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some-bunniii · 2 months

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My Charming Red Savior [3]

・❥ You finally meet Alastor’s friends, only to then find your tea party rudely interrupted by an angry mob.

x: no use of y/n.

~ 7.9k words

warnings: adult themes

“Um…hi?”

The group of demons scooted a few steps closer to you, anxious to get a better look at the unfamiliar face in front of them. Their expressions were mixed, suspicion, excitement, confusion. Their eyes scanned up and down your figure, and you suddenly felt awfully self-conscious.

You leaned back slightly from the onlookers, as much as Alastor’s hold on you would allow. His arm was snaked around your elbow, locking you in place, which was the only comfort in this very strange little world.

The Hazbin Hotel, just like that Imp and Alastor had described to you earlier in the day. The question is, how did you get here, exactly?

These demons didn’t seem unfriendly, or cruel. They just seemed shocked to see you here, most likely the same feelings you’re experiencing right now.

Did Alastor do that? He must have, but how? Through the ring?

And, what about your money, purse, wallet, and keys? Did that asshole run off with them after you vanished? You held back the urge to sigh, what a day.

“Alastor, mind explaining who this is?” The gray, shorter lady in front asked, arms crossed as she regarded you cautiously with a single eye.

Alastor only grinned mischievously, a small chuckle escaping his lips, before turning his gaze towards you. He tugged you forward gently, and your back straightened as you smiled widely.

“Well, isn’t it obvious with that charming smile? She’s my wife!”

Silence. Utter silence, so silent in fact, you swore you could hear gunshots ringing from a few blocks away.

Your eyebrows shot up, heat creeping on your cheeks as you processed his words. You side-eyed him, a question behind your glance.

Is he serious?

The platinum-blonde-haired woman's mouth dropped open, her eyes glimmering. That gray lady only reeled back slightly, eyeing both you and Alastor with even more suspicion.

“Whaaaaaa..?” The pink spider demon quirked an eyebrow, his gaze darting to a much shorter black-and-white feline man, who shot him a confused expression right back. The tiny Cyclops lady only jumped in place giddily, her hands to her mouth in glee.

It wasn’t until you felt a rumbling beside you, did you turn to find Alastor laughing, his shoulders shaking as he put a hand to his mouth.

The even more shocked faces in the crowd faltered, as they watched Alastor collect himself.

“Ah, to see your faces like this is quite amusing.” Alastor chuckled, taking a claw and lifting it to his eye to wipe a false tear.

“Real funny.” The winged cat grumbled, rolling his eyes. The woman in the red suit seemed to deflate, a frown on her lips. She looked like she was genuinely sad by the news. A similar pang hit your heart, before shaking it off. Right, he wasn’t your husband. It was just an act. You knew this, so why did you feel this way?

You heard Alastor clear his throat, before gesturing to you once more. “This darling belle before you is here because.. she is interested in redemption through the hotel!”

Huh? When in the world did that thought ever cross your mind? Your head snapped to him, and you caught the mischievous glint in his eye as the platinum-blonde lady in front of you beamed, the sparkle in her eyes almost blinding you as she bounced on her toes.

“Really?!” She squealed, before crossing the distance between the two of you. She leaned down slightly, meeting your gaze. “Hello! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! Although, I’m sure you’ve heard a lot about it already."

Oh, this must be that daughter of the imp. The one that appeared before you before the store you worked at had opened, the one that told you his daughter owned the Hazbin Hotel. She didn’t look like an imp, though. You shook that thought off for a moment as she conversed with you.

“Not really,” you confessed, “I only know about you through Alastor.”

“Well, I’d be pleased to show you around and give you all the information you need to make a decision.” Charlie reached out her hand, a welcoming gesture. You hesitated before your eyes flicked up to Alastor, a thousand questions in your gaze.

But, what about your things? Why were you suddenly thrust into this situation? When were you going to get an explanation of how exactly you got here?

‘Go along with it, we’ll talk later.’ Alastor’s eyes seemed to speak, behind that charming grin. Just like it did the first time you met him. At least, you hoped that was what he was saying. You were going to talk to him no matter what, anyway.

You slipped your arm from his hold and grasped Charlie’s hand, and she tugged you beside her as she walked towards the group of demons. You felt a bit nervous as you approached them, seeing as their eyes had been on you since the moment you landed in their lobby.

“These two are our residents at the hotel! This is Sir. Pentious.” Charlie gestured to the tall snake demon, his hood covered his face slightly as he smiled bashfully.

“It’sssss a pleassure to meet you, my dear!” He said, clasping his hands together, and you smiled warmly in return. Sir. Pentious seemed like a respectful, modest demon. A rare gem. He reminded you of Alastor but with a flare of innocence to him. Or, at least, less murderous.

Charlie turned slightly towards that taller, fuzzy spider dressed rather scantily. “And, this is Angel Dust. He was our first guest when we originally opened!”

“How ya’ doin’, toots?” He winked at you, that golden tooth catching your eye as it shimmered in the warm lighting. He seemed to exude an air of confidence and charm that attracted attention effortlessly. At least, he was the first person to catch your eye when you materialized in front of them. It might just have been the bright pink fuzz, though.

“This is Husk… Niffty… Vaggie…” Charlie continued, introducing you to the rest of the staff. You stood beside her, patiently waiting for it to be over so you could speak to Alastor. Who was standing a ways behind you, no doubt tracing your figure as you slowly met each member. Finally, when you had finished greetings, Charlie turned to you. “I think it’s time we do a little tour of the hotel, get you familiar with everything!”

Your smile faltered for a moment. Right, you weren’t totally done yet. As much as you wanted to learn more about where you just dropped into, you had a very, very long day. Your plush, weighted covers that were sitting patiently back at home were calling to you. Still, Charlie turned towards the opposite side of the room, before glancing behind and beckoning you to follow. You obliged, keeping pace with her as she began to speak.

She guided you through multiple different locations, the kitchen, the lounge, and the bar. Soon, you were walking down a long hallway, rows of doors facing both sides of you. Were all these rooms vacant? Seemed like the hotel wasn’t very popular, though you weren’t surprised.

It wasn't until you entered a large sub-room, with a very lavish mahogany-wood staircase, that you stopped in your tracks and looked at the large frame hanging above you. Splashes of color filled your vision as you gazed at a large painting on the opposite side of the stairs. It depicted a large glistening, blue lake nestled in a sunny clearing around rows and rows of lush trees. At the edges of the lapping waves, fawns danced with small winged children in fields of sunlit flowers. Some held their hands to their mouths, giggling in joy as they frolicked carefree in the afternoon breeze.

You gawked at the painting for a few more moments, your eyes tracing the perfect lines and forms of each figure. The wings of the angels looked like actual feathers, carefully crafted through paint tools by a skilled hand.

“Isn’t it amazing?” Charlie swooned beside you, gazing up at the portrait. You nodded slowly in response, it was a very beautiful painting. Is that what Heaven looked like? If that was the case, you didn't mind giving redemption a try anymore.

“Who made this?”

“One of our staff here, they are our newest addition to the crew! I’d introduce the two of you, but they’re attending an art show tonight. An auction, I think. I’m sure you two would get along great, though!”

Yes, maybe you’d like that. Charlie continued on her path, as you rounded a corner into another hallway, the lights of the lobby off in the distance. You exhaled a quiet sigh of relief. You could finally speak to Alastor about the questions reeling in your head.

When you entered the lobby, the rest of the crew had dispersed. Angel Dust was lounging at the bar, offering Vaggie a drink who declined it curtly. Husker was growling something to Niffty, who was attempting to stab a bug atop the bar counter.

Alastor hadn’t followed you on that tour, instead, you found him leaning comfortably against the side of a wall. He stood there, a microfiber cloth in one hand and his red-tinted monocle in the other. Gingerly, he brushed the cloth across the small surface, wiping it clean of any imperfections.

It wasn’t until his gaze lifted and met yours, that the cloth vanished from his hand, and he adjusted the monocle back on his face. He straightened, resting slightly against his cane as the two of you approached him.

“So, what do you think?” Charlie pivoted to face you, a large smile on her lips. She looked so hopeful, and you did not want to say anything to hurt her feelings. You glanced at Alastor, who stood a little ways behind Charlie. His eyes were unreadable, that small smile of no help. Great, you were on your own with this one.

“Well, I think the hotel is very pretty.” You responded slowly, choosing your words carefully as you spoke.

“What about staying here?” Charlie leaned in slightly closer, bouncing on her toes as she beamed at you.

“Um, about that, It’s a nice offer and all but…” Charlie’s face dropped, her eyes glistening as she visibly deflated before your eyes. You grimaced, before taking a step closer, apologetically waving your hands. “But, I’m just pretty exhausted right now, so I think a good night's sleep will allow me to give you a better answer.”

Charlie perked at that. Even if it wasn't a ‘yes’ it was still better than your full rejection. She nodded, “That works with me!”

“Wonderful!” A voice buzzed behind Charlie before Alastor appeared next to her. He turned to the apple-cheeked woman, before widening his grin. “It seems like our new friend is rather tired, so I will do the honors and show them to their room.”

Wait, room? As in, here at the hotel? That was not your original plan, but, if it meant you were finally able to speak with the red demon, so be it.

Charlie agreed, before waving farewell to you and joining Vaggie on the couch. You turned to face Alastor, and he offered you his arm. You felt like ignoring it for a moment, and just walking beside him. Some kind of payback for suddenly dumping you here and into the arms of strangers.

After a moment, you sighed in defeat and laced your arm with his. He turned you to a second hallway and began to lead you down the winding corridor. After you were out of earshot, Alastor cleared his throat beside you, before turning his head slightly to face you.

“I’m surprised to see you here so soon, my dear. I knew you’d appear eventually, with how easily trouble seems to find you.”

“I’ve been waiting to hear how I even got here in the first place.” You replied sternly, prodding him for an explanation.

“Why, the ring of course!” He spoke, gesturing to your bare finger. “I embedded it with magic that would take you to safety if you were ever to be manhandled again while I am not present.”

You were silent for a moment, contemplating his words. Alastor put some kind of spell on the ring to protect you? Had that been there since he originally placed it on your finger? Now you were beginning to understand the strange words he said back in the tailoring room when he mentioned the ring being a charm for good luck. Heat began to creep on your cheeks, as you realized how offly sweet that was of him.

“Well, then I suppose I must thank you. If it weren’t for you, I may have gotten more than just my money and bag taken.”

“Ah, so that is what it was. Well, you don’t need to worry any longer, my dear. This hotel is safe from any kind of danger.” He patted your hand assuringly as you walked, “Which is why I only offered the idea back there, as I believe it benefits you more than anyone here.”

Alastor did all this because he cared about your well-being? The ring, the teleportation, living here, the killing. All for you. Even, your “relationship” with him was just that. Your mind went back to when he had laughed in the lobby, like the thought of being with you was that big of a joke to tell all his friends. He could have just not said anything! And yet, he acted so gentle and kind to you, even asking for your permission to kill your boss, just for asking you on a date!

Sure, you’ve only met Alastor like, what, twice? So, you weren’t expecting such a serious step in a relationship to be taken so fast, nor anything similar. But, there was no way Alastor had been doing all this out of the kindness of his heart, he’s the Radio Demon.

There had to be a real reason. He hasn’t even communicated his feelings on the matter, does he expect you to read every thought behind his gaze? You frowned, irritation setting on your face.

“I’m surprised you did all this,” you start, taking a slight step away from Alastor as you slip your arm out of his hold, continuing to keep pace with his footsteps, “seeing as you think what I have experienced this past week is so funny.”

Alastor halted in his tracks, and you were jerked slightly as you were pulled back from the hold on his arm. He turned his head to you, his ears flattened slightly as he searched your gaze. He tapped his claws against his cane, fast and erratic as he observed you.

“Are you referring to what I said when I introduced you?” He questioned slowly, That smile creeping a little higher as he tried to keep up the charm. You crossed your arms, attempting a stern stance as you took another step back.

“Yes, I didn’t exactly expect to be the punchline to your dismissive jokes.”

“My intentions were not to make light of recent events, I can assure you,” Alastor cleared his throat, a nervous chuckle escaping his lips, “I simply wanted to gauge their reaction to such a statement, as I’ve spoken before, one must always be prepared for every situation. And, you must stop referring to them as my ‘friends’, I hardly know them.”

You didn’t have time to process his strange words before Alastor reached an arm out towards you, beckoning for you to take his hand. You only hesitated a second before crumbling, your fingers brushing softly against Alastor’s palm as he lifted your hand towards him. With one digit, he traced up your ring finger, before settling just above your knuckle. You hitched your breath, watching as a string of green light wrapped around your finger. It thickened, before a light green cloud of smoke poured from the light. Leaning down, Alastor lightly blew against your finger, and the smoke dispersed. Your eyes widened when that familiar, golden band began to glint against the hallway lights.

“There, now do you see? My words have been nothing but truthful, my doe.”

His fingers stayed on your hand a little longer, brushing softly against your knuckles, before he withdrew. You pulled your hand closer, twisting your finger until you could see it, that little rose-gold A etched onto the ring’s surface. A warm smile crept onto your lips as you inspected it. You kind of missed the feeling of it snuggled against your skin.

“Well, when you put it like that...” you trailed off, and Alastor grinned widely, accepting your response with a grin as he sidled close to you, motioning to the door in front of him. You turned, your eyes landing on the small 7 etched in gold against the wood. Was this your room?

“Am I staying here?” You questioned, turning to Alastor.

“Preferably, and it is a short distance from my room. Should you ever acquire my assistance, of course.”

“Where is your room?”

Alastor turned, one claw pointed directly across the little hallway towards a replica of your door. Okay.. his room was literally ten feet from you, he wasn’t playing when he said it was a “short” distance. Were you complaining, though?

Suddenly, a yawn overcame you, and your hand lifted to shield your gaping mouth as you sighed softly. God, you were awfully exhausted, mentally and physically. Alastor watched you rub your eyes, before he softened, that smile fading just a tad as his eyes glanced at the clock hung on the wall near your door.

“It seems like it has gotten late, I apologize for keeping you from your beauty sleep.” He bowed his head respectfully to you, withdrawing closer into the shadows. “I do hope you’ll consider the offer of staying at the hotel, better than the neighborhoods crawling with thugs back in the city.”

You nodded, smiling at him as your fingers snaked around the door handle. “I will think about it, don’t worry. I did find some interest in Charlie’s words when we went on that tour.”

“Wonderful. I bid you a good night then, my doe.”

You twisted the handle, backing slowly into the shaded room. You sent a small wave, smiling at him as you shut the door. Your surroundings were drenched in darkness, and you placed your forehead against the cool, wooden frame. You sighed, letting your muscles come loose finally in the quiet of your private domain.

Wow, what a day.

You awoke the next morning, dark circles under your eyes as you groaned sleepily from the rays of morning light hitting your face. The plush white covers slid around you, a large pillow in your hold as you pulled it close to your chest. You snuggled your face deeper into it, intent on falling back into blissful dreams.

Except, nothing came. Your brain just kept prodding you to wake, to rise from the warmth of your makeshift nest and greet the day.

‘To greet Alastor!’ It whispered excitedly, and you stirred again.

What time was it? Waking in a room different from yours always throws off your sleep schedule. Turning your head slightly, you eyed the digital clock on the bedside table. It was seven in the morning, you had slept for almost ten hours. Impressive.

Slowly, you rose from the bed, your arms lifting above your head as you took a big stretch. Yawning, you pivoted, your feet landing on the cold, unfamiliar wood floor.

You sat there for a moment, your eyelids lifting slowly as you let yourself wake naturally.

What was your plan today? It seemed like Alastor insisted on you staying at the hotel, as well as Charlie. But, you had a place of your own. One that you rented, but with all your stuff nonetheless.

You still had a job, but seeing as the Hazbin Hotel provided everything of necessity for free, it wouldn’t hurt to lessen your load and start working part-time. Plus, less Alan. Yay!

Maybe, you’d go home later, collect what you needed and come back. You could even see if Alastor would do his little teleportation trick, it wasn’t so bad being pulled around like that if it cut your travel time to only a few seconds.

It seemed like this was your new room too, which wasn’t so bad. There was a bathroom, a balcony, a dining table, and basic furniture. And, Alastor was right across the hall! You were surprised when he had placed you so close to his own living quarters.

Wasn’t your relationship just a farce, like he had joked in the lobby yesterday night? Maybe, he felt you’d feel more comfortable being near someone familiar.

Maybe, he felt more comfortable having you close to him.

These thoughts spun through your head as you got ready for the day. Your face was soaked with water as you reached for a hand towel on the rack next to the bathroom sink, the soft cotton refreshing as you sank your face into it.

Weirdly, there was a small stack of fresh clothes on top of your dresser. Also weirdly, in your size. Who could have put them there? You examined them anyway, finding them not too far off from your normal style before slipping into the garments.

Opening the curtains, you pushed open the balcony doors. That cool breeze brushed against your ears as you inhaled a deep breath. A smile playing on your lips as you let the warmth of a new day hit your cheeks.

It was nice here, actually. The hotel was far enough away from the streets that the smell of garbage and booze didn’t hit your nose as you inhaled the breeze again. You couldn’t hear the loud profanities or honking cars from all the way up here.

It was amazing. Maybe, staying here was going to be pretty good.

You left the fresh air draft into your room, as you walked to the door. Your fingers caressed the handle for only a moment as you hesitated, before you shook yourself and took a deep breath. The door slowly creaked open, squeaking as it inched backward. Your head slowly peaked out of the door, your eyes scanning down the hall, before eventually landing in front of you.

Alastor’s door. The wood was dark, walnut-brown with golden borders that glinted underneath the wall sconces. There was nothing unusual about it, but it was it being his door that made it stand out against all the identical rooms in this hotel.

Should you knock? Ask him for directions back to the lobby? No, that was going to be weird. You didn’t want him to think you were using him or anything. No matter how much of a gentleman he acted.

Instead, you simply slipped through the threshold and quietly shut the door behind you.

Okay… so you definitely remember your room being on the right side of the hall when you came here last night. Which meant the lobby was somewhere left. Nice, at least we’re getting somewhere.

Turning, you begin your trek down the long hallway. Your eyes would occasionally glance at paintings, or your reflection on wall-length mirrors, as you walked. It wasn’t long before you arrived at a larger sub room, with a few pieces of furniture like benches and side tables. There was a TV in one corner, with stacks of newspapers on a coffee table in front of it.

It seemed to be like a small lounge, and you noted that in your head for later. The problem was, the room then split into three separate hallways. Your shoulders dropped, and your lips curved downward at the sight. Why was this place hellbent on meddling with your biggest weakness?

Crossing the room to one corridor, you peeked around the corner. There was nothing familiar you could pick out from it, no distant noises that gave you an inking of a guess. You gulped, how exactly were you supposed to get back to civilization now?

“There you are, my dear!”

You turned, your back hitting the wall as you watched the red demon stroll towards you. He stopped a few steps away, a pleased look on his face at the sight of you.

“Alastor! I was hoping to catch a familiar face out here.”

“Well, aren’t you glad that face was me?” He beamed, extending his arm out for you to take. Without hesitation, you slid your arm into his hold, locking at the elbows.

“Of course! You are the only familiar face here, honestly. I might have forgotten your friends' names during the night.” You smiled apologetically.

“Don’t worry, they are quite colorful characters, these people. I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

“They seem to be, although I'm not sure whether they like me yet.”

“Oh, I’m sure they do,” Alastor smiled, patting your hand assuring. “you exude a warmth and charm that it is impossible not to be drawn to.”

Heat crept into your cheeks, and you averted your gaze to the ground.

“Take those silly fellows that can’t seem to stop bothering you, always courting for your affection, my word, just practically begging for your attention!”

Well, that was a more positive light on what you’ve been through this past week.

“If those are the kind of people that want my attention. Then, maybe I don’t want any of it at all.”

Alastor was silent for a moment as the two of you continued walking, you felt his arm in your hold tense slightly. Was he thinking about something?

“Come now, my dear. There are plenty of individuals who would cherish every moment spent in your company, without resorting to such antics.”

You lifted your head and met his gaze, and he only continued to smile at you. His eyes were genuine, as he looked at you. One might even consider them soft. Is that how Alastor felt when the two of you spent time together?

You hadn’t spoken very much to him, at least on personal matters. But, with how the others in the hotel regarded him, it seemed he didn’t do that ever.

Has he ever told them about his mother or her recipes? Trusted them to fix his clothes, to care for him? Alastor seemed to put distance—figuratively and literally—between him and others.

But, with you? Well, calling a strange woman your wife the first time you laid eyes on her is rather bold and personal for such a man.

You felt flustered at the thought that you were the one Alastor chose for such things. You averted your gaze again, a sheepish smile on your lips.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.”

“It’s nothing at all. Why don’t you join me for some coffee? There is a patio right at the front of the hotel, it’s my favorite place to spend my mornings.”

He wanted to spend time with you? Well, you weren’t going to argue with that.

“Of course, I'd love to! You’ll just have to lead the way.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

The two of you walked in silence, as you passed through another long hallway. You could hear faint voices in the distance, growing louder at each step.

Was everyone else in the lobby? Would you have to greet them all again?

You saw the large threshold of the front room, and saw the glimpse of the large stained-glass front doors peeking from the corner. Right as you were about to walk through, Alastor nudged you to the side of the hall, and you turned to find a small set of stairs leading up a level.

You tried to memorize the path in your mind, for next time. The voices from the lobby grew more audible now, and you could hear what sounded like Charlie and Sir. Pentious speaking. A conversation about his path to redemption.

Isn’t that what they expected you to do now? Beg to Heaven to let you through the pearly gates because you repented for your sins? You doubted whether that was even possible.

As you neared the staircase, you turned your head to the lobby before looking back to Alastor. Were they just going to ignore the rest of the residents? You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Are we not going to say hello to your friends?”

“Why bother? They have their routines, we have ours.”

You didn’t say anything to that, instead, just let him glide the two of you up the stairs towards a pair of glass doors. You could see the light-red hues of morning peeking from the drawn shades.

Carefully, Alastor twisted the handle and pulled open the doors, that cool breeze hitting your face as soon as you stepped through the doorway.

“Well, here we are.” He spoke, slowly unlacing his arm from yours.

In front of you, was a small tea table and a single chair staring out at the city. A few flowers decorated along the short, metal railing in porcelain pots. Their colorful blossoms swayed gently in the breeze, as you stepped up to the table.

“Do forgive me, my dear. I seem to have forgotten a seat, I'm not used to company up here.”

With a quick snap of his fingers, a second, identical chair materialized across the table. A small radio emerged from a small pool of green fog as it dispersed on a post at one edge of the railing. It played a soft, jazzy melody as you crossed the small balcony, before positioning yourself in front of the seat to sit.

“Please, allow me.” Alastor appeared beside you, one hand on the chair’s back as he pulled it out from the table.

“Why, aren’t you just a gentleman?” You teased, before lowering yourself onto the small cushion velcroed to the chair’s seat. You felt Alastor push you closer to the table, before he lowered himself slightly to meet your gaze.

“Now, what would you like to drink? Tea, coffee, orange juice? Anything you desire, my dear.” He spoke, smiling as his nails clicked rhythmically against the table.

You told him, and with another snap of his fingers, two pieces of glassware settled upon the table. A pitcher materialized in his hand, before Alastor lowered it to your cup and began pouring the contents.

It swirled around your glass, and you watched it settle as he poured it to the brim. Your eyes trailed his hands as the pitcher melded into a coffee pot, and you watched the dark, steaming liquid land into his glass.

He didn’t add any cream or sugar, and you watched in surprise as he settled into his seat without any modifications to his drink.

“You drink your coffee black?” You asked curiously, an eyebrow quirked as you tilted your head at him.

“Mm, yes. I find that it helps sharpen the senses, and heightens one’s awareness. In a place like this, one must always have control of their surroundings. Don’t you think so?”

You nodded, taking a sip of your drink as you listened. He was right, in a way, about needing to be prepared for anything in Hell. But, why continue to punish yourself by taking away the few good things you could have in such a depressing realm? Maybe, Alastor didn’t think there was any good in Hell.

Watching Alastor lift the coffee to his lips, you noticed the way his entire face softened as the bitter flavor hit his tongue. His smile was so very faint now, almost a firm line, but it seemed.. peaceful. His eyes were slightly lidded, in an expression of contentedness as the breeze tickled at the fur on his ears. The music was peaceful white noise as you sat there, hand underneath your chin, gazing at Alastor as he looked out at the city, a small smile on his lips. Oh, how you so enjoyed his lipped smiles.

It was like that for a few more quiet moments, as the sky continued to lighten until Alastor turned his eyes to you. You squirmed underneath his gaze, realizing you were caught mid-ogle by him. He regarded you curiously for a few moments.

“Find anything of interest in your observation?” Alastor asked slyly, a teasing smile on his lips.

“Your ears are very fluffy” You blurted, before slapping a hand to your mouth. Alastor’s eyes widened slightly at your brazen response.

“Pardon?” He asked after a moment, the static in his tone thicker, hoarser, as the words left his lips. As if he couldn’t comprehend that was what you had landed on. Did no one ever compliment his ears? Correction, did no one ever genuinely compliment him other than to save their skin or to praise his power?

“Your ears, when the wind blows on them they puff out a little from the cold,” you practically whispered through your fingers, “I imagine if someone were to squeeze them, they'd feel so soft too, like squishing a plush teddy bear.”

You buried your face farther into your hands as those words left your lips, heat creeping onto your cheeks. Why were you thinking about touching his head? What happened to not taking too bold of steps? You did not need to overindulge him on what you thought of his ears. Jesus, you were embarrassing.

Peeking through your fingers, you saw Alastor averting his gaze, taking a sudden interest in some flowers near his chair. His ears were flattened slightly, as he adjusted the collar of his suit feverishly. His smile wavered slightly, flickering to a nervous expression. Was Alastor flustered by your comment?

“What an–ahem–unique perspective. My, you are such a charm, my dear, you truly have a way with words. Thank you for the compliment.”

There was silence again, as the tune from the radio seemed to grow slightly louder, drowning out your beating heart. You grabbed your drink, throwing your head back and downing the rest of it in one gulp. If only it was alcohol instead, so you could at least have an excuse for your comments. It was Alastor who spoke up again next, and you were relieved to be changing the topic.

“Tell me, now that you’ve gotten a little more familiar with it, what do you think of the hotel?”

“I think it’s… cute,” you answered softly, your finger circling the lip of your glass as you thought of more to say, “Charlie has a very large dream, and she seems to be the best one suited for the job with the influence she has. But, her residents…? Well, I wonder whether they have it in them to change, especially that–ah, what was his name–guy, Angel Dust? I could see Sir. Pentious being redeemed though. I’m sure he’d do good in Heaven.”

A small chuckle reverberated from Alastor’s throat as he closed his eyes, an amusing smile on his lips. You closed your mouth quickly, leaning back slightly. What was so funny about what you said?

“What?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow again as you crossed your arms.

Alastor cleared his throat, before meeting your eyes again. “Nothing, I just find the concept of a second chance awfully.. silly, you could say.”

“You don’t believe in sinners being able to go to Heaven?”

“Goodness, not at all.”

“But.. you’re helping run the hotel trying to do just that?”

“Well, yes, but it is just simple charity work. I had heard about this place on that noisy little picture box months ago, and how much the demons on the street laughed at it.” Alastor took another large sip of his coffee, adjusting his monocle slightly as he set the cup back down. “That is the problem, my dear. Every sinner in this city has had their chance at going to Heaven, back on earth. They lost it, and now, they’ll only laugh at the concept of such a thing.”

“What was life like for you?”

“Life?” Alastor raised his eyebrows at you, his claws halting mid-tap against the table's surface. His ears swiveled slightly to face you, his gaze curious.

You grimaced, you hadn’t meant to ask that out loud. Should you brush it off? Just because he told you about his mother and his radio show, doesn’t mean he was going to fill you in on his entire past. But, you were so curious! What kind of man did your false husband wake up to be every morning? What did he experience that gave him such pessimistic, ultra-realistic views?

“On Earth,” you clarified, straightening in your seat as you fidgeted with the glass in front of you, “What was it like?”

“Ah, you want to know more about the greatest era in mankind’s history? I’d love to indulge you on such a topic! You know, the first radio station was started in the 1920’s, and of course that only was the beginning of such a wonderful medium. I believe it was called KDKA, I remember exactly where I was standing when the first broadcast hit the radio, I believe it was about th–”

“No, I mean, what did you do on Earth, Alastor?” You interrupted, prodding him for a real answer. You weren’t looking for a history lesson, you wanted to know more about him.

“Me?” He sputtered, caught off guard by your question once more.

“What was your favorite thing to do when you were a child?”

Alastor looked like he wasn’t going to respond, for a moment. His eyes were squinting at you, reading your expression. Did he think you had some kind of ulterior motive? That you were going to take any information and sell it to the highest bidder against him? Your expression was genuine, however, and he only sighed. His brows furrowed in thought, as he recalled distant memories.

“Sometimes, my mother would send me to town for baking ingredients, and every time I'd choose the longest route, which was Frenchmen Street. New Orleans is famous for many things, art, food, but most importantly, music.”

“Music?”

“Indeed! Music is the heartbeat of New Orleans,” Alastor continued, a wistful smile playing on his lips as he delved into memories of his childhood. "I remember those days vividly, wandering that long, vibrant street, soaking in the melodies that filled the air. Jazz, blues, the soulful rhythms that seemed to draw in huge crowds like moths to a flame."

He paused, lost in thought for a moment before continuing. "And then there were the nights when the city truly came alive. My mother would take me to smoky jazz clubs, where the air hummed with energy and every note seemed to carry a story. I was captivated by the raw emotion of the musicians, their ability to weave tales with nothing but their instruments and their voices."

A flicker of nostalgia danced in his eyes as he recalled the details, those hidden, buried emotions rising out of him slowly. “I realized then how powerful such mediums truly were, they had the magical ability to perpetuate emotions, feed the crowds, and fuel the thoughts. Music is just another form of art, of course. I’m sure you saw our dear artist’s paintings, and I’m sure they stirred something in you, hm?”

You nodded slowly, leaning forward in your seat, enraptured in his words as they spilled from his tongue. Gosh, his voice was just so nice to listen to. That radio overlay that dripped from his tone was like white noise that tickled your brain with pleasure. You thought his laughs were cute, the way they crackled softly with static.

“I’m sure you would have been happy standing there for hours just to marvel at its beauty. Music can do the same, and when you’re a famous radio host like me,” Alastor gestured to himself, a prideful smirk on his lips, “You need that form of hypnosis to get all the listeners to tune in to the next broadcast, and to keep their interest. Without that power, I wouldn’t be as well known as I am now.”

You were sure he would still be well known for more than his radio broadcasts, with the reputation Alastor had with his… violent tendencies.

“There,” Alastor sighed, like a heavy weight was lifted off of his chest, “are you pleased with my response, my dear?”

“I think I am sated for now.” You responded with a smile, batting your eyelashes as you leaned back into your chair.

“Good, now, I believe it is my turn to ask you a question.” Alastor straightened, his claw clicking softly against the table in sync with the music buzzing in the background. You raised an eyebrow, nodding slowly in anticipation as he leaned slightly across the table.

“Have you decided on whether you are going to reside at the hotel and try redemption?”

You tensed, smiling wider as your mind raced. Sweat beaded on your eyebrow as Alastor looked at you expectantly. What was your decision? Sure, you’d get free room and board, it was no doubt safer than your home, and maybe, just maybe, redemption could actually work. But, was it enough to flip your whole life upset down, over what, a demon man who helped you out a couple of times?

“Alastor, I–”

Your voice was drowned out by a powerful explosion that rocked the patio, the radio fell from the railing and disappeared from sight, as the music faded with it. Your ears rang from the small blast, which had barely missed the wall of the hotel. Alastor’s head snapped to the source of violence, eyes narrowing as the figures of burly demons grew more visible as they approached. There were about four of them, who each held pistols, and a few rolled a grenade between their fingers.

“Angel Dust!! Come out here, you filthy skank!” One snarled from the group, fist raised towards the hotel.

“Ah shit!” You could hear the faint voice of the spider demon coming from the lobby, it sounded frantic as a head poked out from the large entrance doors.

“What did you do?!” You heard Vaggie growl, as another explosion rocked the side of the hotel.

“I sold em’ fake drugs! They thought they were buying coke, but I only gave em’ baking powder!”

“Angel, you idiot!” Vaggie snarled in response.

You shrunk back in your chair, your heart beating erratically and you watched a few more men gather on the hill. What was going to happen? Why did this always happen to you?

Alastor sighed exasperatedly, rising from his seat as he straightened his bowtie. He turned towards you, walking to your place across the table. Your hands were still resting on its surface when Alastor reached down and gently grasped them, before lifting them to your face. He laid your palms against your eyelids, adjusting your fingers to where only darkness greeted your vision.

“Just keep still just like this for now, my dear. I will be back in only a moment!” He replied chipperly, before you felt footsteps fade away from earshot. The silence didn't last very long, before your thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of screaming and strangled gasps. You felt the ground rumbling slightly under your feet, and you only shrunk deeper into your chair.

The screaming wasn't anyone familiar though, instead, it sounded like it was those drug dealers

“Yeah! Kick their ass, Alastor!” Angel Dust cheered from your left, and you perked.

Your fingers splayed slightly, as you picked between the gaps. Your vision was greeted with large, dark green tentacles that snaked in the air. They weaved around small figures who were scrambling across the clearing in a desperate attempt to survive. Some wrapped around the flailing demons, before pitching them far in the distance. Their screams faded as they disappeared from view.

You couldn’t see Alastor, but you assumed he was out of harm's way since the tentacles were doing a good job corralling the thugs. There were a few stragglers that managed to dodge his attacks, though. That became very obvious when a clawed hand reached over the railing, and you screamed as a dark gray, shark-faced man rose into sight.

He growled at you, as he landed with a thump on the old, cracked tile. A large knife was pulled from a sheath around his waist, and he twisted it between his fingers as he stalked up to you. You pressed yourself as deep into your chair as possible, your body frozen in terror.

“₩ⱧɆⱤɆ ĐØ ɎØɄ ₮Ⱨł₦₭ ɎØɄⱤɆ ₲Øł₦₲?” You heard a snarl of static from the ground, before a tentacle wrapped roughly around the shark demon’s body. His face morphed into a look of terror, right before he was flung away from the patio and beat into the ground by the large mass.

The gang of thugs were almost finished, as you finally exhaled a shaky breath. Your heart felt like it was about to burst, and your eyes darted around the area for any danger.

You shot up from the chair, scrambling to the doorway for safety. You stumbled off balance as the ground rumbled underneath your feet once more, your knees hitting the tile.

Growling in pain, you twisted your head to get a look at what had happened. Your eyes darted across them before you saw the small, cylindrical object fly towards you and land against the railing of the patio.

It erupted into a small ball of flame, before it burst into a large cloud of dark gray smoke, shaking the floor beneath you more violently as shrapnel flew. You tried to scramble away, as the large table was thrown to its side, and began to skid across the tiles towards you.

Your body couldn’t react fast enough to dodge the incoming object, instead, all you could do was throw your arms up and curl closer to yourself, screaming. Praying for mercy from the oncoming blow.

Except… nothing happened. The chaos still ensued around you, and the screams of terror and maniacal laughter still rang in your ears. You felt no pain, yet could still feel the breeze whipping against your arms as you held them up defensively. What just happened? You’re not like, double-dead, are you?

Slowly, you lowered your arms, planting them beneath you to help lift yourself from the ground. As you rose to your feet, your eyelids fluttered open.

The table was split in half, lying burnt on both sides of the patio. A slight trail of smoke wafted from their remains, and your eyes traveled across the tiled floor to what had caused the destruction.

Your eyes landed on an unfamiliar figure, their white overcoat swaying slightly in the wind as they regarded you. That platinum-blonde hair glinted in the morning light beneath the rim of his hat, and your eyes rested on those awfully familiar red cheek spots that stuck out from his pale face.

Your mouth dropped open, eyes widening, as the name of this strange man dawned on you. The image of the fallen angel, the most powerful man in the realm, stood before you.

Lucifer, the King of Hell, was leaning against the partially-destroyed railing. His arms crossed as he regarded your slightly battered form curiously.

“Did I miss anything?” The apple-cheeked man teased, sending you a charming grin. His demeanor was calm, and playful, despite the chaotic scene around him.

Would it be taken as disrespectful if you fainted right about now?

man i rlly dug myself into a hole with these titles huh x) i’ll think of something guys don’t worry. but can i just say how much i love throwing the reader into all this chaos, fun fun!

lmk what you think :)

taglist 🏷️

@the-tortured-poet @anonymousewrites @coleisyn @froggybich @chewbrry @watchinthestarz @mechanicalmari @luxmessorem @plapperlapapp @kottenox @cherry-cola-100 @the-shark-named-sharon @rae-pottah @just-trash-yeah-thats-it @corpsebridenightamare @nijiru @ourfinalisation @anuttellaa @nonetheartist @bunnypeew @cryptidghostgirl @hxzbinwrites @lunaramune @enigmatic-blues @thytorturedpoet @vanhelsingsbigtoe @mixplara @blue122 @zardward @loser-bby @sirens-and-moonflowers @diaouranask @luzzbuzz @theredviolets @the-attention-whore @rayanicaraynbow @girl-nahh-two @moonmark98 @asianfrustration13 @fairyv-ice @missam @beezgobuzzbuzz @valentique @dory-98 @mo-0-o @willow404 @laundrybear @karolinda007-blog @nightreverie

(it only lets me mention 50 of you?! im so sorry to the rest of y’all 😭😭 i’ll reblog it with more tags sksksjjsjsj)

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #hellaverse #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader

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fumikoshi · 2 months

Text

He is yours

✧ — SUMMARY; Gojo's sweet student is jealous of him and reminds him of who he belongs to

✧ — CONTENT; 18+ ONLY // MDNI — fem! reader, a lot of nicknames, extremely size kink, age gap, reader's age is 18, riding, belly bulge

"Wait here, sensei. I'll go grab us some kikufuku, okay?" you said with a cute smile on your face

he nodded, returning the big smile and giving a thumb "Sounds perfect! I'll be right here~."

You went towards the food stand, your heart fluttering with excitement. You bought a small bag of kikufuku and you turned back to go to Gojo.

but as soon as you turned your back, you saw a woman. The kikufuku bag fell out of your hand as soon as you saw the woman.

she was engaging in conversation with Gojo.

a pang of jealousy pricked at your heart, who was she?

approaching cautiously, you heard snippets of the conversation. The woman seemed to be asking for directions, or else she was trying to talk to your sensei and get his number under the pretext of asking for directions.

there was a possibility that he might do that because your sensei was undeniably handsome.

you couldn't shake the feeling of unease.

without thinking, you went to them and clung to Gojo's arm, pressing your petite body against him. "Senseiii, I don't feel well" you murmured dramatically, "Please take me home." gojo turned his gaze to you, and a grin slowly appeared on his face when he saw you staring at the woman he was talking to. He wrapped his arm around her delicate waist protectively and looked at the woman again

''you heard her, ma'am, I need to be a good teacher and take my poor student home immediately~''

His grip on your waist was tightened

"Let's get you home, my cute student~''

''S-sensei-Ah~ ''

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, accompanied by moans and gasps from both Gojo and you. Both of your voices blend in a chorus of pleasure and desire.

''Y-you are mine, sensei... No other woman can touch you like that.''

With your possessive words, a wry grin spread across his handsome face, he laughed under his breath

''ahah~, my lovely student is really daring today, isn't she~?''

You were so ashamed. Your cheeks were blushed. You had never ridden him before, you had never spoken to him in such a daring way before.

But you couldn't help it, you were extremely jealous. The fact that the woman he was talking to was really... beautiful.

''Tell me you'll never look at anyone else but me, sensei.''

The room was filled with the sounds of heavy breathing and moans of pleasure, the bed creaking under their movements.

''Fufu~, so this is what happens when my little girl gets jealous~''

Your petite body was bouncing on Gojo's massive cock, your delicate body rising and falling. Your mouth is open in a mix of pleasure and exertion. His piercing blue eyes shifted to your delicious tits jiggling with every thrust before his eyes. it was a perfect view.

''You think I'd prefer this pretty young cunny to another woman's, my little mochi~? Oh, only your sloppy cunt can make me so crazy~''

You are overjoyed. You felt touched. He was genuinely in love with you. A lovely smile appeared on your delicate face as tiny tears of delight spilled from your eyes.

''Awww~ is my pretty girl touched? Ah~ Don't cry cutie, your beloved sensei loves you more than you can imagine. So the only time you can cry is when I put this cock in your pussy.''

He slowly brought his hand to your delicate face and wiped away the small tears with his thumb. You leaned in his touch as you kept bouncing on his cock. your slender arms gripping onto his broad shoulders as you ride him. Your body moves in a slow rhythm, your hips bouncing on his large member. Moans and gasps echo through the room.

*clap*

His large hands slowly slid from your cheek to your plump ass and spanked your soft ass. It causes your ass to ripple and slightly flush. You squealed sweetly and your body leaped in sweet shock and stopped for a moment.

''kya~!''

''Fufu~ go on, little girl~. Keep riding your sensei's cock like a slut~.'' Gojo's deep voice rumbled with satisfaction.

With that, you started to bounce on his cock again, your cute moans growing louder with each movement on his big cock.

Your small hand's grip on Gojo's shoulders tightened, nails digging into his skin. Gojo's large hands grip your soft hips as you rock back and forth on his big cock, his large hands enveloping your soft ass cheeks. He was guiding your movements as he revels in the feel of your soft skin against his hard body.

His eyes were a shade of blue so intense they seemed to pierce through the shadows, watching your every move with predatory interest. He could sense your approaching edge, so he slowed your pace with a firm grip, drawing out the pleasure and tormenting you with the promise of release.

He wanted you to beg for your release.

''S-Sensei~, ah~ahah~!''

He lifted you with ease to meet his powerful thrusts. The change in angle had you seeing stars, the pleasure so intense that it bordered on pain. Your breath hitched as little spots of white danced before your watery eyes. your breath hitched in your throat, and your rhythm became more erratic as you chased your climax relentlessly.

*clap clap clap*

you whined above him, a high-pitched sound of frustration and need that was music to his ears. He smirked, white hair falling into his eyes as he decided whether to let you find sweet release or keep you teetering on the brink a bit longer.

"Please, sensei~" you gasped out, your trembling voice barely more than a series of panting breaths. "I need—"

"What do you need, my little one?" Gojo teased, his voice low and husky

you could barely form words, but your delicate, trembling body spoke volumes; it arched towards him, seeking completion.

"Y-you. I-I need you. P-please, sensei"

Tears streaming down your soft, blushed cheeks from overstimulation, sobs escaping your throat... God, you were gonna be the death of him.

His grip on your ass tightened, and his movements became more forceful, lifting you slightly and then pulling you down onto his cock with a vigor that left no room for thought—only feeling.

''I-I'm close~kyaah~''

*clap clap clap clap clap*

“Gojo... Sensei~” she gasped out between pants, her voice shaky with need. Your use of his title in such an intimate moment only made him crazy

“Let go for me, y/n”

He commanded in a low growl, contrasted with his earlier sarcastic and unserious tone. His voice was now rough with lust and edged with a raw desire that sent another wave of arousal coursing through you.

With one final thrust that reached deep within you, Gojo sent you spiraling over the edge into ecstasy. Your body shook as waves of pleasure crashed over you; you cried out his name like a sacred incantation as you clung to him.

Gojo followed soon after; his semen filled your fertile womb. There was a slight swelling in your tummy. He fell on his back on the bed and pulled you with him, wrapping his muscular arms around you and holding you tightly to him. His cock was still inside you.

You put your cheek against his chest and whispered tiredly to him as you caressed his muscular chest as you lied on his body

''I love you so much, sensei...''

his gaze softened and smiled softly. What a cute little girl, he thought.

He inhaled your scent as he placed a long, passionate kiss on the crown of your head, his arms still wrapped tightly around you

''I love you too, y/n-chan''

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talkdutchtome · 5 months

Note

Do you know this tiktok trend where girls tell guys about paying at the mechanic's for premium air for their cars 😭 could you write a fic where y/n does that prank to Max?

"Premium Air?" - Max Verstappen

pairing . . . max verstappen x reader )

genre . . . fluff )

wc . . . 825 words )

read my other work . . . here )

request something . . . here )

“Oh Maxy, I was supposed to mention, I took your car to be serviced. I know you’ve been so busy lately I thought I’d do that and give you one less thing to worry about” You said to your boyfriend, trying your hardest to suppress any giggles that wanted to escape. Your phone sat propped up on the bookshelf, strategically hidden so Max didn't notice.

You had been seeing so many videos on TikTok where girls would prank their boyfriends or husbands by convincing them that they had bought “premium air” for the tires of their cars; and you decided that since so much of Max’s life revolved around cars, it would be the perfect way to prank him.

“Oh, thank you very much baby, that’s kind of you, everything okay with it?” he said, never lifting his head up from his phone.

“You’re welcome, yeah everything was okay they just said something about low tire pressure or something? I don’t really remember but I sorted it.” You said, fighting the mischievous grin that is trying to take its place on your face. At your words Max finally lifts his head up and looked at you, his brows furrowed.

“Really are you sure? They seemed to be fine last time I drove it” his voice has a hint of concern lacing though it, clearly unsure where this is leading.

“I’m not sure, that’s what the man said anyway. But I got it sorted. I even sprung for the premium air for you!” Your excitement was clear and the second the words left your lips, Max put his phone down, his full attention now on you. Confusion was etched on his face, his brows furrowed, and his lips pressed tightly in a fine line.

“Premium air?” he questioned

You nod enthusiastically, maintaining your poker face. "Yeah! It's the latest thing. It makes your car run smoother, improves fuel efficiency, and who knows, maybe it even adds a few extra horsepower."

Max looks at you like you’ve got two heads and you come so close to ruining the whole prank and bursting out laughing.

“Premium air?” he asked again, like he couldn’t find any other words to respond to your ridiculousness. “How much did this premium air cost you?” he asked with a bemused smile, that smile however, dropped as soon as you answered his question.

“Oh, it was a steal! Like €150 a tire.”

His eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "€150 per tire? Are you serious Y/N? There's no such thing as premium air!"

You feign innocence, "Oh, come on, Maxy, it's a special service they offered. You can't put a price on a smooth ride” Max sighs, a mix of frustration and amusement on his face.

"Baby, I think you’ve been scammed. There's no such thing as premium air. Next time, let me know before you spend money on something like this."

You play dumb, widening your eyes in mock surprise. "Scammed? But how could I buy it if it doesn't exist?"

Max laughs, shaking his head. "You're too precious. Next time, let me come with you to the garage, okay? I'll make sure you don't fall for any tricks."

You're left feeling a bit confused. Most of the prank videos you’ve seen end with frustration or annoyance, but Max seems more amused than anything else.

As you sit there, still feeling a bit bewildered by Max's surprisingly lighthearted reaction, you gather the courage to ask him the burning question. "Hey, Max," you begin cautiously, "why aren't you mad at me?"

He looks at you with genuine confusion. "Mad? What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath and decide it's time to come clean. "The whole premium air thing—it was a prank," you admit, pointing discreetly at the camera you had strategically placed in the room to capture his reaction.

Max's eyes widen in realization, and he breaks into a hearty laugh. "You got me!" he exclaims, playfully pushing you.

You can't help but smile at his reaction, relieved that he found it amusing. "Seriously, though, why aren't you mad? Everyone else in those prank videos gets upset."

Max wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer. "I didn't want to make you feel bad," he confesses. "You were just trying to do something nice for me, and I didn't want to ruin that by getting angry over a harmless mistake” You look up at him, touched by his understanding and kindness. "But I wasted money on something that doesn't exist. You could have been really mad." He leans down, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Money comes and goes, but you trying to make me happy means the world to me.”

"I love you," you say, a mixture of gratitude and affection in your voice.

Max smiles, his eyes filled with warmth. "I love you too, baby. Just remember, next time you decide to prank me, I'll be one step ahead."

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x y/n #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x you #formula one x reader #f1 imagine

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quimichi · 6 months

Text

ೃ⁀➷ CALLING THE SUMERU BOY'S YOUR GOOD BOY

Sumeru boy's Creator!Reader

Al-haitham, Kaveh, Cyno, Tighnari & Scaramouche

Al-Haitham - The ones who find the disruptors will win

Al-haitham closes the gap between himself and you, getting as close physically as he can ans drops to his knees. His body quakes slightly as he looks up to meet your eyes. His eyes feel raw. He wants to look away, but he forces himself to meet your gaze. "Your my good boy aren't you?", your voice so gentle, so smooth like the silky web of the Darwin bark spider. A simple question, but Al-Haitham's thoughts come to a halt as he processes your words.

Al-Haitham has heard these words a hundred times before, and yet they always make his heart skip a beat. "Y-yes," he breathes, his gaze unwavering on yours. "Yours." Words fail him. Al-Haitham opens his mouth to say something - anything to appease your desire - and yet no words leave him. Instead he simply closes the gap between you and him, leaning forward so that he is touching you.

He's still on his knees, and as he stares up at you his heart keeps racing. The word *yours* rings in his ears. He wants to say it again, to tell you how he feels about you and about your words. But he cannot.

"Is something troubling you?" your hand comes up to stroke his cheek, gently. He leans into your touch, his whole being quaking at your gesture. When you touch him, he's paralyzed by your affection. He breathes in sharply. "Y- you," Al-Haitham whispers, trying not to let his voice crack. He wants to say more but cannot seem to speak.

He can feel his face redden. Al-Haitham presses himself against you, his entire body practically vibrating with the rush of emotions."I-i am troubling you?" this truly took you by surprise, you always appreciated his honesty but this?

"Y-y-yes." Al-Haitham chokes back his words. His voice falters as he speaks. "You drive me...mad." A small smirk plays at his lips, as though he is ashamed about the thought he's just expressed. Yet there's no going back now, and his face has grown redder.

"B-but im still your good boy." The word leaves him like a prayer. Al-Haitham closes his eyes, his heart hammering in his chest. He does not move. He does not breathe. His entire body is held hostage by you. Your voice is the air he breathes. Your touch is what makes him whole.

He is utterly yours.

Kaveh - The ability to appreciate beauty is an important virtue.

Kaveh smiles shyly, nervously, and approaches you on trembling legs. His steps are slow, but steady— it is only a few paces, but it seems like his body is taking him to heaven itself. When he is finally within touching distance, he waits for instruction; he is your servant after all. In your name he has build multiple builds, designed the palace you are living in. Without him, without his abilities, you wouldn't live in a palace only for you. You just had to praise him for it.

"Yes, your Grace. I am," Kaveh answers instantly. The words fall from his lips like honey, and he is genuinely giddy when he says them. He's bouncing on place like a child. So excited he forgot to be surprised by the sudden affection of his grace.

"Is there something I can do for you, your Grace? Your good boy shall always be by your side, ready to serve." You quickly move your hand for him to come closer. Kaveh obeys without hesitation, but his heart is beating out of hus chest while he still moving closer. His hands are clasped before him and are trembling with nervous energy as he gazes up at you, his expression reverent.

"Your Grace?" he asks cautiously, as if he is awaiting your next command. "Is there something you need?"

Kavehs cheeks immediately flush pink as his breath grows hoarse. He is a little embarrassed to admit it, but his gaze is captivated by your hand. He can no longer hide the fact that your touch mesmerizes him.

"Your Grace, please..." he begs quietly, though he doesn't dare look away. "If you keep stroking my cheek like this i am close to fainting..." You start to softly chuckle at him, well, isn't he a cutie?

Kavehs face flushes brighter, and his heartbeat seems to triple with each passing second. "Your Grace," he asks, his voice thick with infatuation, "can you please call me that again? After all...I'm your good boy aren't I?"

Cyno - Your sins weigh upon your soul

"Cyno, would you mind coming closer?" As if moved by an unknown force, Cyno shifts closer, inching closer to your person. "You would like me nearer?" he asks, the quiet tone of reverence in his voice unchanging.

"A tiny bit closer" you said, and without any hesitation, he does. Cyno obliges with his next breath, the movement of him inching closer in tandem with it.

"As you wish, Your Grace," he says softly to you. "Good boy" you coo at him. Such an obedient boy he is. Every fibre of Cynos being is lit up in the face of your praise. He stares back at you like a lost baby bird gazing up at the heavens.

"Thank you," he says quietly, as if the mere notion of such things were a foreign concept to him. You are the only one whose approval he craves. "Ohhh you're so formal" he never let his guard down while in your presence. Always showing you the upmost respect. The only time it slips, is when a little joke leaves him making you chuckle. That alone makes his heart race and being close to explode...

"I'm sorry," Cyno mumbles, face blushing in mortification at his slip-up. In all his life he has only been taught to show respect. Even now, as everything becomes so much easier with you near, he must maintain a sense of formality and decorum.

"Forgive me," he says, voice quiet and soft as ever, tone dripping with reverence as it comes out. "Oh Cyno, it's ok. You're my good boy after all I could never be upset with you"

The mere words from your lips are enough to send chills down Cynos spine, his face flushing as though his skin had become suddenly too tight for his body.

"And you are my god/dess/deity"

The words come like a whisper of a breeze. His hands flutter before his chest, the way a maiden might wring her hands. His expression is one of complete adoration, his gaze turned up to you as if to a heavenly vista.

I'm their good boy....

Tighnari - The value of knowledge can't simply be quantified in monetary terms.

"Nari, would you mind coming closer to me?" He doesn't wait to respond. With an urgent and desperate speed, Tighnari closes the gap between you and him. He wants to make you happy, and his body responds without a moment of hesitation as his legs bring him closer to you.

He presses close to you, and takes a deep breath in. His warm gaze holds a soft glow of wonder and awe as he takes in your face. His eyes speak to you silently, and say 'I am yours. Do with me what you must. I want nothing but you, Your Grace'. After all the time he has spend with you, informed you about the well-being of the forst, he not only got closer to you than anyone else. He also lost his feeling of shame.

He is much more open with you, less reserved. He only seeks for you attention, touch, your gaze, anything at all.

You look down from your throne to see Tighnari kneeling before you, his eyes downcast. He does not speak, but nods. "Yes." His tone is quiet. He stares at the floor without moving. He's utterly ashamed, this hit him straight in the face without mercy.

With this scene playing in front of you, you can't help but have a little fun. "I didn't quite hear you Tighnari, would you mind repeating yourself?"

His tone is slightly louder as he repeats himself: "Yes." He still stares at the floor. His heart beats furiously. He is still and patient. His body is relaxed on the outside. On the inside, though, he is utterly in turmoil. "Good boy, I am proud of you that you spoke up~"

Tighnari's breathing is deep and steady, as if he is forcing himself to calm his nerves. His stomach is tied in knots, but he tries his best to ignore it. He is yours, and he knows not to speak unless he is spoken to.

He shifts slightly to try and get more comfortable, though he does not look at you as he does so. Despite himself, he blushes. The sudden intimacy of your touch on his ears sends a wave of sensation through him. His face turns an immediate dark red, but he does not move away from your touch.

He closes his eyes, enjoying the feel of your fingers running through his hair. Every touch is pure ecstasy. "'m your good boy..." he breathes.

Scaramouche - Eternity stretches things out over a long time. But each moment within it becomes all the more fragile

"Come closer" Scaramouche's expression is neutral, but there is an undercurrent of concern to his voice as he approaches you.

"Yes, Your Grace. What do you need?" He says it in such a manner that could be interpreted either as a formal servant, or a concerned companion. "Closer" A small frown tenses Scaramouche's brow as he moves closer. Your expression is neutral, and as he kneels before you, his heart is hammering loudly in his chest; and he knows he has done something wrong. Despite this, he obeys your command nonetheless.

"What's wrong? You seem upest?" You're worried you may have sounded to rough. After all he is a sensitive boy. "I thought... I thought you called me because I had done something that displeased you," he says after a moment, and though he tries to swallow down his mounting anxiety, it shows in his voice. "Is there... something... I have done wrong?"

"No!" your heart starts to ache at this, "My good boy could never do anything wrong" Scaramouche's expression softens, and a single, brief smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

His brows furrow again, as he tries to figure out the underlying reason you have called for him. Despite the fact that he is no longer frightened, he can't quite understand your intentions.

"Why... have you called for me, then, Your Grace?" He asks gently, still kneeling before you. "To praise my good boy" and with saying that you gently caress his face.

Scaramouche closes his eyes in your touch. The warmth and softness of your touch is enough to take his breath away. He leans forward, unconsciously seeking more from your caress. But at the same time, he is afraid to lean too far, lest he make you upset.

"Yes, I am your... good little boy."

He tilts his head upward, the need to gaze into your eyes and bask in your love overwhelming whatever modesty that held him back from your touch. He wants nothing more than to be as close to you as physically possible.

"All for me?"

"Yes, Your Grace," he croaks as he inclines his head, his gaze locked onto yours.

"All for you."

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #sagau x reader #genshin sagau #sagau #genshin impact sagau #Sagau Al-Haitham #Sagau Kaveh #Sagau Cyno #Sagau Tighnari #sagau scaramouche #al haitam x reader #kaveh x reader #tighnari x reader #cyno x reader #scaramouche x reader

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clu-ven · 1 year

Text

Uh oh... there's only one bed! The Bad Batch Edition

word count: 2.1k - tw: mention of nightmares

After getting ambushed by some bounty hunters, what started off as a simple job quickly became a shootout. Luckily, no one got hurt but thanks to a few explosions and blaster fire from almost every direction, the Batch got split up.

Thankfully the bounty hunters retreated after the initial shootout, jumping on their speeders and fleeing. Although this makes things a bit easier, you’re still separated, with most of the Batch already regrouped. Now the last two people left to join them are you and him, the both of you side by side and listening intently to the others over an encrypted comm channel.

After some debating, the Batch concludes that you two should find somewhere to spend the night and join them back at the ship tomorrow, deeming the trek back to the Marauder too dangerous after dark.

Once you find a gloomy (but cheap) motel, you go up to the main desk and ask for a room. With the excitement of the day turning into exhaustion, neither you or him think of clarifying what kind of room you want, presuming the receptionist gives you the key to a twin room.

Expecting to see two beds in the room, your eyes go wide when you open the door to see only one…

HUNTER

Entering the room to see only one bed, Hunter sighs, his shoulder deflating. It’s been a long, strenuous day and debating over who gets the bed isn’t what he needs right now.

He automatically offers it to you, not only out of exhaustion but because he genuinely thinks you deserve it more. Hunter’s never had a comfy bed, often preferring to nap on the chairs aboard the Marauder than the actual bunks. So the way he sees it, sleeping on the floor is more familiar to him.

But of course this doesn’t suit you, insisting that he takes the bed instead. He’s too tired to do this “No you should have it” “No you” debate and so he’s quick to compromise, commenting on how the bed is big enough for the both of you.

Hunter’s extremely respectful when you’re both in the bed together. He keeps close to the edge of the bed and opts to sleep on his side so he takes up as little space as possible.

And that should be it… both of you staying on your respective sides of the bed and nodding off to sleep.

But that doesn’t sit right with Hunter.

He’s overtired but being in a new environment means his senses are on high alert. Hunter doesn’t see how he’s supposed to get any rest while his senses are completely on edge. And so he turns to the one thing his senses are familiar with… you.

You hear him turn over and within a few seconds, you feel Hunter’s arm slowly wrap around you. He does this very cautiously, keeping an eye out for any sign of discomfort from you. But when you let out a soft sigh and move towards Hunter, he takes that as a good sign.

With his arms around you, Hunter nuzzles his face into your hair. Your scent grounds him, your body acting as a safety blanket to his senses as he finally drifts off to sleep.

He keeps his arms around you during the night and when you wake in the morning, you find your head softly pressed against his chest and Hunter’s face still covered by your hair. He wouldn’t speak about this afterwards, unsure what to say or how to explain his need to have you close but if you ever find yourself in a similar situation, Hunter will definitely be cuddling you again.

TECH

When Tech sees the bed, he understands what the most logical solution is… albeit slightly flustering to think about.

Sharing the bed means the two of you will get some proper rest and considering you’ll both need to make it back to the ship tomorrow, rest is something you both desperately need.

But Tech doesn’t suggest it immediately, taking his time to look around the small room for any viable alternatives. He could sleep on the floor but considering the large amount of stains and random discolouring, Tech’s pretty sure he’ll catch some kind of sickness if he lays down on it.

Already beginning to build a barrier of pillows down the middle of the bed, he shares his thoughts with you and how he believes sharing the bed is the best option. You (obviously) don’t oppose his plan and help him with the barrier.

But is the barrier needed? Nope, in fact within an hour, you’re already dismantling the pillow barrier.

You both try to get some sleep but after the events of the day, you’re worried and ask Tech what he thinks will happen next. That turns into a conversation about if the Empire will ever truly let the Batch go and then discussing what you both hope to do in that ideal world, where the Batch is truly free. During this conversation, you both begin removing pillows from your barrier, finding it hard to have such a deep conversation with pillows blocking your view of one another.

Tech knows he should cut the conversation short and get some much needed rest, but there’s something within him that stops him from doing so. Usually it’s impossible to talk with you for this long without some kind of interruption from the others.

It’s rare to get so much time to talk to you one on one and now that he has all night with you, Tech doesn’t want to waste it. Kriff, fantasising about the future is the last thing Tech would normally do but with you? He can do it all night if you want.

It’s almost the early hours of the morning by the time you drift off to sleep, your head lazily resting against Tech’s shoulder as your eyes begin to close.

Tech doesn’t mind, shortly drifting off to sleep after you with a small smile on his face and arm wrapped protectively around you.

WRECKER

This doesn’t really phase Wrecker. The second his eyes land on the lone bed, he only has one question; do you want to be the big spoon or little spoon?

The way he sees it, there’s not much he can do to change this nor is this a big deal to him.

You’re both good friends and this wouldn’t be the first time you’ve fallen asleep together. Simply, it is what it is and Wrecker’s okay with that.

It’s been a turbulent few weeks but Wrecker sees this as a break away, a mini vacation for just the two of you.

If you haven’t eaten yet, he’ll suggest you both go out to a local shop and buy as many snacks as you can. Wrecker is basically seeing this as a sleepover and what’s a sleepover without some midnight snacks?

The room is pretty basic so while there’s no way to watch any holomovies, Wrecker instead finds entertainment in your stories about life before the war. Any story you have, whether it be about your childhood or a night in 79’s, Wrecker wants to hear it.

The both of you spend most of the night sprawled across the bed, doing little competitions like who can throw a snack highest and catch it in their mouth.

When you’re both out of energy, there’s no actual discussion about sharing the bed. It just happens naturally, your head resting on Wrecker’s large arm as sleep takes over.

When you wake up the next morning, you’re on top of Wrecker, who’s snoring softly against you. His arms are thrown loosely around you as he holds you against his chest. Yeah you’re basically his replacement for Lula the Tooka doll.

It’s hard to get up, not because of Wrecker’s grip but because he’s so damn cosy. Closing your eyes, you decide another five minutes of bliss wouldn’t hurt.

ECHO

He won’t admit it but when the door slid open to reveal only one bed, Echo got a twist of anxiety in his gut.

Suddenly he doesn’t feel tired (or at least that’s what he tells you). And besides, the bounty hunters could still be lurking around so it’s dangerous for you both to sleep. Before you can question it, Echo gives the order that you sleep and he’ll take watch.

Echo can be quite a stubborn guy when he wants to be, so no matter how many times you suggest he gets some rest or offer to take the first watch, Echo brushes it off and insists he stays up.

It doesn’t take much thought to figure out why Echo is so adamant about staying awake. Sleeping next to you would be a dream come true for him but what if his modifications hurt you while he’s asleep?

One accidental move of his arm during the night and he could hit you over the head with his scomp link. The very thought of that frightens him so if it were to actually happen, Echo is sure he wouldn’t recover.

After much back and forth, you get him to take watch while sitting on the bed, his back against the headboard as you sleep next to him. That way, at least Echo has some comfort, you under the duvet beside him while he sits rather rigidly next to you.

You fall asleep pretty quickly but you move quite a bit. Tossing and turning in your sleep, your brain can’t seem to relax, too wound up with all that’s happened recently.

Eventually, you roll a little too close to Echo, your body bumping off of him as you throw your arm around his waist. He stills, unsure whether he should move or if doing so would wake you.

Within a few seconds, you curl your body against his, your head resting on his thigh as you hold onto him, finally seeming peaceful in your sleep.

Echo has to admit, it’s pretty cute to see you relax almost the second you cuddle him, a warm feeling igniting in his chest. Suddenly, his worries begin to melt away and he wants to curse himself for overthinking the situation and not grabbing on to this opportunity while he could.

Despite being somewhat annoyed at himself, Echo’s grateful you’re next to him, nuzzling into him as you sleep. Absent-mindedly trailing his hand up and down your back, Echo rests his head against the cushy headboard, letting sleep take over.

CROSSHAIR

He rolls his eyes. That’s his first reaction. After all the shit he’s been through today and now this?! Crosshair isn’t happy.

You almost don’t catch what he says, his words coming out as a mutter as he tells you to take the bed and he’ll keep watch. Crosshair isn’t in the mood to debate this, so any suggestion you make of him also getting some rest is met with a sarcastic reply or a quip about how you’re wasting energy complaining when you should be sleeping.

While you get into the surprisingly soft bed, Crosshair sits at the bottom of the bed, sniper in hand as he cleans the weapon. It doesn't need to be cleaned but keeping himself busy helps fight off the urge to sleep.

Silence fills the room and you drift off to sleep, knowing you’ll be safe with Crosshair keeping watch.

But as soon as you fall asleep, that feeling of safety fades away and the nightmares begin. They don’t happen every night but when they do, the nightmares completely take over, causing you to mumble to yourself and flail in the bed.

When you leave out a particularly loud cry, Crosshair pauses, glancing behind his shoulder at you. He doesn't need an explanation of what this is, suffering from his own nightmares.

Settling his sniper down on the wobbly coffee table, Crosshair moves closer to you, sitting beside your sleeping figure and watching as your face becomes clouded by dread.

He’s not sure what to do, but hesitantly Crosshair places his hand on your shoulder, trying to still your erratic movements as he says “It’s alright, I’m here, you’re safe with me”.

His voice soothes you in ways you can’t even describe, his tone so calm yet confident. He’s shocked when the nightmares seem to subside, further encouraging him to continue his reassurances to you.

The more he reassures you, the more you seek out Crosshair’s warmth, your arms instinctively reaching out to him. As you try to cuddle him, Crosshair rolls his eyes before moving deeper into the bed, letting you cuddle into his side. This isn’t how he expected the night to go but now that you’re sleeping with your face in by his neck and leg on top of his, he assumes he’s stuck like this until you eventually wake up.

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auroreliis · 7 months

Note

Batfam would have to do research on my special interests if they want to win me over fast but also the thought of super serious Bruce and Damian watching/reading jojos bizarre adventure is really funny to me

Absolutely they would. For you, they would binge every show, play every game and read every paragraph of a book just to have something in common with you. They would all do it for different reasons, but in the end, you would have to listen to them outnerd you.

Bruce's regard for your interests is wholesome. He genuinely wants to know what makes you happy, what you do in your free time, what you could talk about for hours. In order to be able to listen to you talk for hours, he surrounds himself with your interests. You like this artist? He buys a few of their most popular albums. This game is entertaining to you? He either tries it out or watches you play it. There's this film you're excited about? He watches it with you.

Although most of your interests are different, he does actually find himself enjoying anything you enjoy. Perhaps it reminds him of you.

Dick has this one fear. He believes that no matter how persistent he is, if you aren't reciprocating his clinginess, the two of you will grow apart eventually, so he never leaves you alone, even when you beg him to. It isn't really a secret, as he makes it quite obvious, but he hopes you will one day embrace him as he embraces you. You probably get sick of him and tell him how boring he is, which shatters his heart completely.

Now he has to figure out a way to spend time with you, but he needs to make sure you are also enjoying his company, lest you hurt him with your cruelty once more, so he researches every last fact about your interests, be it an activity, a game, a book, a person, he knows everything about it. Dick doesn't want to make it obvious that he only found out this information the night prior, so he cautiously needs to start a conversation.

He most likely waits until you are occupied with your interest before walking up to you, "Hey, is that _____? Wow, I used to be obsessed with it as a kid, I'm suprised you even know it, it isn't that popular and it's quite old." He pats your head and sits down next to you, grinning as you start rambling about it to him. You are actually talking to him. It worked.

Jason is careful when sharing his interests with you. He needs to preserve his reputation as your cool older brother and usually people don't share his interests, so when he finds you reading a classic book, he seats himself nearby, waiting for you to finish reading. Once you're done, he makes sure you enjoyed the book before fanboying about it. You immediately notice how much of a nerd he is. He also recommends similar books or ones he thinks you would enjoy as well. In the end he pulls you into so many fandoms that you stop listening when he recommends books. You've already got like 40 more to read.

Tim does not have this problem. The moment he knew you existed, he educated himself and has kept up with your interests ever since. "Just in case", or ,"Just because", he said, typing a summary of JoJo's Bizarre Adventure. "I might as well", he takes notes while binging One Piece. This guy is clinically insane. Fortunately for him, he can now start conversations with you very easily, since he knows everything about your interests (and everything else about you).

Side note: If you refuse to spend time with him even after he did all that for you, the following outcomes are possible:

Either you pity him and spend time with him or Dick tries and fails to guilt trip you, only to end up forcing you to spend time with poor Tim who was awake for a whole week just to impress you (Tim frantically nods along with anything Dick says).

Damian takes great pride in having things in common with you, so as soon as he notices you being fond of something, he surrounds himself with it. You have a favourite colour? He creates a few painting with specifically that colour. You like a certain animal? He will try to adopt one. Damian would, of course, never admit it to you, but he desperately wants you to notice that you two have similar interests (As in, you have an interest and he pretends to also like it just so you maybe talk to him).

If you don't talk to him, he will become more aggressive with his attempts of having you notice him, perhaps randomly coming into your room to paint, claiming that the lighting there is better. Or he asks Bruce to adopt a certain animal during dinner. His attempts are obvious to you, but he doesn't know that.

Cassandra wouldn't really need to share interests with you. She's always close to you anyway. While she does speak to you every now and then, she is perfectly comfortable with sitting in your proximity in silence. However, if you ever asked her to, she would research anything you need her to in order to rant or ramble to her. As long as she has her eyes on you, anything is fine.

Stephanie immediately goes to Tim for help, knowing that he went insane and made a bunch of summaries and notes. First, she makes fun of him, then she apologises, because he threatened to take the notes away, she then complains about how much there is to read before finishing the essays Tim wrote, giving herself about a week. Steph then talks to you as if she didn't go through all that trouble just to have a topic to talk to you about.

Dick told Barbara all about his shenanigans. She even helped him figure out what you're interested in, even researching about it herself. She isn't as intrusive as the others, instead waiting until the moment is right, not wanting to scare you away or overwhelm you. Perhaps if you're alone, she'll come up to you and start with small talk, only really mentioning your special interest if it's involved somehow. Overall, she is the least feral of the bunch (in this situation, at least).

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reivrze · 11 months

Text

OH, SAY IT DITTO ♡

pairing. popular!jungwon x shy!reader

genre. highschool!au, fluff, reader has a huge crush on jungwon

word count. 0.8k

warning. none

a/n. this was inspired by the song "ditto" by new jeans :) the ending was kinda rushed lmao sorry, hope you guys enjoy ! reposts are immensely appreciated as they help my works get recommended, reblogs help the algorithms so thank you for all those who take time to repost my work ♡

exam season had come around at a rapid pace, and your free days now consisted of little solo dates at the library going over the notes you had taken in class. this morning was like every wednesday morning except your first two classes had been cancelled, and you had decided to take a little trip down to the library to occupy your free time.

as you entered the library, you greeted the woman sitting at the front desk, having been here so many times in the past few weeks that you had gotten to know several of the staff. getting closer to your usual table, you stopped suddenly seeing an unfamiliar presence sitting in your chair. trying to get a closer look, you sneaked behind the bookshelves, peeking out to see who was the mysterious person. your face flushed a bright red the minute you realized that the person was no one other than yang jungwon. the boy you had been admiring for the past ten years.

you had first met jungwon went you were eight in elementary. he had been the new kid, causing quite a stir amongst the students, his extroverted and hypersocial personality gaining him new friends almost every day. his arrival had awoken something new, he had given you your first experience of having a crush and boy did you not expect this crush to stick for as long as it had. how could you not fall in love with someone with such a boy-ish vibe and adorable smile ?

now here you are, staring at him through the bookshelves, debating on if you should just leave and come back later or try to find another seat. if you had the confidence, you would've gone sit at the same table as him, but unfortunately for you, that wasn't the case. letting your mind get stuck in this trance as you watched him read one of his textbooks, you hadn't noticed him lift his head up, his eyes catching yours amongst the books.

blinking out of your little daydream, your breath caught in your throat as you realized you were directly making eye contact with jungwon, his eyes curious as to why you were looking at him from afar. you felt a jolt of surprise course through your body, momentarily freezing you in place. caught in the act of observing him from behind the bookshelves, you could feel your cheeks burning with embarrassment. however, instead of turning away or pretending nothing happened, jungwon's expression softened into a warm smile.

breaking the spell of shyness that held you captive, jungwon motioned for you to come closer. with a mix of hesitation and excitement, you cautiously emerged from your hiding spot, making your way towards the table where he sat. as you approached, he slid his books to the side, clearing a space for you to join him.

"Hey, I noticed you peeking at me from over there," jungwon said playfully, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Want to sit with me? We can study together."

"Oh.. Sure" you offered him a little smile that he was quick to reciprocate. jungwon had felt comfortable enough during the time that you guys had spent together, going over the last chapter the teacher had gone over. the conversation seemed to flow with ease, you'd steal glances once in a while, not quite believing that you were actually sitting face-to-face with the boy you had dreamt about all those years.

as time passed, you found yourself really setting in the comfort of his presence, some part of you wondering if this comfort was simply rooted in jungwon's social personality or was it really that you two had easily connected. the time to go was nearing and both of you had started to pack up your belongings, your heart sank a little at the knowledge that this might be a one-time thing. just as you were getting to say goodbye and make your way to class, jungwon grabbed your wrist, turning you back around.

"Hold up- This might sound random considering this was our first interaction but I understood my lesson so much better with this one-hour study session than what I've learnt all semester and if you want, we can meet here tomorrow again after classes. you're fun to talk to and quite cute" he chuckled the last part, trying to ease any discomfort you might be feeling.

your mind went blank. you had never, in a million years, expected him to ask to meet you again. slightly overjoyed, you eagerly blurted out a yes. jungwon laughing at your surprised face at your own self. and just like that, you guys had planned your first little date, unknown to both of you that years down the line you'd still be a prominent part of each other's life.

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fafnir19 · 5 months

Text

The Bargain

I noticed Maya's agitation for the past few days. She seemed distant, lost in her own thoughts. Concerned, I finally mustered the courage to ask her what was wrong. "Maya, what's been bothering you lately?" I asked, my voice filled with genuine concern. She sighed deeply, gazing down at her hands.

"Tristan, I made a foolish mistake," she confessed, her voice trembling. "I... I summoned a demon to help me pass my exam." My heart skipped a beat. Summoning a demon? That was risky business. "Did it work?" I asked cautiously. She nodded, tears welling up in her eyes. "Yes, I passed the exam, but now... now it's time to pay the price." My heart sank, a mixture of sadness and fear flooding my emotions. "What... what's the price?" I stammered, fearing the worst. Maya shook her head, avoiding my gaze. "I... I don't want to talk about it."

Determined to help her, I searched through Maya's belongings and found the summoning materials she used. With trembling hands, I summoned the demon she had called upon, Incedis. A swirl of dark energy appeared before me, materializing into the form of a demon. Incredibly muscular, with fiery red skin and horns that curled elegantly above his head, Incedis gazed at me with piercing crimson eyes. "What do you want, mortal?" he bellowed, his voice booming and menacing. "Please," I pleaded, my voice shaky yet resolute. Summoning all my courage, I looked Incedis in the eye and said, "I'm willing to serve you for a week in the underworld if you release Maya from her debt." The demon laughed, his voice filling the room. "A week? Very well, Tristan. Your sacrifice amuses me. We have a deal." Excitement and trepidation coursed through me as I shared the news with Maya. Maya stared at me, her eyes filled with disbelief. "You did what? You're going to serve in the underworld for a week?" I nodded, determined to show Maya that I would do anything for her. "Yes, I made a deal with Incedis. He agreed to release you from your debt." Maya sighed, a mixture of frustration and affection evident in her voice. "Tristan, I appreciate you trying to help, but my debt was merely my favorite handbag. I never wanted you to go through this."

Days passed, and the agreed-upon time arrived. A magical portal opened before me, and without hesitation, I stepped into the unknown. As I emerged in the underworld, I couldn't help but notice a strange sensation. I felt stronger, more agile than ever before. Then I saw them—horns protruding from my forehead.

Incedis appeared beside me, his menacing aura unyielding. "Well, well, Tristan," Incedis purred, his eyes flickering with amusement. "You look even more tempting with those horns." He ran a finger along one of the spiraling horns that had grown atop my head, sending an unexpected jolt of arousal through my body. Startled, I took a step back, my face flushing. "What... what was that?" Incedis chuckled darkly. "Seems like the underworld has bestowed you with a few gifts, Tristan." He winked impishly before leading me off to my first task. As the days passed in the underworld, I found myself assisting lost souls in their journey to their interrogation rooms. It was a somber task, but the work itself was relatively straightforward. However, on the second day, my duty took a seductive turn. I was restrained in a chair and shown films of powerful men while Incedis stood behind me, caressing my horns. The sensation sent waves of pleasure coursing through me, building towards an explosive climax. But just as I was on the brink, Incedis would remove his hand, leaving me panting and unsatisfied. This ritual continued on the third day, leaving me both frustrated and bewildered.

But on the fourth day, everything took an unexpected turn. While standing at the gate, a handsome CEO of a large corporation entered, catching my eye. As my body responded with a familiar stir of arousal, Incedis noticed and smirked. "No need to return to the room from the previous days this afternoon," Incedis hissed, his voice dripping with wicked delight. "Congratulations, Tristan. You're officially gay." My mind spun in a whirlwind of confusion and betrayal. But amidst the storm of emotions, one thing remained clear - my determination to prove Incedis wrong. "G-gay? No, that can't be right," I stammered, my voice quivering with denial. "I have a girlfriend, Maya." Incedis laughed, a wicked sound echoing through the underworld. "Are you sure about having a girlfriend, Tristan? See for yourself!" With a flick of his wrist, Incedis conjured a swirling mist that enveloped me, revealing a startling image. Maya, entangled in passionate embrace with my supposed best friend, their bodies moving in rhythmic synchronicity.

The image cut through me like a thousand knives, pain and anger blending into an explosive mixture. "Maya," I whispered, my voice tinged with hurt and betrayal. "How could you?" Incedis licked his lips, relishing in the chaos he had birthed. "Seems you've been mistaken about having a girlfriend, Tristan. And perhaps you're also mistaken about not being gay. Let go of those mortal attachments. Embrace who you truly are." My fists clenched at my sides, my body trembling with conflicting emotions. The world around me blurred as my sight narrowed to focus on Incedis. "No," I hissed through gritted teeth. "I won't let you define me. I won't let you take away my identity." Incedis smirked, unfazed by my defiance. "Very well then, my stubborn mortal. Come with me." Confusion seized me as Incedis snapped his fingers, I found myself dressed in tight leather and silk riding pants that clung to every curve of my body, a velvet shirt open to the waist.

The very fabric seemed to whisper against my skin, igniting a strange and illicit fire within me. I looked down at myself in disbelief. "What is the meaning of this?" I demanded, my voice laced with frustration. "What have you done to me?" Incedis led me through the twisted corridors of the underworld, until we reached a grand temple.

I stood in the dimly lit temple, surrounded by flickering candles that cast dancing shadows on the walls. The air was heavy with anticipation as I faced the demon standing solemnly before the altar, his eyes glowing with an otherworldly fire. It was at this moment that I hesitated, unsure of what I was about to agree to. "Do you want to be a demon of lust and desire for eternity?" the demon asked, his voice reverberating through the room. "If so, seal your agreement with a moan." I opened my mouth to refuse indignantly, to reject this twisted offer that would condemn me to an eternity of debauchery. But before the words could escape my lips, Incedis sensually caressed my horns, causing a wave of pleasure to course through my body. A gasp escaped my lips, and I felt my resistance crumble. Incedis smiled wickedly, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "That's it, Tristan. Give in to your deepest desires." My mind was clouded by an intoxicating cocktail of pleasure and confusion. In that moment, the realization hit me like a bolt of lightning – perhaps my own desires were more complex than I had ever allowed myself to believe. And perhaps, deep down, I yearned for something different, something wild and untamed. As the demon's touch lingered on my horns, I felt a dark hunger stirring within me, a craving for unimaginable pleasure. I tried to fight it, but with every stroke of Incedis's fingers, my resolve crumbled further. Was I truly giving in to temptation? With a voice filled with both mischief and power, Incedis whispered in my ear, "Seal your agreement, Tristan. Embrace your inner demon." The pull was too great, the allure too strong to resist any longer. In a moment of surrender, I let out a moan, a sound that sealed my destiny. The demon before me nodded, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "Welcome, Tristan," Incedis purred. "Welcome to your new existence."

As the words echoed in the temple, the room seemed to shimmer and warp. Reality twisted around me, and when the haze of change cleared, I found myself standing in a different realm. The colors were vivid, the air crackling with an electrifying energy. I had become a demon of lust and desire. My first task awaited me, beckoning me towards a new purpose. I was to enter the dreams of straight men and engage in gay activities with them, to awaken desires they had never known existed.

This was my new reality, a path filled with temptation and forbidden pleasure. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what lay ahead. There was no turning back now. I had become a creature of the night, a vessel for desire. And as I stepped into the swirling dreamscape, I couldn't help but feel a stirring of excitement, a thrill of anticipation. My journey had taken a dark turn, leading me down a path I had never expected. But in this new existence, I would discover truths about myself that I had long buried. But for now, my focus was on the task at hand. The demons within dreams awaited, their secret desires ready to be uncovered. And as I took my first step into the ethereal realm of untapped longing, I couldn't help but wonder – how deep into the abyss of desire would I allow myself to sink?

#male tf #male transformation #straight to gay #personality change #demon #The Bargain

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sebastianstanisahotmf · 3 months

Text

First 'date'

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N Sorry for not being active I've just been spending time with friends and family but I'm back now! Also, this is going to be a series but idk how often I will update it.

THIS IS NOT AN 18+ FIC BUT I STILL FEEL UNCOMFORTABLE WITH MINORS READING MY FICS SO PLEASE DNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR.

Summary You and Bucky go on a first 'date'

DO NOT REPOST ONTO ANY OTHER APPS/WEBSITES. THE ONLY PLACE THIS FIC IS ON IS TUMBLR.

Warnings Fluff

You couldn't remember the last time you felt so nervous. You were getting ready for a date with James (or Bucky as he tells you to call him.) You met him on a dating app and were texting for two weeks before you decided to go on this date.

As well as feeling nervous, you also felt excited to meet Bucky. He seemed so sweet over text and judging by his profile picture, he was the hottest guy you had ever seen.

You could only hope he was like this in real life.

“Can I come in now?” your friend, Ella, shouted from the other side of your bedroom door.

“Yeah,” you shouted back.

Your so-called ‘date’ was more of a meeting at a coffee shop so you were wearing a slightly oversized shirt, your favourite jeans, and a pair of black sneakers. You had minimal makeup on and your hair was styled in a way that made you feel confident.

You and Bucky are anxious people and agreed that a coffee shop would be a much more calming environment when meeting each other for the first time.

“Do I look ok?” you asked Ella.

“You look amazing y/n!”

“Really?” you questioned.

“You're going to a coffee shop, not a Michelin-star restaurant,” Ella told you.

“Ok,” you took a deep breath, “I’m ready.”

You grabbed your bag off your bed and made sure you had everything you needed.

“I'll see you later,” you told Ella.

“I'll see you later if you don't end up getting laid.”

You rolled your eyes and left the apartment you shared with Ella.

The coffee shop was a five-minute walk away so you weren't in a hurry to get there.

—------------------------------------------------------

Once you got there you scanned the shop and your eyes landed on the man sitting at the table in the corner. You could only see the back of his head but he was dressed in all black and that's what Bucky told you he wore.

You cautiously approached him so as not to scare him.

“A-are you Bucky?” you asked.

The man turned around and smiled at you, “I am.” he replied.

“Thank God, if you said no I was gonna be so embarrassed,” you walked over to the chair across from him and sat down.

“How are you today?” he asked, cringing at the question.

“I was a little nervous earlier but I feel better since you seem to be in a similar state,” you responded with a chuckle.

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, rubbing the back of his head.

“Just a little bit, but you don’t have to feel bad about it,” you assured him.

You looked at the table where his hands were resting. You noticed the black gloves but didn’t say anything, you knew who he was but weren’t sure if he knew that and you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. You didn’t see him as a bad person or a villain. You did your research on him a while back and you could’ve never blamed him for his actions, he didn’t have control of himself at the time.

He seemed so genuine and kind, nothing like the monster the government made him out to be. You started to speak about how your week had been so far and you thought it was funny how Bucky spoke about his friend Sam who he seemed to love and hate at the same time.

“Do you want to order now?” he asked you.

You just nodded in response.

“If you want I can order for us,” Bucky offered.

You told him your order and thanked him for ordering for you. He got up from his seat and walked over to the counter to order. He told the barista the drinks he wanted and paid. As he was waiting for the drinks he looked over to you and smiled.

You returned his smile and butterflies erupted in your stomach. You tried to calm your nerves by looking at your lap.

A few minutes later, Bucky returned with the drinks and sat back down.

“Thanks,” you told him, “you didn’t have to buy my drink for me.”

“It’s the least I could do doll,” he told you with a smile.

You both continued to get to know eachother even more until the barista came over to tell you that closing time was in 5 minutes.

“So I guess that’s the end of our date,” Bucky chuckled, “ I hope I wasn’t too boring.”

“Hey, don’t put your self down, I had a good time,” you gave him a small smile.

You said your goodbyes and went your separate ways.

-----------------------------

As you walked through the door of your apartment, you were bombarded by Ella.

“So how did it go with Bucky?” he wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“It was really good, I hope we can go on another date, maybe to a restaurant next time,” you told her with a smile on your face.

Ella squealed and pulled you further into your apartment.

You were about to go into the livingroom when you heard the notification sound on your phone go off.

“Who is it?” Ella inquired.

“It’s Bucky,” you replied, clicking on the notification, “He wants to go on another date!” you almost shouted with excitement.

“Fuck yeah, my bestie is finally gonna get that D.”

“Calm down, you’re more excited about me having sex with Bucky then I am,” you laughed.

The rest of the night was spen watching movies whilst eating snacks and telling Ella everything about your ‘date’ with Bucky.

If you want to be tagged whenever I post a fic then click on the link

If you want to see what I repost, my other account is @sebastianstanisahotmf-reblogs

Taglist:

@nicoline1998enilocin @buckys-wintersoldier @kenzs-world @booscherripop @hisredheadedgoddess28 @kandis-mom @cutedisneygrl

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rogueddie · 2 years

Text

Steve turns, holding his bat ready, confused and terrified. He'd only turned away from the group for a second, glancing back into a room they were passing, double checking that the shadow he'd seen move was just the dead tree outside the window.

Yet, when he turned back to the others, they were long gone. He's alone in the middle school hallway, the vines of the Upside Down seeming to shift towards him in small increments.

There's a chirping noise.

He flinches, almost tripping with how fast he turns. He raises his bat again. It takes a moment for him to realise that nothing is coming at him. Instead, a familiar face slowly peaks out from the main doors.

"Eddie?" Steve isn't sure his eyes aren't playing tricks on him.

The chirping noise- it's Eddie making that noise. He looks… curious. A little excited. Something about him seeming oddly childlike.

"Eddie, man, what-" Steve cautiously takes a few steps towards him. Eddie seems to brighten up, chirping again, before darting out of sight. "Eddie?!"

He quickly jogs to the doors, cautiously peaking his head out. There's another chirp, Eddie crouched at the corner of the building. When Steve tries to slowly walk over to him, he just as slowly stands up straight. He backs up, carefully. Glances behind him, then looking back to Steve. He's leading Steve somewhere.

A trap? No. Something in Steves gut knows that, whatever Eddie is, he's safe. Something about the way he almost bounces in childlike excitement whilst huddling close to the darker areas, hiding… something… its so genuine.

Eddie leads him into the closes house. Steve isn't sure who's it is but he is sure that whoever lived here didn't leave it like this.

There's pillows and duvets and blankets all piled carefully in the living room, furniture moved to form a nest. Eddie is perched in a corner and, with no shadows left to hide in, Steve can finally see that the dark shadows that followed him aren't shadows. They're wings. Wings that twitch under his attention, curling outwards when Eddie tilts his head.

"This is… safe? You're safe here?" Steve finally asks.

Eddie perks up again, making a different chirping noise. It sounds almost… happier? Pleased? His wings twitch too, taking up more space and fluttering.

Steve carefully puts his bat down, leaning it on the wall just next to the doorway. Eddie only glances at it, focused more on Steve as he steps further into the room. He's careful with what he touches, not wanting to ruin anything unstable.

Eddie makes another chirp, carefully moving out the corner. He stops, hesitating at some points. It takes Steve a moment that he's waiting for a reaction from him, some sort of signal.

"It's ok, man," Steve tries. He slowly steps a little closer. "Eddie?"

He slowly holds a hand out, palm up. He glances from Steve to his hand, giving him a pleading look until, uncertainly, Steve takes his hand.

Eddie gently tugs him over to the big pile of blankets and duvets, pulling Steve so hes stood in a specific spot. He pushes Steve before he can ask, sending him into the pile. There covers are thick and piled high enough that his landing is soft.

Eddie chirps a little anxiously when Steve yelps though. Gently and nervously touches his arm, relaxing when Steve huffs a little laugh.

"Could've asked, man," Steve complains. He frowns when Eddie shuffles away, crouching in the doorway. "Uh... what are you doing? Eddie? Do you even understand me?"

Eddie turns to glance at him, frowning when he sees Steve sat upright. He makes some more chirping noises at him.

"Come on, Eds, give me something to work with."

Eddie bounces up, looking like he's had an idea. He disappears around the corner for a moment, something creaking then banging. Eddie comes back in a second later looking pleased.

He gently pushes Steve onto his back, shuffling around before laying down too. He manhandles Steve onto his side, curling up behind him, arms curling around his waist and shifting so he can cocoon them both in his wings.

Steve stays frozen for a moment. But Eddie nuzzles into his neck, chirping quietly. He gently rubs circles on Steve's arm, clearly trying to be comforting.

It's comfortable though. Warm. It feels safe too, hidden away. And, whilst Eddie doesn't seem able to talk, he seems happy to listen. Does little things, makes little noises, doing his best to encourage Steve to keep talking.

It's almost easy, a couple hours later, to fall asleep.

He's confused when he wakes up slowly, feeling warm and comfortable. None of the usual exhaustion or nightmares. He feels safe.

Arms tighten on his waist, body trying to press closer even though they are already fully pressed up to Steves back. A sleepy snuffle, a yawn.

Steve turns, slowly and carefully. He's still half asleep, which is probably the only reason he doesn't yell or anything. It takes him a moment, still half asleep, to remember the previous night.

"Eddie?" Steve mumbles, rubbing at one of his eyes.

Eddie blinks awake slowly, smiles small and soft when he sees Steve.

Steve laughs a little. "Yeah, it's good to see you too."

Eddie grins, leaning forward to press their foreheads together for a moment. He looks pleased, fingers coming up to brush the pink in Steve's cheek.

He grimaces a moment later, face scrunching up in pain.

"Eddie?! What is it? What do you need? Eddie? Shit, can you... show me or something?"

He chirps quietly, a little sad. He gently grabs Steve's hand, pulls Steve's wrist to his mouth. He's trying to say something, but Steve can't quite figure out what exactly. He's giving Steve a look that tells him that, whatever it is, it's important.

"Uh... yeah? Ok?"

Eddie chirps again, a little apologetic. He shifts so his mouth hovers at the back of his forearm, away from his veins. Then, he bites.

Steve hisses at the pinch, instinctively trying to pull away, but Eddie holds tight. He only takes a few sips of his blood before pulling back, rubbing the spit into the bite almost absentmindedly.

He looks a little dazed, confused, blinking slowly. He looks up after a moment, frowning. "Steve?"

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #vampire eddie #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie fic #ficlet #yet another idea I simply couldnt think of how to finish asdhsgs #vampfic

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veenxys · 1 year

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「BNHA Boys reacting to you falling asleep on them for the first time」

⤷ Bakugou

when he feels the soft thud on his shoulder, he’s all serious, but inside he’s melting completely and he feels his heart speeding up in his chest. but his first thought is that his shoulder is probably not comfortable enough for you; as cautiously as possible, he shifts you so that your head rests in his lap. silently silences anyone trying to make loud noises or talk loudly around you while stroking your hair or resting his arm around your waist; small gestures to show you that he is protecting you, and that you are safe with him.

⤷ Deku he would be a little surprised, but he wouldn’t show it. he’s used to demonstrations of love from you, but this was something that took him by surprise. he nudges you to open your eyes and he tells you to lie on his lap where it’s most comfortable. you do and he brushes your hair out of your face and gives your temple a kiss before putting his jacket over you.

⤷ Kirishima he would be the first to pull you into bed with him, but he wouldn’t expect you to go to sleep so quickly. maybe it was the tiredness after a long day, maybe it was the fact that it was late at night or maybe it’s his body heat that was so appealing and you can’t resist sleeping. he smiles hugely when he sees you sleeping on him; he admires you for a few seconds before pulling you even closer to him and kissing your forehead while whispering “good night my love”

⤷ Todoroki he acts calm, but his heart is melting so hard at the feel of you so close to him. he moves a little to a more comfortable position for you and whispers things like “it’s okay baby, you can rest now”. he holds your hand and he can’t help but smile shyly when you finally fall asleep on him.

⤷ Denki he would be bursting with happiness when you lie on his lap, but all he shows is an excited smile and twinkling eyes. he leans down and leaves a kiss on your forehead and your lips before making sure you’re comfortable, then he starts stroking your hair the way you like to help you sleep well. when you finally fall asleep, he punches the air as silently and quietly as possible because he doesn’t want to wake you up, but he can’t hide his happiness.

⤷ Tamaki he would feel so warm and fuzzy inside, but on the outside he gets very nervous; he doesn’t want to bother you, but he knows that this position is not the best position for you to sleep, so he shifts position a little, trying his best not to wake you up. but he can’t, you step back a little and ask if it’s everything okay and if it’s not, you won’t do it again. he then quickly denies it, cheeks turning red as he tries to tell you to lie down again. you smile and lean into him again, and this time he just tries to relax; putting an arm around you and kissing the top of your head while making light caresses on your arm and waist.

⤷ Shinsou when he feels your head on his shoulder, he smiles softly and closes his eyes for a few seconds because the feeling of having you so close to him is so charming and pure for him. he puts the jacket over your shoulders and moves a little so you’re comfortable; he then intertwines his arm with yours and holds your hand, stroking lightly with his thumb as he rests his head on yours.

⤷ Hawks silently gushes as he tries his best to stay still. puts a blanket or a jacket over you so that you’re warm. if there are his friends or family around, he tries to get their attention then points at you while looking at them, partly to let them know you’re sleeping so keep the noises down, but mostly because he wants to brag how adorable you look. takes pictures and short videos to show you later.

⤷ Dabi he’ll never admit it, but he’d spend a lot of time just admiring you. there’s something so pure and genuine about feeling comfortable enough to sleep on a person and he feels something so warm and loving growing in his chest when he thinks you trust him that way. he also makes sure you’re covered and comfortable and he snuggles closer to you so the two of you can nap together.

⤷ Shigaraki

when you lie on his chest, he freezes for a while, not knowing what to do. you put your arm around his waist and snuggle into his body heat; he doesn’t admit it, but allows himself to melt when he sees you sleeping. your slow, soft breath against his skin makes him relax. he gently wraps an arm around you and caresses your arm with his fingers.

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violetrainbow412-blog · 7 months

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Day 2: love confession

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

When Spencer watched you enter the office he felt that strange thing again. It was as if his stomach was turning completely, his heart was racing uncontrollably and his brain was turning off completely. And that had been going on for the past few months which, honestly, had become a pain.

“I knew we would be the first to arrive” you laughed, extending one of the two cups you had in your hands towards him “I bought you one.”

“Bless you, I needed my morning caffeine” he laughed, and when he heard you laugh that empty feeling returned. It was as if your presence triggered symptoms of a strange illness that he didn't know how to cure and that morning he woke up knowing that he was going to clear things up. “Hey, can I ask you a personal question?”

“About me or your person?”

“About me,” he clarified and you smiled, leaning against his desk so you could hear him better. You nodded your head, so he could start telling you whatever he had to say. “I've been feeling strange… but I guess I don't know why that is.”

"What are you talking about?"

“It's been happening to me for a few weeks now. I have had heart abnormalities, my hands sweat, my face feels hot, and out of nowhere I become a nervous wreck and I feel a knot in my stomach. All at the same time and that is horrible”

“Jesus Christ, Reid…” you began, genuinely concerned. “And have you been to the doctor?”

“No, because my symptoms only appear when I see… a specific person. But I don't understand why it is, do you think there is an allergy to a human person?

You watched him for a few seconds, digesting what he had just said and wondering if he meant it; his expectant look suggested to you that it was so, and you kept thinking until you could find the right words for an answer.

“Are you telling me that all this happens to you only when you see that person?”

“Yes,” he admitted, oblivious to anything you were implying.

“And it happens at another time? You know, like when you think about that person” you murmured cautiously, watching him reflect afterwards and finally nod his head frantically.

“It's strange, right?”

“And haven't you thought that you might not be sick, but in love?”

"In love?" he muttered confusedly, as if it were an impossibility “That's absurd.”

“Why would it be? All of that sounds to me like your body gets excited when you see that person and it can only be if you are in love with them” you smiled, truly amused by the matter “It's something completely normal.”

"But that can’t be. It would mean that I am in love with you.”

Spencer didn't mean to say that. Spencer pretended to think that. But once the words left his mouth and he realized the mistake he had just made, he felt all the blood rushing to his cheeks. He only meant to ask you what all that was about, you weren't supposed to know that you were responsible for it.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing"

“Do you feel all that when you're with me?” you asked stunned, verifying your theory with the simple blush on his cheeks. Your friend's silence was prolonged, until he felt he owed you an apology for such an indiscreet outburst.

"I'm sorry I made you uncomfortable”

“You didn't,” you admitted, reaching out to pat his knee “I'm just surprised. And you flatter me, in a way."

“Can we just pretend this didn't happen?” he asked, his eyes squeezed shut in shame and his hands fiddling with each other.

You leaned in his direction and planted a kiss on his nose that forced him to open his eyes and look at you.

“I also feel that whole chemical mess when I'm around you. There is nothing to be ashamed of” you laughed, feeling his soft gaze on you and almost hearing his heart beating rapidly “Now get to work. They don't pay you to be pretty”

And the memory of that exchange was enough to keep Reid working with a sweet smile on his face all day.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x you #flufftober 2023 #prompt list #writing challenge #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid drabble

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lev1hei1chou · 25 days

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Zoo Day

Nanami x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 402 Synopsis: Nanami visits a zoo in Australia Masterlist

It was a sunny day in Australia, and you and Nanami decided to spend the day at the zoo. The air was filled with excitement as you strolled through the entrance hand in hand. Nanami, although usually composed, couldn't hide his curiosity about the unique Australian wildlife.

As you approached the capybara enclosure, Nanami's eyes widened with fascination. "What curious creatures," he remarked, watching the large rodents lazing around in the sun.

You grinned, "They're capybaras, baby. Cute, right? They're known for being chill and social animals. Wanna give it a shot?" You led him towards the enclosure, and Nanami cautiously extended his hand. To everyone's surprise, a capybara waddled over and nuzzled against his fingers. Nanami couldn't help but crack a small smile.

"They seem to have a liking for you, love," you teased, earning a chuckle from the the taller man.

The next stop was the kangaroo area. As you approached, a kangaroo hopped over, seemingly eager to greet you. Nanami observed the marsupial with a mix of awe and curiosity.

"They have such powerful hind legs," Nanami commented, watching the kangaroo effortlessly hop around. Suddenly, one kangaroo hopped over and started sniffing at Nanami's shoes. He raised an eyebrow as the kangaroo seemed genuinely interested in his footwear.

You couldn't help but laugh, "Looks like you've made a new friend, Kento. Maybe it's a fan of your sense of style!"

Nanami deadpanned, "I didn't realize kangaroos had a thing for fashion."

As you continued exploring, you stumbled upon a group of lorikeets, colorful parrots known for their playful antics. Nanami held out his hand, and one bold lorikeet decided to land on his shoulder, causing him to freeze.

"Another friend huh? Looks like you've acquired a feathery companion," you chuckled, clearly amused.

Nanami sighed, "I suppose this is the price of being inquisitive." The lorikeet, however, seemed content and continued to preen its feathers on his shoulder, much to the amusement of onlookers.

The day at the Australian zoo was filled with comical moments and newfound discoveries for Nanami. As the two of you left the zoo hand in hand, Nanami couldn't help but admit, "I never thought a day at the zoo would be so entertaining. Perhaps we should consider coming to such places more often."

You smiled, "I'm glad you enjoyed it, Nanami. Who knew capybaras, kangaroos, and lorikeets could bring out the lighter side of you?"

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painted-bees · 9 months

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Haha! Okay..! [[deep inhale]]

So, back before Magritte moved in with Raf, when they were first just meeting up for weekly jam sessions at the recording studio, Raf had kinda…only agreed to jam with her on the conditions that nothing would be recorded, no photos or social media posts about it, none of that. Magritte didn't care, she just wanted to play music with someone who was fun to play music with and wouldn't get bored of her after only an hour of it. She never pushed it. It never even came up in conversation. Total non-issue.

Eventually, once Magritte moved in and Raf started getting more confident/comfortable about her, he found that he very enjoyed collaborating with her on compositions, and had found himself wishing he could hear recordings of it. And so, it was him who suggested that they record some of the stuff they played, and–allowed her to post it to YouTube and such, so long as he was left uncredited or given a pseudonym.

Magritte wasn't comfortable leaving him uncredited, and so consistently credited him as "Albatross" whenever his contributions were present in the work and recordings she posted. Raf knew about this, she never uploaded anything without permission. Her online presence/audience was very small and humble, it was fine.

They began playing at very small venues together, their "band" being named something totally different, and increasingly silly with each new gig. For Raf, this was his deliberate, careful, slow crawl out of a decade of extreme burnout. He promised himself that if it became at all stressful or stopped being fun, then he'd stop--plain and simple.

His hard, fast rule with Magritte was "no contracts". If something required his signature, it wasn't gonna happen. He wasn't interested in getting dragged back into the "business" of music and showmanship, but he was very cautiously keen on rediscovering his joy for playing violin, and of playing to an audience. Magritte was, genuinely, the perfect accompaniment to help him ease back into it on his own terms. Though she wanted to make a living with her music, the money wasn't her goal--it was simply a thing that would allow her to keep playing music. If she didn't need the money to live, she'd have been content just playing music for fun every day for whoever would wanna listen to it. There were no dreams of "making it big" just dreams of "doing this forever, without anything else getting in the way of it".

It's hard to say if it was due to one of Magritte's "Albatross" uploads, or if it was an audience recording from one of their small venue shows, or something else that put them on the radar, but one afternoon, Magritte received a very exciting email from the A&R division of a major record label--and experienced that ADHD bone-rattling excitement that only an impossible dream-come-true email inquiry could provide lmao.

She and Raf stop by a local coffee shop after work most days, and this was when Magritte decided to hand Raf her phone, asking if the email looked legit. He seemed to be in a pretty good mood, and she intended for the question to serve as a barometer as to whether she should suggest giving the label a chance or not. She figured, if he seemed uncomfy just assessing whether the inquiry was real and not a scam, then she wouldn't push it further than that.

But honestly, with a label this big, if it was legit, he'd at least be a little curious to know more about the offer, right?

No.

It's doubtful that Raf had even read past the first line of the email before his "pretty good mood" became stiff and cold as stone. Magritte felt the chances of a receptive outcome drop below zero as she watched the muscles of his jaw tense up.

His response was to ask, "Why are you bringing this to me? It doesn't matter if it's a scam or not, we had an agreement."

Taken aback by his hard, almost hostile tone, Magritte stammered that she thought he'd at least find the inquiry somewhat amusing, but "you're not even going to consider it, just for a second?" Raf repeated to her again that he had already told her contract and such were out of the question. She had been fine with it, she had assured him, even, that it was a non-issue. “Yeah, but–this one’s kind of a big deal.” To which Raf balked, “You thought I’d just change my mind if a ‘big enough’ company reached out to us?” And Magritte, defensively, blurted, “No, because it didn’t even cross my mind as a possibility!”

Raf pushed the phone over the table to her, and leaned back in his seat, stunned for a moment by the onslaught of his own racing thoughts and really, all he was able to say was "Why are you doing this to me? Why you?"

Recognizing that 1) she really stepped in it, and 2) she was too excited about this stupid email to abandon the pursuit of its possible offer as suddenly as the situation was demanding her to, Magritte stood to her feet suddenly, muttering apologies, saying something in frazzled tones about needing to get her thoughts straight before she said something stupid. She took her abrupt leave, but not before telling Raf that she'll meet him at home because she needs to settle her brain over a walk before she can talk reasonably with him about it. A quick “I love you” and she was out.

Genuinely, it was the best thing she could think to do in order to avoid stubbornly, injuriously digging into the subject deeper while her ears and face flushed hot with both shame and disappointment. It wasn't going to be a productive conversation while her vision danced with black splotches under the intensity of her emotions.

Unfortunately, removing herself from the situation as suddenly as she had created it meant that she had left Raf to sit and plummet into dread, with no voice to counter the incomprehensibly catastrophic flurry of his thoughts.

As he had grown more and more comfortable with her, there had been a louder and louder alarm in his consciousness that told him the other shoe was gonna drop, that he had to back off if he wanted to avoid the devastating affirmation that Magritte, too, had only ever intended to use him. God, she played him so brilliantly, too. How had she managed to convince him to let her record? To post their sessions? To play in venues. How had she managed to get him to suggest it, like it had been his idea. It felt crazy to him that he somehow didn't realise it was all leading to exactly this situation. He had considered it, the notion was always there tickling the back of his mind like a persistent rash…but he really, really thought he was just being paranoid. He wanted so badly to believe he was…just being paranoid. Like a fucking idiot.

He got himself home, it was past dinner time, he didn't wait for Magritte to get back. Slammed back some sleeping meds and slam dunked himself into bed in order to avoid losing his goddamned mind.

Magritte's evening was…considerably more productive. The walk back home began with her mulling over all the ways Raf was being unreasonable and unfair for not at least entertaining the email. If the offer turned out to be no good, then it was no good! They should at least be able to discuss and consider it in a calm and mature manner, right? While it was true that he already had (and ended) an extremely successful musical career, she herself had yet to even get her foot in the door. She wasn’t anywhere near close to being able to make ends meet with her music, and her parents would never take her hard work and passion for it seriously until she was able to prove to them that it was actually worth something; that it was a sustainable, reliable path to pursue. It shouldn’t have mattered to her what they thought, but for some reason, she couldn’t help but make their approval/recognition/validation a core motivating factor in proving herself as a ‘competent’ musician. That competency, unfortunately, was measured by income and the willingness of a well known company to invest in her work. Being able to tell her parents that she was signed under something like Universal or such would have definitely turned their opinion around, and maybe…MAYBE they’d even see the value in helping her afford to study music at a university..! And shit, she’d finally be able to contribute to paying rent and utilities without breaking a sweat about it…she might even have gained an expendable income, she could finally start repaying Raf for all those little gifts and surprises he’d treat her with. Imagine.

Even before she had attempted to approach Raf about the email, she already had the picture of their life making music together as they have been–but with a more tangible goal/purpose, and without any outside obligations taking them away from just waking up and jamming every day. Playing music that just…paid for itself. Stress free!

But Raf couldn’t even entertain it. He was so upset that she’d even bring it up at all. Did he even read the email? Or did he see just the subject line and shut down?

She elected to read the email again, an effort to soothe herself by finding any reason to believe it was just a scam; that all her excitement and fanciful thoughts of the future were just her getting childishly ahead of herself. She didn't find what she was looking for. The name of the scouting agent was legit, there was no mention of money nor a fee, the email was clear, straightforward, and without any hype-y language. But what Magritte did notice–that she had somehow missed the previous fifty times she had read the email–was that the email didn’t refer Raf by his ‘Albatross’ pseudonym. It had named him in full; Rafael Ephrem. Somehow, -somehow-, the person who sent the email had been able to identify him. And–if they knew who he was… Magritte considered…The inquiry was sent to her email but the offer, specifically, was likely much more interested in him. It made sense. Magritte herself was untrained and unproven; a literal nobody. But, she was the only person Raf was making music with, and his name was very provenly bankable; a safe bet. Magritte had been so flattered and excited by the notion that she was being noticed and contacted by a label, it had been such an uplifting validation–but… The simple fact was that they likely would not have given Magritte the time of day had they not, somehow, recognized Rafael’s involvement in her work.

The offer was about him, not her. She was simply easier to get in touch with.

When she considered the situation from that angle, other aspects became apparent. Raf had, in no uncertain terms, been very clear from the beginning that he would not be signing anything with her. She knew that he was recovering from burnout, that he was wholly disinterested in pursuing music in any kind of professional capacity. Even if he had gone along with indulging Magritte’s excitement for her sake, would he have been sacrificing the joy of making music with her, and surrendering himself to the labor of it, instead? Would it have slowly soured their relationship? If he felt obliged and pressured to create and play, would that have leached the joy out of it?

By ignoring the inquiry, Magritte wasn’t actually losing anything, herself. There was much to gain, potentially, by pursuing it–but she lost nothing in ignoring it. Things were already really good. She liked the relationship she had with Raf, as it was. He had given her a place to stay, and encouraged her near single-minded focus on music, allowed her to compose and play music as much as she wanted without pressuring her to divide her focus on other, more ‘important’ things. He didn’t take offence or feel ignored when she’d spend an entire weekend in her room just doin’ music stuff. He’d never even startle her out of the productive flow by shouting her name from the kitchen, in annoyance, to tell her for the upteenth time that she needed to clean the dishes right now. He let her pursue her joy and, often, he’d delight in joining in on it as well. This was the happiest, most comfortable she had ever felt in her life. In her mind, signing onto a label would have just let her continue doing that, but more securely.

For Raf, though…signing onto a label, being forced to take the work ‘seriously’, it likely felt like a tremendous loss to him. And–she had put him in an unfair position. If he signed on, he’d be surrendering himself to the work he did not wish to do, and would be inching ever closer to the life he had worked so hard to escape and recover from. But–by defending his own desires, comforts, and boundaries, and shutting down this whole label thing without giving it any space to sink roots as a tree of possibility, he risked planting the seeds of resentment into their relationship by denying her a potentially life-changing opportunity that he, no doubt, knew was of tremendous significance to her. From his perspective, it must have looked like a lose-lose situation. A situation that he had foreseen and took fair measures to avoid long, long in advance. He had already told her from the very beginning that this was something he would not do. But she had to test it anyway. Because she got too excited. Because of course she did.

Nah, she decided. She’d just get back home, tell Raf she was suffering excite-brained tunnel vision, wasn’t thinking realistically, and that she had therefore agreed with him that they’re much better off to just keep doing what they’ve already been doing–because that’s been working out just fine and she’d rather not introduce anything that could ruin it for them. She shouldn’t have brought it up. Even just the fact that she felt she needed to ease him into the conversation as softly as possible–by asking about the legitimacy of the email instead of diving into the meat of the matter–should have been enough to tell her that she was pushing it. She had known she was–but she bulldozed ahead with her excitement, anyways. And it had upset him. Hopefully not too much, since she felt she had taken some care with her approach, but yanno. He was clearly upset–and after going through such clear, careful measures to avoid this kinda thing, he kinda had a right to be. She needed to apologise.

By the time she got home, Raf had already put himself to bed–which worried Magritte somewhat. She never liked going to sleep without closure. But, she resolved to tell him her conclusions in the morning and hoped for an otherwise normal day.

And so, when the morning rolled around and she found Raf making coffee in the kitchen, she began with a “good morning”, an apology for not getting back home before he fell asleep, and then she simply unloaded the entire content of her thoughts and conclusions from the previous evening. She felt proud of herself for being able to reassess things with as much fairness and objectivity as she could manage, and she was confident in her choice to completely ignore the whole ‘email inquiry’ thing. More than that, she was beyond apologetic for even asking him to consider it, admitting to him that she realised it kinda put him between a rock and a hard place. She then suggested it’d be best just to assume the email was a scam anyways, “is that ok?”

Raf, who listened to her whole spiel without a single interruption, watched her for a silent moment with half-lidded disinterest (or was he just tired?) before replying with a flat, “mmhm.”

“Okay.” Magritte had been hoping for some assurance that her reasoning, her apology, and her resolution were…yanno…adequate or somthing. But, as Raf sipped his coffee with an unconversational, chilly demeanour, Magritte wasn’t feeling assured by any measure. And so, to find an emotional baseline, Magritte offered a mousey, but genuine little “I love you.” To which Raf replied with a slight twitch of a smirk and an avoiding gaze, “Yeah, I’ll bet you do.”

Immediately, Magritte felt as though she had been tossed whole-bodily off a cliff, and didn’t pursue the conversation further. Shut right up, and spent the rest of the morning very quiet and withdrawn. Too uncomfortable and ashamed to take up space in Raf’s apartment for very long, she headed out to find a quiet, isolated park bench or something to cry on lmao, ‘cuz whuff.

Raf, who had fully expected that his snipey reply would coerce Magritte to trade out the ‘timid sad mouse’ act for something a lot more angry and defensive, was largely unsure of what to do with a Magritte–that instead–seemed to have completely shut down. Before she left, while maintaining his defensive coldness, Raf bothered to measure her vitriol by way of asking Magritte if she needed a ride anywhere. As delicately and sweetly as she could–Magritte declined, telling him it was ok, not to worry about it. And that was really the only additional dialogue they had together that morning. She should have been mad at him. She went through all the trouble of explaining things, apologising, and capitulating to him–and he deliberately stonewalled her in an attempt to get her to unmask. He had called out her bluff; she wanted something from him, he refused to give it to her, she attempted to take the higher ground, putting him in the position where the kindly, good response would have been to capitulate in kind–at least by confirming that the email wasn’t a scam after all, and reopening that dialogue for a more ‘level-headed’ conversation. But he identified the manoeuvre and deliberately shut it down. And then–out of pure spite–he refused to provide her the simple reassurance that a half hearted ‘I love you, too’ might have provided. Because he had spent the entire night and the whole morning fretting, and questioning, and dreading everything–and being the source of it, she deserved to feel it, too. But then her response had been to … ???? ????????? She left, but she didn’t take anything with her, she didn’t pack her belongings or make a show of wanting to move out, none of that kind of thing. She didn’t tell him he was being unreasonable or unfair, or that he needed to think things over. She just sorta–disintegrated in front of him. Just completely wilted. Wtf did that even mean??? Was she trying to guilt him? What else was she going to do? Likely, she intended on just avoiding him until he was ready to apologise or something. Like–if he phoned her right now, she wouldn’t answer. Right? To test his “punishment by avoidance” theory, he called her number–only to hear her answer on the second ring. And–after he hesitated for a moment too long, she asked if he was okay–if there was anything she could get him while she was out. Not having planned to actually say anything, Raf grasped for something believable to ask, landing on “Do you have your keys with you? I’m going to be at my uncle’s so the door will be locked.” To which Magritte assured him that yes she’s got keys, no worries. Say hi to uncle Bill for her.

This kinda sent Raf’s thoughts scattering. She was upset, she was -clearly- upset, he gave her reason to be upset and then he gave her more reasons to be upset. She had spent the whole morning looking downright miserable. She WAS upset, but she wasn’t…putting him through it. She wasn’t punishing him or reasoning with him or trying to position him. She wasn’t worried about him talking to his uncle, which means she hadn’t gone to him herself to get him on her side of this whole thing. What the fuck did she have on him? If she–worse case scenario–decided to get back at him by getting in contact with his mother, then she’d have to–

“Oh. I’m being crazy.” It was almost like a record skip. Any time ‘his mother’ popped up as part of a ‘logical course of action’ in what ever the fuck he was freaking out about, it served as a blaring alarm signaling that he had left grounded reality behind. No matter how much fucking sense it made to him, or no matter how careful his thoughts were in framing it as ‘unlikely’ or ‘worst case scenario’, any, ANY consideration of ‘his mother’ as a thing that could happen to him was a signpost that he had left the realm of reasonability. He made it a deliberate rule that the moment she popped up in his brain, he needed to assume he was thinking irrationally–until he could get a second opinion (and maybe a third, if he didn’t like the second). At least in this way, ‘his mother’ served as a helpful guiding figure in his life. Christ. Alright, alright. At what point did he fall off the rails, though? Magritte DID come to him about a…fucking A&R inquiry of all things. That was real, that happened. She got upset that he wouldn’t entertain it. That was also real, that also happened. How was he supposed to take that? She knew, she knew–it was something he would not do. He had told her, he had told her more than once–he was so clear about it. The rest made no sense to him, if his assumptions from that point forward were in fact…ungrounded.

And so, while he hadn’t actually planned to visit his uncle that day, Raf showed up at his door anyway. Sat down with him, and walked him through the events; the actual, physically observable things that happened, and the things that were said out loud. And Uncle Bill kinda made the “yikes” face, because…yikes.

So, uncle Bill attempted to recount from his perspective; Magritte pushed a boundary, no question. But–the assumption regarding why she did that needed to be challenged. Was it something she had been actively planning for and waiting on? Did she manipulate Raf into feeling safe enough to shed his boundaries? Did she use Raf as bait to reel in offers and interests she wouldn’t have been able to get otherwise? Well…What do we know about Magritte? We know that she’s excitable, impulsive, she projects and assumes the best case scenarios and constantly counts her chickens before they hatch. She can’t keep a secret to save her life. She wears her emotions on her sleeve, which makes her a terrible liar... Bill recites that, according to Raf, Magritte cited excitement, impulsiveness, and the thought of being able to make more music with the added benefit of financial security as her reason for bringing the email to him in the first place. She liked the idea of being able to help pay his rent, she wanted money to buy him gifts the same way he had bought gifts for her. Bill suggested that, if they were to read her motivations in a manner consistent with what they know and have seen about Magritte as a person, the future she was projecting on this inquiry email didn’t exclude him as a beneficiary, he was very much included in her happy little fantasy as someone she wanted to share the experience with. Magritte’s excitement had given her this same kind of tunnel vision before, preventing her from seeing other perspectives or outcomes of a captivating situation. And–they’ve seen that go both ways for her. It’s worked out before, but more often, it really doesn’t, and the fallout usually hurts her more than it hurts anyone else.

So–what’s more possible? That Raf has now found himself in the splash zone of this kind of…hypomanic/giddy impulsive behaviour they’ve seen from Magritte a few times already? Or is Magritte finally showing a more selfishly machiavellian side of herself that she was so good at hiding, it was barely comprehensible? “Okay, but…” Raf asks if his uncle had any explanation for why Magritte, despite being obviously upset, was putting an effort to act as though he wasn’t the reason for it? To which Bill was like, “well, have you asked her?” before, maybe a bit foolishly, offering up his best guess of “She already told you she knew she was in the wrong. She apologised. You didn’t accept her apology. My guess? She’s just gonna do what you want her to do. Stop making music with you? End the relationship? Get her to move out? I don’t recommend testing it unless it’s what you actually want.” Bill offered his honest opinion to Raf, that Magritte’s a good one. A very good one. And Raf needs to talk to her–about all of this. They’re both good kids, they’ll figure it out.

When Raf returned home, the door was unlocked and Magritte’s shoes were on the boot rack. He didn’t see her in the kitchen nor the living room, and so knocked on her bedroom door, asking her to sit with him on the couch when she had a moment to do so.

He had barely sat down before he heard the door to Magritte’s room creak open. Soon after, she sat curled into herself on the opposite end of the couch from him, eyes and nose peeking out from behind her knees. Small.

There was a moment of silence between them before Raf asked, “Honestly, now; are you pissed off at me?”

Magritte answered, “No, but you are, at me.”

He elected to make no platitudes about it, “I was. I’m trying not to be. What are you expecting me to say?” To which Magritte replied, muffled into her knees, “I don’t know…don’t make me answer that. I don’t know.”

And so Raf asks instead, “What are you hoping for?”

“I don’t know, I love you. You don’t even gotta love me back but I wanna play music with you and I want us to keep having fun together and I want to delete the whole past twenty-four hours from my brain. That’s all.” And, while Raf paused to weigh that in his mind, Magritte hesitantly added, “I think there’s something wrong with me.” “With you?” Raf was taken a bit aback by this.

Magritte continued, “How does anyone get so excited and eager about something that it ruins everything? It didn’t even exist, it wasn’t real, there was no deal. They could have come back with an offer that was like ‘we want all ur music for zero monies’, ‘we want full, exclusive rights to your name, likeness, and social security number’, ‘we will provide you a $2 advance in exchange for your first born child’. Like–it could have been total garbage–I don’t know, it didn’t exist. But in my mind, it did exist, it was gonna be great, and–we were gonna be able to make so much music together, just like we are already, but without any of the stress. That wasn’t real, either. There’d have been so much more stress.” As she sunk further into herself, she concluded, “This is real. This sucks. I put us here.”

At this, Raf couldn’t help but let a genuine laugh escape through his nose as a little snort. “Actually…This isn’t so bad.” It wasn’t meant to be an insensitive snort, the irony had simply struck him. While Magritte had been carried away by dream situations, Raf had been consumed by nightmare scenarios. For him, the reality of sitting on the couch with Magritte, trying to come to grips with the fact that she hadn’t been trying to manipulate him like a tool, that she had been operating on the pure puppy-like head-empty jovial excitement that he was usually so fond and protective of–was a huge upgrade from the situation he had been imagining in his head. For Magritte, sitting on the couch with him, trying to come to grips with the fact that she may have negatively impacted a relationship and living situation that she had enjoyed dearly–was most certainly a gut-wrenching downgrade from the rosy “make music, get money, laugh and play” dream she had been imagining in her head. Raf had to be honest with her; he was still entirely firm on his stance of no contracts, no labels…and now–probably no live shows nor online media posts featuring him in any capacity. At least, not for a while. It would be too much of a raw nerve for him, and not something he wanted to stress over. They could still jam, and record–for themselves, privately. And sincerely, this was all it took for Magritte to uncurl her knees from under her chin, and perk up with hopeful gratitude. That she didn’t look as though she were being punished by Raf’s backsliding into old restrictions, and instead appeared genuinely surprised and happy that they could still just make music together–convinced Raf that Uncle Bill’s assessment had been, as usual, spot on. Magritte was a good one. A very good one.

He couldn’t stop himself from asking though, “If I said no more music, full stop–?” “Could I still play music?” “Well–yeah.”

“Would you let me make you listen to it??”

“I like your music, Magritte–”

Her big, happy grin said plenty, before it dissolved into big, blobby tears and wet sniffles.

She admitted that she was so scared he was gonna tell her the whole thing was over, but he didn’t and she’s so relieved, and she loves him so much and she’s so sorry.

Struck a bit numb by the notion that ‘ah, I’ve been a complete asshole’, Raf pulled her into a big ol’ hug, buried his face into her hair, and apologised in kind for his deliberate callousness in the morning–and more than that, for allowing his fear and suspicion convince him in the first place that she was something she wasn’t. It wasn’t right of him, it wasn’t fair to her, and this whole situation could have been resolved over breakfast if he had just…believed what she was saying at face value. Or at least he could have tried not to be a dick about it until he talked it over with his uncle. He couldn’t promise that he’d never fuck up like this again, just like she couldn’t promise that she wouldn’t get carried away either–but he promised to always return her statements of affection, especially in moments when he��s mired in panic and suspicion… to serve as a reminder to himself as much as to reassure her.

Because, in truth–though he’d never saddle her with the knowledge of this–she’s the closest he’s ever felt (outside of guilt-motivated blood relatives) to believing that someone could afford him genuinely unconditional love. A great deal of his fear is rooted in the understanding that–if she was proven to be playing him, there was absolutely no hope–zero chance that he’d ever be able to convince himself that he could just be–loved like a normal human being.And that’s not a state of mind he thinks he could confidently survive. For Magritte’s part, any music or career-related thing that requires his involvement–she just doesn’t entertain unless he’s the one bringing it to her. Raf has never stopped her from pursuing music in a professional capacity where it didn’t involve him–in fact, he has always been extremely eager and supportive from the side-lines. She is literally, without any question, his favourite musical artist. Most of her equipment these days is bought and paid for by him, any opportunity he can find for her, he brings to her–and he is only able to comfortably, confidently do so because she never asks or expects it of him.

Her favorite music is the music she makes with him, and eventually…eventually…they do end up performing shows together again (along with Cortes). But their music is theirs first and foremost. For themselves, before anything else. And it is a gift more precious to her than anything.

#Cortes #long post #LOONG post lmao sry #Hi-Note #rafael #magritte

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