding a way to voice your thoughts in the midst of the negativity that had such a tight hold on you. “I know wildlife isn't enough.”
Astarion’s shoulders slumped. “Thank you.”
You nodded.
He didn't know how close you were to breaking into tears. Not from what he was saying, but from the vitriol that your own mind was spewing in regards to him.
He wasn't inside your head, but you were.
And it was awful.
Still, you fought through it. You had to. “I'm here for you.”
You felt his cool fingers brush against yours.
“You don't have to be.”
One by one, your fingers laced with his and you realised your hand was freezing from the cool night air.
But you could still feel his touch.
You could still feel him.
“We can stay as friends.”
Astarion let out a growl of sheer frustration. “Why must you insist on this? Does it truly matter if we are friends or lovers or whatever other social construct you think we should fall under?”
His grip tightened around you, in a silent plea. 
“We're… us. No one is like us,” he went on. “We don't need labels or to follow any relationship rules that some drunkard shoved into a book.”
His last remark earned a chuckle from you, but mostly because he was so right.
“We're us.” you repeated.
“Yes. Whatever that entails. As long as you're comfortable with me, we're us.” 
Slowly but surely, your heartbeat slowed down, falling into a steady rhythm.
“I want you to be comfortable with me, too,” you said. “Just promise to let me in. If you need time and space, I will respect that, just… don't vanish.”
Silly girl, he'll break your heart again, the voice mocked.
“I promise.”
The two of you leaned back against the wooden bench, still quite far apart, but not letting go of each other's hands.
You felt so light it was almost if the faintest of breezes could carry you away, floating across the field of flowers.
But even if it were so, you doubted he'd let go of your hand.
You'd remain anchored to him.
For better or for worse.
You'd either float or sink with him.
You liked the options, because now they existed. Before this conversation, all you had was the impending feeling that the tiniest of cracks would tear through your relationship, and that it would sink.
Now, you had hope.
After a while, you spoke again, “What now?”
His thumb caressed yourse absentmindedly. “What do you mean?”
“We're at a standstill. The Ava situation… finding a way for you to walk in the sun. We're rooted in place, it seems.”
Somehow, he managed a chuckle. “You and I made progress, did we not? Even at the expense of everything else. Isn't that worth something?”
You found him staring at you with those crimson eyes of his and that genuine smirk that always got to you.
“I suppose. You're right… yet I can't help but feel sorry that you seem to be the one with much more to lose.”
He squeezed your hand playfully, earning a gasp from you. “Darling, you don't get it, do you? I've spent hundreds of years unable to form a single bond with anyone that didn't feel tainted or doomed. Until you came along. You and that bleeding heart of yours. If there is a price to be paid for a single meaningful relationship, I'll pay it.”
Your heart clenched and the first tears began to stream down your face.
You adored him.
In that moment, you wished to melt into his embrace.
“Besides, nothing is over yet. We're quite terrific at turning the impossible into possible.”
You chuckled, eyes welling up with more tears. He shifted closer to you, letting go of your hand and brushing both thumbs across your cheeks to wipe them clean.
“There is one regret I have, though.”
A jab of fear poked at you. “What is it?”
He cradled your face in his hands. “You're so cold right now and I cannot warm you up.”
You felt as though you might melt into his touch.
“Is that your only regret?” you asked playfully.
He shook his head. “I suppose not. Striking a deal with Ava might top this.”
Your face dropped instantaneously.
“Oh, I've ruined the moment, haven't I?”
“Maybe,” you said softly as he pulled back. “But we'll get through this. Whether you decide to pursue the Wish spell or not, I am here for you. We are here for you.”
He looked peaceful.
You hadn't seen that expression in a while.
“I remember Ava once saying that pursuing the Wish spell was folly. That I either wished to be cured from vampirism altogether, or that I'd end up some weirdly washed out version of a vampire spawn.”
Oh.
And then your heart plummeted as realisation hit you.
How did you not see this before?
“Astarion?”
“Hmm? What?”
Once again, your heart raced in your chest. “Astarion… who would benefit from you not having your vampirism meddled with?”
He arched an eyebrow in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Dread took over you and flinched away from his grip, bolting to your feet. “By preventing you from getting access to the Wish spell, you remain a spawn… untouched… your blood…”
Astarion's eyes widened.
“Shit.”
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TBC
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storiesfromafan · 10 months
Note
could you do a fic with mattheo x y/n including the words, i wish i'd never met you. maybe like they got in a fight and now he's trying to comfort her, but she doesn't want to hear it? thank you so much, i love your content
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A/N: thank you for the submission 😊 I hope you like this, it is angst haha.
Pairing: Mattheo x Fem!Reader
The Arguement
He could be so infurating! He could make your blood boil, both in a good way but mostly a bad way. Mattheo Riddle might be your endearing boyfriend, yet he got on your nerves more then ever after you got together. It was all sweet and dream like to start. It began with parchment notes in class then small conversations at meal times. You even began to sit with his friends, and soon Pansy Parkinson became a good friend.
With time and a few dates Mattheo had some red flags begin to show. Yet wearing rose colour glasses, you made excues or turned a blind eye to them. And once you gained the title of Mattheo Riddle’s Girlfriend those red flags grew more. He could be jealouse or rude to males around you or who gave you the time of day, was possesive, could be demanding, ignore you for days, just to name a few.
Which brings us back to the current moment of another school day at Hogwarts. Classes were done for the day but you and Pansy had taken to the Library to study for Snape’s potions test tomorrow. Being Slytherin gave those students in that house some brownie points with Snape, but do poorly in his class and you might as well pack your bags. Snape had pride in Slytherin, so expectations were high.
Things had been going well in the Library. Pansy was greatful for your help, as you were a bit more put together then her. And the extra study was beneficial for you. Over the hour you both were there, you were joined by other Slytherin students who were panicing. Among them was Jordan Allen and Gil Williams. They were both nice and respectful guys, you’d actually known Jordan since your first trip on the Hogwart’s Express. So you both were studying the same book, debating on what Snape’s test would entail from it. And along the way you’d both began to joke around, which hadnt gone noticed by the others around you both.
Unfortuatly Mattheo, along with Draco and Blaise, had decided to join you and Pansy at this moment. Upon seeing the banter and laughter between his girlfriend and a Slytherin student he didn’t care for, Mattheo’s expression grew dark. The boys at his side, as well as Pansy, saw the change in the Slytherin heart throb. All three knew this was not going to end well. And it didn’t.
Mattheo walked over to where you were sitting, once standing behind you he leaded down till his face was next to yours. “Hello Love” Mattheo said in a husky voice.
You jumped not realising that your boyfriend had showed up. You felt a little guilty not noticing him. “Hello!” You replied in surprise before planting a kiss to his cheek.
Mattheo had turned his gaze to the male next to you, staring him down as you kissed his cheek. It was Mattheo’s way of showing the male you were his. Jordan eventually everted his gaze from your boyfriend when the dark look in Mattheo’s deep brown orbs became too much. You noticed the smirk that formed on Mattheo’s lips before he turned his attention to you. Unsure what he was so proud of, you looked back to your friend and saw how he looked down at the book on the table, looking a little frazzled.
Then it hit you. Mattheo, who you thought was being kind of sweet, was actually being a jealous, pompos ass. Feeling your blood starting to boil, which only grew hotter quickly when Jordan decided to excuse himself. That was the final straw. This was the last male friend Mattheo had intimidated and scared off. By this time Mattheo had smuggly taken Jordan’s seat, drawing you closer to him. But you weren’t having it. Slaming your textbook closed, you packed up for book and other things before telling Pansy you were heading out. Not once even giving Mattheo any attention. He didn’t deserve it. Not one bit!
You had manouvered out of the Library and had just made it to one of the hallways you had to take back to the Dungeon’s before Mattheo had caught up to you. He had called out your name but you had ignored him. Only when he grabbed your arm and stopped you in the hallway did you finally acknowledge your boyrfriend.
“Bloody Hell Y/N/N!” He said out of breath and annoyed. “What’s gotten into you!?”
You glared at the brunet before you, ripping your arm from his grasp. “You know damn well what’s gotten into me!” You said, spitting out the word’s he’d spoken.
Standing up straight, Mattheo’s dark brown eyes souly focused on you with a glare. He scoffed. “How about you tell me Love. After all, I did ask you first”.
Surprise flashed on your face briefly at how Mattheo was talking to you, but just as quick it was gone and replaced with your glare once more. If that was how he wanted to be, you weren’t going to back down.
“I was studying with Pansy before Jordan and the other Slytherin’s joined us, if you must know” you replied turning and started to head for the Slytherin common room. Mattheo hot on your heels, only getting more furious.
“Sure, studying” he spat. You shot him a sharp look. “From what I saw you were flirting and not studying”.
“Ha!” You said stopping suddenly and looking Mattheo in the eyes. “We were studying, nothing else. You’re just jealouse! Always thinking every male I interact with is flirting with me, or interested in me!” You poked him in the chest before taking off down the hallway again.
Mattheo laughed dryly continuing to follow you. “Oh come on Y/N/N! Don’t be so coy. You know those guys flirt with you, that they look at you with lust”.
You laughed heading down the stairs to the dungeons. “Please, I think you’ve got it wrong” you replied shaking your head. “You’re describing yourself and all the girls that fall at your feet!”
He grabbed your arm when you both made it to the bottom of the stairs. “Now, now Love. This is about you, not me!”
“Oh yes, sorry” you said rolling your eyes. “It’s always me in the wrong, never you, right?”
Mattheo’s grip tightened, making you wince a little. But he didn’t care. “I don’t like anyone coming near, speaking to or taking whats mine” Mattheo said dangerously low as his face came close to yours.
You wanted to cower, you wanted to beg for forgiveness. But this was it, you’d had enough. You looked him dead in the eye, not backing down like he wanted you too. It was a dangerous game to play. But what did you have to loose? Him? Yes. But if you give in to him, you’d loose respect for yourself.
“Let me go” you said calmly, eyes never wavering from his.
Mattheo didn’t do as you asked. He kept a firm hold on your arm. “No”.
With a small growl you used your free arm, pushing Mattheo back with your hand until he released you. “What is your problem!?” You questioned in a raised voice. “I am with you, Mattheo. It is always you! But you seem to think I would jump to another guy without so much as a second thought. Which I would never do! I love you for crying out loud!”
Mattheo winced at your words. He knew what you said was true, but a voice in the back of his mind told him it was a lie. Why wouldn’t you want someone else? Someone better then him? Someone who would sweep you off your feet?
Without thinking Mattheo opened his mouth and said wahtever came out first. “Oh please. Any guy gives you attention and you’d run off with them. After all I showed the slightest interest and you became a puppy that would follow me everywhere”.
He knew it was wrong. He knew it was an untrue exaduration. But it just kept coming. The word vomit, his insecurities, rising and possibly ruining everything. You. You looked shocked, hurt. All colour draining from your face at what he was saying.
“Y/N, you would let any guy have you if it meant not being alone”. That was the final nail.
Mattheo knew that you’d lost your parents early on. And didn’t have anyone close in your life. Those that cared for you did no such thing. They put up with you because it was expected of them, not because they wanted too. So those that you were friend’s with were your family. You did seek out approval from people. But with Mattheo it was different. He had seeked you out. He had instigated everything. He was the one to ask you out. He was the one who put the label on your relationship. Yet he had the hide to say you were the needy one!
All emotion left your face. But your eyes turned icy as they looked to the male before you. You stepped back from Mattheo, who’s mind was trying to work out how to take the foot from his mouth. You took a deep breath, and then other. Finally you straightened your posture, holding your head high.
“I’m glad I now know what you really think” you said eerly calm. “Fine then. Noted. How about I show you how wrong you are Mattheo”.
“What? W-what do you mean?” He sputtered.
“It’s done, we’re done” you replied turning from the male before you. You had taken a few steps before stopping, not looking back at him. “I-I wish I hadn’t met you…”.
Mattheo had barely heard your words before you left him, standing there alone in the cold dungeons. His blood ran cold from the argument, and end of your relationship. How stupid he had been to let his mouth get away with itself, and his damn brain for not filtering anything.
Alone. Mattheo was now alone. He was the one who had needed you. He was the one who needed your validation. He needed your love and affection. And in true Riddle fashion, ran you away. His chest ached. His stomach was in knots. His eyes burned, but he couldn’t let the tears out. Not here out in the open. Willing his body to move, Mattheo managed to get back to his dorm room. Briefly he saw you as he passed the Syltherin common room. Still you looked shut off and cold. But he pushed on to his room and his bed. Mattheo drew the curtains to his bed, welcoming the darkness. The same that was housed in himself. For anyone to hurt the light in their life deserved the darkness.
A/N: if anyone else has any submissions, feel free to put them in my ask box 😊
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anantaru · 1 year
Text
˚✧⁎⁺˳ sfw alhaitham boyfriend headcanons
some sweet boyfriend hcs about the scribe since he’s finally getting released, enjoy everyone ૮꒰ྀི ´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
꒰ a/n ꒱ — some instances in this are inspired by a couple hcs i have written about him in the past!
꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, gn! reader
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+ ˚ matching rings
for alhaitham, having a sense of bond with his significant other aside from an— already exceptional, emotional connection, didn‘t seem like an item he would‘ve spend nor waste any time on.
though a while later, after one day when he had sauntered through the midst of sumeru city, his eyes had suddenly caught a glimpse of a glowing jewel on a small table, being sold by a vendor from another nation.
it wasn‘t until later when he realised that the ring had a little stone embedded into it which held onto your most favorable color, next to it a larger version of the same product, a little different, but still carrying on the same intensity of beauty.
in the end he decided to buy it for you both, there wasn‘t a specific day or a special occasion that alhaitham had waited for to gift you his little present.
in reality he one day, brought the small gift with him to meet you, at last showing it to you in his large hand, the glow of the radiant stone on top of the golden frame had taken in the grand total of your pure attention.
he was well aware that you liked it, it was clearly written all over your sweet expression, how your eyes had widened in mere seconds, fixed with a certain luminosity of being so utterly grateful to him.
slowly, he rolled the ring on its desired destination and it fit you perfectly, of course it did.
after all, it was him who had your love, had fully acquired it and if he would remember and dwell back on it, alhaitham surely didn‘t regret buying the little gold since it was now an element part of his love for you, you who was his priceless possession.
+ ˚ slow, lazy make out sessions and his love
with the freedom he had obtained due to his job as the akademiya‘s scribe, alhaitham could gather enough spare time for you both to share with each other.
the comfort he sought after a long day was forthwith found in your arms with his head snugly leaning into your warm chest, listlessly paying attention to the low thumps of your heart.
although the two of you would engage in conversation at first, carelessly rattling onto numerous topics that just so happened over the past few hours, it'd aways end with you both getting closer.
for some unexplained reason, alhaitham tried to justify the comfort that consumed him whenever his lips would touch yours. It might have to do something with the dopamine releasing in him, with it setting free euphoric sensations in both his body and soul.
you were so sweet, so soft and squishy when your breathing went a tone lower, worldly wise and at a standstill, you were both relaxing under your touches, the romantic atmosphere that gnawed itself into the air, your surroundings adapting a fire as he gently took your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger, drawing you close just a bit more, a little.
there was no doubt that you have greatly helped him improve in the relationship department, not only with you sharing an intimate, romantic connection but as well as when it came to friendships in its complete glory, to illustrate further as indicated with his colleagues of the sumeru akademiya.
in this moment, you do not speak, neither of you.
it's those nanoseconds where alhaitham would be plagued by words or letters he wouldn't be the best person to speak them out loud, though in his mind, they ran freely and in tandem with his feelings.
i need you by my side, all eternity, i am better because of you, i love you unconditionally, all of you.
+ ˚ reading to you while cuddling
alhaitham had always preferred to stay in with you, to keep a low profile, in a finer way dedicating his time to you.
obviously, some of the books he had stored away in his home could become quite difficult for you to read and although sometimes— alhaitham would explain them to you in great detail, you will not understand a single syllable that was escaping that pretty mouth of his.
yet he was still trying for you and archons:
the way his bright eyes would carefully ghost over each page in concentration, or how he deciphered every definition in his brain, individually breaching out one and all meanings to gather the right one or how he was easily deducting the words with his cleverness.
to say he was cute while being surrounded by his thoughts was an understatement.
yes, it was apparent that as a result of some of the topics he'd try to make you understand, you'd end up falling asleep on top of him, more often than you'd actually prefer to do so.
It's not like you wanted to, also you didn't want alhaitham to feel like he was boring you to death because in truth it wasn't him who did— but the overly tedious subjects at hand specific books would display.
at this, he wouldn't fault you, at all.
meanwhile he had already pleasingly tucked a blanket over your resting frame, gently making sure you were extra comfortable while moving his body only as little as possible so he wouldn't accidentally stir you off your precious slumber.
as for how this day would end, well, alhaitham would continue to page through his book before at last, placing it onto the nightstand, dimming the lights before encircling you in his broad arms, compassionately positioning his head on top of yours and drifting off to a silent, secured doze next to you.
+ ˚ conclusion and alhaitham‘s ways of handling arguments
befitting of his character, alhaitham could become quite difficult to deal with when it came to arguments that would occur just as much as in any other relationship.
it was bound to happen and to him, it was mind numbing.
seldomly he would actively engage in an argument, which wasn't always the best route to take because it was important for both parties in a relationship to be open about their corresponding feelings and emotions.
deep trust was what had defined your relationship, since it was one, if not the most important factor. He was a great listener and once the situation had been properly calmed down alhaitham would appear to go through great lengths to make whatever seemed to had happened, right again.
however, he was quite uncomfortable whenever he witnessed you cry, unmistakably it wasn't in a belittling kind of way, rather did it too, push him into a soul destroying current, masticating him from the inside out.
it was a learning process, a wholly overtaxing one at that, but he did not seek perfection of you and neither did you.
to put it into a different perspective, in the end alhaitham— though it may not always seem this way, did whatever it required for you to be happy again.
he belonged to you just as much as you belonged to him and he wanted, more so desired, to keep it that exact way.
to live a peaceful, tranquil life with his soulmate was something he, no matter what, fancied.
on top of that, he'd make it his top priority to be unconditionally transparent with you, not daring to hide any aspects of his life with you in order for this to work out until the very end.
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©2023 anantaru do not share, copy, translate any of my work
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actuallysaiyan · 22 days
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The First Time(Aka How Nanami Kento Lost His Virginity) Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing
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Chapter One: A Lesson In Kissing
warnings: kissing, exploring sexually, fluff, mentions of IRL creative licenses/pop culture references pairings: Emo!Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: after a few weeks of getting to know the shy and stoic Nanami Kento, you invite him over to your dorm to watch some anime. as things progress, you realize that you have taken his kissing virginity...
taglist: @beneathstarryskies @seireiteihellbutterfly @benkeibear @kenpachisbrat. @gennaray
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Masterlist
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Classes had begun fairly well and you were getting into the full swing of things. Moving to a different city and going to a prestigious university hadn’t been your initial plan, but when you won the bursary and the scholarship, you found yourself unable to say no. Your parents had encouraged you to go, praising you for your high grades and your charismatic nature. So with that in mind, you had been very excited about the prospect.
You had worked in a bank a little bit during your last year of high school. And it completely changed your mindset about money. You decided not long after that that you were going to study to become a financial advisor. You wanted to be able to help people with their money. You wanted them to see that they could make good, fiscal plans with their assets.
And taking classes in business and finance could open a lot of doors for you. Even if the financial advisor job fell through, you could make your way into a job in stocks. Anything in the financial and business field would make you happy.
This is where you met Nanami Kento. He’s shy, sullen and stoic. He hides in the back of your shared classes. You swear he’s not paying attention whatsoever, but he’s acing the tests and the quizzes. He’s at the top of the class, no matter the subject. He’s got his nose buried in a book or his notebook most of the time.
It was his amber eyes that drew you in. Most of the time you only got to see one as he covers the other with his bangs. He rarely smiles, which also draws you in. Everyone else is dressed in business attire, whereas Kento wears business casual. And he’s very heavy on the casual side of things.
But due to his academic successes and good grades, nobody is batting an eyelash at him. Seemingly you might be the only person in these classes that is even remotely interested in him. One thing that really caught your eye was his collection of pins on his jacket.
You approach him one day after class, and he shoots you a confused look. Everyone is leaving the classroom, but you wanted to get to know him more. You wanted to approach him. And the minute you do, you notice not only does he have a look of confusion on his face, but he’s also blushing.
“You’re Nanami-san, yes?” You inquire, even if you know the answer.
He pulls his bag over his shoulder, “Y-yes. That’s me.”
You introduce yourself and extend your hand out to him, “Nice to meet you. I really like your pin.”
When he doesn’t shake your hand, you point at the cute little GIR pin on his lapel. Not many people you know have watched Invader Zim. He sort of looks at you in shock for a minute before turning away. 
“Thanks, see ya.”
And you don’t approach him for another few weeks after that first encounter. You wonder if he’s just shy or if he’s abrasive. He seems so cute in your eyes. So you push yourself to make an effort to talk to him more.
The second time, you invite him out to lunch. He doesn’t outright say yes, but he also doesn’t say no. He begins to follow you to the cafe just outside of the campus. You both order a coffee and sit in silence for a little bit.
“How’d you find the test?” You ask him, taking a sip of your coffee.
He shrugs, “It was fine.”
“You must be very smart. You’re at the top of our class.”
He blushes and shrugs once more, “I don’t know. It’s just not too hard for me.”
The conversation dies down before you head over to the counter and order two sandwiches. Then you return with the two plates and Kento is confused. It’s been a long time since anyone has bought him lunch. He’s really not sure why someone as beautiful as you would even bother with him.
“Do you like the band The Used?”
Kento’s eyes widen, “Y-yeah! You like The Used?”
You nod. “Love ‘em! They are so awesome.”
This begins an acquaintanceship between you and Kento. You spend the lunch hour chatting about your favorite bands, your favorite manga and anime and of course, your favorite tv shows. You both discover very quickly that you have so much in common.
By the time lunch hour is over, you’re both upset that you’ll have to end the conversation. You see Kento in a whole new light, and him…he realizes that there are still some good people in this world.
The next time you two meet, you invite him to your dorm room. He’s never been invited to someone’s dorm since he enrolled, so he’s a little nervous about it. Not to mention the fact that he thinks he’s developing a crush on you. This coupled with the fact that he’s entirely a virgin scares him. Nevertheless, he makes his way to your dorm and knocks on the door. In his other hand is a bag of snacks and drinks to share with you.
“Kento-kun! Nice to see you! Come in,” you greet him in such a sunny way. Your demeanor was beginning to remind him of someone from his past.
He smiles shyly, “Thanks.”
He makes his way into your little space. Despite it being small, you’ve managed to make it feel so nice and cozy. It’s well decorated with band posters, comfy furniture and even a little kitchenette area. He’s surprised that you could make such a small place look so much like a home.
“Sit down,” you motion to the couch. “I’ll get us some cups.”
You return to the living room area of the room and join him on the couch. On your little TV, you have some old anime playing. Kento is immediately sucked in. You find the drinks in his bag and pour the drinks. Your fingers brush against his when you pass him the cup. He shudders from the sudden contact, hiding it by returning his attention to the TV.
“You like this?” You gesture to the TV.
He nods, “Yeah, this is Ninja Scroll, right?”
“Yeah! I didn’t think anyone was still interested in this sort of stuff.”
You and Kento begin a conversation about anime and the movie that’s playing. You both can’t stop talking to each other. It’s just like the conversation continues to flow so naturally between the two of you. The more you conversed., the more you found yourself liking him. He’s cute, knowledgeable and not like a lot of the other guys you’ve met.
As the conversation dies down, both of you sit in a comfortable semi-silence. The movie comes to a point where the romance is noticeable. You feel your heart pumping a little faster when you look at Kento again.
He’s blushing as his eyes lock with yours. He’s never even kissed before, but he’s not stupid. He knows where you want to take this relationship, but he’s so damn scared to fuck it up. There’s got to be some sort of false confidence he could display.
Yet the minute your soft lips press against his, he knows you’re going to be able to suss out his inexperience within seconds. He doesn’t know how to kiss you back, so he sits there stunned. His hands are shaking as you sit even closer to him. And then when you pull away, you notice the look on his face.
“Shit, I am so sorry, Kento. I thought…well, I thought maybe you wanted to make-out.”
Kento’s cheeks burn even more, “I-I do, I just… Idon’tknowhowto.”
You can barely make out what he’s just said. But the sentiment is there and you pick it apart. He’s never made out before. Your brain turns this information over a few times and then it clicks. That was probably his first kiss. You begin to blush and apologize profusely.
“I am so sorry, I thought that maybe…”
Then he surprises you. He kisses you. It’s sloppy and harsh, but you appreciate it all the same. Your hand reaches out to cup his face, and he shudders again. You’re so soft and you smell so good and the feeling of your lips on his makes his heart race. When he pulls away, he’s the one apologizing.
“Don’t even say you’re sorry. That was a sweet kiss.”
Then the two of you turn to face each other. The tension could be cut with a knife. You reach out to cup his face again, pulling him even closer. His hands shake as he tries to caress you, but he’s just not even sure what to do. You lead him through another kiss, this time you deepen it just a bit more.
His fists stay clenched at his side for the first part of this kiss, then you gently reach out to intertwine your fingers with his. The minute you do this, he melts into the kiss.
Then you pull away, leaning your forehead against his. Your hands are so soft against his face. He nuzzles his face into your palm before he leans in once more. This time, Kento takes the lead which surprises you. He pins you down on the couch with his body weight.
The kisses that follow are so tentative and slow. He’s learning how to be less sloppy and more precise. He’s gaining confidence the more you two explore, and soon you feel his hands on your sides. He caresses you so softly, almost like he’s afraid you’re going to slip away and end up being some figment of his imagination.
“You’re a good kisser,” you compliment him when you both pull away to breathe.
“T-thanks…you were my first.”
You cup his cheeks, “I know that, baby.”
Then your lips meet in another sweet kiss. But this time you surprise him by gliding your tongue along his bottom lip. Kento freezes for a moment, then he parts his lips.
‘So soft, so sweet…tastes so good.’ His mind is racing with thoughts like this. ‘Wanna taste her even more…’
Your tongues rub and roll together sensually. Soon you feel him grinding against you and you notice just how hard he is. His erection is poking against your thigh. And as much as you want to keep going, you think it’s probably for the best that you pace these things out.
So you pull away, leaving Kento panting and looking so dazed. He’s so sweet like this. This is the cutest look on his face you have ever seen. His lips try to chase yours a little, but you pull back just enough. Then you caress his cheek.
“Let’s slow this down, yeah?”
He swallows hard. “Oh uhm…yeah okay.”
You notice his disappointment, “I just don’t want you to rush into this. Let’s make this something special,”
He finally nods and smiles. His heart feels full of affection for you. This was exactly what he needed after all the trauma in his life. You were truly someone who cared and you were looking out for him.
You kiss his cheek. “Don’t worry. I really like you. I’m not kicking you out.”
He smiles shyly, “Okay cool. Can we maybe cuddle?”
You wrap your arms around him and bring him even closer. His head rests on your chest and you two fall into the blissful happiness of cuddles.
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His Eyes
Mihawk x gn!reader
Summary: you may dislike eye contact, but that doesn’t make his eyes any less mesmerizing
Content: some fluff, a little romance. They’re on a mission. Reader is autistic.
A/N: this is a shorter piece, just a snippet of an idea really, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. So now I’m making you all think about it too! Like all my stories, Mihawk is based on a mix of his live action personality, and the little bit I know from watching some of the anime and reading the manga quite literally years ago.
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Dracule Mihawk. A great warlord of sea. A man so powerful that his very presence makes others stop and step back wherever he goes, who can freeze a person in place with just his intense, piercing gaze.
You love his gaze.
You love the color of his eyes, the way that lantern light plays across the striking yellow, bringing out those hints of gold. You love the shape of them, the way his eyebrows furrow, that little line that forms above his nose when he’s so focused. You love how he can seem to command a room with his gaze alone.
His eyes are mesmerizing.
“How is it you can stare at me, yet request I avoid the same?”
His words send a shiver through you, one that strengthens as he turns that gaze briefly your way. His arm is is draped carefully across the back of the tavern booth, his fingers just brushing your shoulder.
You shrug and smile—just a little smile, the one you practiced because you know it secretly makes him pleased, even if smiling doesn’t come naturally to you.
“It’s not like I command you,” you tease, even as you draw your knees closer to your chest to better balance your sketchbook and lean slightly into him. You like sitting like this, both because it lets you naturally look away when he does decide to stare at you, and because you love the feeling of his nearness as you lean slightly into his side.
“Hmm.” He turns his gaze away. You quickly peak up at him and are pleased to see the slightest twitch to his own lips, a hint of his own smile.
He’ll never show it, not here in this tavern where every other person subtly watches him. But it’s there, and you’ve enjoyed drawing it out of him since you started working together as temporary partners. Especially since you started to be something more…
You turn back to your own work, drawing your fountain pen across the thick sketchbook paper.
A line here. A small adjustment there. You let yourself fall into the art, even as you listen to the conversations murmuring around you.
The din of voices can be overwhelming at times, painful even when so many noises echo together, but useful. You’ve learned ways to manage it, found tools to let you block out the sound when it’s too much and learned how to sort through the sounds when you do have the energy for it.  Now you sit and listen, letting your art pull you slightly away from it all, even as snippets of conversation come and go.
“…can’t believe that seller cheated me! I…”
“…Mihawk here…?”
“…will drink you under the table…”
“…think Garp sent him? Does he know we…”
You still your pen, glancing only slightly up from the page. That conversation was from not too far away. The targets.
“You noticed them too,” comments Mihawk, in that eternally bored, yet oh so confident tone.
“What now?” you ask, turning your gaze back to your sketchbook. “Capture them here or flush them out?”
If you were working alone, you would probably wait for them to leave on their own, then follow them and complete the mission once away from all the noise and bustle of the tavern. But it’s fun to work Mihawk’s way as well, to see just what it is that makes him so simultaneously feared and respected. You find it fascinating how he toys with his targets at times, as if a job is simply a game to him. 
“It has been quiet lately. A chase might be entertaining.”
You grin, even as you carefully try to capture a slight shimmer of light in your sketch. 
This is the part you find so fascinating.
The way he can inspire or horrify people with just a glance. The way he moves so carefully and intentionally through his work, even as he sometimes treats it as a way to relieve the boredom of being truly the best. The way he knows how good he is, knows his power and wears it like a cloak.
You know the moment he turns his gaze from a casual analysis of the room to a hunter spotting its prey. 
It’s in the slight gasps as that muted conversation staggers to a halt. The sharp sense of fear that drifts through the tavern. The way Mihawk’s intense gaze cuts straight through the crowded tables and towards the targets, even as everyone else breathes in relief that it’s not aimed at them.
You’ve done this just enough times now to know that soon your targets will try to leave, try to flee.
Then it will be time to act.
For now though, you enjoy leaning into your warlord, carefully drawing your pen across a sketchbook page as you capture the dangerous beauty of his vivid eyes.
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saiidahyunie · 15 days
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you in my heart 
chou tzuyu x f!reader 
synopsis: if i can keep myself close to cherish you, then my heart will forever be in your hands. 
warnings: fluff ; angst ? ; friends to lovers ; clc elkie and sana appear!
a/n: this fic is my creative writing lifeline soooooo :P
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chou tzuyu doesn’t like idiots. 
in the many years of her glorious friendship with you, tzuyu has watched, in all scopes, just how damn impatient you were about your decisions. she’s seen it all - whether it’s simply put in which you threw caution to the wind and helped tzuyu ditch school just for a quick detour to the beach as a way to cheer her up after the argument she had with her parents. 
(might to add, that happened in the one week of getting to know each other.) 
or, whether it would be the way tzuyu saw you drawing, once and decided that the route of art was the destination. better yet, the slight hitch of breath of your decision - last second- of moving in with tzuyu, on the day her lease was up for renewal. 
these many things between the fine lines of dumb and stupid could not have prepared tzuyu for this: 
you being settled on the floor with a dark red shirt that had a white minimal graphic with the name of the brand being something from your dad’s work, hair set off neatly off to the side with a hint of fringe peaking at the top, an apple juice box in your hands washing down the ritz crackers you swiped from the box, without knowing how it fans the flames in every one of tzuyu’s nerves. 
you look at tzuyu, holding your gaze, jaw moving with two chewed crackers in your mouth, before averting your eyes to the crushed juice box next to you. 
“tzuyu,” you say, fingers fast on the wrapper fishing out another cracker. “you’re not gonna eat?” 
tzuyu says nothing, only shaking her head before settling back against the leg of the sofa, crossing her arms against her chest. 
“tzuyu,” you whine, grabbing her wrist that had pinches of salt all over your fingertips, “why are you not saying anything?” 
as if tzuyu can ever ignore the constant pull that she feels towards you. 
“what’s going on?” tzuyu asks you now, knowing that nothing positive ever comes out of your mouth when she’s soaking in this tone that you’re presenting, voice breaking high and towards the end, as though you wouldn’t be able to breath right if tzuyu does not talk to you, or look at you. 
“you’re a girl right?” 
tzuyu blinks once, doe eyes out in the open space while she’s unable to guess the trajectory that this conversation might go. 
“yes, and?” 
you smile, bright and warm, tzuyu nudges closer until her knee touches your thigh. 
“cool! me too!” you say. “well, i don’t know, actually. but, the point is that i’ve never dated a girl before. have you?” 
tzuyu’s sexuality has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you without any real sense of words. you had always been perceptive, and when tzuyu’s eyes wandered on only at he women in the movies that she used to watch together with you during high school, you knew that your best friend was a lesbian, and squeezed her hand firmly to let her know that. 
it was never really discussed after that, until now. 
your sexuality, in tandem, has been acknowledged, conveyed, and accepted between the both of you devidating your realization through a sudden urge to declare the moment out loud on a random day. you tumbled your way onto tzuyu a week ago, holding her hands tight, screaming about how you barely realized that you were bisexual and how “everything makes so much sense to me!” 
ever since that day, tzuyu had to witness the only person she has loved even before she knew how to love someone else flirting with nearly everyone. she could only be supportive of her best friend’s journey up til this point. 
“i haven’t,” tzuyu replies. 
your face lights up, eyebrows arched and eyes wide open. “well, have you kissed another girl before?” 
tzuyu suddenly feels like she is neck deep in water that she’s not used to swimming in, struggling to keep herself afloat in her mind. “i…have.” 
your face beams more brighter than before it diminishes into the stark emptiness of the night after the flames on a bonfire slowly wither away. “hey,” you say. “you didn’t tell me about that, tzu! we’re besties, aren’t you supposed to tell me everything?” 
tzuyu scoots herself over to put a hand on your shoulder. “it was a long time ago,” she says. the world of sapphism was something beautiful to be apart of. seeing the pride parties to be an enlightenment of sorts while also pulling the heart in a more wrenching way. she wanted to belong there with the vast crowd of people but was also aware that she doesn’t want to put herself into that space, if it meant leaving your side. 
“it doesn’t really matter now.” 
“hey.” you say, scooting closer to match her. tzuyu’s hand lingers on your shoulder before letting go. “of course, it does. was it any good?” 
tzuyu doesn’t recall much from those separate experiences, let alone want to remember any from long ago. “yes, i think so. but it was like years since then, so it doesn’t matter.” 
“what makes you say that? why did you stop yourself? are you going to be kissing girls when we go to that pride party next week?” 
“i told you, y/n. it doesn’t matter. why are you even asking about this?” 
you have another smile spread across, hands moving up and down tzuyu’s arm, causing a ripple effect of goosebumps rising on the crook of her neck. “i have something to ask you.” 
when you pull your hands away, picking a cracker from the new stack you just opened, holding against tzuyu’s lips. 
when tzuyu makes no move to open her mouth, your encourage her by nodding despite becoming more and more doting and impatient (which was on brand for your antics). 
tzuyu merely holds it against her teeth, unwilling to take a bit nor choke on the bit after your request. 
you take a deep breath, and twine your hands with hers, looking into her eyes steadily. 
“i want you to kiss me.” 
these several plus years of friendship that tzuyu will never get enough of, tired was also out of the question. nothing could’ve prepared her for the opportunity of hearing those words that deeply carve out one of the core instincts that she has been fighting to keep within. 
the cracker falls out of tzuyu’s mouth.
you, on the other hand, face full of optimism and hope immediately replaced with frowns from the fallen cracker sitting on tzuyu’s lap, picking it up. your fingers brush against her hip bone, and tzuyu suppresses a gasp. 
also, you’re oblivious to tzuyu’s inner crisis, looking at the cracker before biting it, in the same spot more than a third of the cracker is caught between your teeth. 
“what are you saying?” 
“i want you to kiss me.” you say, seriously, after chewing the last part of the cracker that will haunt tzuyu’s dreams for the coming decades. 
“why?” 
“do people need a reason to kiss each other, tzuyu?” 
“when the people in the problem set are one’s best friends, then of course.” 
you sigh, troubled. “fine,” you say, not willing to look up from where you fidget with the ripped wrapper of the cracker stack. “you got me. i have a date with a girl this weekend and i have never kissed a girl, ever. i want it to be good for her. you’ve kissed a girl, and i want you to assess me.” 
“assess you?” 
nodding to tzuyu’s question. “i want it to be good for her, tzu! besides, you’re one of the few people that i trust the most. i want you to kiss me and tell me how it is. now are you gonna help me?” 
a few seconds of silence pass that the weight of it envelops every fabric and cell of their being, you begin to fiddle with the hem of your shirt, a habit that you procured in times of nervousness. 
“forget it,” you say abruptly. “i know that sana has kissed girls before. i’ll ask her—” 
“no!”
“no?” 
“no,” tzuyu says, holding your face between her soft hands. “i’ll do it,” she says. “i’ll help you with this.” 
you taste like a wintergreen mint. 
tzuyu tilts her head up, one hand spread across the back of your neck, the other, holding your chin so that she can deepen the kiss, until tzuyu herself begins to taste the minty aroma and feel like stardust. 
tzuyu also should’ve been keeping an open ear to the cautionary tune her heart laid out in front of her. her mind should’ve also said the same thing the way her brain racked the sole idea of kissing you for practice. nothing good would come out of this. you will kiss another girl sometime this weekend and many other girls after that, but tzuyu is weak and in love and can’t fathom not kissing you, not when you asked it yourself. 
your arms are coiled around tzuyu’s long neck, pulling her closer than ever before, even though the meters between the two of you now are only separated by the thin layers of clothes. gently trailing her fingers from your chin to your neck and waist, tzuyu hauls you up until you settle on her lap. 
the both of you break apart for a second, your eyes with a glint to them, dazed, glossy pink lips still parted, bodies molding together oh-so perfectly. 
it was you who kissed tzuyu for the first time, so tzuyu takes it upon herself to press your forehead with hers, chasing your lips for more. the kiss itself is less frantic and more gentle, taking her time skimming her hands across your back, tilting your head towards her, trailing your hands every single spot possible in the hopes of grasping something. eventually, you fingers are in her hair, taking apart the ponytail and running your fingers through it again. 
love me, tzuyu mouths out while she kisses you. love me, only me, no one else, just me. 
tzuyu’s lips find your jaw, feathery kisses until she meets the fork where your ear and neck meet. you let out a small noise from the bottom of your throat and tzuyu wants to have it all, to revel in it, keep it close to herself in her heart for the eons of years to pass. she finds her way to your neck, and the idea of marking you, to show the mystery girl that you’ll see know that she was here first, and with the premonition that she’ll stay with you forever–
under the crook of your neck, in the palms of your hands, hooked on your ribs as if the set numbers were like lifelines; anywhere, wherever you see fit. 
when you two finally break apart this time, you open your eyes, blinking rapidly to erase the remnants of the daze that was clouding the both of you, smiling softly that tzuyu thinks she’s in a dream. although, it wouldn’t be the first time that she’s dreamt something dangerously real, can’t accept the facts. 
but your body is warm between tzuyu’s palms, floral scent draping all of her sense. you were as real as you can be. tzuyu feels nervous with the pricks
of sweat coating her neck, heart rate struggling to keep calm inside her chest, threatening to break free from the cages. 
in her dreams, your eyes wouldn’t suddenly widen in disbelief, you wouldn’t clutch onto tzuyu’s shoulders, not willing to meet tzuyu’s eyes after that. 
a block forms, tugging from the depths of tzuyu’s chest. 
“y/n,” tzuyu asks, voice horse. “did i go too far?” 
you snap your eyes towards tzuyu, in fact not meeting her eyes, rapidly shaking your head. “no, not at all.” you answer, tone shrill. “but a–, that was—was really good.” 
finally meeting tzuyu’s eyes, your face swept in a vibrant pink. 
“that was?” 
you, in a flurry of sudden actions, pat tzuyu’s hair to flatten it, pinching her cheek, before breaking apart the bubble of a minty fulfilled dream that just happened a few seconds ago. “is that even a question?” you ask, licking your lips. “kissing girls is so different from kissing boys,” you say. “i liked this a lot. was it, um, w-was it good for you?” 
“what are you talking about?” tzuyu laughs, seeing a smile on your face. “you’re a good kisses,” she says, trying to be as objective as she can. this was a test, an experiment after all. not an outcry of feelings. “you know what you’re doing, so it won’t be bad for you this weekend when you go. i’m sure of that.” 
standing up, you pat down your shirt and sweatpants, saying, “okay good, i’m—i’m happy that it was good for you because it was good for me, clearly, and i–shoot—i should probably—” 
you don’t spare tzuyu another glance, running off to your room, the slam of the door echoed through the walls. 
tzuyu just sits there, back against the leg of the sofa, the half-eaten stack of crackers and empty glasses of water on the table, enthralling her attention as if they were people who just witnessed something out in public. her head hits the cushion behind her, clenching the scream wanting to be unleashed from inside her. 
for the reminder of how reality works in this world, things will–not remain the same between her and you. the air was already heavy with tension, anchored with tzuyu’s feeling, suspended in time with the words captive in the nooks and cracks of her body. 
tzuyu will have to learn how to live with the knowledge of how you taste, the small noises you make, the way your face shapes when her mouth is on yours, eyes closed as you chase tzuyu’s mouth like it was the last thing you had to do. 
she doesn’t know how to recover from this information. 
the two of you don’t talk about it. 
few days pass, and tzuyu leaves her pottery class. you arrive a few hours after you were sure that tzuyu was asleep. 
(she wasn’t asleep. in fact, she was waiting for you to come home. only able to fully rest when the sound of the door opening and closing, the soft sounds of your feet hitting the wood in and around the house.)
you and tzuyu have a thursday class together in music theory, sharing a shaken look between each other when the paths cross to the living room.
“you wanna leave together?” you ask, strangely nervous with a pensive look on your face. 
tzuyu nods her head, and that was it. 
you two don’t talk about it still, because there’s nothing to be discussed. 
after dinner, tzuyu finds herself going along to being kissed by you again. more practice never hurt anybody, or anyone for that matter. 
tzuyu slides in her bed with a heavy heat, lips aflame with the phantom stir of yours on them. 
it’s okay, she thinks. it’s gonna be okay. i’ll be okay. 
“you’re leaving?” tzuyu asks you on saturday, realizing in a manner that your date was today. a date, the whole reason you kissed tzuyu. 
you look dashing, transcendent beyond existence. tzuyu loves you so much. 
nervously, you start messing with the flimsy fabric of your dress pants, “i am,” you say, “did you want something?” 
“no,” tzuyu lies, heart clogging her throat. 
you take a step closer, breaking the bubble around tzuyu. “did you want to say something?” 
“no,” tzuyu lies again, heart in her hands. 
“okay then.” you say, “i’ll be going now.” 
“okay.” tzuyu replies. “have fun on your date.” 
something omniscient falls over the ever-constant glow on your face. “i will, i’m sure of it.” 
tzuyu feels her pulse accelerate, hands clenching and unclenching in succession. there’s so much that she wants to blurt out. so much that will ruin the close friendship that she has with you. but being selfish isn’t the way to go, the risk that is carried by making her feelings your problems too. 
it’ll be fine, tzuyu tells herself. this will pass too. she’s fine, she’s okay, she’s breathing—and if she keeps beating it down her being, maybe her heart won’t feel like it’s being trampled on. 
everything will be okay, this will all work out in the end. 
“something is wrong,” sana begins, eating her french fry, the same evening when she invites herself to tzuyu’s home with a bag of food and snacks. “you’re not okay.” 
“everything is great!” tzuyu says, chasing down her words with half of a boba drink. “and, i am okay.” 
sana’s eyes narrow suspiciously. “it’s not really you to lie in front of my face.” 
“i need you to stop prying.” 
“is it because y/n’s on that date right now?” 
“sana, i’m fine.” 
“shut up, it is, isn’t it?!”
“sana!”
“okay, i’ll stop,” sana says, raising her hands in surrender. “i believe you. everything is okay and you are doing fine.” 
you don’t offer more information about your date other than just saying, “we should go watch that one movie together, tzuyu.” 
tzuyu doesn’t even bother asking either. 
two days after, you come bearing another tempting proposition that steals tzuyu’s breath away—literally. 
“that one barista from the cafe we regularly go to asked me out,” you say, already straddling tzuyu’s lap. “i didn’t kiss that girl from saturday and i think i’m a little iffy about my–technique. can you help me with it again?”
tzuyu tears down the banners of doubts in her mind, providing her mouth pressing against yours, feeling like the can finally breath now after not being able to for so long. 
she doesn’t bother asking you about it, again. 
more and more kisses are being shared in the days leading up to your date. always in the evening, an hour before going to bed.
tzuyu finds out all the different ways in which you like being kissed. even though an unspoken boundary between them is crossed past the point of rational thinking. she finds herself putting up a boundary before it becomes all too much, too fast. like her soul feels like it’s being robbed of once those walls are up, but it’s okay. 
tzuyu tells herself that it’s okay. she will live through this. 
she’s fine, and everything’s gonna be okay. 
when you come back from the date, drunk, the sleep is immediately left from tzuyu’s body, and she’s alert, awake on the sofa. she puts her book and the small blanket back in their places, walking over to help you remove your shoes and find your way back into the house.
you look at tzuyu with a blearily smile, holding onto her waist tightly. “hi,” you say, grinning. 
“hi,” tzuyu greets back, holding onto you as you’re sliding on the floor, head lolling back on the head of the sofa. “are you alright?” 
“amazing!” you answer, giddy. 
“how was your date?” 
tzuyu blinks one eye open, grinning sarcastically. “oh? you didn’t ask me how it went the last time. this is a sign.” 
“you didn’t tell me anything either,” tzuyu also points out. 
you sigh, slumping your head on tzuyu’s toned shoulder. “true,” you mumble. “i guess it was okay.” 
“just okay?” 
tzuyu feels you nodding your head. “i am so tired, tzu!” you whine, nudging your head closer. tzuyu suppresses a shudder as she feels your eyelids fluter closed against her neck. “i’m gonna fall asleep right here, okay?” 
“that’s okay,” tzuyu says, pressing her fingertips into your scalp, just the way that you like it. 
“you’re the best,” you mumble again, sounding half-asleep. “do you know that? you’re the very best, tzu.” 
tzuyu doesn’t know how to respond without revealing the very depth of everything she feels about you. 
“i guess,” your whisper is like a knife through the curtain of silence between the two of you. “i guess the problem is that no one is you. they don’t kiss the way that you do.” 
tzuyu’s heart stops. “y/n, what do you mean?” 
“y/n?” 
a lack of a reply prompts tzuyu to thread her fingers through your hair, gently tapping your shoulder. “y/n.” she softly calls. “don’t you know to not say things like this to me?” she whispers too, confident that you were asleep. your breath steady, head heavy. 
you mumble something closely incoherent, and your head sags into tzuyu’s chest. 
despite the tumultuous beat of her heart, tzuyu finds herself smiling, as she cradles your head, hoping that laying on her lap would be more comfortable for you, and drapes the blanket over your legs. 
“that’s the issue with me, too.” tzuyu says while palming your hair. “i guess i stopped kissing other people because they weren’t you. i wish i could stop looking for you in every person that i meet.” 
it’s not like tzuyu was not aware of the happy hour event that’s regularly held at that one bar that the friend group usually ends up in at a night like this, but it’s just that she didn’t care enough about it, especially after living for about three months in a new city. 
two days after you realized that you were bisexual, you looked at the poster that announced the party for the lgbtq community happening on a friday night well off into the new semester with a newfound excitement. “we should go here!” you shrieked while pointing at the poster. “i didn’t even know that this was a thing.” 
“it’s a thing alright,” tzuyu answers, resigning herself to the fate of ending up at that party, especially a few weeks before happening. 
“have you ever been to a party like this?” 
“not a lot, but a few.” tzuyu replies. “they’re interesting.” and unfamiliar, because they’re loud and crowded. the heavy bass of music blasting through the speakers, making her heart match to the beat of the rhythm. 
“well, you should show me around then!” you had said, and that was it. 
now, about a little over three weeks or so after tzuyu first made out with her best friend only to help you practice for dates with people that weren’t tzuyu, standing in front of the said best friend, trying to obviously leer at your appearance. 
you were wearing a white crop top shirt with ripped jeans layered with a black leather jacket. this outfit in particular had been printed in tzuyu’s brain since she saw you wear it for the first time—and a one piece dress
you catch tzuyu looking and wink. “what? i look good, don’t i?” 
‘good’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, but tzuyu nods, nonetheless. 
bounding up with tzuyu, arms interlocked together. “thank you!” you exclaim. “you have to look great too! when did you buy this blouse?” you ask, gesturing at tzuyu’s outfit. “i have to borrow it one day,” you say, as you make your way outside the house, head resting on tzuyu’s shoulder.
“okay,” tzuyu readily agrees despite it being her favorite blouse and your tendency to not return her clothes after ‘borrowing’ them. 
the club is crowded by the time you reach there—full of people that tzuyu recognizes the way gay people tend to recognize each other across the campus, and those she does not. 
your face is set with an ever-present grin, taking in the clamour and infecting excitement of energy that’s radiating of all the people here. all eyes were on you and you just seem to bask in it, but your eyes were on tzuyu. there’s a low glo to you. the only person glowing in a sea of people. tzuyu is so in love with you that it aches, it aches, and it aches. 
“let’s dance!” you yell over the sound of the booming music. 
tzuyu is pulled into your arms the minute she agrees to it. sinking into your arms as though she always belonged there should be weird, tzuyu thinks. it’s supposed to be weird, especially because you and her couldn’t even look at each other until a few days ago, until you came back home drunk and slept on tzuyu’s lap. 
but it isn’t. this feels as natural as breathing, normal like your heart beating, the sun rising, the world turning painstakingly slow. 
colorful lights dance on your face as you pull tzuyu close, hands curling around her neck. tzuyu, helplessly in love, holding you by the waist and sways with some sense of rhythm to the music. 
you pull tzuyu closer, so that her ear is met with your lips. “is this how it always is?” 
“i think so,” tzuyu replies. save for a few strobe lights, the night seems the same as it always does. it must feel different for you though. “how do you feel?” tzuyu asks, resting her chin on your shoulder. 
“good!” you cheer. “like, i didn’t even know that there were so many of us here! i truly believed that it would be less crowded. in fact, it is more.”
tzuyu nods, clutching her hands tighter around your waist. 
you sway and dance together, sometimes following the rhythm of the songs blasting out of the subwoofers, and the other times creating your own rhythm entirely, but that doesn’t matter. 
what matters to tzuyu—at this moment and all the others that have happened and will—is this; your bright smile reserved only for her, your warm hands around hers, your feet falling in step with her, your laughter when you dip down into her, or the high pitched call of her name that makes her twirl in her mind, the gaze fixated on her lips, the grasp on her heart: for now and always forever (in hope) will be you. and only you.
you and tzuyu break apart when you loudly demand that you’re thirsty and need a drink. tzuyu, helpless to do anything else, clutches your hand and makes you follow, even though she can’t wade through the crowd of strangers by the bar. 
tzuyu is grateful that the thump of the music in this area is a lot less, deciding on standing a few feet away, looking at you valiantly finding her way towards the bartender, jumping only when she feels a tap against her shoulder. 
elkie, one of the other friends that tzuyu is very familiar with, perhaps a year her senior, stands across her with a broad smile on her lips. 
“it’s been so long since i saw you here,” she says, stepping closer. “how are you doing?” 
“good,” tzuyu replies with a smile. “how bout you?” 
the music picks up in volume where they are, causing them to stand closer which isn’t entirely ideal, but it’s alright. elkie is good company, and tzuyu doesn’t mind. 
“are you looking for someone?” elkie asks, when she notices tzuyu look into the crowd of people at the bar station trying to see someone in a black leather jacket. “do you want me to help you find them?” 
“just my friend.” tzuyu replies, turning towards elkie. “she went in to get drinks for us and hasn’t come out yet.” 
elkie laughs. “she’ll come back, i’m sure. but tell me about you, tzuyu. are you dating someone?” 
tzuyu darts her eyes away from elkie. “i’m not actually, no.” 
elkie eyes brighten. “well, if that’s the case, call me if you want? you do have my number, right?” 
tzuyu blinks, before the realization dawns on her. “oh,” she says. “no.” she replies, turning towards elkie. 
“elkie, i—” 
elkie’s eyes widen with an understanding. “ah, you’re not seeing someone, but you do like someone,” she infers. tzuyu doesn’t say anything, only turning sideways to the crowd in which you have disappeared to. “yeah,” she replies, looking back at elkie.
she nods, gently holding tzuyu’s shoulders. “i get that,” elkie says. “i hope you figure it out, whatever that may be.” 
“thank you.” 
elkie smiles back, and plants a kiss on the corner of tzuyu’s mouth. “i think i saw someone i didn’t want to see, so i’m gonna run now,” she says. “don’t be a stranger, okay? let’s meet up for some lunch sometime—as friends, of course.” 
tzuyu smiles, patting her back neatly. “i will.” 
elkie excuses herself, walking swiftly past tzuyu, vanishing into the crowd. 
out of a bad habit set in the last fifteen minutes or so, tzuyu looks sideways to the crowd that you had ventured into, only to meet your distraught face. 
your face even turns furious when tzuyu meetes your eyes, but the undercurrent of hurt is open and raw. tzuyu instantly takes a step forward by instinct, wondering what caused it, relizing that you must’ve seen elkie kissing her cheek for this anger to be directed at tzuyu. but it shouldn’t bother you as much as it did—because why would it, it’s not like you to be jealous, because that would imply that you like—
huh. 
“you were here with me.” you shout over the music, steamrolling over close enough for tzuyu to see the shimmer on your skin. “we came here together.” 
“y/n—”
“if you dont’ like me back,” you start, shoulders dipping down in defeat. 
well, shit. 
tzuyu’s body breaks at that. 
“if you don’t like me back, then just say it instead of making me witness whatever the hell i just saw,” you say, drinking the entirety of the fizzy orange behemoth of a drink that was in your hand in one swig, and slamming tzuyu’s shot glass on the table. 
tzuyu finds you leaning against someone’s car, staring up at the sky. 
she wordlessly covers your exposed shirt with the leather jacket you dropped on the way out of the club. 
“that was elkie,” tzuyu breaks the silence. “she’s one of the few people that i know from coming to these parties. i guess we somewhat keep in touch now. we don’t like each other romantically. never, no.” 
you blink, while looking at her, nodding while fixing your leather jacket to fit it more better on your shoulders. 
“tzuyu,” you say. “what i said before—”
“is it true? tzuyu asks, urgency seeping in her words by the millisecond. “do you truly like me?” 
you look at tzuyu, broken. “i wore this outfit for you,” you say again. “i hate stiff leather.” 
tzuyu looks at you again, out of depth completely. 
“i hate this jacket but i love the way you look at me when i wear it. so i wore it today, with you. the only person i could see in this crowd today was you, tzuyu,” you say. “i came up with a silly, stupid excuse to kiss you. so you tell me if what i said was true or not.” 
“a stupid excuse?” 
“i didn’t have any dates,” you laugh without levity. “i had people asking me out, yes, but i couldn’t agree because they’re not you, tzuyu. the only person i want to go on a date with. the only person i want to kiss and be kissed is by you. so i lied to your face and told you that i wanted to practice. i made up with a terrible excuse to kiss you that doesn’t even make sense because i thought you could, maybe like me back too! and it really felt like you did, but then i see that and-”
“i like you.” 
you stop your train of thought from the sentence that just came out of tzuyu’s lips. “what did you say?” 
“i like you too,” tzuyu says, as rushed as she could say. “i like you so much. so, so much. it’s—” 
“you…what!?” you jolt with unbridled astonishment, crying, turning to grab tzuyu by the shoulders.
“why do you think i kept kissing you?” tzuyu asks with ardor. “i liked you too much to say no. i just—i couldn’t. and i wanted to go on dates with you and kiss you without having a reason, but i just couldn’t.” 
a bitter laugh leaves your lips, head hung down while you kick your sneakers into the asphalt. 
“you could—you could have,” you say, nodding in fervor. “you could have. i really, really wanted you to.” 
“i just didn’t know,” tzuyu says, regretfully, cupping your face. “and i’m sorry that i didn’t.”
your eyes flutter shut. “well, you do now.” you say. “you know that i like you. i like you so, so much, tzu.” 
“you know that i like you too. so, so much.” 
your eyes open again, teasing a glint quite apparent. “so, what are you going to do with this information, then?” you ask.
tzuyu, with her heart fluttering endlessly in her chest, brings you closer. with eyes closed, you meet tzuyu in the middle. 
you taste like beer, candy blossoms, and heaven. you taste like everything that tzuyu wanted, everything that tzuyu could ever want or need in her life. 
i love you, tzuyu mouths into yours as she kisses you. i love you, love you, love you. 
when you eventually break apart, a smile sprays across your lips, leaning in close, foreheads pressed together, one of tzuyu’s hands on your chest, right where the heart is patting frantically. “i love you, tzu.” 
another kiss is shared again, this time more slowly as the both of you took in the taste of exchanging lips, not wanting to ever pull away. it’s just you and tzuyu, entrapped in that silly little world that you and her have built around for so many years, now elevated to a new echelon. 
chou tzuyu doesn't like idiots.
but there was something about being with you as an idiot that makes it tolerable to deal with, and she doesn't mind that.
brushing your lips against tzuyu’s, you’re giggling and she follows. 
“i’ll embrace you like this, forever.” 
202 notes · View notes
eggroll-sama · 19 days
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Who’s My Roommate?
The Touchstarved cast are at a hotel and can’t decide who will be their roommates. Some are against certain pairings. You don’t really care, but they seem they’ve got a few colorful opinions || Touchstarved LI x reader. All of them have a crush on you, but you’re oblivious. I had this in my drafts for a while but I finally got the motivation to finish it. Just light-hearted shenanigans. Sorry if there are any typos!
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“I don’t want Leander,” said Vere, his arms crossed and glaring at the man across from him.
They didn’t think deciding on rooming buddies would be so hard. There were exactly three rooms, side by side, and anyone who knew basic math understood there would be two people per room. The problem was, who and who?
Vere and Ais were the first pairing that came to mind. But then Mhin complained that they didn’t want to hear them having sex at two in the morning. You and Kuras could sympathize so argued that, no, Vere and Ais cannot be together in the same room. Vere was angry, Ais was indifferent. He preferred Vere’s company over others, but as long as he didn’t get Mhin he was fine. He found the idea of Mhin aiming a knife to his neck fun, but in the end he didn’t want to deal with them pestering him like a fly.
And then there was Leander. If they went off the reason of not wanting to hear someone having sex, then Leander was tough. He had had sex with half of the members in the group: Ais, Mhin, and (maybe) Vere. You still didn’t really know if they did it or not.
“I wouldn’t mind sleeping in the same room as Leander,” you said. Everyone stiffened except for the man in question, who had a cocky smile on his face. Secretly, everyone wanted to room with you, but they didn’t want to admit it.
Kuras stepped in before Leander could make a comment, and steered the conversation to possibly drawing sticks so it would be fair for everyone and well, not everyone was happy with their partners. Vere got Leander, Mhin got Ais, and you got Kuras. You weren’t against Kuras being your roommate; he was a gentleman and minded his own business. He didn’t seem like he was against rooming with you either. The others were not so happy with their results.
“I’m not rooming with a monster,” Mhin spat, venom lacing their words, glaring holes in the back of Ais’ head.
Ais ignored them, while Vere rolled his eyes.
“Oh yeah, well nobody wants to deal with an annoying midget like you. I think you forgot to pack your booster seat.”
Vere snickered as Mhin’s face turned red from anger.
“Hey hey now hold on, MC said that they were fine with rooming with me, so why not just leave the two of us out of it?” Leander said, arms snaking around your shoulder.
“No, you soft penis numbskull. You’re not rooming with MC.” Mhin stepped in. When the others looked at Mhin curiously, they coughed nervously and looked away.
You tried to lighten the mood with a joke, “Ais and Leander are best friends. We should room them together.”
The corner of Leander’s smile frayed at your joke. Ais narrowed his eyes at you. At least Vere was laughing, probably at you for your failed attempt to lighten the mood, but at least he laughed. You drew into yourself. You’ve forgotten the others were getting quite annoyed by the arguing. This was serious business that might mean life or death.
“How about we draw sticks again?” You suggested meekly, trying to move past the awkwardness.
“No, it’s just a waste of time,” intervened Vere, “we all clearly have our preferences, so how about we list anyone we don’t want to room with? I go first. I hate all four of you, fortunately, so I’m going to room with Ais or no one.”
“I don’t have a preference,” said Leander with a blush.
“We know,” Vere rolled his eyes.
“At this point let’s just room the two people that are the doormats of this group, Leander and Vere. It’s the easiest way to deal with them,” said Mhin.
“Or how about we room Leander in one room and Vere in the other one, and then we all share the last one,” you suggest. At this point you were running out of ideas and throwing them out randomly hoping you would hit a jackpot.
“I’m not invited to the foursome? That is unfortunate to hear,” Vere said.
“It’s getting too complicated. Room Vere with MC, Mhin with Leander, and me and Kuras. That should be good,” suggested Ais, getting impatient.
“I’m afraid that would be endangering MC’s safety,” said Kuras coolly, ignoring Vere’s exasperated reaction.
He quickly switched to his flirty demeanor, a coy smile on his lips, “Oh, but I don’t bite. Unless they ask me.” Mhin scoffed in the background. Kuras was expressionless. If he reacted to Vere’s tasteless innuendos, he would give the fox exactly what he wanted. So he stayed quiet and didn’t let his face give anything away.
“I agree with Kuras on this one. A bloody, mangled corpse is the last thing we want to deal with,” said Mhin. Though Mhin said this, you knew that they cared about your safety.
Ais sighed in defeat, pulling out a cigarette and a match, “I’m going out for a smoke.” You couldn’t blame him, they’ve been arguing for the past thirty minutes. Ais walked off to the entrance of the hotel.
Seeing Ais walk off, Vere waved their fingers before sauntering off in the same direction.
“The dog went to take a walk with it’s owner. Good grief,” said Mhin.
“We still need to get this rooming situation settled. I’m sure the others won’t mind if we decided without them,” said Kuras.
He sighed, “From what I’ve observed, the best rooming pairs seems like the fox and Ais, Mhin and MC, and Leander and I. We’ll take the middle room, Mhin and MC take the left, and Vere and Ais the right. That way Mhin wouldn’t be disturbed from any unnecessary sounds at night.”
“I could live with that,” said Mhin.
Leander didn’t seem too pleased with the end-result, but he wasn’t going to complain, “Alright. Guess I get to room with the good doctor tonight. Hey, maybe we can finally get some dinner, you and I.”
“Perhaps,” said Kuras, but from his indifferent expression and hollow tone it sounded more like a no.
“Ah,” was all Leander said. You could see the cogs turning behind his eyes. Then, he pulled out a deck of cards from his pocket, “I brought cards with me. Anyone wanna play Poker in an hour or two, our room?”
You smiled, “I like Poker. Bet I could beat you,” you nudged his shoulder teasingly.
“Sure.” Leander said with a laugh, but the way he said it almost sounded…condescending? You raised your brows, but before you could fully process it, Leander had already started speaking, “Would the doctor like to join as well?”
Must’ve been my imagination.
“I suppose if you are going to play in our room, I could join for a game or two.”
Kuras reply seemed to brighten Leander’s mood from the thinly-veiled rejection for dinner a few seconds ago.
“Great! How about you Mhin!”
“I’m tired.” Mhin grabbed their bags and started heading for the elevator, ignoring Leander’s invitation. You saw Leander’s smile falter.
“I’ll try convincing them,” you whispered to Leander who gave you an appreciative smile.
You had the keys to the room, so after saying goodbye to the other two, quickly followed after your small companion.
“I’m glad I get to room with you, Mhin,” you said while waiting for the elevator with them.
Mhin huffed at your words, turning away, “Right.” In the corner of your eyes you could see their pale skin get pinker just a tad. You smiled to yourself at their reaction. You weren’t really sure what the rest of the day will entail, but at least you were able to get through the hurdle of deciding who will be your roommate.
217 notes · View notes
loolingz · 2 months
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soft phone sex with gojo, might be a little ooc, 1.2k words <3 looli revival!!
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“are you alone?”
when the conversations start like this so late in the night, you know what’s about to happen. still, it does manage to cut you off guard- even just a little bit. so you weren’t able to hide the hitch in your breath very well. just like he wasn’t able to hide the low, low chuckle that followed immediately after your quiet admission of guilt. you know him too well. and he, you. 
“maybe” you draw out, voice light and airy and playful as you respond into the phone. he laughs again at your attempt to play coy because you both know what you’re doing. it’s the same thing every single time. you both know that you’re taking the phone and the line and sitting on the edge of your shared bed- the one that always feels so empty and cold when he has to stay away from home for a night or two. you both know that right now, you’re listening very, very carefully for the pitter-patter of tiny feet or the quiet creaking of the bedroom, hoping you don’t have any uninvited young guest scampering around past their bedtime. “are you alone?”
and you both know that you’re now lifting up the edges of your nightgown and slipping your panties down to your ankles now that you know that the coast is clear and your husband’s loving voice is purring in your ear.
“you know I am, sweetheart .” he hums at the sound of your sultry voice and the call of his title in such a lewd manner. and you’re almost too ashamed to admit just how turned on a few words make you. but you can’t help it. it hasn’t even been that long yet, and you already miss him. your body- the parts now being uncovered in the chilly air of your bedroom longs for his touch. goosebumps are already littering your skin and your nipples are perking up and pebbling. almost as if he was here, right beside you. ready to keep you warm, and safe, and most of all? “are you touching yourself for me?”
keeping you loved.
you smile into the phone as you opt not to rely at first. instead, you decide to lie back on the bed. letting the familiar smell of his side of the comforter surround you as your body makes contact. the phone line tugs and stretches a little bit as you bring it with you. but you’re able to bring it up to your ear and tuck it in your shoulder all nice and snug without too much trouble. And with you let yourself get comfortable. hiking up your legs and placing your feet flat on top of the bed. drawing up your nightgown even further. and resting your hand in the valley between your breasts and letting your hands move around on their own. touching your breasts. brushing your fingers against your skin. like you wish he could. like you  know  he would. if only he was here.  if only, if only.
“maybe I am, ” You say into the phone, repeating the same sing-songy tone that you had on earlier as your smile grows just a teensy bit more. “maybe I’m not.”
almost instantly, you hear a sigh. on the other side of the phone, you know gojo is getting a little impatient with you. you don’t blame him too. you know how hard he trains. and you can imagine just how long of a day he’s had. barking orders at those who never seem to listen. the training he endures that never seems to end. and so many more things that you know you’re not privy to, especially after his climb in the ranks. but you can’t help it. you just can’t help it. he left you alone here. alone on the bed. alone, alone, alone with only his voice to comfort you. 
so of course you were going to give a little tease. just a little one, at least. because it’s only natural. because it’s only fair. because he’s doing it to you right now. 
just letting you hear the sound of his voice and not the warmth of his hands. 
“sweetheart, ” he calls out to you through the phone, voice strained and breathing a little tighter than before. out of instinct, you find yourself licking at your lips and biting them as the hand on your chest slowly travels down, and down, and down. you know the sounds that follow after all too well. the rustling of clothes. the quiet clinking of metal. the soft groans. it’s telling.  too  telling. the hidden neediness in his voice. the subtle way he begs with just the call of a nickname.  your  nickname. it’s telling. because you know him just as well as he knows you. “i need you to touch yourself for me.  please .”
because you know him.
and because you know him so well, you  know  that he’s gotten started without you. you can just tell. he has already gotten started without you. maybe it was while the phone was ringing. maybe it was while you were still talking- still  teasing  him. maybe it was even before he decided to call you. But you can just  tell . that he’s already pulled down his trousers. that he’s already pulled out free his cock. and that the sounds you heard were him freeing himself even further from the confines of his clothesand his determination to be the best striker. because more than his resolve, he wants you. he  needs  you. he  misses  you. as much as you feel all those same things for him.
and suddenly you don’t  want  to be a tease. suddenly you don’t want to make a big show about touching every part of your body except that he wants you to- that you  need  to- the most. suddenly you realize that you just want what you wanted all along.
him.  
“I am…” you tell him in a rush, just as your fingers find some of the wetness pooling in between your legs. you swipe it- coating some of your fingers tips with your own arousal and go immediately for your clit. you draw a sharp breath, feeling your own sense of neediness crop up now that you’re touching the most sensitive part of your body. but you don’t want to stop there. so you don’t. you reach out your other hand and take a fistful of one of your boobs. grip firm and tight like the way satoru does to you. you squeeze at it before moving your fingers along to play with your nipples. pinching them and rolling them so carefully between two fingers that it starts getting your hips shifting and your voice rising in a way that you imagine is unbefitting of a young woman. but you don’t care anymore. you don’t. because right now? you just want to close your eyes. you just want to block all sound. but most of all? “ I am, toru…I’m touching myself….all for you .”
you just want to focus on him.
“all for me, sweetheart?” 
because maybe if you focus hard enough. maybe if you imagine hard enough.
“a-all of you.”
if you  wish  hard enough.
“there’s my good girl. ”
then maybe the warmth you’re feeling now will start to feel it does when he’s the one touching you.
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junkdrawerfics · 1 year
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Not So Simple Moments
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Some of you requested a part 2 to "Simple Moments" so this is that! It's not what I planned, but I like it and I hope you do too!
Summary: You decide it's time to broach the topic of you being turned with Jasper. He really doesn't want to talk about it, but you're both adults and you love each other, so you talk about it.
Word Count: 1362
Warnings: nothing serious, mostly a little bit of angst and fluff
---
“Alice says you’re going to turn me,” you mention offhandedly as you run your fingers through Jasper’s hair, sectioning off a few pieces before starting a braid.
The blond stiffens where he’s sat in front of you. When you invited him over to watch Wall-e, this was certainly not what he was expecting. 
“Alice says a lot of things,” he murmurs slowly, keeping his eyes trained on the rusty, little robot on the screen.
Out of all the movies you’ve made him watch, this one seems to feel oddly familiar. It’s much like your story. Him, an old creature, obviously out of place in this world, falling irrevocably for something so sweet and fiery like the white robot, like you. Being terrified of letting you go. Terrified of you getting hurt.
Pinning the braid to the back of his head, you move to the other side of his temple and quietly ask, “What do you say about it?”
Jasper takes a deep, unnecessary breath, his next word slow, hesitant to roll off his tongue, “Darlin’...”
You press your lips together. That's a familiar tone. It’s the one he uses when he wants to avoid a conversation. You need to talk about this though. 
“Does it scare you?” You ask, voice still soft as you twist the strands together.
The blond is silent for a moment. The only sound in the room is the soft music of the movie, and you hum along as you tie off the braid and pin it with the other, forming a little crown around his head. You know he’s thinking, trying to figure out exactly what to say, he just needs the time.
Fondly, you curl your arms around Jasper’s shoulders and give him a soft squeeze. You’d wait a million years for him, if that’s what he needs, and that feeling must rub off on the vampire, because he leans into your embrace, rigidness slipping away.
“I don’t understand you, darlin’,” Jasper drawls, tilting his head a fraction to look at you. You press a gentle kiss to his lips, drawing a familiar, slanted grin from him. “I’ve lived 161 years and never met anyone like you.”
“You’re avoiding my question, Jas,” you chastise, despite the blush dusting your cheeks, “Don’t think you can distract me with your southern charm.”
“You don’t think it’ll work?” Those amber eyes gleam with mischief as he beams up at you.
“Not today, cowboy.” You carefully ruffle his hair before straightening up and letting yourself be a little more serious. “I think we should talk about this, Jas. It’s important to me.”
Jasper’s brow furrows, all too aware of how truthful you’re being. Pushing himself up from the floor, he settles down next to you on the bed. He leaves a respectful gap between you, just a handful of inches, but it feels like a chasm, so you scoot closer and take his hand. Jasper instinctively intertwines them, his thumb brushing tenderly over your knuckles, and it just feels right.
“Does it scare you?” You ask again, voice practically a whisper.
“Which part?”
“Either?” You analyze Jasper’s face, searching for any clue of what he might be thinking, but his features are carefully blank. The buzz of nerves in your chest only worsen at that. “Do you want me to turn?”
“Yes.”
You let out a heavy breath. The single word eases every sliver of doubt you’ve been carrying the past few weeks, and he can feel it.
“It would be nice to not want to kill you, darlin’,” Jasper jokes (only partially) with a small smirk as he brings your wrist to his lips, pressing them daringly to your pulse, “And I’d be a fool to not want a forever with you.”
“Well, you are no fool,” you giggle, heart racing away, and you know Jasper can hear it when he perks a teasing brow at you.
“I most certainly am not, ma’am.”
“Don’t you dare start with that.” You shoot him a glare, but the smirk never leaves his lips as the vampire presses another kiss to your knuckles.
You linger in the moment, in the feeling of his cold touch. The silence between the two of you is heavy but comfortable, like a blanket, sealing you off from the rest of the world. You don’t even remember the movie playing in the background. It’s just you and Jasper.
“So you’re scared of the “you” part,” you whisper eventually, finitely.
Jasper replies, reluctant and quiet, “I can’t hurt you, darlin’.”
“Even if it’s something I want?”
His lips draw into a tight line. You can practically see the conflict play out in his eyes, like flashing gunfire. Like a wild animal, frozen between fight or flight and fear. Fear of himself. A sad sigh slips past your lips when you realize why. He still sees himself as the monster.
“Jasper,” you start and drop his hand in favor of cupping his face gently. He needs to feel you on this. His amber eyes bore into yours, wide and uncertain. “I will never make you do something you don’t want to do, ever. What you want is important to me. We are a team, right?” He gives a slight nod, and you smile. “So I want this, and I want it to be you, not just because I love you, but because I trust you, Jasper. But if you don’t want to, that’s okay.”
Jasper’s eyes dart between yours, edged with an unspoken desperation. It’s like he’s not 160 years old, and instead the young teenager he was when he was turned. The years slip away and he feels just as scared as he had back then.
Yet here you are, with far fewer years, only the existence of this small town behind you, looking at him, and telling him he has a choice. Telling him you trust him. And he can feel it, feel the absolute earnesty in your words, the love pouring off of you as you look at him with such gentleness and understanding. It’s like warmth pouring over him, something he hasn’t felt in such a long time.
“Now,” you hum, reassured by the way his eyes settle and how his shoulders slump, like the weight is finally falling off of them, “that was a lot, so we are going to finish this movie, okay? And you’re going to take your time to think about it, because we’re not rushing into anything.”
You lean forward and give him a kiss. It’s soft, just the barest press of your lips to his, but when you draw back, there’s that relieved grin pulling at his lips again. Jasper catches you by the waist before you can pull away, drawing you right back in. His lips press insistently to yours, though his touch remains overwhelmingly gentle, like you are the most fragile piece of porcelain. It makes something warm pool deep in your chest, leaving you breathless when you finally pull away.
“I’m afraid we might have to start to movie over,” Jasper muses after a moment, and you can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, still trying to catch your breath.
“Were you enjoying it?” You ask, eyes suddenly wide with excitement.
“I was.” The vampire presses another, fond kiss to your forehead, drawing the cutest sigh from you. “Though I enjoy your presence even more.”
“...You just liked me playing with your hair, didn’t you?”
You can feel his lips stretch into a smirk against your skin, and you swat playfully at his chest.
“That doesn’t mean I wasn’t enjoying the movie” he defends himself, voice bright with concealed laughter.
“Sure, cowboy, now shush. I don’t have the energy to lecture you twice,” you declare, twisting so you can look at the tv again.
“I wouldn’t dare bring your wrath down again,” he teases as he pulls you into his lap, chin propping on your shoulder.
“If you think that was my wrath, we’re in for a bumpy road, cowboy.” 
“It’s a good thing we’ll have forever then, won’t it darlin’?”
You smile, heart fluttering at the promise behind his words.
“It certainly is.”
---
This definitely took on a life of its own when I started writing, as most of my stuff does. I'll hopefully write another part with the actually turning, because a few people wanted that, but I liked this conversation and thought it'd be important.
Also, Jasper identifying with Wall-e is something I never knew I needed in this life, but it just works so gosh dang well.
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scoobydoodean · 7 months
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Made a similar post before but... I think people in their minds actually revise 2.03 Bloodlust to be this episode where Sam is on this "Monsters can be good" train before he ever gets kidnapped by Lenore and he then is burdened with the task of convincing poor stupid idiot Dean who isn't as open-minded and rational as he is to think for just one second and then at the end of the episode, pats him on the head and tells him not to feel guilty about it when he finally becomes enlightened like Sam has always been but that is not how that episode goes.
Sam's immediate reaction to the alleged existence of good vampires is not any different from Dean's. He immediately rejects the idea that the vampires aren't hurting anyone, and throughout his entire conversation with Lenore, refuses to believe her until she goes, "Fine. I'll let you go to prove it to you" which rocks his whole ass world.
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Face of man having his whole worldview toppled sideways and having to figure out how to adapt:
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So yeah after this Sam and Dean get into a 2 minute fight about it which turns into a completely different conversation because Sam decides for the third time in three episodes to try and pretend he's Dean's therapist then (badly) psychoanalyze him about how Gordon is a substitute for their dad and it (shocker) doesn't go well. But then Gordon steals the car and the moment Sam and Dean walk into the room where Gordon is torturing Lenore, Dean's feelings about the entire thing happening in front of him are "This is bad. This is very bad."
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The SECOND he enters the room Dean picks a side, and it isn't Gordon's.
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Just like Lenore "proved" her goodness to Sam by letting him go, she "proves" her goodness to Dean by resisting the temptation to consume Sam's blood... but Dean started defending Lenore and trying to get Gordon to back off the moment he entered the room.
Dean is also much more thoughtful about where this leaves him and Sam in terms of their past hunts while Sam doesn't consider the past at all?
Istg people rewrite this scene in their minds to be Sam approaching the whole thing from the perspective of someone who was already "enlightened"... but he wasn't. He was equally shocked by the revelation of good vampires possibly existing in this episode. He just doesn't bother to also consider the implications as far as any previous case they've ever been on. He doesn't feel any guilt about it he just lets it go with a shrug and Dean doesn't.
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Add to this that in 1.12, Sam was the one with the hardline stance that they couldn't kill humans—ones who would get away with their crimes because they committed them by supernatural means—and that doing so would make them "just as bad" as the things they hunt. The only difference between a human using a reaper to murder people for clout, and a monster murdering people, is the physical characteristics of the monster versus the human. Dean sees a human using a reaper to murder people for clout and says, "they're a monster in my book". He argues they should take care of it because of the human's actions—otherwise there will be no repercussions for the human involved, while Sam draws a hard line that they can't kill a human simply because they're human and for no other reason. This is also crunchy in terms of how it might relate to Sam's eventual feelings about his inner nature making him evil, versus Dean's actions-based analysis.
Sam has a lot of compassion for Max in 1.14, but it's gone by 2.05 when his reaction to Andy is to immediately assume he's a murderer while Dean rightfully thinks there's something else possibly going on... and that's two episodes after 2.03 Bloodlust.
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kawaiikenna · 2 years
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Another fic of mine! It was inspired by some comments on another fic. Here’s the link for the ao3 posting. Support it on there if you’d like. -w-
Danny had been summoned to many, many different places. Creepy warehouses with cloaked hooded cultists chanting? Yep. The produce area of an abandoned supermarket? Check. Several girls’ slumber parties ages ranging from 12 to 25? Been there, done that. Hell, he’s even been summoned by a group of boys for no other reason than one of them had to prove that his sister wasn’t lying when she said that they had summoned the Ghost King at her last slumber party. Yeah, that was fun. No, not really.
But a daycare? Or at least somewhere he thought was a daycare? Now that was someplace Danny had never thought he’d be summoned to. But there he was. Plopped into a group of maybe 10-15 kids. Not fully eldritch but enough for other ‘normal’ humans to become extremely unsettled or flat out scared. Horns spiraled out from the sides of his head, limbs too long and skinny to be considered human, his hands held spindly long fingers tipped with icy claws, his eyes were normal if not for the black sclera instead of white. He was wearing his normal black and white hazmat suit with a fur lined cloak hanging heavy on his shoulders. Danny said nothing as he stared, flabbergasted, at the small, young boy crying on the ground. He had a really bad skinned knee that was bleeding a fair amount. It apparently was enough blood to trigger the summoning circle.
There were several other children around the room. All of them had frozen and stared either at the boy, or, blatantly, at Danny. He was too tired to deal with this. He had other shit to do rather than babysit random ass kids that inadvertently summoned him. So Danny bent down and took a look at the kid’s knee. He was as gentle as possible.
“Hey buddy.” Danny says softly. “That looks like it hurts. Would it be ok if I fixed it for you?”
The kid didn’t say anything, more just nodded but Danny wasn’t sure if he could even hear him. So Danny pulled out his emergency first aid kit and went about cleaning and bandaging the boy’s knee.
“What’s your name?” Danny asks gently as he disinfects the bloody wound.
“James.” A soft whisper answers.
“Well you’re very brave James.” He responds.
There isn’t anymore conversation after that, but the atmosphere was more relaxed now that Danny had demonstrated that he wasn’t a threat. By the time he had finished the other kids were surrounding them. They all looked incredibly curious. A few of the braver ones had asked questions while Danny had been doing. He thought that even if he usually didn’t deal well with kids, he did a pretty damn good job.
Danny made to stand up but instead was tackled back to the ground by a tiny body. He looked over his shoulder to find a little girl clinging to his cloak with all her might. She beams brightly up at him.
“Are you here to play with us?” She asks.
“Uhh, no?” Danny answered, confusion lacing his words.
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say because now there was another child pouncing on his back and two more holding onto each of his arms. All at once they tried to talk. Some in complaining tones, others in curiosity.
“Noo! You should stay and play!”
“Yeah! You have to stay and play ‘cause that’s the rules!”
“Yeah! That’s the rules!”
“How come you have a cape?”
“Do you like hide and seek?”
“Why’s your hair white? Does that mean you’re old?”
“If you’re old does that mean you can’t play hide and seek?”
“No! I don’t like hide and seek!”
“Yeah! He should come draw with us instead!”
“How come you have horns?”
“Are you dressed up for Halloween?”
“Halloween isn’t for a long time stupid!”
“Hey!”
Danny’s head was starting to spin. He hadn’t eaten since that morning. The ghosts had decided to make his life a living hell and attack him every ten minutes. Now with this, this was the icing on the cake. Summonings had become somewhat more of an often occurrence. Not by much but enough that it still messed up his day. But you know what? Today is a day to just roll with the punches. So Danny did play hide and seek. He also did some drawings. He even let some of the kids try on his cloak. He even gave some of the older kids flights around the room. Danny had sent a text to the group chat somewhat explaining the situation before focusing again on entertaining the tiny children.
When he asked about an adult that was in charge; he got the answer of mommy and daddy are dead or they weren’t coming back. So he assumed that this was kind of like an orphanage. One where older kids took care of the youngers and everyone watched each other’s backs. That really didn’t sit right with Danny but there really wasn’t anything he could do for them.
So instead he entertained them and played with them. He didn’t know how long they played together, but it was long enough to where the majority of the kids were falling asleep. So he gathered up the youngest ones and had a cuddle pile. His cloak became their blanket. Some of the older kids joined them as well.
They had finally gotten the last little one to sleep when Batman kicked the door down. Danny managed to snag the door before it hit the floor. Green energy enveloping it as he set it down carefully. The hero marched into the room, closely followed by a young woman dressed in what looked like one of those ‘sexy magician’ Halloween costumes he had seen before. Now, if Danny hadn’t been so tired he would have been embarrassed by his reaction. But since he was half mad from sleep deprivation, and maybe a little hunger, considering how long he had gone without an actual proper meal, there were no such feelings. So instead of calmly telling them to be quiet as to not wake up the other kids and that he would explain later. He threatened the pair.
“If either of you end up waking up even one of the kids I will personally make it my mission to make you’re lives extremely difficult.” Danny hisses dangerously, eyes flaring protectively.
The three year old cuddled into his left side stirred slightly. Hazel eyes blinking blearily up at him. Immediately calling Danny’s attention to the little boy. “Shh, shh, go back to sleep Sammy.”
A content purr sounding from the halfa. The little boy, Sammy, did as told and went back to sleep. Danny goes back to glaring at the two adults. He hisses softly when the magician lady takes a step forward. A warning to the back the hell up. Surprisingly she does exactly that and Danny stops hissing. Though his eyes were still narrowed in suspicion.
Batman opens his mouth, probably to demand answers and information, but Danny cuts him short with a warning growl. “I don’t care if you have questions or want to know why or how I got here. I’m waaay to friggin tired to give you any kind of satisfactory answer. So just let me sleep.” A large yawn escapes him. “If you guys want to stay until nap time is over then be my guest.”
Danny then closes his eyes and focused on the children cuddling closest to him. Miranda curls more into his chest, face halfway pressed to his collarbone, and hums sleepily. Adam wakes himself up a bit with a sudden loud snore but settles right back into Danny’s right side, his head resting on the older’s shoulder. Sarah is still situated between his legs with her head lolled in Miranda’s lap. Suzie has her back firmly pressed to the outside of Danny’s left thigh. Sammy’s feet are just barely touching the top of her head. Danny let’s himself relax and bask in the kids’ sleepy emotions. Just before he falls off into sleep he cracks open an eye.
Batman and the magician lady are talking in hushed whispers in the opposite corner of his not so little cuddle puddle. He probably could have listened in on their conversation with his enhanced hearing. Nah, that would take too much effort. So instead he just drops off. This is something future Danny will have to deal with. Current Danny just wants to take a damn nap.
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moonsaver · 2 months
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sunday... celebrating valentines day... I beg
Ask and you shall receive. Unfortunately i am very unaccustomed to valentines traditions, so please forgive me if this writing is more words strung together than actual content.
---
Sunday isnt exactly fond of PDA, mainly because of the risks.
But it is technically for one day, despite the fact there are many things that are calculated and take place in one day, he knows its an endearing celebration that means more in action than in name.
Thus, he decides with a good minute of thinking – he shall make room in his schedule of daily affairs for you.. as long as you don't mind the fact its for barely 3 system hours.
Don't get him wrong. Unfortunately, Sunday would like to keep you out of prying eyes, so one system hour is dedicated and well planned into checking out clothing stores of all kinds. Even if it draws a bit of attention, he strategically places a few Bloodhound guards around the centres and plazas.
And the other 2 (system) hours are well spent in private behind closed doors. His schedule for the next few days is quite thoroughly packed, so he makes sure to satisfy you enough before he has to busy himself. Lovingly peppers kisses all over you. Brushes his lips against your knuckles, inciting a soft chuckle from you. He brushes through your hair, watches you model every piece of clothing you brought, suggests certain combinations, and discusses all sorts of things with you. For this moment, you have his full attention, not a single thought is spared for any other business official or representative he has to speak to. Only you.
You didn't realise how.. intense his gaze can be, as you accidentally make eye contact with him while speaking and suddenly get thrown into a trance. He asks you what's wrong and you snap out of it, laughing awkwardly and looking somewhere else, trying to hastily get back on track. Suddenly.. your legs feel like jelly under his gaze.. your palms are sweaty.. was his gaze always this.. mesmerizing? You feel almost selfish for wanting it on you for longer. You look to see if he's still staring at you, and it seems like he hasn't moved a single inch, despite the fact you've been talking for 15 minutes straight about who-knows-what, and he hasn't said a single word. You should probably go back in and try another piece of clothing for him.
And he stops you before you go in, and asks to see what you're about to try on. He stands near the door, almost expectantly as you put it on and come out. He knows you'll need help. The strings on your back won't tie themselves, after all. Especially since he requested to do it for you. You almost squeak at the feeling of his gloved hands making quick work of the string on your back, gently feeling the curve of your spine after he's done. Trailing up to the bottom of your neck, dancing across your shoulders. You can practically feel his gaze scan your body underneath the clothing. He retracts his fingers and asks you to turn around. You hope he doesn't notice your heated face.
And it might feel overwhelming and awkward at first (for the lack of a better word), not being used to his full 100% attention. He knows it, and tries to smoothly make up for it by initiating most of the conversation, but deep down does feel a tinge of guilt at not being able to do it often.
He is very adept with his fingers. Take that as you will, but for now, lets focus on the more sfw side.
He probably knows origami quite well. Makes a few small, mini figures and guides you on how to make them, praising you softly in a slightly professional tone. It may seem awkward at first, but he's trying to praise you genuinely. He makes more conversation and jokes along the way, and kisses the side of your head every time you make a successful paper figure, even if it's just as simple as a mashed up paper star. Efforts are well appreciated by Sunday.
At the end of the day, once you are thoroughly exhausted, he lays you down anywhere soft – usually the couch (as unromantic as it sounds), and sits beside you. He talks in a very soft, gentle voice, which surprisingly lulls you to sleep very well. If you focus on his sweet-nothings, you realise his casual conversation has turned into sweet, heart-melting appreciation of you. He recounts every detail – when he met you, where it was, conversations between you two that constantly spin in his head. Before you know it – you're asleep. He kisses your forehead, drapes a blanket on you, leaves your Valentine's day handwritten card on the desk with an elegant box of chocolates right beside it. Who knew Sunday was so adept at making chocolate? It's quite rich in flavor, too. Perhaps.. these are meant to be shared at night?
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skemford · 7 months
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Decided to refresh my knowledge of bendy protagonists personalities/quirks and i can say that i forget how distant canon Audrey is from fanon one sometimes
Here's relatively short list with Audrey character analysis+random tibbits (environmental/gameplay/voice lines)
(I'll appreciate if someone will interact+most of it is under the cut!)
1. Her workplace is an unorganized mess
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On the right side: a couple of empty teacups, empty paper sheets, unopened envelope, books/notebooks, a toy ball and keys in the middle of the desk, storyboards that are UNRELATED to what she was working on;
On the left side: donut that she kept close to her elbow & storyboards while she was drawing + to-do list for a day
There's no WAY she'll be able to keep anything tidy. If you hc her and Bendy to have a familiar bond post game, she'll be as messy if not messier. Her home might be a wreck.
2. She easily distracts
- Audrey is working overtime and claims that she has "only eight hundred more frames to go" until the next deadline
But was she actually *actively* working?
She has unrelated items on her desk (listed above) and jumps on the first opportunity to get a coffee.
If she really did wanted to have a drink, she literally has a soda machine close to her office doors.
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Some brands of soda do have caffeine in them, right? Getting a coffee looks more like an excuse for a walk.
Bonus point: if you'll stay in her office without getting up (for 15 minutes), she'll acknowledge that she has no time to waste and will return to work instead.
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- "Well, the coffee's good and all. But this work's gotta get done"
Worth to acknowledge: this girl has "employee of the month" award and some kind of animation award (boris statue) in her office .
Does she stays overtime everyday to finish something? Or other Archgate employees are even worse at their jobs, somehow?
3. She uses dry sarcasm or makes jokes a lot
Honestly, it happens really often and should be brought up in fan content more imo.
Due to the images limit i can't put a lot of examples with screnshoots but I'll quote some of them.
- "i think you and i have very different definitions of alright" (toward Allison)
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- "Looks like he's having a bad day" (about dead lost one with the gent pipe)
- "Ok! Yeah! And that totally makes sense" (reaction to an easter egg)
- "That's one leap of faith i definitely won't make" (about the pit in animation alley)
4. Audrey gets defensive when someone starts to talk over her or when she feels overwhelmed
Audrey either will deny what was said or will acknowledge it by being sarcastic
Prominent example of this is her reaction to Memory!Joey at the hotel:
- "Oh,now you knew my father. Well, newsflash! I didn't even knew my father...or my mother. Or anyone else in my family" (after Joey says that she has "adventurous spirit of her father")
- "What? Are you crazy?... Who do you think you are?" (after the reveal of her being created by the ink machine)
+ Similar behaviour can be seen in her short interaction with Twisted Alice (Susie).
Audrey prefers to keep conversation equal between both sides and when it fails to work, she'll either stay silent or will express frustration (which can be seen with her replying "no" to Twisted Alice and not saying anything afterwards)
5. She seems to trust Allison enough to be vulnerable around her
After leaving the spider lair, she'll try to reach to Allison through the speakers
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- "Alice? Are... you there?... Alice!"
She'll acknowledge that she feels scared and after Allison won't sound reassuring enough, Audrey's hand will be visibly shaking.
Allison is the only character Audrey has opened to; you'll never see her being that vulnerable with anyone else
(She is honest with Henry but not on this level)
It makes me wish they had more interactions; Allison for sure was really important in early development of the game.
6. She's blunt
Through the game Audrey is a type of person who says whatever is on her mind without hiding her intentions too much.
She's emotional and rarely thinks twice (most of her decisions are impulsive or sometimes irrational) which reflects on the way she talks.
It's often slips out through sarcasm when she gets defensive/tries to cope but it's also happens in relatively safe environment (for example, when she talks with Betty):
- "Are you...very old?" (Wilson's mansion, bedroom)
This one liner is the most random question you can say to a stranger; I doubt it was very well thought out from her side
7. Audrey easily trusts people which makes her easy to manipulate
I couldn't skip this one.
When Wilson has created a story about his "poor lost father" as a bait and Audrey did believed in this, there are multiple reasons for "why"
This either could come from her being "goodhearted" or the circumstances being used against her
- She went through whole "father trauma" in one day without being able to process anything & get proper answers:
An idea of "saving" another father (Nathan Arch) who she could've knew more than her own father (Nathan says in one tape that he meet young animators at least once) could've hit her really close to home
- Audrey never actually got a real answer on how to leave the cycle, teaming up with Wilson (who was able to enter and leave) could've looked like the only one way back
(I do acknowledge that writing in DR could've been better at places but if you do think about it in this way,it makes sense)
7.1. She is empathetic
I think that this part says everything for itself and it doesn't need to be explained. Thought, she's the one who decide if someone deserves it.
- She felt bad for hurting Bendy on accident & apologized when she was able to
- When she met Allison for the last time, she "gave" her this name, remembering that she doesn't like to be called 'Alice'
- At the end of the game she wants to try to make the cycle better for everyone.
Twisted Alice (Susie) was included which means that Audrey doesn't hold grudges against her (even with the latest one wanting to kill her previously)
8. Audrey puts her arm through an ink container without hesitation or any side thoughts
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IT IS a game mechanic and lore wise you can relate it to her being an ink creature
But honestly? It's in character for Audrey.
We're talking about someone who decided to go to great lengths to catch an aquarium fish (that's kept as a pet) and wanted to use it...for a recipe.
8.1. She doesn't mind eating out of trashcans
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If you think that wanting to use someone's pet for a recipe is too weird, you're actually wrong. But eating out of trashcan (when you have other options) may be.
Thought, she drives a line on a food that has flies or other insects on it (like "chocolate cake")...i guess in other cases, it's fine to her.
~~~~~~~
Trivial things:
- Bendy seems to be her favourite cartoon character.
She calls him "little guy" in prologue and keeps close to her storyboards where he's the main character:
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In the cycle, she acts joyful when she first stumbles upon the real deal.
- She loves chocolate donuts
- Audrey uses dark eyeshadows (can be seen only in prologue custscene. It's hard to notice at first)
- Her breakfast from to-do list are toasts
- She has abstract Bendy painting in her office
- It can be speculated that she's uncomfortable with being touched (or with someone being physically close), unless, she's the one who initiates it
~~~~~~~~~
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aphroditeslover11 · 6 months
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Hi what do you think about a Neil Lewis with a actress reader? Like they met before and he has already a crush on her and then he watch movie and see her ?
Another tought (not q request just something in my head) so I'm from Göttingen, an we have here q tradition if someone has his PhD they have to kiss the Statue of the goose Maid ( "Gänseliesel") he is not common with this tradition and so when reader ask him when he is planning do the kiss he assumed she wanna that he kiss her
I hope this is something along the lines of what you were thinking of. I’m not at my best at the moment so I’m sorry if there are any glaring errors. I hadn’t written for Neil before, but he’s actually very fun! Thanks for your request. Also, that is a fabulous tradition, it might get slotted into one of my other Oppie requests, I’m not sure yet though as it’s in the idea phase at the moment.
A Surprise Encounter
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A/N: the classic films mentioned are all free on BBC iPlayer, go and give them a watch! I also have no idea where the store is, so I made it up.
Neil was absolutely beside himself when the invite arrived in the post. A new film that he couldn’t wait to see was premiering soon, it was low budget but contained a few big names who had decided that they wanted to promote the more independent side of the industry. He had been asked to attend an event aiming to promote smaller video shops like his rather than the huge, commercial ones that were taking over. When he read that you and the director alone were going to be on the panel he felt like he had never been luckier, finally a chance to meet his favourite actress in the flesh. Although he did admire your talents, he’d be lying if he didn’t admit that he also found you wildly attractive.
The next few weeks were spent planning everything. He rewatched a few of your films so that he could ask some decent questions of you at the press event and reading every article that he could on the making of your new one, a biopic of Julie d’Aubigny. He went out and bought a new suit for the occasion, had his hair cut. As far as he was concerned, there were going to be no disasters, not when he was going to meet one of his idols.
~
The day of the event had finally come. All of the invitees, including Neil, had been piled into an auditorium where they had been given an early viewing of the film, then being moved into a press room with rows of chairs set out in front of a platform. He was happy with his seat, about half way back in the crowd, not too conspicuous but with a good view of the stage. The previous hubbub died down as soon as the panel made their way up, the director taking his place, yet Neil’s eyes were fixed on you. Your hair was down and curly, framing your face, and that smile that everyone always talked about. You were wearing black heels a red dress that dipped down just enough to give a small view of your cleavage. He was transfixed.
Questions started being asked, the general types of how you had enjoyed working with the rest of the cast and what you had taken away from playing your character, some conversations were had about wanting to make sure that the smaller side of the film and cinema industry wasn’t dwarfed in the future. For some reason, all of the eyes in the room suddenly focused on Neil, it was only then that he realised that he had drifted off, his arm leaned on the armrest of his chair in such a way that you had thought he was asking a question.
“Uh, the gentleman in the blue suit there, do you have a question?” The sentence was coming from you, quickly drawing him out of his reverie.
“Um.. yes,” he never was much good at thinking on his feet. “I know that you’re promoting this film today, but do you feel as if classic cinema has been forgotten. My shop specialises in older, more hard to find movies and… well, yeah,” he trailed off. He was like a deer in the headlights, speaking as if he was full of terror. A few people around him were scoffing and hiding their laughter. Great, he had embarrassed himself in front of you.
“Actually, I do think that we’ve forgotten about classic cinema. Not only the thrillers and comedies, but for me the least talked about are the romance films. I grew up on Astaire and Rogers musicals, I know some people don’t like them and find them a bit politically incorrect know, but they still have a special place in my heart. If you think about their influence on modern cinema, we wouldn’t have ‘Sleepless In Seattle’ if it hadn’t been for a 1939 film ‘Love Affair”. What was your name?” Why the hell did you want to know who he was?
“Neil Lewis.”
“And where’s your shop?”
“California, its called Gumshoe Video.”
“I’ll pop in next time I’m in town, maybe you could give me some recommendations.” And that was the end of that conversation.
~
About three weeks later everything had returned to normal. Neil was back to running the store and the gang were still practically living there. It was a completely normal day when Lucien, who had been manning the counter, came around to the back to find him.
“Neil, you might want to come inside, there’s a customer asking for you.”
“Can’t you handle it?” He just wanted a bit of time to himself, making is response more huffy than he had intended.
“Trust me, you want to come and see this.”
He followed Lucien back into the shop, only to be caught in shock as he saw you standing there in front of him, dressed a lot more casually than the last time he saw you, but still with your hair down in its beautiful curls. He never thought that you would actually make true on what you had said, but here you were.
“Is there anything that I can help you with Miss y/l/n?”
“I came by to see if you had any suggestions for me, you know, classic films like you said you specialised in.” You actually seemed a bit nervous, though he had no idea why. “And please, call me y/n.”
“Right, y/n,” it just felt so right when he said it. “What kind of thing are you looking for, any genres in mind?”
“I always love a romance movie, the press don’t know yet but I left my boyfriend last month after he cheated on me. I’m down here to get away from it all, so a romance to take my mind off everything would be good, yeah.” He could see the sadness behind your eyes as you explained.
“He must have been an idiot then,” he said, immediately regretting it and walking past the stunned Lucien towards the romance section, beckoning for you to follow.
“So, you said that you liked Astaire and Rogers, but have you ever seen ‘The Sky’s The Limit’?”
“I don’t think I have, no.” He reached out for the dvd, showing you the front of the case.
“It’s Fred Astaire and Joan Leslie, came out in 1943. A musical about a fighter pilot who falls in love with a girl who wants to make it as a journalist, sounds like the sort of thing you might be looking for.”
“I think I’ll take that then, sounds perfect.” Something lit up inside him, you were smiling and it was because of something that he had done.
“Right, I’ll go and sort out a membership card so that you can rent it then, do you have any ID on you. Driver’s licence or something?” You followed him over to the till, rooting around in your bag to find what he had asked for. He busied himself, quickly handing over the card and the movie.
“What do I owe you?” you asked, reaching for your purse.
“Nothing, it’s on the house.”
“Are you sure, because…”
“Yeah, in return for having me at that panel a few weeks back. It was amazing.”
“Well, in that case can I pay you back in another way?”
“What do you mean?”
“Maybe we could watch the film together?”
“That sounds like a fair means of payment, I think I’ll accept.” You slipped him your number, telling him to call when he was free before walking out of the store, Neil wondering what the fuck had just happened.
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