#this is burning slower than i expected
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SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)
CHAPTER SIX: IS IT OVER NOW?
LET'S FAST FORWARD TO THREE HUNDRED TAKEOUT COFFEES LATER, I SEE YOUR PROFILE AND YOUR SMILE ON UNSUSPECTING WAITERS.
☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader
☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, minors dni
☆ WC: 5.8K+
☆ A/N: if i could put the entirety of the lyrics to this song on here, i would. it's! their! song! (side note: these idiots need to start making progress before i tear my hair out i mean it. they make me think about jumping off of very tall somethings)
thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!
masterlist
The coffeeshop that Eddie chooses isn’t one you’re familiar with. It’s smaller, more hidden, tucked away in an unsuspecting corner and disguised from prying eyes.
It wouldn’t have been your first choice, but you’re sure his thought process on choosing public locations differs from yours now. One wrong move, and he’s sure to end up on the cover of another magazine. Actually, one wrong breath, and the public eye probably eats him alive.
He’d sort of brought that upon himself, building up such a polarizing reputation all by his own hands.
“Ever been before?” he asks as the two of you stand in line, the scent of espresso burning your nose and the hiss of steam wands cutting straight through the soft chatter of fellow patrons.
You only shake your head. No words to ease his clear anxiety as you watch him shift his weight between his two feet and his hands dig deep into his pockets.
“It’s pretty good,” he continues to ramble, looking up at the menu rather than you, “They’ve got decent hot coffee, and their lattes aren’t too bad. I like the vanilla one best, which is probably boring but-”
“Eddie,” you interrupt him sternly, “What happened to not talking?”
He scoffs a little, finally turning to look at you. “We aren’t seated yet. Once we get a table, I swear, my lips are sealed.”
You highly doubt that.
It’s torture being this close to him for this long. The accidental bumps of his elbow against your shoulder that send you jumping from the contact. The way you nearly stepped on his foot when you’d shuffled out of the way for someone, and your apology got tangled on your tongue when he’d reached out to steady you. In small moments, when he’s too busy glancing nervously around the cafe, you spare him longer looks. Since he first came tumbling back into your life a mere week ago, you’d been staunch on your stance that he had changed beyond measure. But here, out at a coffee shop with just the two of you present along with all his nervousness, you can see glimpses of something familiar beneath the surface. The way he bites his lip, the way he fiddles with his rings, how he’s occasionally humming tunes beneath his breath as he avoids eye contact with you – you hate it. You hate every aspect of it, and all the painful nostalgia it stirs within you.
It reminds you of your first date with him, back in Hawkins. All the confidence he’d exuded at that Halloween party you’d met him at had disappeared the moment he got you alone sober. As if he had felt the weight of what this would become from day one, as if he knew just how much of both your future’s rested in one stupid date.
You almost get lost in the memories before it’s your turn to order at the counter.
“Just a vanilla latte, please.”
You can see his small smile out of the corner of your eye. A small trace of triumph is clear as day as you order the exact thing he just said was his favorite. It wasn’t intentional, but there’s no use trying to convince him of that.
It’s just a coincidence, you try to convince yourself. It just sounded good after he brought it up.
“I’ll have the same,” he tells the barista behind the counter, moving to pull out his wallet.
On your first date with him, you had bickered endlessly about who would pay. And you nearly do it again – you nearly reach out a hand to stop him and insist you could pay for your own coffee on instinct.
It would be so easy to let history repeat itself, to watch your greatest hits reinvent themselves at this moment. Maybe, this time around, the two of you can get it right.
You don’t move a single muscle as he hands over his card.
He murmurs out a soft thank you when it’s returned to him with a receipt, and you’re already turned to scout out a table to sit at.
There’s plentiful booths, a few high-tops by the front windows. There’s even half booths lining one wall of the cafe. If you were out on your own, all of these choices would be perfect. You’d take a seat at any of the tables and be content, especially the high-tops that offered the perfect opportunity for people watching between work.
You choose a table in one of the back corners. Somewhere darker, and far from everyone else in the building. Somewhere hidden.
“Here?” he questions, hesitating behind you as you drop your bag down beside one of the chairs.
“Something wrong with this table?” you ask over your shoulder, hand gripping on the back of the chair as if it could ground you.
“I mean… not really,” you turn and look at him over your shoulder, “It’s just kind of dark back here, and you used to like sitting by windows-”
Your throat tightens at it – the acknowledgement that he remembers. That he can recall anything from the past, of you, of your time spent together. Part of you had been convinced he’d taken a sledgehammer to the past, shattered it into something unrecognizable and abandoned it altogether.
He hadn’t. It should have been obvious, but he hadn’t.
“Maybe I’ve changed,” you cut in, gaze unwavering as you dare him to challenge you on the fact, “Besides, I don’t want to be distracted while I work.”
You won’t lose this game; whatever he’s currently playing at, you can’t afford to lose. You are not the girl he remembers, and he is not the man you’ve mourned for two years. Both of you, it seems, need that reminder.
He joins you at the shadowy table without another word.
You take to setting up your laptop and notebook, powering up your devices as you flip back open to your pages of contacts and physical notes already taken. Your eyes refuse to find his the entire time as you log in, as you open up to that damn refusal from the latest venue, as you sigh harshly out your nose at that bitter reminder of failure.
When they call your names for the lattes, he’s up and retrieving them without you even asking him to.
In your short time alone at the table, you lean forward to rest your forehead on the palms of your hands. It’s exhausting – being around him, pretending like you wouldn’t have enjoyed the view out the window, facing the reality that his mess had once again become yours. Every inch of your skin prickles with the need to run. And yet you don’t. You could have told him no, easily turned down his offer for coffee. But you didn’t, so now, you’ll live with the consequences.
“One vanilla latte,” Eddie appears, setting down that takeout cup of coffee down in front of you before he takes his seat, “I didn’t know if you’d want any extra sugars, but if you do, I can grab them-”
“Thanks,” you interrupt blandly, lifting your head from your hands as you watch him sit down his own coffee. You really, really didn’t want to hear him ramble anymore.
Didn’t want to ponder how it’s almost as endearing as the first day you met him. Didn’t want to think about how each syllable that falls from his lips strikes something deep in you, something stained and something yearning for erasure of a past both of you can’t change now. Didn’t want to keep caving so damn easily.
You are meant to be furious. You have every right to be; he left first, he stopped loving you first, he broke this first. You’ve had two years to gather up all your grief and all your anger, package it nicely with a bow on top, and that is what you should be handing over to him right now. Not forgiveness, not understanding. Certainly not endearment.
Something in your chest still shudders at the sight of his wince when he tries to sip the hot latte too soon, effectively burning his lip and tongue.
“So, you come here often?”
What the hell happened to not talking?
It’s not him to blame – it’s you. The words tumble out embarrassingly quickly. You had a plan, why weren’t you following the plan? Get a free coffee, get a break from the office, maybe manage to have some sort of breakthrough while away from that stuffy building. You weren’t supposed to be talking to him.
And he knows it. Damn it, does he know it as his lips curl at their corners ever so slightly, “Yeah. It’s convenient, nice and close to the studio.”
Where the fuck had all his rambles disappeared to? What are you supposed to do with such a short, such a normal response?
“Right,” you nod, acting as though the location of his studio would be common knowledge to you, “Right, no, of course. It’s good to have a convenient coffee place.”
He leans back in his chair, nervousness misting away and some sort of confidence creeping in instead. Fuck him.
“Do you have one around here?”
He’s testing the waters, seeing just how much conversation you’ll allow. The threshold should be none. Zilch. A resounding absolutely not.
“I usually stop by the Starbucks closest to my apartment.”
So much for that.
“Starbucks?” he crinkles his nose, and dear Lord, you need to look away. Save yourself the heartbreak, because those wrinkles are almost a replica map of the ones you remember back in Hawkins when he’d make faces at you across the Hideout when someone would approach him with boring conversation he wanted no part in. The same disgust, the same silent conversation between you transpiring, “I thought you were always a coffee snob. Hated that shit.”
You had been. When he had known you, you had hated that subpar commercial coffee.
“Like I said,” you swallow hard, looking down to your keyboard, realizing the conversation needed to end, “People change.”
Did you change, though? You still hated the taste of your morning coffee, cringed at either the burnt bitterness or overwhelming sweetness you could never find peaceful equilibrium between. A thousand different orders, a thousand different experiments, and you still had yet to find anything that satisfied your caffeine cravings.
Kind of like how you window-shopped at the bars. How you’d look over various men that Romina pointed out, and only shake your head before picking out something wrong with them. Something that wasn’t to your usual taste, something that wasn’t him.
You finally take a sip of your latte as Eddie nods, muttering a soft, “Guess so.”
It’s perfect. The latte isn’t too sweet, isn’t too bitter. It’s exactly what you’ve been searching for these last two years.
“They have really good muffins,” Eddie continues on, mimicking you by taking another sip of his drink. This time, he doesn’t burn his mouth, “Cinnamon rolls, too.”
The small talk is nearly killing you. You should go silent on him, begin to work on figuring out the venue situation. But you watch the way he fiddles with the sleeves of his leather jacket and can’t help but remember the old one with safety pins holding together the sleeves. Finally, you cave outwardly.
“What kind of venue do you want?”
It’s not small talk, but it’s not personal talk. It’s just you swallowing your pride, and shocking yourself by reaching out for the help everyone has pestered you with offering the last week.
“What?” Eddie’s eyes widen, no longer rubbing the fabric between his fingertips.
“The venue for the party,” you elaborate, “What are you looking for in it? Small? Big? Private? Rooftop? I’ve tried asking Matt, and he’s given me nothing to work off of.”
Eddie slowly lifts his hands to lay on the tabletop, watching you with such careful eyes that you can see all the lack of trust in them. “Does it… matter?”
You scoff, and before your brain or heart can warn you against it, you’re scooting your chair around the table to be closer to Eddie. You pull your laptop along with you, shifting it so that both of you can see the screen as you bring up your list of options. A colorful spreadsheet: rejections highlighted in a muted red, the ones you haven’t heard back from highlighted in soft orange, the ones you’re unsure of and haven’t even sent out queries regarding highlighted in a nearly transparent yellow.
Only one is highlighted in a pastel green. The one with a rooftop option, as well as several downstairs rooms. The one you thought seemed the most like Eddie.
“Yes, it matters a fuck ton,” you explain, pointing at a random line as his eyes dart about your impressive display, “The ones in red are ones that already rejected me, but most are larger venues you’ve played in the past. By the way, why have you destroyed so many green rooms?”
“I get bored,” he flatly replies, leaning in with squinted eyes, “What does that yellow mean?”
“Those are ones I’m unsure about. Either too big, too small, or too exclusive.”
“And orange?”
“I sent out an email, and haven’t heard back.”
“And…” he pauses as he reaches that venue, “And green? Why’s there only one green?”
It occurs to you he’s the first person to not turn their nose up at your extensive organization. Everyone else had thought it was stupid, wasteful, to spend so much time on the spreadsheet. No one had asked you to explain the color system before, usually hardly glancing at the screen before brushing you off.
No one had even questioned the green line yet.
“Green is the one I think…” you trail off, unsure of why you’re so afraid to admit the meaning. You sort of feel foolish; that terrible imposter syndrome managing to creep up on you as you doubt your judgment, “It’s the one I think might be the best fit. It probably isn’t, I don’t know. Honestly, I can take it off the list-”
“Show me the venue.”
“I really don’t-”
He interrupts you by saying your name sternly, looking away from the screen to glance at you with raised eyebrows, “Just show me. It can’t be any worse than…” he looks back over the list, letting out a snort, “Jesus, Webster Hall? Yeah, they’re not letting us come back any time soon.”
“What did you do to them?” you ask, too curious for your own good. Most of the venues wouldn’t divulge the messy details, only staunchly say no and promise they had their reasons once you mentioned Corroded Coffin.
“I’ll tell you if you show me the green venue.”
He knows he’s won when you finally click onto the still open tabs. You’d opened the hyperlink for every single different room, ranging from the large main one to the petty small one on a rooftop. You start with the largest room, and Eddie eagerly drinks in the details on the page.
He whistles softly, only loud enough for you to hear, “Quite the venue.”
“This is just the first room.”
He looks at you, clearly shocked, subtly nodding for you to click through the rest of the tabs. His reaction is fairly consistent as you show each new room, new capacity, new option. You can see the way his face lights up – you had been right.
Your judgment was correct. You hadn’t been an idiot, shouldn’t have doubted yourself. It almost makes you feel as if there’s still a chance that you still know him. Somewhere deep down, beneath your layers of stained armor and his layers of reckless defenses, you still know him.
“It’s… good,” he says softly after reading over that final tab you had opened, “Like, really good.”
You exhale in relief, “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” he leans back in his chair, “I don’t think we’ve ever played that venue before, either, so… no wrecked green room to hold over my head.”
You should stay on track and focus; you are making progress. After a week of hopelessness, you were finally not feeling like an absolute failure. Better to keep the train moving forward than to halt right now.
And yet, your mind picks up on that green room comment again, and you can’t help it – all your focus flies out the window.
“Why do you fuck up all those green rooms? And don’t just say you were bored,” you ask, curling your hands around your still warm cup of coffee, “I mean, I get it – the rockstar image or whatever – but isn’t it… isn’t it more trouble than it’s worth when it comes to scheduling tours?”
He shakes his head softly, curls tumbling over tense shoulders, “Definitely not for the rockstar image.”
“Then why?” you turn your head, ignore the screen, focus on him. On his scruff and the bags under his eyes, on the cracks in his chapped lips.
On that distinct look overtaking his face that says you overstepped.
“Forget it,” you weakly say, taking back your words to the best of your abilities without being able to pull them back onto your tongue, tuck them back into that box of anger and grief, and curiosity now, apparently. “I guess it doesn’t really matter. Either way, it’s good that these guys have nothing against you, right?”
“They still might,” Eddie shrugs, sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth, “Word travels fast between venues.”
He says it so sadly, it’s hard to think of a proper response. You know he brought it upon himself. There’s no room for sympathy at this table, in this cafe.
But it still only adds to your motivation to do this job, and do it well. A parting gift to Eddie; a way to silently swallow the pride leftover from a messy breakup, and apologize for the way you’d left without a trace. Right then and right there, you decide that’s what this has to become. For your peace of mind, and possibly for his.
“You want a rooftop,” you don’t phrase it as a question, but as a statement as you yank your laptop closer to you, fingers flying over the keyboard, “A rooftop with a nice view, that’s what your email said.”
“I mean, that’d be nice-”
“You all want an open bar,” you add, continuing to type loudly enough a few people glance back towards the dark corner. You pay them no mind, your determination taking over, “And it needs to be smaller than your normal shows according to Matt. That doesn’t mean we have to limit venues by capacity – we could just limit ticket sales.”
Eddie’s mouth falls open ever so slightly, watching you in awe as you start a new document. Making a checklist of just what was possible. No more spreadsheets littered with reminders of rejections, of what you weren’t sure you could get for the band. It would be nice to have a list of the venues you couldn’t contact now, but there was no need to let their names glare at you every time you reviewed your plans.
“We need a top three for venues. What are your top three?”
You finally pause your clacking to look at him. Still stunned, still under the spell of watching you come to life.
It used to be this way back in Hawkins, too. Whenever you took over on a school project, or a new gig for Corroded Coffin. You could do this. You would do this.
“I don’t-” Eddie starts, before taking a deep breath, “The only venues I really know by name are the ones I can’t perform at. The ones that banned me.”
“Awesome,” he shrinks back a little at that, almost in disbelief, but it was awesome. Not that he’d gotten banned, but that you had somewhere to start, “Send me that list. Type it up on your phone right now, and send it.”
“To your email?” he questions, already doing as you’d commanded of him.
You consider it. Your email was already overflowing with work related notions, and brimming with those goddamn rejections you had yet to delete and move past.
Personal email was out of the question. You only checked it for coupons from your favorite online shops and notifications from your mother’s Facebook.
You snatch his phone out of his palm, and don’t look up at him until you navigate to the contacts app, hit the small plus sign, type in the magic number that you don’t check to see if he actually deleted two years ago. You just assume he did.
Your number.
“Text it to me,” you instruct him as you pass the phone back. His hand still hovers where it’d been when you’d taken the cell phone, as if he’s frozen. “Now, please.”
You don’t care if it’s stupid to do, it’s necessary. He’ll probably just delete it once you finish this final favor, this final gift to him to send him off and out of your life for good.
“O-Okay,” he stutters, and not even a minute later, your phone buzzes with a text.
You flip it over, keep it angled so Eddie can’t see the screen.
New text from ROCKSTAR ♡ !
He may have deleted your contact, but you’d never deleted his.
You’d tried to, make no mistake. Spent plenty of late hours staring at that haunted number, even tried to backspace it away a few times. But every time your thumb would hover over the delete button, your hands would shake and knuckles would ache. Every time you’d manage to fully backspace the number away, it was no use; you still knew it by heart, still retyped it and saved it as if nothing had ever changed. There had been a short week of having his number blocked, but you’d given up, unblocked it then sometimes still sat and waited for another round of calls from him begging for a chance to just talk.
You always seemed to have one foot in the door, one foot out with Eddie. Always stained, never cleaned of him.
It didn’t matter. After these next three months, you’d delete it. You told yourself you would, for real this time. You’d erase him, properly let him go until you forgot the sound of his voice and couldn’t even recall the first three digits of his phone number. You would. You had to.
You flip the phone back over and face it down on the table, looking up at him, forcing a polite smile. It kills you – it startles him.
“Alright, Mr. Rescue Party. Shall we begin?”
—
You never return to the office.
Hours later, when the sun was setting and the table was littered with empty coffee cups bought by Eddie to continue to fuel the two of you, you receive an email from Lydia.
Leaving and locking up the office now. Hope the meeting with your client went well. See you tomorrow.
You blink rapidly at the message, hardly being able to process the time. It was nearly seven.
“Okay, so, that venue was a no-go,” Eddie says as he approaches the table again, finally stepping back inside from calling your green venue. The two of you had decided it was time to stop sending off emails that could be easily ignored – you were tracking down numbers and calling them directly, now. Forcing them to give an answer then and there rather than putting you off for weeks, “I was right about word traveling between those assholes- What’s wrong?”
He stops just before he pulls out his chair, leaning down with his forearms pressed into the back of the seat when he notices your expression of shock.
It had been easy, too easy, to waste away the hours with Eddie. And, sure, the main distraction had been planning and putting everything into action. Eddie had narrowed down his top three venues, you had found a few businesses that would service an open bar and had begun to gather quotes. But it hadn’t all been business.
Small things had slipped in. A short conversation had been had about the best bars in town when you’d begun that side quest, Eddie admitting which bars in town let him frequent them while offering the most privacy (not many, unsurprisingly) and you’d listed a few of the clubs your coworkers liked to frequent. No overlap to be found. But then, there had been the joking after Eddie called one of his other top three venues and put them on speaker, allowing you to hear the way the owner chewed Eddie out for the time he’d caused chaos at a show that wasn’t even his own. The moment the owner hung up, Eddie had made a face, somewhere between embarrassment and irritation, until you’d finally spoken up and mocked one of the last things the owner had said before the dial tone.
“Don’t you ever call here again,” you’d jokingly mimicked in a deep and comical voice, wagging a finger in Eddie’s direction in fake scolding.
It hadn’t even been that funny. But the two of you had still descended into giggles like two children, until tears pricked the corners of your eyes and your stomach ached just a little bit.
Small moments. Small exchanges. Things that were personal, things you wouldn’t have done with a normal client. Things that had a full day slipping away from you quietly in the darkest corner of a coffee shop you never even knew existed mere blocks from your work.
“It’s seven, Eddie,” you tell him as if he should be just as taken back. He hardly blinks an eye, “We’ve been here seven hours.”
“And?” the creases between his brows finally smooth, standing back up straight, “We’ve been getting shit done, and we’ve been paying customers the entire time. I don’t see the issue.”
The issue is the way you made work not feel like work.
The issue was the cycle you had been fearing, avoiding, and falling victim to ever since he’d been waiting for you in that conference room that very first day. Every time Eddie would inch back into your vision, whether right before you as he was now or in the form of emails you’d find yourself reading over before bed, you were forgetting the anger. It kept feeling like a time machine, sending you right back to that very first night. Before the fame, before the hurt.
You have no idea how you’ll manage to keep this to just a parting gift.
“I just…” your words fall short, because he’s technically right, “I didn’t realize we’d been here that long.”
Eddie takes his seat with a nonchalant shrug, “Easy to lose track of time when you’re actually getting shit done,” he stops, blanches at his words as he stares at you as if he thinks he’s just insulted you, “Wait, I- No, I just mean- I don’t mean you weren’t getting things done before. I swear.”
You’re not offended in the slightest, “I know. But to be fair, I really wasn’t. I’m sorry for doubting how helpful you’d be when you showed up earlier today.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What? Apologize?”
“No, discredit yourself,” he stresses. And you hadn’t noticed it, but your two chairs had seemingly grown closer over the hours as his knee bumps your thigh, “You… I’m not an easy client. You were handed a shit deal, plus Matt really wasn’t giving you anything to work with. I wasn’t giving you anything to work with.”
“I’m working for the entire band,” you remind him, remind yourself.
All it does is remind you of even more people you miss. Gareth, who was the little brother you never had back in Hawkins. Jeff, who had been one of your closest confidants. Craig, who would’ve answered your phone calls even in the dead of night. All friends you gave up when you walked out on Eddie. You always forget that – you didn’t just leave behind one person, you left behind an entire life.
Eddie’s phone buzzes, and he makes no move to grab it, “Have they been helpful?”
You stare at the phone, waiting for him to reach out. He doesn’t.
“Sort of.”
Another buzz. Another unanswered message Eddie clearly has no interest in responding to.
“Sort of? What did they ask for in their lists?”
Another buzz. Finally, you break free of whatever conversation Eddie’s trying to have, and lean forward to grab his phone and pass it to him, “You need to check that. What if it’s Matt?”
Eddie doesn’t glance at the phone, only crosses his arms, effectively tucking the phone out of your sight as well, “He can wait. What did the other guys ask for?”
You can hear the next buzz, more muffled against his t-shirt and beneath his jacket.
“Eddie.”
“Sugar.”
He knows the nickname is a weapon against you. He uses it more deliberately this time, not letting it just slip out as it had at the office.
“Open bar, fuzzy robes, normal things,” you finally spit out, trying to not let the echo of him calling you that name to worm into your brain and begin to rot you away, “Now, check your phone. Please.”
This time, when the phone buzzes, Eddie removes it from being trapped beneath his armpit and actually looks at the screen. You know immediately you were right; his face falls as he reads over the missed messages, all his teasing fading and that air of light-hearted arrogance being sucked out of the space between you two.
You don’t need to ask, but you do anyways, “Rockstar duty calls?”
He looks up rapidly, mouth already forming the word no, but you shake your head to stop his lie.
It’s fine. It’s entirely acceptable that other people need his attention, that he has other affairs to tend to. You had gotten used to it when the two of you were dating and he first made his big break, you shouldn’t expect a change now when you were nothing more than a stranger working for him. It shouldn’t sting, and you shouldn’t feel a small fraction of you hopeful that he’ll be defiant and insist on ignoring those duties.
Today was only ever meant to be one cup of coffee. The fact that you two had lost track, fumbled and turned one cup into four, was only a blip.
“I get it,” you say, sinking back into your chair. And you did, you really did. It was easier now to understand than it was back then, back when this very type of situation started the domino effect that was the beginning of the end, “You should go if they need you. You are a rockstar, after all.”
It’s a hard sentiment to say without a trace of bitterness, but you manage. He’s a rockstar. All his hopes, all his dreams, have finally come true. He gets to breathe, he gets to be rowdy, he gets to hear crowds scream back all those lyrics you’d watched him write in his bedroom back in Hawkins. He got everything he wished for.
You should be happy for him. If this arrangement is going to work, you have to be happy for him.
“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asks you as he shoves his phone into the pocket of his jeans, standing and beginning to gather empty coffee cups.
“Work,” you shrug, crossing your arms as you glare at the laptop, already feeling preemptive frustration at the thought of picking up where you’ve left off today, alone.
It’s not just because you want Eddie to join you on the project. It’s not Eddie’s help that you specifically want. It’s just nice to have someone to help shoulder the load with you, right?
“At the office?”
“That’s where I usually work, yes.”
“Come to my place instead.”
Time almost freezes. He’s standing there, nearly all of the empty latte cups balanced in his arms, and looking at you as if he hadn’t just asked the most insane possible thing of you.
“Eddie,” you speak softly, carefully, as your arms drop from your chest, “I don’t think that Lydia would be okay with that-”
“I’m a client,” he points out, “Besides, you’ve been stressed about this project, and I like to think I helped with that today.”
He did. God, he did.
“Just think about it,” he’s nearly begging. Beneath the lowlights of this cafe, features dancing with the reflection of some Christmas lights pinned up to line the top of the wall as they cast an aesthetic glow of gold over the surroundings, Eddie Munson is begging for your time, “You have my number. Think it over tonight, and just text me if you decide you want to. I can send over my address.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Probably not,” at least he’s being honest. But quickly, it becomes apparent he’s misinterpreted you as he continues on, “You’re probably going to get photographed by paparazzi when you show up if you’re not careful, and if they figure out you’re there to see me, you’ll probably end up on the cover of some lowlife magazine-”
“That’s not the part I’m concerned with,” you lament, finally choosing to stand now. The last thing on your mind is publicity, or cameras, or magazines, “I mean, I don’t think it’s a good idea to make this,” you motion your arms between the two of you, “A habit.”
His face falls ever so slightly. A soft drop of his eyebrows, a gentle pinch of his lips. You swear, you watch him nearly drop one of the coffee cups before he regains composure, “It won’t be. It’s… It’s just work, yeah?”
Just work. Just a project. Just one final parting gift. This is nothing more than a source of closure for the two of you, a slamming of the door on that chapter of your life where the boy standing before you was your end-all, be-all. He’s right – it’s just work.
Your voice hardly comes out a whisper, “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“I’ll think about it,” it takes everything in you to level your words, to keep them from shaking, “I’ll ask Lydia, and I’ll let you know.”
A slow smile spreads across his face, and you can’t ignore the way it puts the glimmering lights on the ceiling to shame. No shade of gold, no twinkling reflection on the windows overlooking the busy street, can compare to the knife his hopeful smile strikes in you. It’s the type of smile that aches, that resonates, that haunts.
It’s the kind of smile that tells you you’re going to bleed for this, no matter how much you resist.
“Cool,” he nods, finally taking a few steps back, “I’ll see you tomorrow then, maybe?”
The kind of smile that tells you the bloodstain is never going to wash out, whether this is all just for work or not.
“See you tomorrow, Eddie.”
The idea of closure is about as tangible as smoke and mirrors as he leaves you alone in the dark corner of the coffee shop. It almost hurts as much as it did the first time he walked out to be a rockstar.
eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @@loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious
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#my writing#ghost's writing#maroon#eddie munson#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson fic#eddie munson angst#rockstar eddie munson#will she go to his place the next day? will something happen at his apartment? will i go insane by the end of writing this fic? who knows !#certainly not me#as the writer it is not my place to know these things#i am just a vessel for my visions#they frustrate me endlessly#as always#if it ain't good do not tell me#this is burning slower than i expected#wah
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TMP 1 Adventures (Patreon)
#Doodles#Tamagotchi#Yaaay I can share them! My Tamas! ♥#It's been a fun experience to play with Tamagotchis for the first time haha - it's a much slower burn than I could've expected!#I only ever got to even hold a Gotch for maybe twenty minutes up til this point? Lol - not very long at all!#As you can imagine I only got to play with the Egg Hatching/Baby stage which is very chaotic and needy so that's what I had to go off of#It's different! Not Super different in certain ways lol ♪ But different!#Smol very graciously agreed to play with me since I got both a Mesu and Osu :D She got the Mesu and named her Honey#And I kept the Osu and named him Bee! :D#I'm still in a little bit of conflict as to whether the Device (Gotchi) is named Bee or if the Creature (Tama) is named Bee lol#I think I've decided that the Device /and/ the first generation of Tama is named Bee and then all subsequent generations are puns on Bee lol#So for Bee's child I named him Bay - BayBee lol#Bee was a cute little lad <3 I miss him a bit :') But he was a good father as well! Fed little BayBee haha#It was sooo cute to see their futons next to each other and then a little bittersweet to see little Bay's all alone one night :'''D#Other fun little things like smol raising Honey differently than I raised Bee so we ended up with non-counterparts lol#If you know anything about Osutchi raising yes you are allowed to judge me on my competency lol#I still think he's cute! He was almost half Honey's size tho which I found funny haha#I love my very big wife#There was also the fun of having a somewhat scuffed sleep schedule but them always waking me up Earlier than necessary thanks guys#They were mostly good! Bee was awful for naps tho lol - and I watched both of them at night since smol was scared she'd miss Honey's wake up#We also discussed the implications of the babies being twins but also....growing up to be.........partners? Uhm#My personal headcanon was something akin to parthenogenesis and non-mutating identical genes leading to identical babies-#Look they're code as far as I'm aware virtual pets don't suffer from inbreeding lol#And if they do well darn oh gosh oh no I guess I'll just have to get more lol ♪#They are hecka cute <3 They quite literally grow up so fast! I'm glad I get to play :D
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i seriously wrote down instructions for today and like encouragement and everything (to combat the voice in my head) and set alarms and put timers on the apps or deleted them and then i just failed to implement it all or keep to schedule or control myself in any way
#there's something wrong with me and i don't know what it is and my life as i know it is nearing its end#because i'm not enough for this :/// i got a second chance and still i'm not enough#and i try not to despair or to move forward and it's like there's no floor in front of me#like the baby in the psychological experiment. i can't crawl forward i can't mommy save me.#i feel like such a wreck. at my big age#now i know i'm only like one fourth into my life (third if i'm not lucky) and there's probably decades more to go but i already feel like#i can't do this#like i've run out of options and it's finally over. crash and burn like i always expected.. a slower process than that but crash and burn#i can't fix myself in four days and then write a research paper. i might as well move to iceland and become a hermit or kill myself while#looking at one of their cool volcanoes#or throw myself in! that could be fun#anyway it's whatever i'll just fail this course and break my own heart and spirit and then become a worse version of myself and turn into#my dad or something#kata.txt
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hi @sourpatchsquids! thank you for your question.
as an artist with ADHD, i know this struggle very well. unfortunately offering advice on this kind of thing can be tricky, because what works for me may not work for you (and vice versa!). nonetheless, i can try; take whatever works for you, forget the rest, or reshape any part of it as you see fit. :)
but before i offer any actual tools, i have one caveat. i want you to take a moment to reflect and consider if you should be:
changing expectations
the timing of this question seems fated, because just the other day i had a therapy session wherein i expressed my grief and frustration over struggling to work lately due to my seasonal depression. it's not fair that i'm struggling just because it got a little darker outside! i just want the spark i had in the summer! i was so much more consistent!
my therapist's response: nothing about human beings is consistent. we get sick, we get tired, we get hungry and thirsty (and thirsty) and sad and lonely and restless and stressed and overwhelmed. this all gets amplified for folks who are atypical in some way or another.
when my therapist compared our seasonal cycles to those of plants and other animals, who wilt and slow down and hibernate, i protested aloud that i wanted to be a perennial instead. at this she said: even perennials change with the seasons. rose bushes have to be pruned, sometimes down to half their height! it was a dose of perspective i didn't particularly want, but really needed.
so when you're struggling to work through executive dysfunction, burnout, or brain fog, it can help to first check in with yourself about a few things. what do you have the capacity for right now? do you need any accommodation? and if so, what changes you might make to accommodate yourself?
with practice and self reflection, i've learned a handful of specific routines that help me when i'm struggling with creative work, which i'll detail next. note that while your question is specifically about music and i am specifically a musician, i believe that all of these suggestions can apply to most any form of digital creative work.
with that in mind:
#1: work slower
when i'm at the top of my game, i can get a LOT done in a day. but when i'm depressed, fatigued, or distracted, i just can't go full steam. sometimes i'll try to convince myself that i can if i just push harder, but what actually ends up happening is that i'm just fiddling with settings and going in circles rather than moving forward.
instead of that, when i want to work a lot but can't, i try to work slow. how slow? however slow i need to. take four hours to figure out the melody for a single verse. take all day to figure out that drum groove. yeah, i take a lot of breaks in between. who says i have to be my Absolute Most Productive Every Day Or Else? that's the puritan work ethic talking. kill it. be kind to yourself.
i'm reminded of advice i once read about some super successful and prolific author (gaiman? king? pratchett?) who said they wrote only four hundred words every weekday. that's already less than the word count of this post, and i'm only—[travels into the future to check my final word count]... 22.8% of the way through writing it!
now, i don't think i could function that way, because ADHD means some days i'm hyperfocused like crazy, and other days i just have no steam at all (more on that in #4-6). but it seems to me that if even someone highly respected in their profession can achieve what they have with only a little bit of work on a regular basis, maybe i don't have to punish myself for not pumping out a finished work every single week.
doing less work per day means you're much less likely to burn out, which does a lot for working more consistently. if that consistency still doesn't look like a five-day work week, that's okay! as long as it helps you work even a little more often when you want to, it's something worth doing.
however, if you're still feeling truly stuck, all hope isn't lost. you can still try:
#2: switch projects
sometimes the reason i'm moving slow is because of a bad brain day, but sometimes the reason is that i just cannot muster the motivation to do the specific task i'm trying to do right now. ADHD is fueled by novelty and interest, and if i'm not interested in what i'm doing, or it's feeling stale, that's a sign that i need to switch gears.
this is why first it's helpful for me to have more than one project going at a time. this might mean completely unrelated works, or it might just mean related tracks as with the music for a game like SLARPG or susan taxpayer.
the idea here is not to start a dozen different projects and bounce around them like i'm playing whac-a-mole—though i have done that. (i don't recommend it.) the idea here is to have a manageable number of different projects i can be working on so that if i get bored or stuck on something, i have fallback options.
what that number of projects is depends entirely on the week. maybe right now it's two, maybe another time it's three. i would probably be getting carried away if i tried more than that, but that's just my own limit. maybe yours is different. that's something for you to think about.
but it doesn't have to stop there.
#3: switch focus
maybe there is this one project that i just HAVE to work on, but the task i'm trying to do at this stage just isn't coming to me. okay, well, why don't i try working on a different task?
let's say i can't figure out what i want to do with the melody in one part of the song:
what if i try jumping ahead to a different part of the melody? ...no, i'm stumped on melodies today.
okay, how about working on the drums instead? ...hmm no, i think i'm just completely tapped out on writing parts right now.
alright, what if i organized my tracks, making sure they're all grouped and named in a way that i can work with easily?
what if i did a rough volume balance for the mix?
and so on. if that's not enough to shake the off stuckness, i might consider: what can i do to make this project more interesting to me?
what happens if i try using an instrument or effect that i almost never reach for?
what if i try sampling something obscure?
what if i bang out the drums using my midi keyboard instead of drawing it in on the piano roll?
any approach that breaks me out of my usual habits is bound to get that feeling of novelty and fun back when i need it.
or maybe i can't do any of that right now, and so i take the time to answer a question from a fellow musician instead. i consider that part of my work, too, in a broader sense. check in with yourself and figure out what you can do right now. the rest will still be there later.
but okay, let's say you try switching gears, and switching again, and again, and nothing is moving. you try new approaches, but that wall of awful is insurmountable in this moment. it happens! the next thing you might try is:
#4: learn something new
when you aren't able to make progress on your projects, you can still make progress on your knowledge and craft. i often find this stokes a flame of inspiration in me where there wasn't one before. and even when it doesn't, it still gets my brain out of that feeling of stuckness and dread and into one of thought and action. learning also benefits in the long term because it adds to the well of knowledge from which you draw for all your future works.
for all the awfulness that exists on the internet, it remains an absolute treasure trove of teaching. there's an endless ocean of videos, blog posts, and articles from which you might learn something about your craft. (and if you sail the seven seas, plenty of book PDFs as well. 🦜🏴☠️)
it's true that the quality and depth of information out there can vary wildly, but in my experience most resources get at least some things right. and the more you research, practice, and figure out what works for you, the better you will learn to differentiate between the advice worth keeping, and the advice to forget. (that goes for all of what i'm saying here, too!)
that said, since our shared focus is music, a few resources i would highly recommend are:
music theory and composition
music matters, 12tone, charles cornell, music with myles, 8-bit music theory, and this introduction by andrew huang
mixing and production
dan worrall (especially this series for fabfilter), kush after hours, red means recording, andrew huang, alice yalcin efe, in the mix
general inspiration
nahre sol, ben levin, david hilowitz, game score fanfare, posy, jerobeam fenderson, open reel ensemble, and ELECTRONICOS FANTASTICOS!
(if any readers have their own helpful resources for creating music or any other media, feel free to share in the replies & reblogs! 💓)
of course, on an especially bad day, it might be a challenge to seek out information, let alone retain it. that can feel pretty bad, but remember: be kind to yourself. the next thing you might consider trying is:
#5: consume art you love
not just music. books. shows. movies. games. illustration. animation. whatever moves and inspires you.
but do it intentionally. don't just pull up some random thing the algorithm suggested! check in with yourself about what you want (or are able) to engage with right now. choose accordingly. if you get a little way into it and realize it's not scratching that itch, hit the bricks. check in with yourself again. wash, rinse, repeat, until you find whatever it is that speaks to you right now.
and do it actively, if you can. don't just let it go in one eye and out the other! really pay attention to the work. what do you like about it? what are its themes and motifs? what makes it work so well? what are its flaws, and how much do they matter? what might you do differently? you can write notes as you do this if it helps, but even simply noticing and thinking goes a long way.
what you don't want to do is come at this with a lens of shame or envy. you're not here just to say to yourself, "ugh, if only i could do THAT." it's okay if it happens. use that thought as a springboard for curiosity: "well okay, how DID they do that? do i have the resources for it? if so, how could i apply that to my own work? if not, how can i adapt it, or what do i need to learn?" keep your mind open and approach the work with a sense of wonder.
as a creative person, it's very easy to think, "i should be making something right now, not watching a movie!" but that thought forgets something vital: your art is a response in a conversation. of course the "language" you use is your own, and maybe if you're lucky you'll invent a new word. but most of the words you use have been around long before you were born. you're just one voice in a dialogue that spans continents and generations, and that's okay. it's even the whole point.
none of us is an island. we are profoundly social animals. just as we can't live without eating, we can't make without learning. so half of making art is consuming it. consider this part of the process as well.
and finally,
#6: rest, and live your life
let's say you're in really dire straits. you've tried working slower. you tried changing focus, you tried changing projects. you want to take in new information or actively engage with your favorite art, but you're not in the headspace for it. what now?
take a nap. take a walk. take a shower. eat a nice meal, or an okay one. talk to a friend. maybe even do that chore you've been putting off (you know the one).
it's human to always crave making, but you're not a machine—and even if you were, machines need regular maintenance, too! you wouldn't drive a car that's completely out of gas, and you won't do yourself any favors treating your body that way either.
i know that when you take a break it feels as though you're not accomplishing anything, but you are: you're taking care of your animal self. and while you do that, your creative brain doesn't stop working! much like windows, it has countless background processes running at any given moment, with inscrutable names like "cbdhsvc_692da" or "Microsoft Edge Update Service." it's true, i checked.
when you're stuck on a project and you step away to rest, your brain is still chipping away at your ideas unconsciously. i like to tell people, "it's percolating." much like waiting for a pot of water to boil, that idea is still heating up, even when you take a step away. just be sure to check in on it once in a while. the time will pass, and it'll be boiling again before long. :)
before i go, i'll leave you with one last thing to keep in mind as you try all of these strategies:
be kind to yourself.
being human is just about one of the hardest things you can do. let alone being a human trying to survive capitalism while living with disabilities! the last thing you need on top of that is to overwork yourself, talk to yourself negatively, or treat yourself harshly. there are plenty of other people in the world who do that to you—don't be one of them.
i'm not saying that you shouldn't try to challenge yourself, to test your limits and go above and beyond your ambitions, if that's what you want to do. just remember that hard work and self compassion are not mutually exclusive. so be careful not to bully yourself. take pride in the progress you make, even when it seems small. encourage yourself like you would a friend who's going through a hard time. and when you challenge yourself, be your own cheerleader.
i hope you find this advice helpful! remember, this is just what helps me, so don't feel like you have to follow any of it exactly. maybe taking time to learn new information helps break you out of your rut more than working slowly, so you reach for that tool first. maybe having multiple projects going at once is too distracting for you, so you prefer to stick to one at a time. whatever your needs are, feel free to alter and adapt these ideas to fit you.
thank you for reading, and i wish you the best of luck in your creating.
with care,
bee 🐦
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August || Chapter One
Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid
Chapter Description: After a few days, you are back at the office whenever you have an emotional outburst over the JJ/Spencer situation. That leaves you to have a soul shattering boundary you need to put into place.
Content/Warnings: Drama in the workplace, mentions of questioning self worth, Penelope is the best friend ever (duh), horrible friends, Spencer is an ass (again, sorry lmao)
WC: 2K
Navigation || August Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Request
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“I don’t think I can come in today. I’m sick." You spoke to Emily over the phone, even feigning a cough, as you were just hoping she’d fall for it. It was only a few days after the wedding, the whole water in the face incident creeping up to embarrass you.
“You can’t avoid them forever, you know. Now come to the office. All you need to do is work and then go home. No need to talk to JJ or Spencer.” The unit chief spoke over the phone, her tone making you just feel the disapproving look on her face.
“Fine..” You huffed a bit while pushing yourself up from your couch, already dressed for the day, anyway. “I’ll be there soon.” With a defeated sigh, you were hanging up the phone and pocketing the device. It would be a good day, right? All you had to do was get through it.
The drive to the office was horrible, feeling nauseous with each mile you drove. Most people would assume that after your small outburst at the wedding, you’d feel better. That was far from the case. The action just made you feel worse, knowing that Spencer nor JJ attempted to follow you out, to explain themselves. There was radio silence from both of them.
You probably should’ve expected that.
As you arrived at the dreaded building and parked in the parking garage, it wasn’t long until you were on the elevator and on your way up to the floor you needed to get to. The more you stood there, the sicker you felt. Facing two people who you are forced to work with is going to do nothing but hurt you even further. You could quit, although then you’d be homeless. Putting in a transfer was a good option, even if you’d miss your other teammates.
The sound of the elevator’s ding was tearing you from your thoughts, your steps deliberately smaller and slower just to take the last few seconds to prepare yourself. The minute your hand was on the glass doors of the bullpen, you knew there was no more hiding.
Much to your surprise, the team was too busy at their desks to even look up. Thank god. You quietly approached your desk, your purse being placed underneath, as you took your seat. That got everyone’s attention.
“Hey.” Luke spoke first, a smile on his face. “You’re later than you usually are, was worried we’d have to come get you.” He joked, causing Tara to laugh softly from her desk.
“We would’ve been there too. It isn’t a good workday when you’re not here.”
At least you knew the rest of the team considered you as a friend. No way they’d ever do the things JJ and Spencer did to you. Just thinking of them had a frown on your face, your eyes on a file that you’d opened previously.
“Well, I couldn’t leave my favorite people hanging, could I?” You finally broke the silence while offering a forced smile. The idea of a transfer just made you feel horrible now. You were stuck here, no escape in sight.
While you were working on a case file you’d neglected, it wasn’t long before the door was opening again. This time, there was laughter and lighthearted discussion from two very distinct voices that you recognized. God damn it.
It was best to keep your eyes down, even though you could feel every person’s eyes burning into your skin, just waiting for a reaction. You felt like a circus act, expected to perform based on one interaction you had a few days ago.
The three of you didn’t even have to look each other in the eyes in order to make the whole room thick with tension that the strongest knife couldn’t even cut. “Can we be adults? I really don’t wanna discuss what happened.” JJ spoke up, knowing the attention was on all three of you.
The audacity of her wanting to move on was what made you finally turn around, your ears heating from the anger that was still deep inside you. “Are you kidding me? You wanna be an adult and not get questions?” You asked, unable to help the laugh that fell from your lips. “Here’s a question that I know you want to be asked; How’s Will doing? Judging by how you wasted his time for.. Eleven years? Better yet, how are Michael and Henry? I think that someone needs to look out for them.” Venom seeped deep into every syllable.
She had a family. A husband who loved her, children who adored her and needed her. Yet here she was, with a man who she hadn’t even shown any interest in. The whole situation made you sick to even think about.
“That’s not fair.” The blonde spoke up, visibly hurt by the topic being brought up. The absolute fucking nerve.
“You’re right. It’s not fair. It’s not fair to Will and the boys at all. I guess you didn’t stop to think about them, did you?”
“Enough!” Emily snapped from the doorway of her office, arms crossed over her chest. “This is ridiculous. The last thing any of us need is you two bickering all the time. I suggest you solve this and let it go. I will not deal with the bullshit. I’m sorry.”
The frustration of your unit chief made you take a breath, putting your hands up. “I can’t pretend like this is right and I will not endorse this fraud of a relationship. If you choose to fire me, that’s fine.” Your built up anger and hurt made you push in your chair, your purse on your arm as you were storming out of the bullpen.
Penelope was the one that caught you in the hallway as you were making your escape. “Wait!” She screamed, quickly following behind you and grabbing your arm before you could make it to the elevator. “Come hang out with me for a little bit. Don’t make any rash decisions.”
You didn’t answer, instead just letting the tech analyst pull you behind her into the safety of the batcave. As soon as that heavy door was closed and you realized you were with one of your best friends, it was like the dam holding in all your tears had been burst open as a hot stream of tears was running down your cheeks.
“Oh, honey..” Penelope frowned softly as she was letting her arms wrap around your body, giving you a tight squeeze as she was rubbing your back. “It’s okay, you can sit in here as long as you want. We will just tell Emily that you need some Garcia time.” Everyone could benefit from such time.
You were forced into one of the chairs while the bubbly blonde grabbed one of her many phones to inform Emily on what was going on. “Just so you know, I don’t think you’re wrong for feeling the way you do. I would be just as upset.” She assured, the woman now sitting down beside you while gently holding your hand. “I just think that you should maybe calm down a bit. We don’t need any physical fights.”
“I can’t help it, Pen. Why? Why would JJ encourage me to tell Spencer how I feel about him and then jump on him at the next opportunity. She has a family.” You knew that she wouldn’t have a concrete answer for you but you had to admit, it was nice just ranting to her about it. “It also hurts knowing that Spencer just.. Stopped talking to me. It made me feel like I was a placeholder for her. Like he was just entertaining himself until what he truly wanted came around..”
There was a soft silence between you both, though it was soon being broken whenever there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Penelope called to the mystery guest, although the both of you were in a stunned silence whenever Spencer Reid was poking his head through the door.
“I come in peace, just let me talk.”
“Too little, too late. I don’t wanna hear it.” You spoke, standing your ground.
Instead of taking the hint, the man just entered the room before closing the door behind him. “I understand that you’re mad at me, pissed at me even. I can handle it. That being said, I don’t want trouble. I came to personally apologize. I was a shitty friend to you these past few days with not reaching out.”
“You are a shitty friend, Spencer. You know, I thought you were supposed to be by my side. I don’t expect you to be madly in love with me but what kind of friend ignores someone for days? What kind of friend makes their friend feel unimportant and makes them question their self worth?” You asked, keeping your composure as you were going to put everything on the table.
“I think you’re a horrible friend. Not just to me but to Will. I think you’re a horrible person who broke up a family. JJ may have left Will but you didn’t even stop and try to make her consider her husband. You were selfish.”
It seemed like a sobering realization, judging by the way Spencer’s eyes widened and his body went stiff. He needed to hear that, even if he wasn’t planning on changing things. “I- Wow. I don’t know what to say,” He let out an awkward chuckle as his hand rubbed the back of his neck.
“I’m sure you don’t. Doesn’t sound like a good situation whenever someone says it out loud, does it?” You asked, voice cracking toward the end of the sentence as you were clearing your throat. “I just want you to know that I have no interest in talking to you outside of work. I think it’s best for you just to stay away.” A necessary boundary that killed you inside, however it needed to be put into place.
“You don’t mean that. I don’t wanna lose you permanently like that. Please, just take some time to consider.”
“You lost me the moment that you chose to devote every ounce of your time to someone who didn’t ever say that she wanted to be with you until the night you were in a hostage situation together.”
“We weren’t even dating, listen to yourself. We had sex, what, a few times? I hardly find that as something serious, especially whenever you never even seemed like you objected to the thought of something casual.”
“Spencer Reid!” Penelope’s horrified voice was what solidified that you weren’t crazy, that he was in the wrong just as much as you could be.
You wanted to scream, punch him, cry, and just lose it. This wasn’t the place for such outbursts but you knew that the minute you got out of everyone’s line of sight, you were going to shatter.
Your nights spent with Spencer were something you cherished. The way he’d touch you, the way he’d hold you.. It just felt like there was something real there, the potential for a love story that you could read about in novels, see in movies, even hear in songs. Instead, you were casted off as a casual plaything. There was no care behind the long nights spent tangled in one another’s embrace.
“You know,” There was a laugh erupting, your arms over your chest. “JJ is gonna get bored of you. If she can leave her husband, she will leave you too. I think the day she does that is the day that you will feel the same way that I do. And you know what? I hope it fucking hurts. I hope she keeps you up at night wondering why you weren’t good enough.”
With that, you were done. Emily would most definitely be calling you in her office for a meeting in the morning, so you just grabbed your bag and walked to the elevator.
You said what you needed to say and you thought it would make you feel relieved, instead, there was more hurt than you could’ve possibly fathomed.
How stupid you were to think that he actually saw something in you.
#criminal minds fandom#spencer reid fandom#criminal minds fic#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer reid au#spencer reid fanfic#doctor spencer reid#dr spencer reid#strawbeerossi august series#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid scenario
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With your I’ll be there for you series would you be interested in writing about Steve discovering that he has feelings for reader? I think it would be sweet for him to just find even the silliest things she does cute and then him having a little melt down because he realised he’s liked her along. The series is such a great idea! 💭
𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆
"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist
pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader
word count: 4.4k words
warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, drunk!steve, mentions of steve's dad being shitty, angst
summary: in which steve’s drunk and you don’t hesitate to cancel a date to take care of him
author's note: thanks for the request! probably from the moment i started this series/universe i knew that i wanted to have steve realize his feelings first so this request was quite literally perfect for that lol. this is slightly “while you were sleeping” by laufey inspired hence the title. the slow burn is finally starting to come to an end !! (i’m both happy and sad about that lmao) anyways enjoy<3333
general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Winter 1986
You were in the middle of debating between a black skirt and a brown plaid one that Robin convinced you to buy when you two went thrifting just a few days ago when the phone rang.
Leaving both options on your bed, you went to the kitchen to answer it, bottomless aside from the stockings you had already put on because of the cold late February weather.
“Hello?”
“Hello?”
“Steve?” You recognized his voice for the most part, but he sounded a little different. A little far away, like he was calling from the oldest phone in the universe.
“Oh, hey.” The way he said the simple two words both confused and amused you because it sounded as if he didn’t expect you to be the person on the other end of the line.
You laughed a bit. “‘Oh, hey’? Don’t sound so disappointed. You called me.”
“I know. Sorry. I meant to call Eddie,” He said, and it was then that you heard what should’ve been obvious from the moment he said “Hello” to you— the way his words weren’t necessarily slurry, just slower than usual.
He was drunk, and you now recognized the voice that you had become so used to hearing since Steve’s sixteenth birthday when he snuck his dad’s whiskey and you both only had two shots of it before feeling it fully.
“Why would you call him? Aren’t you two together right now?” You asked, your confusion taking precedence over the amusement you felt in this moment.
Earlier that day, before you left the apartment to head to your twelve o’clock class, he told you that he was going to tag along with Robin, Vickie, and Eddie to some art show thing after his shift that night at Family Video; you would’ve gone too if you didn’t already have plans for the night.
“Also, I didn’t know that you could get drunk at an art show,” You added. “I’ll definitely make sure to go next time.”
“I didn’t go with them,” He told you, and before you could ask where he was, he answered the unspoken question. “I’m actually at a bar right now.”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “What? Why?”
“Very long story. Dad shit. What else is new, right?” Steve answered with a breath of a laugh.
He made his words sound lighthearted and as if whatever happened didn’t really affect him, but you, of course, didn’t see it that way. Without even being with Steve right then, standing in front of him and reading his facial expressions, you still saw through what he was trying to play off as “no big deal.” You’d known him more than long enough to know that anything involving his dad was usually always serious. And whatever shitty things his dad said to him this time around drove Steve to a bar rather than back here to the apartment to frustratingly rant to you, and that only worried you.
“Which bar are you at?” You asked softly.
“The only place in town, other than The Hideout, that doesn’t card,” He said and then immediately continued. “But, wait, don’t come here, though. I don’t want you to come get me. That’s why I was trying to call Eddie. I know you have your date tonight.”
Just for a second— actually, probably the entire time you’d been talking to Steve— you’d forgotten about the date, forgotten about the reason why you’d just been debating which skirt to wear, forgotten about what you were supposed to leave for in twenty minutes. And that slightly surprised you because, for the last couple of days, you’d been really excited about it.
Meeting Jamie felt like a sort of “meet cute” moment that was straight out of a romcom, one that you probably would’ve laughed at because of how cheesy it was. You bumped into him in the hallway on the floor of your apartment. He was your neighbor’s, Miss Johnson’s, nephew, and you learned that even though he went to a college about an hour away, he was trying to visit her more often. He had been in the middle of leaving when you saw him, and you gave a friendly wave and smile at first and he started a conversation with you. You two then spent an hour talking in the hallway before you headed inside your apartment to start studying for a test and he asked for your number, which led to more long conversations over the next few days until he asked you on a date.
In a way, it startled you how giddy you found yourself feeling about him after only those few days, how easily and quickly you liked him. It was the first crush that you had in a while that didn’t feel completely hopeless.
But now all of that was the last thing on your mind. It quickly became pushed to the side because you knew that your best friend needed you.
You shook your head in this moment even though Steve couldn’t see you. “No, it’s okay, I’ll come.”
“No, don’t, don’t. I’ll just call Eddie.”
He’s probably not home right now, was what you wanted to tell Steve, but you refrained from doing so at that moment. Instead, you said, “I’ll call him for you.”
The drunken sigh in relief Steve let out was immediate. “Okay, thanks, I don’t think I have any more change for this payphone, anyway.”
“Okay, just stay put and stop drinking.”
“The bartender already cut me off.”
“Good,” You said before saying a final goodbye to him and hanging up.
You then picked the phone up again to dial a different number. You, of course, didn’t attempt to call Eddie and you instead called Jamie. He was completely understanding when you told him that you had to cancel the date because of an emergency, and he said that you two could do the dinner and movie on a different night, which you quickly agreed on.
You put on the brown plaid skirt— quickly deciding that it looked better with the white top you were wearing, anyway— before slipping on a pair of shoes and grabbing your coat, shoving your car keys and wallet into the pockets, and then leaving the apartment.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
The drive to Webster’s took less than fifteen minutes and the current emptiness of it didn’t surprise you that much. From the handful of times that you’d gone to the place with Steve, Eddie, and Robin, it became a known fact that things didn’t become “lively” until after ten, and it was currently only a little after nine.
You spotted Steve sitting on a stool at the counter, head down in his folded arms. You sat in the empty seat next to him and tapped the side of his shoulder until he sat up and looked at you.
“Glad to know you’re alive, Harrington.”
He smiled at you and you gave him a small smile back, he must have forgotten that he’d told you not to come to the bar.
“I feel barely alive, actually.”
“Still counts.”
Steve only looked at you for a moment, taking notice of what you were wearing beneath your unzipped coat.
“You look nice,” He said and then seemed to realize something and his smile dropped. “Wait, shit, your date. You shouldn’t be here right now.”
“It’s fine. We’re just gonna reschedule it.”
“I’m sorry.”
You shook your head at him. “No, don’t be. It’s just a first date, anyway. Your drunk ass needing a ride home is obviously more important than that.”
Steve laughed a bit. “I guess I’ll take that as a compliment?”
“Yes, you should,” You told him and then watched with furrowed brows as he went to grab the short glass that was in front of him, half full of some dark liquor. He was about to finish what was left in the glass, but you grabbed it from him before he could. “Steve.”
“I still had this from before I called you. I can’t finish it?”
“No, because if you end up throwing up in my car on the drive home, I will have to murder you.”
You looked away from him before he could say anything in response to that and waved at Barry, the usual bartender that you became on a first name basis with after your third time going to Webster’s. Since it was the farthest thing from busy right then, he immediately walked over to you two.
“Hey, Barry, can he have some water?”
He nodded and filled up a glass, sliding it over to Steve and then looking at you. “Glad to see you here. He’s looked like a sad little lost puppy for the past hour.”
Steve stopped mid-sip to scoff. “That’s very not true.”
“Sorry, but I think I have to believe the only other sober person here,” You said and only smiled at the second annoyed scoff he let out, which was hard to take seriously because of his current drunkenness.
Barry got called over by a group of people that just walked in and you silently watched Steve take a few sips from his glass. When he set it down, you lightly nudged his knee with yours. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with your dad?”
Steve simply sighed at first. “He came to Family Video today and went on this huge rant about me and what I’m doing with my life. He thinks my job is shit, and even me going to school part-time isn’t enough. He thinks I’m such a loser in comparison to his friend’s kids who are actually “doing things with their lives.””
You frowned and shook your head. “Fuck him.”
“Cheers to that,” Steve said with a small laugh and held up his glass of water for a second. “He also said that he wants to set me up with this job at his friend’s insurance company, and I immediately said no to that. I’m still not entirely sure what I wanna do yet, but I know it’s not that— some stupid fucking desk job. Especially not one that’s just given to me by my dad.”
“He’s an idiot,” You told Steve. “And also his bullshit is not at all worth the hangover you’ll have in the morning.”
“You might be right about that,” He responded, eyes fixed on his now half-empty glass of water and a small amused smile on his face. “But, it felt good for a second.”
You poked his arm so that he would look at you. “You could’ve talked to me about all of that instead of coming here.”
“I didn’t wanna mess up your date by coming home and talking to you about all of this sad shit. I knew that you’d just worry about me and probably not go,” He mumbled. “And I feel like a dumbass for still messing it up.”
“It’s okay. Seriously. Honestly,” You told him and then playfully smiled as you said your next words. “And you know that I would tell you if it wasn’t okay. I’d definitely hold this over you for at least a week, and force you to clean out Harold’s cage and do my laundry that’s been building up for the past week and a half. But you’re drunk and sad, and I’m way too nice to make you do any of those things.”
He laughed at that, which made you smile wider. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” You said before you stood up from the stool you’d been sitting in. “Now, come on, let’s get out of here before it starts getting crowded. Can you walk okay?”
Steve only nodded in response, which was a nonverbal answer that you weren’t sure if you completely trusted, so you stood close to him as he also got up and pulled some cash out of his back pocket and placed it on the counter.
He then waved at Barry, and you were certain that he probably didn’t mean for it to be so animated and comical, but it very much looked that way. “Goodnight, Barry.”
The bartender laughed a bit when he looked over at you and Steve. “‘Night, guys.”
Steve started heading toward the door first and you followed just a few steps behind him. When he stumbled a bit before even making it out of the door, you grabbed his hand and moved closer to him so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders, and then one of yours circled around his waist.
Leading him to your car was a feat in itself, but once he was settled in the passenger seat and you started driving, he rolled his window down completely and had it like that during the entire ride even though it was freezing cold outside, and that was worse than dealing with his stumbling.
When you made it to the apartment building, his balance was actually a bit more coherent so you didn’t need to do more than just hold his hand during the entire walk to the elevators and then down the hallway to the apartment.
You dragged him to your room and he sighed in contentment when he sat down on the side of your bed; he always liked your mattress better than his own for some reason.
“Wait, don’t fall asleep yet,” You told him before heading over to his room and grabbing a random t-shirt and basketball shorts from one of his drawers. “Here, put this on. I know you’d be mad at me if I let you fall asleep in those jeans.”
“Thanks,” He mumbled with a yawn as you handed the clothes over to him, and then you went to the kitchen as he started changing.
You filled a mug with water and then pulled open the drawer that had the bottle of aspirin in it. Neither you nor Steve were really sure why it lived there instead of in one of your bathrooms, where it probably should’ve been, but you two also didn’t make any effort to move it.
Steve was already asleep and under the covers when you walked back into your room, and you placed the mug and aspirin on the nightstand on his side. You changed into your own pajamas for the night, which simply consisted of an old baggy t-shirt and shorts, before settling in on your side of the bed.
It was still pretty early for a Friday night, barely even ten o’clock, but you didn’t mind going to bed because you were actually a little tired. Steve was turned and facing away from you, but you still watched him and his even breathing for a bit, making sure he was okay before you quickly drifted off to sleep yourself.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Steve didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he could tell that it was pretty early because he could see the just sun starting to rise.
The other things he quickly noticed were that he was in your bed and he had a pounding headache, which was a little confusing at first, but then all of what happened last night started coming back to him.
The shit with his dad, the bar, the accidental phone call to you, and then you coming to the bar and bringing him home— he remembered it all.
With a soft groan, Steve slowly sat up in bed, doing his best not to wake you, and then reached over to grab the water and aspirin you left out for him.
He took the medicine and drank most of the water and then laid back down, turning on his side to face you. Your head was against the pillow and even breaths fell from your slightly parted lips. You looked so peaceful like this, he decided, so pretty.
Steve thought about you and Jamie, and how happy you had been when you talked about him. Steve also knew how excited you’d been about the date, and even though you had told him that it was okay that you had to cancel it last night, he still felt a little bad about it all.
He knew that you would probably do anything for him, and that was completely mutual. If the roles had been reversed last night, Steve wouldn’t have thought twice about canceling a date to go pick you up from some dumb bar. And making those sorts of sacrifices for one another never felt like a question, it just always felt like the obvious thing to do.
It didn’t completely make sense at first, but somehow it was that simple and crystal clear thought that managed to shift something deep down inside of him— it harshly drew the line between best friends and something more. And Steve quickly realized exactly which side he lay on.
Which was confusing because the lines of where your friendship began and ended had always felt so unquestionable— you and him were best friends; nothing more, nothing less.
But it was different now, it changed, and it was this moment that told him that it actually had been that way for a while; probably since you two moved into the apartment.
Starting from that day in August your lives became even more intertwined with one another— which didn’t feel entirely possible because of how close you’d been for so long— but it was true. He hadn’t realized how blurry the lines had been getting since then.
Since you two started beginning your days and ending them in the same home. Since so many nights became spent in each other’s beds; nothing more happening than sleeping and late night talking, but still. Since you two got Harold only a few weeks into living in the apartment, and you both immediately fell into your unserious parental roles in the hamster’s life. Since an unspoken early morning weekend routine fell into place where Steve would make coffee and toast and you’d do the eggs and bacon. Since you two became something equivalent to a married couple that had been together for at least twenty years.
And then Steve realized that actually maybe this something more had always been there— maybe it had always been so fucking obvious.
He thought back to the end of Senior year when you two went to each other’s proms and slow danced at the end of the night because you both thought it would be funny, but those moments actually turned into something really sweet and wholesome; and you’d both think back on it during the most randomest of times.
And then he also thought about smaller things, the parts of your personality that made him feel so goddamn lucky to know you. How you always fiddled with the radio and never settled on a station for longer than a few minutes during perhaps any car ride where Steve was the one driving; something that you’d been doing since the day he got his driver's license and you two went on your first solo car ride together. How pretty much anything you did would only make him smile and playfully roll his eyes or make fun of you.
Steve wasn’t entirely sure why he was having this sort of “epiphany moment” right here, right now, in your bed as he looked at you peacefully sleeping next to him.
It, of course, stemmed from you canceling something that he had known you’d been looking forward to for the last couple of days to instead take care of him, he could recognize that. But, what made that so different from everything else you’d done for each other over the years?
He immediately thought that maybe there was no one straight answer to that question because it wasn’t about what was different. Instead, it was about all of those other moments too. They had slowly built upon each other until it came to this one on this February morning— nine years into your friendship and six and a half months into you two living together— and Steve could finally recognize what it all had meant, and he was ready to accept the truth for what it was too.
He liked you. More than liked, actually. He loved you, he was in love with you.
But, you were also his best friend, the most important person in his life, and he didn’t want to be the reason that that ever got messed up. And that thought was what made him finally look away from you and mutter out a soft, “Fuck.”
Steve quickly got out of the bed, and he was surprised, but also completely grateful, that his quick and hasty movements didn’t manage to stir you awake.
He left your room and went to the kitchen. It was early and he probably should’ve been trying to get a few more hours of sleep, but he wasn’t tired anymore.
The realization was the only thing on his mind— in a matter of seconds, it managed to completely consume it.
Everything else that had been happening the past few months finally made complete sense; Steve saw it all in a different way. He now understood why he couldn’t picture any sort of future with Vanessa when he went out with her a few times back in December even though he really did like her, and why he couldn’t see anything with anyone he went out with. Because deep down, he knew that he could only see that with you. It made sense why his dating life had been in such a rut lately and why he didn’t particularly mind it all that much.
When you two would jokingly say that you both were completely okay with ending up “alone together forever,” he realized now that from his side of things, deep down, it had never been a joke. And he wondered if it was the same way for you.
In an ideal world, the answer would be yes. But, things only felt confusing, and if he was being a thousand percent honest with himself, he didn’t know if that answer was yes in this world.
Steve knew that you really liked Jamie, even in such a short amount of time, so that couldn’t mean that you had any sort of feelings for him. Right? Or maybe you just hadn’t had your own “epiphany moment” yet? Should he tell you about his? Should he tell you about any of what just hit him in the past ten minutes?
His brain felt as if it was going to fucking explode with all of the questions circling his mind right then, and the coffee he was making failed to distract his thoughts from everything.
He came to the quick decision that he wouldn’t tell you what he was feeling; it would just be easier that way. There wouldn’t be any way for him to potentially fuck things up between you two if he simply ignored what he was feeling. It was easy to imagine how drastically your friendship would change if he told you everything and you didn’t feel the same. Therefore, he could push it all away to make sure that nothing changed for the worse.
When the coffee was done, he poured some into a fresh mug and took a long sip. Any other time, he couldn’t really stand straight black coffee, but the bitterness tasted good for once; he decided to focus on that instead of anything else.
Steve wasn’t sure how long he had been leaning back against the counter and sipping from his mug before you came out of your room. It could’ve been one minute or ten; right then, time felt as if it was moving both slow and fast.
“Hey,” You said, giving him a small smile and rubbing the tiredness out of your eyes. “I’m surprised you’re up already. I definitely expected you to be passed out until at least ten.”
It felt equivalent to a light switch flipping how quickly Steve felt affected by your smile and simply you in that moment. He’d probably seen you like this a million times before— just waking up and still in your now wrinkled pajamas from the night— but it felt entirely different now. And that was when he knew how fucked he was.
“Yeah, I, uh, I woke up and couldn’t, um, go back to sleep… So, yeah, just came out here. Made some, um, coffee,” He ultimately responded and then inwardly sighed at how flustered he was right then. He let out a quick laugh. “Sorry, blame the hangover for my inability to say sentences right now.”
If that was how he was going to act around you from now on, he knew that trying to keep this a secret was probably the most unrealistic idea ever.
You laughed a bit and nodded, seemingly unfazed by his awkwardness right then, and opened up the fridge. “You think you can stomach eggs and bacon?”
“Yes to the bacon, but I think I should play it safe and say no to the eggs.”
“Makes sense,” You said, closing the fridge after grabbing the bacon. You placed the pack on the counter near the stove and then looked at Steve. “You feeling better about all of that dad shit?”
It was almost comical how even though it had been the reason for everything that happened last night, the conversation he had with his dad was the farthest thing from his mind now.
“I’m good, actually.”
“Good,” You said, smiling at him and then reaching out to grab his hand and give it a light reassuring squeeze; which, unknown to you, made his heart feel as if it was going to somersault out of his chest. “Remember, the next time this happens, come to me and we both can get drunk here for free. Or we can just run away and join the circus, or whatever it was we agreed on when we were twelve.”
Steve only nodded and gave you a small smile in response because it felt as if that was all he could do at that moment. If he attempted to say anything, he felt like his words would’ve started or ended with, “I’m in love with you.”
He changed his decision then. He knew that he had to tell you everything because it wouldn’t be easy to simply bury it down and ignore it. There was no way that he’d be able to keep this from you, at least not for a long time, it was already swallowing him whole. And although he had no idea when or how he would tell you the truth, he made a quick promise to himself that he would do it.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
let me know ur thoughts<333
(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)
#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x you#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x fem!reader#stranger things fluff#steve harrington imagines#steve harrington x reader smut#stranger things imagine#stranger things series#stranger things smut
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Look okay like I can't stop with the headcanons someone send help.
Between being married to a chef, and prior to that being the primary cook in my household from age sixteen to twenty-four, I absolutely love cooking. It's been one of my passions for years.
So we're doing headcanons about Reader asking the OPLA boys to cook with them.
Obligatory Sanji foodporn gif for purely aesthetic purposes
Not to be dramatic but I could watch that all day.
In the Kitchen
SFW
Definitely on the fluffy side.
LA!Sanji X Reader, LA!Zoro X Reader, LA!Shanks X Reader, LA!Mihawk X Reader, LA!Buggy X Reader
Sanji
"—and this is a boning knife, and this is a santoku, and this is a mezzaluna, and—"
Please.
Please please please cook with him. It will make his entire year.
You could wake him up out of a dead sleep at two in the morning and tell him you want to cook with him, and he'll be wide awake and literally dragging you into the kitchen in excitement.
You sharing in his passion is far more important than anything else.
And you'd best believe he's going to use it as an excuse to be even more flirty than usual.
Standing behind you with one arm around your waist while he shows you the best way to hold a knife to keep your wrist from cramping.
Kissing you on the cheek, brushing his lips to your neck, praising you for absolutely every little thing.
There's a very good chance this entire operation is going to devolve into a kitchen make-out session.
Zoro
"Hey, uh...is this supposed to smell like smoke?"
Just bear with him, he's trying.
Tells you he could probably burn a pot of boiling water if he tried hard enough.
You absolutely believe him.
Gets super frustrated about cutting his finger trying to dice an onion but absolutely refuses to give up. Unfortunately his frustration makes him even more clumsy with the knife and...oops.
Tries to multi-task like you do...and definitely ends up burning something.
Sitting at the table afterwards, tapping his foot and sulking about you having to put band-aids on his fingers. Says he's probably going to stick to swords after this...
...But secretly, he's pretty sure if you ever ask him again, he'll do it. He's too stubborn to give up for one, and for another he honestly enjoyed the experience with you despite the chaos.
Shanks
"Ooh, can we do that thing where you pour booze in the pan and it goes up in flames?"
So excited about this, living his best life like always.
Trying to flip the knife in the air and catch it and nearly dropping it on his toe instead.
Literally like a little kid.
He's got a little bit of know-how around the kitchen, but there's definitely room for improvement.
Gets beyond excited about getting anything right, especially if you praise him for it.
Standing behind you with his arm around your waist to watch how you do things, his cheek or his chin resting on your shoulder, just smiling while he listens to you explain the process.
Honestly he's just having a brilliant time doing anything at all with you.
Mihawk
"Are we absolutely certain this doesn't need more wine?"
He's way better at it than you expected, honestly—but then again, he has been living alone for literal years, so it's not that much of a stretch.
No, you may not use his cross-knife to peel potatoes with, no matter how much it resembles a paring knife, stop asking.
Cooking and wine absolutely go hand in hand with him—whether the recipe involves wine or not (but if he's choosing it probably does), he's still having a glass.
Pretty competitive about who's better at making what, but in a less serious and more playful manner.
Pulling out all the stops to ensure you're impressed—you're going to be making something incredibly fancy and classic, like Coq a Vin or Duck Cassoulet.
Absolutely iron focus—if he's cutting vegetables or seasoning something and you're trying to talk to him, there's a fair chance he won't even hear you at first.
Prefers slower methods of cooking—things that need to simmer for a while, braising, so on and so forth. More time to drink wine.
Buggy
"Penne for your thoughts? Don't give me that look, you know I'm hilarious."
An excuse to play with knives? Sign him the hell up.
Telling you he worked in the kitchen when he was on Roger's crew, but failing to mention all he did was wash dishes.
He has no idea what he's doing but he's having a simply marvelous time of it.
The food puns. Dear gods the food puns are unending. You're probably going to end up cutting yourself from either laughing or groaning incessantly.
He's definitely going to detach his hands and chill at the table or sit on the counter while they do the work for him.
Manages to catch something on fire within minutes (and you're ninety-nine percent sure it was intentional).
Just reveling in the chaos while you're rushing to get the baking soda to pour over said fire and clap a lid on the pan.
Don't leave him unattended if you value the continued functionality of your kitchen.
#opla#dracule mihawk#mihawk one piece#one piece fanfiction#fluff#one piece headcanons#mihawk opla#mihawk x reader#shanks opla#shanks#one piece shanks#shanks x reader#zoro x reader#zoro opla#one piece zoro#one piece sanji#sanji x reader#opla sanji#sanji#buggy opla#buggy one piece#buggy x reader
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Congrats on 2.7k! The villain(ess) saga is my bread and butter hehe.
Anyways Id like to request borderline desperate Jamil trying to figure out Readers fav food as they can and will literally eat anything without complaint(even Lilia's cooking lol). Thank you 💖
‧₊˚✧A Dash of Sweetness ‧₊˚✧
↳ Reader S/O who eats anything
feat: Jamil
genre: fluff (like shojou manga level sweetness)
note: no pronouns used with the reader, idiots in love, kinda oblivious!reader, roughly 1k words,
Random storytime, my big bro once got hungry and cooked himself eggs while the rest of us were out, and no one told him the eggs went bad. He was absolutely fine the entire day and none of us would have known if not for my bro saying it’s weird that the egg he ate was green. Yet, he said the french toasts I made once were bland T_T
Anyway, this took a while because I honestly didn't know how this story will end up, hopefully you enjoy it ^_^
2.7K Followers Writing Event 2023
Jamil can deny all day and night, but he really likes to see you enjoy his cooking. For all the times he told you that he already has his hands full with Kalim, there was suspiciously always a warm lunchbox filled with aromatic meals made by yours truly. All for that bright smile of yours whenever you would finish off the “leftover” meal that Jamil would generously share with you.
When Jamil realized that others have fed you, his hidden competitive nature rose. While there were many competent students with skills in the kitchen, within Jamil was a desire to see a special shine in your eyes when he cooks your favorite dish, a visual only for him.
But be it due to pride or embarrassment, Jamil doesn’t seem to be the type to be upfront with his intentions, nor does he take the straightforward tactic. Instead of asking you directly, he would ease his way through conversations with your friends just to find out your most favored dish per chance. But that turned out that that was harder than he expected.
Day after day, Jamil would hand you a new type of dish and watch your reaction for the slightest hint of preference. Perhaps a raise of your eyebrows, a slower time to take in the taste, anything. He's racking his brain and looked for every sort of dish and recipes from all parts of Twisted Wonderland for the slight chance he comes across a dish to your absolute liking. But each time, you simply smiled graciously and thanked him for sharing with you, not that he disliked it since he did get to spend more time with you through all of this.
But each attempt makes him all the more impatient, and curious. If you looked this beautiful just eating something good, Jamil wondered how you’d look if he served you your most favored dish? Would he see your eyes light up with joy, your body shaking with excitement, your cheeks so cutely puffy and full with every bite, maybe even bring him into a spontaneous embrace filled with so much gratitude, perhaps even a kiss…
“I’m getting ahead of myself.” Jamil hid his face in embarrassment, but the burning ears and racing heart revealed how much he wanted to see that side of you.
You found it odd how often it’s been that Jamil was offering you leftover food this past week. You’re certainly not complaining but it’s always something new everyday. Sometimes Jamil would hand you a meal mixed with aromatic spices, other times an array of sugary sweet treats and pastries. It could be a simple stew that warms your soul one day, or it could be a unique cuisine with a variety of paired side dishes.
But every day, you would notice that he would glance your way occasionally as you partake in this gracious meal, and it’s making you a bit antsy.
“You’ve been watching me for a while.” Your voice seemed to break whatever concentration the Scarabia student had. “Is there something you’re expecting me to say?”
Like a deer in headlights, Jamil flinched and felt a small wave of embarrassment when he realized he was caught watching you. He was sure that he was being discrete, but he supposed that as days went on he had gotten a tad bit restless and hasty. He got sloppy, he cursed to himself.
Quickly shaking his nerves away, he replied with a smile to ease you. “I’m simply glad the food is to your taste.”
You were hardly convinced by that. Was he experimenting with dishes, you wondered. You tried to offer some insights and compliments which seemed to satisfy the long-haired upperclassman, but you felt a sneaky suspicion that he was hoping for something else.
“Jamil, I’m really happy that you’ve been sharing all this food with me.” You said as you settled the lunchbox to your side. “But I don’t think I’m the best person if you're looking for a detailed review on food.”
Ah yes, Jamil was aware of your generous palate. While trying to discreetly find your preferences, Jamil first assumed you had a sweet tooth when you praised the Heartslabyul vice-housewarden for his sweets. But then, Jamil overheard you enjoying your visits to Mostro Lounge so perhaps you had a pension for seafood…Then, he was thrown for a loop when he heard from a giddy Lilia that he was delighted to see you have such a rigorous appetite, having tried and finished the beef-seafood-fruit stew he made for his dormmates.
You...were not picky, to say the least.
You felt a pang of shame for your lack of refined judgment in cuisine. “Your food is really good. Sorry, I don't know what else I can say about it that is helpful to you.”
That’s it. Jamil saw an opening. “Perhaps, I could make your favorite food,” his voice sounded as though it was a spontaneous thought. “Then it would be something you can speak more on a personal level.”
All other attempts to learn your food preferences failed in the past, but now there was an opportunity to learn firsthand from the source. It wasn’t strange, was it? It was simply the flow of the conversation, and all the long-haired upperclassman did was offer an option. What an auspicious break for Jamil.
But when Jamil looked to you to gauge your reaction, you surprised him.
You stared at him, eyes wide with shock. Your lips quivered and shook, as though your body was nervously processing his words, which deeply worried Jamil. Has he somehow offended you? How?!
Finally, you spoke. “You would make something…just for me?”
“Yes, if that’s something alright with you?”
All this time, you were under the impression that Jamil was offering you food that couldn’t be finished, and you were content with taking whatever was offered, happy that the vice-housewarden thought of you in some way. But having Jamil make something homemade purposely with you in mind… to think of you as he makes the effort to do something, hoping you will enjoy it. A sweet gesture made for you, and you alone.
Feelings of butterflies filled you as your cheeks felt hot at such thoughts. You felt your lips quiver as a goofy smile crept its way onto your face, but you tried to hide your giddiness behind your fingers.
You thought for a bit, then softly you replied. “Curry would be nice.”
Hmm? Jamil was surprised. That’s his favorite…
“Then, we can eat together.” You smiled nervously. “I think sharing with someone you like makes food taste better.”
Such a lovely sight of two shy fools. One was grinning oddly while the other was hiding his shamefully burning face behind his hood.
#this was a toughie#I had no idea where this was gonna take me#twisted wonderland#twst#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#jamil viper#jamil x reader#jamil viper x reader#2.7k followers event
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a stupid bet
gn!reader x Dr. Ratio
part two here
warnings: suggestive themes, kissing, cursing (?)
word count: 10k~
a/n: I don't know which demon possessed me to write a 10k fic about a character that isn't playable yet, istg I need help (the worst thing is I could've written even more, send help + if he is ooc mb he isn't out yet), not beta read (we die like Cocolia), Kavetham's son has me in a chokehold
description: you accept to do a bet to lighten up Dr. Ratio, one of your work colleagues and also a rival, you're not too fond of each other. things take a sharp turn when you do something quite haste to win the bet (could come off as a slower burn fic, rivals to something more?)
It was a bet. Your coworkers were certain no one could do, especially not you but now it fell onto you. To lighten him up.
Rivals of years, you and Veritas Ratio disliked each other for a long time. For some dumb reason, you were stern on doing this bet, the group of them and you stood to the side and you observed him, the way he stood next to his desk with a neutral expression on his face. Knowing your usual relationship, you were doomed to fail so your mind went to at least making him surprised. That should count to something, right?
It is past saving when you walk towards him. "Thought you could help me a bit."
He sighs, already annoyed at you. "What is it?"
Rather clumsily you point to his cheek, no idea what you should do.
He looked at his cheek, then back to you. Your pointing and leaning made him even more annoyed than he already was — he found it amusing that this was your idea of humor.
"Ah, the other one" You try to save yourself
Another sigh. Another glance. There was nothing on the other one either.
"You can't see it-" You mention.
He squints his eyes at you. He doesn't have time for your games. "Why don't you tell me what I'm supposed to see then."
"A crumb," you say simply. "Shall I?" Digging your grave deeper.
He raises a brow. He knew you had a big ego, but he was honestly surprised you really thought he would fall for this. “Sure, go ahead.”
In hopes this would at least catch him off guard, you reach with your hand to move the imaginary crumb, your fingers caressing his cheek and then pulling him in for a kiss.
His eyes widen, surprised, his heartbeat quickening, while he finds you irritating... he also finds you attractive. for some reason.. the kiss continues for a bit, his breath coming out in short gasps. you weren't expecting it to work.
Now you pull back, he is stunned, maybe a tad less irritated at you. You two stare at each other for a moment. The only noise is your heavy breathing, and something is cooking below the surface.
He stares at you for a bit longer, breath coming out in short gasps, as he processes what happened. Then he breaks the stare, his eyes scanning the area — some of your coworkers were watching, and probably laughing. But he didn’t care. At least... he didn’t want to care. He wanted to focus on you. Your eyes met his again, and you could see the blush still present on his cheeks, the warm look in his eyes.
You feel confused in this moment, what are these... feelings... you mentally shrug them off. "uhm... I gotta go-" You walk over to the co-workers to see if this counts as winning the bet. As you turned to walk over to the observing co-workers, you could sense that his eyes were still watching you.
The acquaintances agreed that you won the bet. But found your way of achieving that interesting, especially since you two dislike each other. They leave and, the space is empty when you return to reading some papers.
After you’ve left, he spends a few moments pondering the event, and then, in an impulsive decision, he decides he wants to find you again. It wasn’t just the bet that he became, later on, aware of, or his wounded ego, that had him wanting to seek you out; he was intrigued by this newfound interaction. He wants to see where it leads.
He finds you sitting at a table. When you notice him approaching, you can feel the gaze of your coworkers. As he reaches you, you can feel their eyes still on you; there are some giggles and laughs in the background. When he speaks, his voice is a tad low. He also appears to be a bit timid, which isn’t the usual for him: “..May I join you?”
"What is it, Veritas?" Your voice was cold, and you look up at him.
He swallows, then glances at some of your co-workers. “I…” Your coworkers are still observing you with curiosity, so he lowers his voice while not looking at them. “... want to talk. To you.”
"We are talking," you say back, your gaze on the papers in your hands. You're dismissive towards him.
He hesitates but pushes on with his request, still keeping his voice low. “.. I want to talk to you in private.”
"Do we have anything to talk about?" you scoff, deeply ignoring the way it felt to kiss him. Chasing those thoughts away. You could see his face change to a microexpression you just about missed as he realized you hadn’t yet picked up on what he hoped for.
“You and I, we..” He hesitates to continue. You’d always been so formal, or irritating, with him. "we.. don’t get along.. usually.”
"We don't. So, leave? Why would we go talk in private?" you say. You knew this was about the bet. This was about the kiss - you chase those thoughts away, no. You will not think about not even for a second how soft- no. Stop. You return to reality. He is talking.
A moment of his hesitation. He lets out a small sigh before speaking again. “...We don’t get along, that’s correct. But..” He gestures to the observers and the whispers and giggles you can still hear in the background.
“...I think we should still talk privately.”
You sigh as well, rolling your eyes, finding his persistent attitude annoying. You stand up from your desk. "Lead the way, Doctor Ratio."
He smiles a bit at your response, and you can feel some hint of amusement.
He turns to lead you away from the others, turning a corner. Just as you begin to turn the corner you hear the observing coworkers make another comment; a girl says something about shipping.
"Private enough"? You ask after walking for a bit, looking around the empty hallway. it isn't a busy one usually.
He stops walking as you do, then looks at you for a moment. Your sarcasm is amusing him. He smiles at you, thinking of what to say. Then he begins to speak, and his facial expression is more relaxed than normal. “...I want to ask you something.”
"Ask." You sigh "What is it, Veritas?"
You could notice your words and attitude irking him, but, surprisingly, you could see him actually relaxing more as he spoke, a smile still plastered on his face. “...What is it that makes us dislike each other so much?”
You quickly answer. "We are both full of ourselves, intelligent, arrogant, and have zero patience for idiots. Is this why you wanted to talk in private- you're wasting my time, Veritas"
That response got a chuckle out of him, and you could tell he agreed with you, based on the way he nodded. A silence falls between you two, and then the silence is broken by him.. “...Have you ever wondered, as much as we are alike... how much we’re also different?” What a nonsensical question.
You are tired of him beating around the bush, so you decide to bring it up. "If this is about the bet- just- you're wasting my time"
Your dismissive attitude made him chuckle as you spoke. He thought about your statement. While the bet was an excuse to talk to you again, he had genuine thoughts in mind. Although, he didn’t let it show. “... It’s not about the bet. I just wanted to talk..”
"Why?"
You could sense the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice, but otherwise, his expression was relaxed and casual. He says, “... Because I want to get to know you.”
You feel stunned, "...why?" Finding it strange he'd want anything to do with you.
That was the reaction he wanted. Your eyes were wide open, and you were surprised. He kept staring at you. He was aware of how ridiculous this might sound, but he meant it. He wants to know you. He found you irritating, yes, but there was something about you he wanted to explore more.
You shook your head gently, confused. "Veritas- what? Is this because of the-"
He sighs. “..The kiss? No. Yes, it made me think of you differently. But not in the way you seem to think.” He keeps his gaze on you. “The kiss made me realize I want to know you.”
"Why- what do you mean-" you stumbled over your sentences, unlike him. "Veritas- it is obvious you kissed back, no reason to" small exhale, since you were talking too fast "get to know me"
A small smirk appeared at the corners of his lips. “I kissed back, it’s true. But let me ask you something...”
He stares at you for a moment. "What did you feel when we kissed?"
You deadpan. "My emotions aren't your business.“ then you straight up lie. „-only hoping to win the bet.“-
He can’t help but chuckle. You lied, and he knew it; he could just tell from the way you spoke.
He keeps looking at you, the smile still present on his face.
“Do you think I believe it? I doubt you felt nothing while we kissed.”
„Doubt all you freaking want, Veritas“ you roll your eyes, „you can't prove shit“
He looks at you still, grinning now. You can see the amusement in his eyes, and the way he is staring, as if he’s seeing you for the very first time. “You’re right. I can’t prove you felt anything. All I have is my intuition. And my intuition says that you’re lying."
"You can't prove it." you cross your arms across your chest. "Stop these accusations and your 'intuition' is wrong." You sound arrogant, and dismissive, trying to wiggle your way out of the conversation.
He chuckles once more, then he speaks, a bit more directly this time. “My intuition has never done me wrong. You can keep on denying it, acting arrogant—and that’s fine. But I bet you anything that, if I were to kiss you again, a second time, you would kiss me back. Just as passionately as the first time."
"You were the one to kiss passionately the first and only time we kissed." you shake your head "Veritas this is a waste of time- you want to 'get to know' me, oh please" gesturing with your hand.
Even as you speak, he is still laughing. He could tell your pride is wounded.
He keeps a straight, smug face. His words carry no arrogance, but the way he speaks has enough confidence for both of you. “...Then let me prove it to you. Just let me kiss you again.”
You are quiet for a moment too long because you are surprised at his suggestion, and refuse to think again about- "no."
He knows he’s caught you off guard. Your silence is an answer itself. One that just gives him more confidence. He smirks.
„...Afraid?”
„I am a scientist like you, I am not afraid. I kissed you in the first hand. I don't need to prove anything“
He chuckles. “You’re absolutely right, you don’t need to prove anything. Except you kissed me for the sake of a bet. But I kissed you for the sake of understanding you.” He’s still smirking he is planning something, but he keeps his gaze on you. “..And I bet the kiss meant more for you than you care to admit.” There's a knowing look in his eyes.
"You didn't kiss me, why are you talking in the past tense?" you scoff when he attempts to change the situation around.
He raises his brow, slightly impressed, and shrugs. “..Alright, you’re right. Let me change that.”
Without breaking eye contact, he reaches out and pulls your face toward his. You could feel his warm breath on your face as he stared at you for a second or two, and just when it felt as though he would actually kiss you again. Completely surprised you gasp at the sudden proximity.
You can tell he’s enjoying the moment, since he leans in just a tad more, just enough for your lips to almost touch; his breath is hot and heavy, and his eyes still keep locking with yours as he waits.
It takes you a moment to place your hands on his chest and push him away. "Veritas, stop these foolish actions." You feel flustered at his advances.
He lets out an amused chuckle and steps slightly away. Though he has stopped his action, he is still smiling—which he knows is annoying for you to see. He still has a smirk and speaks. “..Do you think this was foolish of me?” There's something calculated in his voice.
"You won't prove anything and the one and only kiss that happened happened cos of the bet. Nothing more"
He keeps his smirk. “..Then how do you explain the chemistry between us? It’s all there, whether you’d like to admit it or not.” The neverending banter between the two scientists continues, both two proud to be that vulnerable with the other or to even take the other seriously.
"Screw chemistry. We dislike each other. And you pulled me away from my work to chat privately 'cos you wish to get to know me better? And now you wanna prove to me that I'm wrong by wanting to kiss me again? waste of my time-" you puff, you didn't even get a chance to think about the kiss today, and this isn't the moment to think about that. You can see the smirk fall for a second when you begin speaking, but then he smiles again. There is clearly something you aren't telling him.
He listens to your rant, and it only furthers his conviction. “..I agree, we do dislike each other. But that doesn't mean there can't be anything else. There are layers to dislike, and to liking someone.” He pauses. “..I want to see those layers.”
You roll your eyes „What I felt during the kiss is hope to win the bet that's it.“
He chuckles and speaks right away. “...Fine, I'll pretend to believe you, and not the way your face flushes as you speak. I'll pretend I don't feel the tension between us. And, I'll pretend that I don't want to kiss you again.” He takes a step forward and leans in again. “..And if you’re sure you didn't feel anything, then you shouldn’t care if I kiss you again. Because then, there's nothing to hide, right?”
"Well- no- maybe I don't want to be touched or something" you sigh, your brain just now processing the information. "you want to kiss me again?" the soft blush creeps up your cheeks. He wants to kiss you again? You don't know what to think, or feel about that, and this isn't the time to process that either.
His smirk grew as you spoke. “Or, maybe you don’t want to be touched because you’ll feel something. If there’s nothing to hide, then there’s nothing to refuse. Just let me kiss you once more, just to prove that you’re lying to me.”
„I'm not lying.“ You crossed your arms.
He smirks once more, and a hint of satisfaction crosses his face.
“Then let me kiss you. Why refuse, if you believe that all it was is only a bet? I want to kiss you to prove you are lying about not caring about the kiss. I want to kiss you to prove you are lying when you claim to have felt nothing, that it didn't feel good. So it isn’t about winning, isn’t it..? It’s about you being embarrassed at how much the kiss felt good to you.”
„Why are you so needy about wanting to kiss me- we dislike each other-„ you hush your voice as a coworker passes by, you two were still standing in the hallway. „-and no point for me to kiss you to prove a point. I'm above that.“
He follows your movement and lowers his voice to match yours. “...The reason I’m so adamant about wanting this kiss, is because I think we’ll have a revelation. I know we dislike each other, but..” He pauses for a moment. “...But there’s more to us than that. So come on, if you don’t have anything to hide, kiss me again. No one else is watching.”
„No“ you stand your ground „I don't need to prove it, Veritas“ Your pride wouldn't let you do anything less than stand your ground.
He chuckles at your stubbornness. “...I have to give you credit for that, it’s admirable. But I’ll keep on trying until it works.” Still keeping his voice low, he speaks once more. “...Kiss me. Please.”
He sees your stern gaze falter when he asks so blatantly and also says please.
„My emotions during what I did for the bet are none of your business-„ Your voice getting hushed as another coworker passes by „-Veritas.“
He takes that small sign of weakness and uses it as an advantage, leaning towards you a bit. His breath is still hot on your face, and you can see his smirk grow wider. He speaks, with an amused, almost teasing tone of voice. “..Are you refusing to kiss me so adamantly because you might actually enjoy it? Because you have emotions you don’t want me to know about?”
You sigh. „Veritas- cmon, this is pointless at this point.“
He keeps leaning closer to you, and he speaks while still teasing you. “..Well, you keep denying everything I said about you. You keep insisting that you only kissed me for the bet. So then, prove it and kiss me again—and feel nothing. Prove it right now.”
„I'm tired of this, Veritas.“ you sigh. Even in your apparent exhaustion, he feels the tension in your voice, the small crackle of doubt and curiosity in your words. Again, he speaks as he keeps leaning in, his breath still hot on your face.
“...Just one more kiss. To prove you're telling the truth. Then nothing else.”
„To shut you up, fine“ When your lips meet, you are doing your best to not move them in the beginning, to not touch him, and to stay fully still.
And you do, at first, stay fully still. Your lips are warm, and you can feel him leaning in more and more, but you refuse to do anything in return.
After some time, however, you feel a shift. With his movements, he’s now coaxing you. He pulls you towards him a bit more, his breath is still warm, and he’s now kissing you, softly but passionately, as he wants you to kiss back... He notices how you aren't budging putting on a good performance of not feeling anything. He wants to see more of a response, and he begins to nudge you to see how you would react. He places his hands on either side of your face and continues the kiss. He wants to see you lose control, instead of being this disciplined. He wants you to feel passion.
His hands actually touching your face almost makes you lose your focus, but not quite. He can feel you start to crack under pressure. It’s almost cute to watch you struggle. He decides to test his theory; he begins pulling you against himself, your bodies now pressed against each other. One arm wraps around your waist.
When you feel him pull you closer the focus breaks, your lips depart and you return the kiss, the kiss itself turning longer. Not even caring when a coworker passes by, your eyes are closed.
He can feel you responding to him finally, instead of trying to prove a point. Your eyes are closed, you’re no longer trying to hold back. His fingers trace your cheek as he keeps pulling you even closer so that your bodies are now up against each other.
Your back against a wall and he pressed against you, your hand traveling up to rest on his chest as the kiss kept going, turning more passionate
You can feel him press himself against you, and he wraps his other arm around your back; both his arms are now on you. He is taking charge and is leading the kiss. His fingers move from your cheek to your hair, as he pulls on it, and keeps the passion steady. His hands, your lips, his body pressed against your back... Everything feels so close and so warm... It’s as though no one or anything else exists except for you two.
And it feels good.. the kiss feels good for the both of you, each touch, you both feel the slow burn in your lungs for air, but keep kissing.
It feels extremely good. To feel your lips against his, to feel the heat and passion that keeps growing. Your arms around him, his arms around you. The feeling of your warm body against his body. The slow burn in your lungs, yet wanting more and more... The only sound that continues to play is just the sound of you both slowly breathing together, as your lips continue to lock together. Each touch brings in more and more passion...
You pull away, leaning his head against a wall to breathe. Your lips are swollen slightly as you breathe heavily.
Veritas pulls away as well and leans back from the kiss with a smirk. His lips were also plump, and swollen. Your breathing is heavy and quick, and he can see that your cheeks are slightly red. He seems slightly pleased and looks at you with that same teasing, smug smile.
„Proves nothing“ you deny it immediately.
His chuckle grows louder. “..You really hate admitting you enjoyed it, don't you? Even now, even after the long kiss. So much denial. So many excuses.”
„Tsk, you proved nothing. I'm just a good kisser that's all“
He laughs at your continued denial. “..You sound like a child now. Good kisser, who are you trying to fool? I saw your breathing and your expressions. I felt you getting more and more into it until the kiss became passionate. You’re denying the truth now just because you don't want to admit it.”
„There's nothing to admit except that we dislike each other, Veritas.“
“If there’s nothing to admit then there's no problem if I kiss you one more time, right?” He begins to lean in towards you and raises his brows as he waits for a response.
„What for?“ you protest, but the protest is much smaller than when he wanted to kiss you the last time. You can see his amused smirk form again, but he keeps his demeanor calm as he replies.
“..For the last time. To really get proof from you that the kiss meant nothing. A long, slow kiss, where you can’t deny anything. Surely you won’t say no to another kiss from a good kisser like me, now will you?”
„You have your proof, Veritas!“ He whispers it loudly as someone passes by.
His smirk grows wider, and he leans even closer this time. You can see the amusement in his eyes as he speaks in the same tone as you. “...There’s obviously still something missing. If you’re going to insist that the kiss meant nothing and that you have nothing to prove, then you must have no problem if I give you one last kiss.”
„You got enough of my lips today.“ You raise your chin, shaking your head gently. He really did… get to kiss you a lot today.
He chuckles at this, and even though he has heard it before, his smile grows wide. The more playful you get in your protests, the more confident he gets in his stance. “Just another one won’t hurt then, right? I mean, after all... you’re the supposed ‘good kisser’ here. And I believe that you’re good enough to kiss me in a way that makes me realize that the kiss meant nothing to you, correct?”
You sigh. „You aren't letting this go?“
He laughs at your sigh. “...Just another kiss to shut me up, that’s all. Come on, it should be easy then. Unless you’re afraid of what might happen?” He leans closer and raises an eyebrow.
„Fine. One last to prove you wrong again. How do you want it this time?“ You question him, annoyed at first sight, sighing.
“..Same as last time. Slow and passionate, with you completely giving in to your feelings. But just one more request this time. Make it longer... I want this kiss to last a little longer than the last one.”
„The last one was too long, and passionate. Why would I repeat it?“
He chuckles and replies, his voice now teasing. “...Do it how I want this time. Make me believe that the last 10 minutes or so was nothing but a game. Prove to me that you’re just a good kisser. Prove it by giving in to me and my kiss. I want to feel all your emotions. I want to make you lose control. So do exactly what I say.”
„I am just a good kisser“ you sigh „Fine, c'mere“ you gesture to him, as you are still leaning on the wall, to come to kiss you.
Veritas seems amused by your continued protest, and his smile grows. But he does do as you say; he begins to close the distance between the two of you until your bodies are once again pressed against each other. You can see the smug smile on his face, knowing he has gained the upper hand in this 'game’. He begins to kiss you, as you requested, and he pulls you into him with his hands on your waist, letting the kiss last longer...
You again try to hold back for a moment, but his hands on your waist relax you... you kiss back.
Veritas feels you relax, and he continues the kiss, using his hands on your waist to pull you even closer to him. His fingers trail up and down your back, and he is now fully embracing you in his lips. He is taking a deep breath in now, as he keeps kissing you. You can feel the heat of your bodies pressed against each other, and feel each of the sighs from your both. This kiss seems like it will never end, and this 'game' is now in another league entirely.
You enjoy the kiss, the soft caressing of his fingers on your body. Your hands go up his torso to hold onto your shirt, one hand moving higher to tangle in his hair.
Your touch causes him to feel something even deeper within himself, something that he hasn't felt in a long time. His passion starts growing more intense the longer the kiss goes, and he can feel you letting yourself go. The heat from your body is so intense, and the scent of his cologne combined with your scent is intoxicating. Your fingers running through his dark blue hair are sending shivers down his spine, and the embrace of his hands around your waist is like a safe shelter around you.
Then you both get lost in the kiss, with no thoughts, or rivalry or who is passing by, just each other's touch and lips. Other thoughts quickly vanish from your mind, and all you can focus on is this kiss. Your bodies are pressed tightly against each other, the heat growing hotter as time goes on. Nothing is more important right now; there's just both of your lips and the two of your bodies. Nothing else exists right now. It feels like the kiss will never end, and it feels so right. The passion is undeniable and unrelenting.
In a moment you separate to breathe, technically where the kiss should've ended, just before he puts his lips on yours again you exhale and whisper his name „Veritas...“ And meet his lips as he kisses you once more.
Your whisper sends a shiver down his spine, and he pulls you closer once more. At this moment, his name is enough. The way you said it so softly, almost in a whisper, is enough.
It doesn't even register to you that your lips separated and started another, until you hear a group of people, about to turn your corner, who are talking. You pull your lips away, leaning away from him, your head leaning onto a wall, and moving your hands off of him.
It makes you realize just where the two of you are standing. Veritas looks down, slightly embarrassed but you can see the faintest of smiles on his lips. His fingers brush your cheek as you both break the embrace. The lingering scent of his cologne is still heavy in the air, and you can feel the heat of the hug still lingering on your body. You can feel his breath against your cheek.
People pass by, and you don't say anything.
Once you both seem to fully realize the gravity of what just happened, the reality of your situation kicks in. It was an innocent but long kiss, made only longer when you had both decided to keep the whole thing going. The voices of people are louder now, and the two of you are both still breathing heavily and still hot from the heat of the long kiss. The moment is now over, though the scent of his cologne and the lingering taste of the kiss still lingers.
You are preparing yourself for your accusations of lying and that it wasn't just you being a good kisser, you curse yourself for mumbling his name earlier.
There is a moment of silence between the two of you. The noise of people passing by gets ever louder, but it still seems faint to you. The scent of his cologne is still lingering in the air, filling your lungs and your mind. You can feel the breath of his voice against your cheek, as you still feel every inch of the touch from his body that you just experienced.
He looks into your eyes, and for a moment, the silence, the smell of his cologne, and the taste of his kiss are all so intoxicating that it's almost like nothing else exists. Your lips are slightly swollen from his kiss, and there are still some traces of his saliva mixed into your lips.
„Veritas...“ you start, attempting to make up another excuse
He looks at you with a teasing and playful look on his lips. From the expression on his face and the way he's staring at you, it's like he knows he's cornered you now. He smiles at you, and a small twinkles in his eyes. He can't help but chuckle. His look is now mixed with amusement as well because he knows your pride will stop you from admitting anything. He raises one of his eyebrows and waits for you to continue.
When he doesn't interrupt you, like you hoped he would, and then he even smirks and raises an eyebrow...you know you are defeated, you can't make a truthful excuse, caught red-handed… you turn away from him, lightly hitting the wall with your hand and resting your head against it and he can hear you mumble a quiet „... shit“
Veritas’s smirk grows wider as he looks at the defeated look on your face. You still refuse to actually speak, and he can’t help but feel amused at the realization that your pride is completely keeping you from admitting what is obvious. He knows that all he has to do now is let the silence set in. The silence in itself and your attitude towards him makes it obvious.
You turn back around and face him again, and the exact moment you meet his eyes you look elsewhere.
He laughs quietly as he stares at you. Your blush is bright, and your face is slightly red, which is why the first thing you do after turning back around is to avoid eye contact. He can't help but smirk at this, and he can't stop himself from speaking. "Can't look at me anymore, can you? Am I that captivating?"
„You're like… average“ you scoff, not looking at him still. Which almost makes you laugh but you manage to hold it in, the lie too obvious as you say it aloud.
He scoffs, not able to hide his amusement. He knows damn well he's not average. He can see that you know he's not 'average' as well. "You want me to take that as a way of you finally admitting that you let yourself enjoy that kiss? Or is this still some desperate attempt to play it off as nothing?"
„Veritas please stop this torture.“ You complain.
He laughs softly for a moment and then sighs. There is a moment of silence again, as he stares at you. "I think I've made this painful enough. If you just admit the kiss meant something to you too, then the 'torture' will stop. Do you want that?"
You nod „Fine. It is rather obvious now.“
His whole demeanor shifts immediately. His mischievous grin that was playing on his lips immediately turned into a soft, genuine smile. He can see that the game has ended and that now he is talking to the real you, the one who let themselves get carried away with that kiss. He has a look of affection that he had been hiding behind the disguise of mockery.
You aren't meeting his gaze, arms crossed, lips swollen, cheeks blushed... and if someone were to come close enough they'd smell the two different scents… your perfume and his cologne.
He chuckles because he sees that you still can't quite meet his gaze just yet. He stares at your lips for a moment, thinking of that kiss and just how intense it all seemed. The scents of both your perfumes are still lingering in the air, and for a moment, you feel like you're still locked in that kiss.
„Fine. Fine. Fine.“ you sigh „Bet was the bet, nothing special, earlier today. I- then- just- didn't expect you to kiss back. I didn't feel anything special.“ And yet later on now... you have kissed three more times.
He laughs softly, knowing exactly how wrong your entire statement was. Both of you know it. It's obvious that you actually cared enough to play this 'game' with him, and you felt enough to get lost in that kiss. He can spot the hesitation in your eyes, the way you avoided your gaze, and the stutter in your words. But he still can't help but tease you. "Is that right? If you felt nothing special, then why did you let it go on for so much longer than it had to? And why the second kiss? And... the third one?"
„No, I meant the bet… was nothing special. Well.. mostly“ Your honesty is a double-edged sword.
That answer alone tells him everything that he needs to know. "Mostly? And what was the rest of it then? Were the other kisses something special for you? Or are you just gonna say they were just you being a good kisser?" He scoffs quietly.
„The bet one... I didn't expect you to kiss back- I kissed you just cos of the bet- to "lighten" you up, and then you returned the kiss.. and that was... surprising.. and then you wanted to chat in private and requested kisses to prove a point.“
He sighs silently, hearing your explanation. He can feel that your words are just excuses, that the kisses still mean more to you than you let on. The more you say, the more he smiles. It's clear that you actually want to continue this flirtation, even if you might not want to admit it. "Is that so? Because it seemed as if it meant something even during our bet... and the whole conversation we had in private. It all meant something to you, didn't it?"
„I think it was obvious I'm too deep in to make excuses after the last one- remember I turned around, punched the wall- I had nothing to say- why are you pushing this?“
A soft smile spreads across his face, and he chuckles. He can see that this flirtatious exchange has gone far beyond a simple game of proving a point. There's something about you that simply has pulled him in completely, something that he just cannot help but tease and flirt with. He's now just enjoying it and enjoying you as well. "I'm pushing this because I want to see you admit more about your feelings. And... I like teasing and flirting with you. Because it feels so damn good just being around you."
„Since when do you feel good being around me? We dislike each other. I...“ Your words are honest, „I don't know why it felt so good..“
He laughs softly, amused again that you refuse to actually see what you're feeling now. "We dislike each other, huh? So that was what our conversation was then... A long, intimate debate about how much we dislike each other. And that whole kiss, just a simple game of me teasing you. And this too."
His soft laugh is filled with a teasing tone, as he begins to lean closer and brush his nose against yours.
You sigh „Veritas... it appears to be... complicated“
He hums, as he leans in closer. His words are softer now, as he speaks with that same teasing, playful voice. "Complicated, huh? How complicated? Are you starting to admit to yourself that you feel something between us?"
„I can admit. But I do not know what it is, I only found out today and so did you, unless you're hiding something from me?“ You speak quietly.
Your quietness only sparks him even more, as he continues to stay just a few inches away from your lips and your face. He looks at you with that mischievous smirk on his face, as he can sense your confusion. "So does that mean the kisses were not just meaningless flirts then? Because from my perspective, you seemed to be enjoying it a lot. I'm not hiding anything. Also realized today."
„You enjoyed them too.“ You softly say.
His smirk grows wider; he can't help but love the teasing moments like this. Both of them enjoy these little flirts, but neither wants to be the first to just admit their feelings. "You... you're right. I enjoyed the hell out of every kiss. It was intense, it was passionate... and I couldn't help but get completely lost in it."
You look into the distance recalling the way it all felt... You zone out for a couple of moments.
He hums, sensing that the two of you are now getting more serious. Neither of you can deny the chemistry between you both, and that has only grown the more the two of you have kissed. He can see how much your thoughts are wandering now, and he loves that he has you this speechless, filled with so much emotion, and yet so clueless about how you're feeling. This is the most vulnerable that you have looked at so far, and he wants to keep it that way...
He moves closer now, getting just inches away from your face. He can smell your cologne and the air that is filled with both of your scents. The air feels so heavy and so full of emotions, where every inch of you feels so close in his presence. His voice is soft, and he begins to speak softly, almost in a whisper. "If you truly do want us to end this little game of back and forth... then you can just admit it now. Say the words, just say how these kisses meant something to you."
„I already did, Veritas“ you sigh.
His smirk grows and he nods his head, his eyes still staring right at you. The silence at that moment makes the feeling all the more intense, and even just being so close to one another felt so intoxicating. The quietness of his words had you feeling nervous, feeling excited all over again, and yet even that moment felt so real and...so honest. "I know you've been hinting at it....“
„The kiss felt good, you felt good.“
"Good? You felt good, I felt good... but is that it? Is that just the full story? Because I have a feeling that there's more."
You roll your eyes „Veritas Ratio, I won't repeat myself.“
The teasing moments that had made him feel so intoxicated earlier have suddenly turned into something else... something deeper. It felt as if the two of them were not playing games but expressing their honesty. He leans even closer now, as close as he can possibly get without actually touching your lips. "How about a deal, then? I will stop pushing you to admit how you've felt... if you say one more thing that you haven't said yet."
You meet his eyes „What is it?“
He lets the silence settle and linger for a moment, as he stares at you with that same, mischievous grin on his face. He can sense that this is finally getting far more serious, and that has his attention completely drawn in. He leans in even closer until he is practically touching your lips with his own, he's so close. "Tell me what made you enjoy every single one of our kisses... and just how much you actually have enjoyed me."
„Those are stupid questions, Veritas“ you scoff quietly due to close proximity. He is just trying to tease at this point.
He chuckles softly at the scoff, his eyes narrowing, but still holding that same mischievous grin on his lips. The proximity feels intense, the closeness of their faces, the heat coming from either of them, the two of them being so close that their bodies are almost touching. "But I don't think they're stupid at all. I don't think they're stupid because I want to hear each word from your lips, each and every reason as to why you've liked our kisses so far."
„How about you talk a bit about why you wanted to kiss me and your assumed feelings?“
His smirk grows wider, and a soft laugh exits his lips. You can sense the amusement in him still, but he also takes another look at you. He sighs and nods, and he looks away from you and speaks truthfully. "Why did I want to kiss you? Why did I enjoy them? The same reason as you, I think. Which is... because my emotions have been completely tied up around you. I want that closeness, I want that intimacy. That was the whole reason why I even continued flirting with you..."
You sigh, seemingly lost in thought, but if he asked you to look at him, he'd also see that you are smitten. Seeing that you are lost in thought, he doesn't say a word. You can see the expression of amusement on his face slowly fading, and being replaced with a more affectionate look and expression. He seems to sense the truth in your thoughts and the way your words have suddenly become more honest. You feel like if you asked him to look at you, the same expression of endearment would fill his eyes.
The kisses make your confused feelings bare, naked, vulnerable in front of him. You for some reason like him. And now you wait as to what he will do.
It's as if this unspoken understanding has been fully created between you both. You both seem to sense how deep these moments have become for one another, and it doesn't even need verbal words for you two to sense just how much these kisses really mean to you both. For the first time, you have fully revealed your emotions to one another.
All he can do is sigh, and he begins to speak softly again, the tease of a flirt just completely replaced by that of a heartfelt, affectionate moment. "It's true that these kisses felt good because I felt like I could finally express my emotions toward you. These kisses felt good because the whole reason I've been flirting with you is that... I've felt...this deep connection with you that I can't explain. This connection, I've wanted it to be more... I've wanted to be closer with you. And... all these kisses just felt so good because... because I've just wanted nothing but to be with you. Well, I only realized it recently."
„I'm surprised that we discovered this... after disliking each other for years up until this day.“
"We've finally discovered it, and I'm not surprised that neither one of us has admitted it earlier today. We've always been so stuck in this game of hatred that we've missed out on...something amazing. I guess you could say that we've played this game too long, and so it took a few kisses to finally start seeing just how wrong we both were."
You nod „Gods-„ you put your head into your hands „The rumors will be awful“ You remember hearing footsteps during the last kiss.
He sighs softly, as he places his hands onto the back of your head and gently begins to brush your hair with his fingers. It was true that the rumors were something you two would have to face, he felt like it would somehow be worth it. "Do you think we should really care about the rumors though? There's always going to be rumors, and this is one that you and I know is true. So, let them talk, but let us focus on what is really important."
You look up at him „Veritas...“
He grins softly, as he sees that your gaze has now met his. He feels so happy as if he can finally be honest with you at this moment. The rumors may spread, but you feel as if that would be a small price to pay for what it would be worth. "Yes?"
You just sigh softly.
He hums, as his hand begins to brush your chin, which leads him to gently stroke your cheek. The way you sighed so softly made him feel so...so warm and happy. You both were finally seeing the full truth of your feelings, and it felt as if everything bad in the world was melting away.
„We gotta go back to work...“ As your words break the silence of that tender moment, his smile fades away, and he sighs. It was true that all this was happening during working hours, and the both of you had been gone for a while already. "You're right, isn't it late already? We've been gone for too long..."
„Too long yes...“
He nods and pulls his hand away. "Yeah... we've both been gone too long. So, should we... should we go back before they notice?“
„Oh trust, they have noticed“
He chuckles softly, as he nods again. "Yeah, you're right about that. I'm just more surprised they hadn't come to check up on us yet."
„They wouldn't dare. They probably thought we were fighting… but the rumors will start soon.“
He nods. "They probably did. But you're right, rumors will definitely start spreading soon. I wonder what would they say about us though... about how far we went... about what we could have been doing in this hallway..."
You laugh „Ah yes“ in a mocking tone „Rumor spreads about Doctor Ratio and the lead researcher, long hated rivals seen making out in a hallway“
His smirk grows, as he chuckles softly, too. Your words seem hilarious, and yet they are also a bit...a bit too true. He can see that he would definitely not be surprised if this was suddenly the newest rumor around the office, with many, many different versions and details. "Lead researcher and hated rival found together... making out in a private room... for at least an hour. The rumors will probably even mention how long our kiss lasted, and just how much we wanted it to continue."
„Oh stop it“ you gesture as you two walk slowly back, just at the mention of the kiss you remember how good it felt.
He laughs softly and follows along, also remembering the kiss but feeling how it has made him more affectionate. He reaches his free hand over and rubs your shoulder, his touch feeling affectionate. "You know it's true. The way you feel, the way I feel, and the way they will now interpret what's going on. If I'm being honest."
You sigh „Probably “ you stop for a moment, closing your eyes in the memory of the kiss, his cologne taking you back.
He stops alongside you, as he smiles. He can't help but look at the way you have just closed your eyes as if you can picture the moments clearly and as if the kiss has become a core memory for you. He doesn't say a word, not even wanting to break that peaceful silence.
„Sorry-„ you open your eyes, realizing you stopped walking, giving him the perfect opportunity for him to also seize this moment and do it again. This time, he takes advantage of that moment, and he begins to lean in again cupping your cheek, his lips now almost touching yours. He holds his breath, his body beginning to lean towards you all on its own. He stops for just a moment, only a breath's distance away from your lips before he leans just a bit closer...
„Veritas-„ you speak his name.
Your words have become the trigger for this kiss, one that you will never forget and will always cherish. As he hears his name called, all those emotions inside of him suddenly begin to boil up. Your voice... the way you call his name has so much depth and feeling in it. The feeling of you saying his name is what sends him off the edge, as his mouth instantly meets yours...
You return it immediately, no longer pretending at the beginning of the kisses.
The two of you have finally let the kiss take over, as you return the passionate gesture in kind. Your kiss is no longer filled with the awkwardness or the tease of the flirt, it has become something passionate and almost...something more. Your voices may have spoken about how far you feel from one another, but the kiss you two had just shared speaks for itself, and it says so much more than words have ever could.
Your hand travels up to his hair pulling your lips closer.
He can't help but gasp as a loud moan escapes his lips, and the feeling of having his hair pulled fills him with even more energy. Your touch feels just the right amount of rough and soft, as he leans into that pull and meets your lips even further. That pull in his hair seems to have added just that little bit of spice to this passionate, energetic kiss.
You're surprised with his loud noise, and quickly swallow his moan with your lips, drowning the sound from anyone who may hear it.
The way you had instantly swallowed your moans had only brought him to moan even louder. This was more than just a simple kiss, this was an intense, passionate kiss. One that was completely out of control and only getting worse. It was exactly how this kiss should be, and he can't help but moan even louder in response, and he only pulls you in even closer now. You whine softly when he pulls you closer, you think how he will just get you both in trouble by being that loud. Truly a menace with the way he keeps making lewd noises.
He laughs quietly now, a soft and almost teasing laugh, as he pulls back for just a moment just to speak. "You know you like it when I pull you in this close. I can hear you whining, and it sounds so damn good."
„Did you have to moan- three times?“ you scold him, whispering.
He smirks at your scornful and seductive tone. "I mean...I could have just groaned once. That would have been enough for the effect, right?"
You stop your movements, your brain trying to imagine how his groaning would sound... you lean onto the wall behind you „Fuck... d- don't give my head ideas to imagine.“
He laughs at your reaction, a soft and teasing laugh once more. To you, he seems to have this way of making you feel both embarrassed and intrigued. This time is no different, as he leans just close enough so that he can whisper into your ear. "Don't worry my dear, now I have you picturing all sorts of things in your head..."
You whisper back „Fuck off“ And then you add „Don't you dare groan in my ear or I swear-„
He only laughs again, a bit more playfully this time. And then he whispers closely to your ear. "Just imagine me just groaning into your ear right now. It's almost as if I can hear your heart racing with that thought, it's so loud..."
„Veritas“ you warn „Don't you dare“ You feel like the energy and tension between you two is high now, and those types of noises would do some things to the both of you.
Instead of listening to your warning, he only leans in even further, to the point where he is whispering mere inches away from your ear. "Come on now, imagine the deep and sexy groan, the way my body almost presses into you. There's no denying this connection between us, dear..." The small nickname makes you smile.
You keep imagining, but you fear he'd actually groan on purpose which makes your knees weak. He senses your weakness, and so he whispers once more. "I could start to groan at any second now, and that thought alone probably makes you feel weak and weak in the knees. I bet that the thought of me just slowly groaning into your ear, sensually, makes your heart race with desire..."
You whisper back „Fuck off Veritas“ He is teasing at this point.
He laughs, and then he whispers back. "Why? You're thinking about it, aren't you? The thought of a deep, loud, sensual groan? The idea of it almost pushes you to your limits... to just let yourself become so overtaken by that feeling of desire..."
„I have to return to work you menace-„ you whisper.
"Oh, I see. You're back to just calling me names. I suppose that means I really am driving you crazy, am I?" He whispers, teasingly, as he then adds. "And what is it that will happen if I keep whispering things into your ear? Will you suddenly explode from too much desire? Or will you just be too embarrassed?"
„Veritas“ you warn sternly.
He sighs, as he finally leans away, back to his original distance from you. Instead of laughing back at you this time, he simply chuckles and gives a playful smirk. "Is that a warning? I didn't realize I had such an effect on you. Do I need to stop with my playful flirting, my dear?"
„We will see how you behave when I threaten you with such a noise- except you didn't actually make the noise“ Speaking normally now. And you're right… but maybe you should raise the stakes… play this game.
That sudden change to your volume has brought out a soft and teasing grin on his face. "Oh, so now you're going to threaten me with noises that you're going to make? I suppose then I'll have to threaten you on the sound of kisses. Because it is your lips that I keep on imagining, and it only makes my imagination run wild as I remember that sweet and sensual kiss..."
„Hm“ you tilt your head, smirking, then lean in to whisper „Imagine just us laying on the bed... wouldn't it be so nice the way I would moan your name, Veritas? wouldn't it sound so good?“ Then you actually moan into his ear just to tease him back and drive him insane.
He laughs softly as he feels the moan against his ear. He can feel some chills run down his spine, as his body begins to shiver a bit, too. It seemed this moan of yours...this moan that was now echoing in his ears...it was beginning to drive him absolutely insane. He was finding it easier and easier to picture the two of you lying on the bed together, and your moans suddenly felt all too real now.
You left him standing there with his thoughts, he seemed zoned out as you are now walking a tad further ahead.
He sighs as he begins to follow you as well. It seemed that the flirting was a bit too much to think about right now. However, he is curious about one thing.
"Just one question, my dear. How many kisses did we even share just now? How much time was dedicated to only kissing one another? We've kissed many times during the day, but this one...this one felt so real.“
You say simply. „5“
His eyes widen, as he listens to your answer. He's surprised to hear such a high number. There were indeed several kisses in their conversation, but did time seem to have really been that fast with each kiss? "Five kisses...wow. Really? I guess when two people who have such high intellect and intelligence, time does seem to pass us by too often, doesn't it?"
You are soon by your lab doors, slowing down your walking. Once you do arrive at the lab's door, he just stares silently at you for just a moment. He knows that there won't be another moment for flirting today, as work is soon back on the plan of action for both of you. And yet, he can't help but gaze at you for this last moment, this look is filled with affection, admiration, and even a small bit of desire.
„Staring is rude, Veritas~“ You smirk as he stares at you.
He simply chuckles, as he continues to stare even after you speak. "Staring at you... staring at you can never be rude. You are like a picture - a rare artwork that everyone should appreciate, look at, and examine. The only thing that is rude about staring is that I can't do it all the time. Your beauty should always be on full display for others to gaze at in awe."
You laugh softly „I'm more of a need-only-one-person-in-my-life type of person“
"I am not one to argue on that. Although I am curious to know what I am that makes you want only me. Is it my voice? My looks? My personality? Or something else that has kept you on a leash?" He smirks, his stare still not changing one bit.
„Go work, Veritas“ you smirk entering your lab, not answering to his assumption that you only want him. But it was a correct assumption. Refusing to also answer to his remark of being kept on a leash. You can only laugh to yourself at his words.
He smiles, and then he rolls his eyes, but there is no true annoyance behind this gesture. Instead, it's more humorous now. "Fine, I got work to do too. Just remember, you're not getting rid of me that easily." He then waves his hand back at you, before heading off to his own lab to finish his work.
#hsr#honkai star rail#star rail#dr ratio#doctor ratio#veritas ratio#hoyoverse#fluff#smut#dr ratio fluff#dr ratio smut#dr ratio fanfic#dr ratio oneshot#dr ratio writing#kavetham' son#haikaveh' son#veritas ratio oneshot#dr ratio x reader
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Sacrifice
Luke Castellan x female!reader
Percy Jackson & female!reader
Description: Set after Titan's Curse before BoL, you rendezvous to meet Percy before heading back to Luke and he contemplates the intensity of your love and sacrifice.
A/N: I read the books like 7 years ago so I'm not super duper canon compliant
Percy notices the grey in your hair first and a phantom pain rushes through him. It's more discolouration than either he, Annabeth or Luke has and it's striking.
It aged you so much and he wonders how long did you hold up the sky? Why did you hold up the sky?
But your fatal flaw had been self-sacrifice. You'd given yourself up before anything, before Luke would be forced to take Atlas' place.
And the sky lay on your shoulders for days before Luke realised that the plan was going slower than expected and he needed to give you some respite.
That's why he thought of Annabeth, that's why he took on the sky as a trap. And the only reason you didn't push her out of the way and take the burden was because you spent much of those days unconscious, drained.
Percy thought he should hate you.
But his own flaw was loyalty and for so long you were running interference, a buffer, to slow down Kronos' ambitions. And you were too devoted to Luke to leave him behind just yet.
Anyway, your decision to play double agent was riskier still and here you were. Sacrificing. Again. The other side could find out, and the consequences would be gory and painful but you came to meet Percy, to prepare him.
And all he could look at was how grey your hair was.
A vainer person would've coloured their hair.
Your eyes are tired, entire body tense as if preparing for sudden attack. But you smile bravely at him, and Percy gets whiplash with how weirdly similar you resemble his mother back when she was alone and suffering bravely for him.
"You don't have to go back, you know," He suggests.
It's a bad idea and you both know it. But
"We could keep you safe."
"You've gotten quite the growth spurt recently," you say instead, "thank you Percy, but I'm meant to be at his side in battle. I promised him that much."
Is it worth it though? He thinks bitterly.
You love him so much, it's going to kill you.
But Percy has yet to realise that you're counting on that. That you will die at his hand, and Luke who'd burn the world and destroy all souls for you might finally see the destructive nature of his ways– see clarity through grief.
It's horrible plan.
Or maybe he does realise it but hasn't truly understood.
Regardless, he moves forward and pulls you into a hug. His first sister, his crazy friend and foe. Gods, he's as tall as you now.
Your hand brushes the grey locks on his head and you slowly back away.
"See you around Percy. Take care."
*****************************************************************************
#luke castellan#luke castellan x reader#percy jackon and the olympians#percy jackson#pjo fanfic#pjo fandom#pjo x reader#percy jackson x reader
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pillow talk
pairing: taehyun x reader
genre: suggestive?? it's nothing explicit but i wouldn't call it fluff either cause it's just a makeout sbdsbshd
summary: more taehyun brainrot (i'm insane.)
warnings: none<3
word count: 0.6k
a/n: here it is, just as promised!!!!😼😼💖 sorry if it seems like i've been spamming lately- i'm gonna go back to uni in less than a week so i'm kinda trying to make the most out of my free time until then sadbahjb cause i don't know how active i'll be after that :( also this is completely off topic but i JUST found out the game burger shop 3 has been released.........it's downloading right as i'm typing this.....guess i might be busy over the next few hours
his hands were all over you- coming from cradling your hips to stroking down the skin of your thighs, gently gripping the muscle as he further immersed himself in the feeling of your lips on his. he couldn’t get enough of it- having you tangled up in his sheets every night, with no other priority on his mind besides losing yourself in your warm embrace.
parting slightly, you lingered with your lips hanging open, still touching against his, yet not returning to closing the space.
“wanna go slow?”
taehyun’s eyes were still closed as he heavily exhaled, answering you.
“don’t be a tease, sweetheart”
but he waited patiently, caressing the curves of your hips, hair already a ruffled mess. your fingertips traced the outline of his lips slowly, in an almost tantalizing manner.
switching to lean in closer, you pressed a peck so quick it could barely be called a kiss before you nibbled on his lower lip, provoking him further with your tongue as you lightly brushed it over his lips, yet not turning to do anything more.
“just kiss me” he groaned, at which you let out a small laugh.
taehyun felt his cheeks go red, it wasn’t usual for him to act with such transparent greed. his desire was beginning to feel insatiable- it was a struggle to contain it.
“you’re too impatient-” you began to mutter, but taehyun reconnected his lips with yours, kissing you right through your words.
that tenderness of yours- it was such sweet agony feeling you touch him so slow, teasing the fiery longing burning within him. who would have thought that a mere two centimeters could be so maddening?
now that he had convinced you to give in again, he cupped your face, holding you close. his lips moved against yours in a slower rhythm than before, taking his time to feel you, to pleasure you, careful so that you wouldn’t pull away again and leave him hot and heavy chasing after you. he turned further into a mess the more you bit his lips, the more your tongue glided past his, the more he felt the heat of your mouth.
out of breath, you pressed your forehead to his for a few moments before moving to graze his jawline with your lips. you dipped your head down to reach his neck, all while your left hand caressed the skin along his nape, switching between lightly scratching with your nails against his scalp, and tugging at his hair.
the more you nipped at his neck, the more he felt himself becoming slightly feverish; low hums and soft praises escaping whenever you took your time biting down a certain spot.
“fuck- do that again” the words escaped in a mellow tone.
“do you like it?” you asked teasingly, pausing your movements.
“don’t stop” he pleaded urgently. it’s not just that he wanted more- he needed more. he needed to feel you closer, to feel the heat from your lips completely coating his body, settling and nibbling on his bare skin.
“keep going, baby” he urged you on.
his chest heaved underneath you, and you could feel his heart thump in expectation. he couldn’t just stay still, his fingers were brushing over the expanse of your back, roaming around your shoulder blades then down your spine, and coming to settle on your waist underneath your shirt. in a mixture of desire and anticipation, he threw his hair back, releasing a soft sigh- no matter how much your lips brushed over his, no matter how many times you explored his body, he could never cease craving more of your touch.
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A quick prompt
“Please…” Hero wheezed, clawing their fingernails desperately into the dirt, trying to pull themselves forward, closer to Villain who was so heart wrenchingly close if Hero could just reach them. “Please d-don’t…”
Villain tilted their head at the exhausted Hero with more pity than sympathy, and a little bit of awe at how even when beaten, even when eating dirt, Hero still didn’t know when to quit. Maybe they were born without a survival instinct.
“I told you before Hero,” Villain said.
Hero’s grip in the dirt turned their knuckles white and they cried out a strangled scream of frustration and helplessness as they pulled their limp body towards Villain.
“You can’t save everyone, everywhere, at all times and expect to get away with it.”
“Yes…” Hero panted, dragging themselves an inch closer. “I can. As long as I draw breath, I can save the world.”
“Sweetheart,” Villain cooed, clicking their tongue against the roof of their mouth. “You can’t even save yourself.”
Hero heard, more than saw, Villain push the button on their remote and froze. It was as if the Earth took a sharp inhale of breath — the world turned slower, nature grew quiet, all Hero could hear was the ringing in their ears and the thundering pounding of their heart in their throat — the ground rumbled beneath Hero and they had just enough strength to push their head up to watch as everything they knew turned to ash.
The fire burned hot, as if Hero was in it instead of beside it, looking down at it, and no matter how much they wanted to Hero couldn’t tear their eyes away from the flames or the screams or the smoke or the sirens or the death and destruction they could have prevented if they had just been stronger.
Hero flinched as a hand settled on the nape of their neck, rubbing soothing circles over the skin. “It was a valiant effort Hero, I want you to know that. There is nothing you could have done. Although you did come the closest to beating me. I had to even the playing field a bit, what with your borderline obsessive tenacity.”
Villain’s words sent a shiver up Hero’s spine. “Don’t worry, this is only the beginning. I told you we would change the world, didn’t I?”
They did. That was the first thing Villain ever told Hero. At the time it sounded so attractive, so endearing. It was so easy for Villain to convince Hero to follow Villain after that because they wanted the same things.
Hero just didn’t imagine that in order for the world to change, so many needed to die.
“Come on now, let me get you back to bed. We can start rebuilding tomorrow. That’s when the real work begins.”
#writblr#hero villain writing#hero villain snippet#hero villain story#hero#villain#writing#orphan writing#whump writing#orphan#exhausted hero#exhausted whumpee#kind villain#whump drabble#hero villain Drabble#hero/villain#hero/villain Drabble#villain x hero#hero x villain#betrayal#drabble#scraps of writing#hero villain prompt#whump prompt#short prompt#random prompt
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- Queen of the Kings.
izana kurokawa x fem reader.
warning: pet names, intercorse, foreplay, smut, reader + izana both virgins, teasing, little rough sex - mdni NSFW
w\n: alright so this is the first part of a mini series for my dearest birthday month. hope you all enjoy! - also if you assume that it was inspired by his newest throne image.. i will confirm you be would be absolutely correct. its too~❤️
~
' - come here.' he motioned toward you running his fingers quickly through his sleek silver strands. being the only female in tenjiku meant one thing - all eyes were on you always watching your every move. not gone unnoticed by the king- himself. izana knew that you were insanely strong for what your frame and build showed and he asked you himself one evening personally to join his superior gang of the dark underworld- to which you jumped at the offer after he saw- witnessing your superior potential on the chance late one summer night. there wasn't a single shot in oblivion that you'd turn him down. they were known as the elite squad of hellraisers- the infamously heard of street bikers that would end your life if you even breathed wrong in the direction of their leader in his presence. for years of your lifetime you spent searching for the one place you could fit in where you could be accepted for who you really are -without any shred of luck for every attempt at finding the perfect group. until you met tenjiku that fateful day late in june.
he dubbed you within that first night a member of his gang and today he had called you to the place where they were now waiting on your arrival. feeling the heat burning on your cheeks from how quickly you were rushing in the blazing summer heat to the meeting spot without any slight bit of hesitation to your footwork because you knew how punctual they had expected the arrival of their special invitation to be. your heart hammering with echoes of excitement ringing in your chest made you fly through the entrance with a swift little leap in your step ready to find out exactly what it was he had requested of you for. you weren't afraid of them for not even a heartbeat - there wasn't any reason to be. they were the best place you knew of the only home you found- the only people who would accept you for your actual talent. these individuals that were seriously much stronger than you were yourself and it was fascinating to your mind to say the in the slightest of words. your every sense was on set on fire- whenever they were around you.
after you presented yourself in a timely fashion with the same bright smile still aching on your expression- making it obvious to the group that you weren't going to be a regular ordinary new recruit. izana spoke slowly as your presented yourself to his front standing tall against his intimidatingly infamous strong demeanor. he bestowed the honor to you of one of his "heavenly kings" to which you turned to him smugly with your daring response ' i am not a king - ' ♥️. ' i am the queen of the kings, darling.' all while holding your ground standing firmly and proudly with the biggest grin across your features causing the king himself to start to feel tinge threatened by your words and forced his face to begin to change to the same shade crimson of his tenjiku uniform. he snapped. ' everyone get- out.' izana spoke sternly without hesitatation in his precise sharp tone. the rest knew that you'd gone and lost the war from the way the words you chose to speak to their leader and casually had turned themselves away leaving the warehouse not a moment faster then he gave the strict order. following in queue with your back now to him walking hastily away a little slower than the others fearing you had caused some ill will with your snarky response and unsure of what would be to become of your fate with the unit. ' not. - you. ' everyone was pretty much had mostly exited the building and you exactly knew who he was talking to. a small shiver pulsed all throughout your core thinking about what he had in store for your punishment.
approaching his throne- your grin turning coy seeing the look on his serious expression. it wasn't any different than his normal pissed off look he was known to give but gd dmn he was so handsome you thought as your weakened legs shook physically in a strange confusion of what you were feeling in that moment. standing in front of him- anxiously awaiting your judgement you heard him utter only one word. ' sit. ' staring blankly hearing tiny mumbles of your breath uttering out only a half coherent attempt of a response. ' you-- ' he cut you off your stuttering. ' i - told you to sit. ' you nodded without thought and in a seconds time you moved your body closer to him knowing that his word was rule. in the time it took you to reach his waiting lap- the palpable wetness between your legs became undeniably moistened with the heat speading over your tightened muscles and across your aching thighs. this was too much for anyone to take- not wanting to make a wet obvious stain on his uniform pants you placed your bottom side on his knee- almost santa claus style not trying to see how mad he was when he gave his ruling over your behavior to him before. your body erupted in sheer stimulating sensations as the feeling of his fingertips traced your sweat kissed skin along your sides traveling towards your chest when you felt his fingers move down to graze across your hips lightly pulling you in closer to his chest and his strong arms- feeling across every inch of your tender soft flesh. it made your heart sing in every last desire but still shaking in bliss with ideas from the unknown of what he had planned. there was no sound besides light shallow breathes coming from your chest trying to hold back the want to gasp at every last touch and his signature hanafuda earrings ringing in your ear gently moving in the motions he made as he glided his fingertips across the top your stomach now teasing his way up towards your breasts. izana knew you were a bold one- he liked that about you and you made his mind go wild with twisted fantasies of what your words earlier had left implied. in his state- izana was sick for you- since that very first time he laid his eyes on you- seeing you go laying out that six-foot monster to ground trying to attack you knocking him out flat cold. he was completely infatuated over being with you like this. he saw how tenacious your aura made him and it drove him too maddened with lust for you.
he pushed past your little tank top and grasped on tight to your left breast firmly without letting go. ' nn-gh!- ' it was just impossible to stifle the moan that bursted through your lips. laughing in response- his other hand moving its way down towards his lap to grab onto the place you prayed inside it would find. ' hm- you enjoying this aren't you? turn around and let me see- you. ' pulling your hips in a tailspin before your body could even hesitate or react to find a way to hide your messy over-exerted expression you were met face to face with the king who looked just as reddened and fucked up looking as you were you could only imagine. for a moment you were both left speechless- staring into his deep lavender eyes for what felt like a forever until you heard a small quiet breathe leave his lips with two words for you mixed in- ' ride me.' without attempt or thought your body mindlessly in its own possession began rubbing your heat on his length craving the feeling of what he offered between your legs and wanting so bad to contain yourself but there wasnt a chance. you were his puppet- dancing on a string to a sonnet of his affection. he pulled lightly on your ponytail from how the amount of friction to his pulsing cock was making his body feel - izana was a virgin that never experienced these types of sensations to his body from anyone other than himself so it made him start bucking his hips wildly into your soft core without the gratifying feeling he needed desperately. now more than ever you couldnt breathe and felt your own body crying out to you to undo his belt and just get it over with already. as if reading your thoughts he smirked and grabbed onto your waist with his wrist and his pants button with his free hand. ' zana - ' that nickname you just spoke to him had him damned near insanity from hearing it tempting him once again from of your words one more time -
rapidly as he was freeing himself from the rough restraints of his tenjiku trousers he grabbed his cock leaking just as much as he expected from how your every word affected his body. in response to the perfect sight of his huge dick almost intimidating as he was your craving knees lifted themselves over him placing yourself in position. izana couldn't stop hearing the thrumming of drumline in his veins wanting as you hovered over his sweat lined torso stifling your panting to the best of your every ability. he pulled you into him impatiently nudging his reddened tip against your swollen clit making your mouth to accidentally let out a weak moan in his swift motion -causing your pussy to squirt down over his length making him smile in gest. 'hmn!- nn-gh-' izana couldnt contain himself- he slammed his hard dick into your insides from how the warmth of your slick just wasnt enough for him- feeling deprived of what he needed most right now. just who- he needed most right now. it sent him over the egde- knocking him back in his seat from the waves of intenses your moist walls were sending thoughout his entire anatomy. you werent any better- thrusting your rocking hips slowly down on to his dick even more enlarged from how it was on first glance from his excitement of how well you felt tightly pressing onto his cock feeling every shiver against his throbbing length leaving him wanting to press himself deeper inside so much more. ' ungh!-' he grunted as your body sank down dipping lower and lower onto his member making his torso blaze up in heat as he tried moving along with you in your motions with his hands placed timidly and tightly around your hips as you made him feel beyond better than he could have ever expected or fathomed from this experience. izana grabbed onto your ass pushing you furthur pass your possible threshhold could contain him. 'ah! - mnnh! ..izana!- ' he licked his supple lips at your whines of his praise and traced his bulging large cock deeper in your folds experiencing the for first time ever what sheer joy could be- nudging you towards your climax into a zone of unknown territory for you as well. you never dreamed your first time would be with a true gang member let alone the gd- damn ruler himself. his purple eyes grew wide at the sight of your curves spilled around his length causing his legs to thrust up faster making you scream out his name even more than you wanted - ' zana! ah! yes- zana! - ' there it was again- and again you kept on mumbling the weak spot he had in his heart for you when he heard you he snapped fucking you without restraint over his sanity. 'ah- omg zana- fck! youre so big- ' it made his his eyes tear up from the pain running down his spine of how bad he wanted to cum in you right there but he couldn't dare. it was time you understood what you were in for when you willingly chose freely to walk by his side. izana wanted nothing more than to fill you up with the last of his contents but held back with all his strength forcing him close pushing himself past the limit of his breaking and you couldn't get enough of it. the way you left him breathless and sighing now heavily almost sobbing from how well you were taking his cock inside your heat. it made you so thrilled to be the one to break down the king himself that you couldn't stop from grinding yourself on to him faster- wanting to be the only person the reason for his first release in this special way.
izana grabbed blindly for support finding himself grounded on your ponytail- his clumsy frenzied hands accidentally freeing out your hair as he watched it cascade down over across your chest. the sweet feeling it sent through him from the sight of your beautiful form fucking over his entire length taking him so damn well it took over his mind completely leaving his glazed eyes with practically heart emojis for you- it was pure ecstasy he was embraced in and he never wanted it to end. he pulled on your chest kissing you full on with passion burning in his breathe with every last shred of his dignity out of reach - this was his true paradise. your soft pillows of your pout on his made his whole entire organs erupt in flames. it was beyond the embrace of your tender mouth firmly pushed onto his- you were his first time someone who he never thought would enter his life let alone kick him down from his throne. he needed to have you cum for him too- he couldn't end it like this. izana began grinding himself into you pressed so deeply practically trying to impregnate you with his rapid white hot seed painting your insides fully dripping down across his legs from out your folds causing him to whine out in pure ecstacy. ' ungh!- you- wanna make you my queen- love..' ' wan-t. ugnh- .. you to be mine forever- ' you were at a loss for thought at this point and past the point of forming words when your orgasm hit on with the image of what he said dancing across your wildest dreams. ' yes! -ah! yess zana yes!- ' your voice came so clearly as you did all over his member with no stopping the floodgates which it made him cry out in his confused state of bliss- knowing his tip was reaching up to your core pulsing faster inside of you with as much he could stand. the feeling of him drenching your insides coating them in every last corner had your climax bursting into fireworks in the summer night sky creating a moan slipping out for him that left him pulled in a trance of your fucked out bliss. ' nngh!- izana!- ' he grabbed you into his lips again this time moving his tongue past your lips into yours with alignment exploring the inside with curiosity and full passion for the very first time. you needed to feel his taste against yours kissing back with intensity as your walls fluttered around him clenching on his dick as you riding out your high. he was mentally pulling himself together some what as you pulled apart from his mouth when he heard you giggle a little placing your fingertips over your mouth. his orchid orbs gazed into yours enraptured by what could be so damn amuzing to you until you placed yourself in a soft voice speaking into his waiting ear- ' want to go for a round two- my king? ' you were done for- now that he had his first time under his belt and knew what he could do to you izana wasn't gonna even try to hold back. -😈
@izanazqueen © -all rights reserved.
please do not copy / repost my work
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tag, you’re it!!
pairing: yandere! dottore x afab test subject! reader
tw: written by a minor!!!, dddne, heavy noncon, wound fucking, gore, biting, mentions of vomiting but it doesn’t actually happen, biting, lots of blood, blood drinking, kidnapping, drugging, use of weapons, stalking, pet names, dehumanization, i think that’s it, but if i missed anything please let me know!!
a/n: i honestly can’t defend myself on this one um. enjoy <3
minor writing smut, dni if uncomfortable!!
you don’t think your heart has ever beat so fast. you can feel it racing beneath your skin as you run barefoot through the forest, blood rushing through your veins as you hold a hand over your mouth to muffle your desperate, horrified sobs. behind you, you can hear the man that’s been chasing you for the better part of an hour. his heavy footsteps, his terrifying laugh, his sickeningly mocking remarks as he spots the footprints you leave in the mud, unable to cover them up with him right behind you. the wind cools the tears on your face, and it feels like the archons are mocking you. you internally curse them for not granting you a vision, a way to get out of this horrible situation.
your legs burn, and your pace involuntarily gets slower as you sob helplessly, his voice filling your ears, condescending and horrible. “what’s the matter, little rabbit? i can hear you crying.” your legs give out, and you collapse on the muddy floor, your sobs increasing in their urgency as his footsteps get closer and closer. you squeeze your eyes shut, curling your body against the tree you fell against as he finally reaches you. you haven’t gotten a good look at him yet, and you hope you never do. you don’t want to put a face to the voice that’s been tormenting you all night.
you flinch when he reaches a hand out and strokes your cheek, shockingly gentle compared to what you had expected, and he lets out a condescending chuckle and yanks your jaw up to meet his eyes, growling out his words as he speaks. it seems he’s dropped the faux kindness from earlier. “look at me. look at me.” when you obediently open your eyes, sniffling and letting out pained sobs every few seconds, he grins, baring his unnaturally sharp teeth from below his mask and nodding as he appraises you. you feel like a piece of meat, and you’re sure that’s his intent. to dehumanize you, make you feel less than.
he nods to himself, then speaks again. “good. you’ll make a fine specimen, i’m sure.”
you stare up at him in fear, doe eyes widened as you try to flinch away from his iron grip. he doesn’t let you, you didn’t expect him to, though your struggling does seem to please him. you find yourself only more terrified at that fact. your voice is quiet, weak, and he only grins more at the sound. “what… what do you want from me?”
he doesn’t respond, only gives you another horribly wrong looking smile before, almost inhumanly fast, pulling out a syringe and sticking it in your neck. the last thing you remember before everything goes black is how painless it was. like he’s had practice.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
when you wake up, the first thing you notice is the apparent lack of foliage around you, instead replaced with sinister looking metal structures and cages that are stained with something that looks horrifyingly like blood. the second thing you notice is how securely restrained you are. there’s tight, thick straps around your wrists, elbows, knees, ankles, neck, and waist, all of which have locks on them, presumably so you can’t escape.
your mind wanders back to the man in the forest, and what he injected you with. how quickly it worked and left a gap in your memory. as you think more about it, you consequently get more scared. you’re suddenly pulled out of your thoughts by a loud, horrible beeping noise, which you come to realize is the heart rate monitor you’ve been hooked up to. you try to take deep breaths to lower it before the man comes in and realizes you’re awake, but you fail. of course you fail.
his footsteps fill the room, and the beeping gets faster as your heart rate increases more with the terror he inspires in you. he smiles at you again, and his voice rings out, terrible and anxiety inducing. “i see you’re awake. tell me, what’s gotten you so worked up, hm? is my laboratory scary? do you not enjoy your accommodations?”
he leans in closer to you, and you feel tears starts to pool in your eyes as your body fills with dread. the man seems amused by this, cooing softly at you and pinching your cheek in a way that’s somehow more dehumanizing than anything else he’s done so far. “please… please let me go,” you’re painfully aware of how pathetic you sound as you speak, but you hope he’ll take pity on you instead. realize you aren’t meant for whatever he has planned and release you, though you know deep down that you aren’t that lucky.
he laughs, then shakes his head no before speaking again. he talks too much, you think. “i’m afraid i can’t do that, little rabbit. though, i suppose some introductions are in order. i am il dottore, the second of the featuring harbingers, and your new master. i’ve had my eye on you for some time, dear. you… intrigue me. i have never seen someone quite as pretty as you are. so, you see, i just had to have you. you understand, i’m sure,” his voice gets on your nerves, though you know it’s best to be compliant when dealing with lunatics, so you simply nod your head as best you can with your restraints as he continues.
“good. you must be wondering what i plan to do with you, correct?” you nod again. “i have many ideas, i can’t say i’ve ever felt this way before, especially about someone as insignificant as you, so there’s quite a few things i’d like to try. of course, i will bathe you, then examine you more thoroughly than i managed in the forest. after i’ve collected your baseline vital statistics, and you have been thoroughly examined and cleaned, i will take you. for my research, of course. i believe it would be beneficial to encourage in coitus with you, as it might help me to better understand the origin of these feelings.”
you’re sure he can see the alarm on your face at how casually he mentions violating you in such a personal way, for he gives you a pat on the head that you think is meant to be comforting. it has the opposite effect, it only makes you more concerned. you shake your head no and give him a desperate, pleading look, your eyes filling with tears at the thought. “please, no! anything but that, i swear i won’t ever try to leave, just… please, don’t!”
his eyes light up, and you finally realize he’s removed his mask. you had been too caught up in your panicked fear to really pay attention to him, but as you examine him, his heavily scarred face, his blood red eyes, his aquiline nose. he’s… undeniably attractive, your brain supplies. you immediately try to push those thoughts away, he just said he was planning on raping you, for archon’s sake, you cannot find him attractive. he clearly picks up on your inner struggle, judging from the amused smile he wears and the way he leans in closer to you, softly caressing your cheek with the back of his knuckles.
“i suppose if you’re that against me taking you vaginally, i could find another way to have you. though i can’t promise it will be as pleasant. it is quite hard to give the recipient pleasure in other orifices,” his cologne fills your nostrils as he leans in so close to you, your lips just barely touching. he smells like roses and leather, with just a hint of blood and bleach along with other chemical smells you can’t quite place. you hate yourself for thinking it, but it’s not an entirely unpleasant scent. in fact, you think you’d quite enjoy it on anyone else.
he hums, nosing against your throat and leaving a bite where your neck meets your shoulder. it’s painful, and you have to bite your tongue to resist crying out as the tears that had been building finally start to fall. you can’t hold back the choked sob that escapes when you feel the copious amount of blood that falls from the wound, sure to leave a scar. an inescapable, undeniable, permanent reminder of what he’s done to you and what he plans to do to you.
he ignores your distress, only whispering half hearted coos as he licks up all the blood from your fresh bite mark and groans softly at the taste. the realization that he’s getting pleasure from this makes bile start to rise up your throat. “shh, shh… you taste divine. perhaps that’s why i’m so enchanted with you. you’ve put a spell on me.”
dottore softly laps up the blood that pours from your wound, and you hate yourself a little more for thinking the feeling is somewhat pleasant. his tongue is soothing on your wound, his saliva is unnaturally cold, and surprisingly doesn’t make the cuts sting. you don’t know if it’s the blood loss or the paralyzing fear you’re feeling, but you can’t bring yourself to push him away.
he pulls his mouth away from your wound and wipes the last few beads of blood away from it with his thumb. he examines the way the ruby red liquid reflects the light and contrasts the back leather of his glove as it sits on his finger, and then he brings his thumb to your lips, his tone leaving no room for argument as he commands you. “open.”
you reluctantly obey, looking at him tiredly as the blood loss starts to hit you more and more, your vision slowly starting to become fuzzy at the edges, painting everything in a sort of giddy haze as the pain mixes with the pleasant feelings his sweet words and scent invoke in you. he gives you a smile, patting your head once again as he slides his thumb, still carrying your blood, into your open mouth. “good… good pet,” his hand strokes your forehead comfortingly, and the lights suddenly seem all too bright, your eyebrows furrowing weakly as you try to turn your head away from them.
“shh… just sleep, little rabbit. i’ll take good care of you. when you wake, i’ll be ready for the last part of my plans.”
you don’t have time to really think about what he means by that before the fuzzy edges of your vision fade completely to black, your consciousness quickly ebbing away.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
you’re passing out far too often for your liking, you decide as you come to. this time, you’ve been restrained on a soft bed in what looks like the private chambers of some very wealthy individual. it takes a moment for everything to come back to you, but the dull, throbbing pain in your shoulder quickly helps you remember.
you examine your surroundings once more, taking note of the black and dark blue color scheme of the room, along with the silver accents and luxurious feel of, what you assume is, dottore’s sheets. as you try to move to assess how secure your bindings are this time, you come to a horrifying realization. you aren’t wearing your knee length, cotton chemise anymore, and there isn’t a trace of any mud on your skin. someone has bathed and changed your clothes, into a much more revealing, practically see through babydoll dress.
you realize something even more horrific as you examine your body more closely. someone has also shaved you completely bare.
your attention is snapped to the door as dottore enters, holding a briefcase that gives you a horrible feeling. “good, you’re awake. i was almost worried i had injured you fatally.” he sets the briefcase down on the bed, not giving you a moment to speak, and pulls out a terrifyingly sharp dagger, turning to you with a small smile.
“now, since you seemed so distraught over me having vaginal intercourse with you, i’ve decided on an alternative,” he doesn’t elaborate further, only approaching you and inspecting your body as he marks out various places, mostly on your upper thigh or abdomen. you feel horribly exposed, wearing nothing but a sheer, short babydoll, but there’s nothing you can do about it. you have no idea what he plans to do, but you’re sure it will be torturous.
he finally settles on a spot, a fatty area just above your belly button on the left side, and he walks over to that side of the bed with the blade. he marks out a relatively large circle with a pen, and you realize what he means to do.
your struggles are reignited, and you start to sob as he places the pen back in his breast pocket and gently shushes you. “calm down. it will only be worse for you if you struggle, dear.”
your sobs grow louder as he makes the first incision, you start thrashing around in your bindings and trying desperately to get away from his blade. you give him a pleading look as he continues to carve a horrifyingly deep hole into your skin, and your voice is weak, breaking with every word from the excruciating pain of getting carved into without any sort of numbing solution. “p-please, can- can’t, ‘s- ‘s hurting me, st-stop-!”
he completely ignores you, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic from his bag and spraying it on the large wound. your pain is only increased, and you realize why you’re retrained so tightly. he finally looks back at your tear covered face, and gives you a smile as he pets your hair. “there, the hard part is over. now it’s time to continue the experiment.”
you sob, shaking your head no as you cry out from the pain, watching in horror as he undoes his pants just enough to pull his cock out. he positions it at the hole he’s created for himself, and, without any sort of warning, thrusts himself deep inside. you cry out, choking on your sobs and gagging from the all encompassing pain as bile starts to rise up in your throat once again.
he gives a deep moan as he starts to move, completely uncaring of your protests and the agony you’re in as he chases his own pleasure inside of you. his fingers curl around the other side of your torso, and he pulls you into each of his thrusts, only increasing your pain. “you truly are fantastic…”
you think you’re going to be sick.
how dare he enjoy this? how dare he violate you in such a way and have the gall to moan about it? if you had the strength, you think you might kill him.
you dissociate for most of the experience, something your eternally grateful for. you don’t want to remember any of it. the feeling of his thrusts into your limp body starting to falter and his cock twitching inside your, now more of a gash, really, remind you of the very real threat that he’ll cum inside of your large wound.
before you get a chance to plead with him not to, though, you feel the burning, hot liquid fill the space nothing should ever touch. it hurts, almost more than the actual fucking did, and you think you pass out from the feeling.
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ୨୧ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
when you come to for the third time, you’ve been bandaged and stitched up and dottore holds you in his arms, tucked snugly against his side while he writes notes, presumably about the torture he’s just put you through. he smiles down at you, petting your hair once again before he stands up, leaving you tied to the bed. “i wished to make sure you would wake up. now i must get back to my work.” he pauses in the doorway as he leaves. “you were wonderful, and my hypothesis was incorrect. having intercourse with you did not cure me. in fact, it only made me more taken with you. …i have decided to keep you, in light of this revelation.”
with that, he swiftly walks out of the room, closing the door behind him. you cry softly to yourself, and then feel a sudden weight on your lap. as you look down, you feel bitterness fill you at the sight.
there, sitting perfectly on your lap, taunting you, is a shiny, anemo vision.
#⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ angel’s creations ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎#tw: noncon#tw: wounds#tw: kidnapping#tw: drugging#tw: gore#dddne#dead dove do not eat#dead dove fic#yandere genshin smut#yandere genshin x you#yandere genshin x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin dottore#yandere dottore smut#yandere dottore#yandere dottore x reader#dottore x reader#dottore smut#dottore#genshin noncon#genshin impact#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader smut#genshin x you
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How Lookism characters would eat you out
- Daniel, vasco, zack, gun, goo, Dg
Daniel Park
He’s a virgin. Cant expect much homie
I’d expect him to be a quick learner so he’d look at you throughout it, very experimental with it
Soft kitten licks soft kitten licks soft kitten licks.
Oh? You like it here instead? Okay! He’ll go crazy 💯
Id see him as quite shy and nervous as he wouldn’t know what he’s doing though he’d get more comfortable and confident with reassuring words!
As he gets more used to it you’ll be in tears
Soft and sensual licks, his face buried inside you flicking his tongue the way he knows drives you crazy
UI Daniel on the other hand… a menace. Absolute menace.
Forget walking bby you’ll forget how to think all together
Goodluck soldier
Vasco
I LOVE VASCO
WHYRE HIS BONKERS SO FUCKING HUGE????
He’s so cute I feel like he’d be so dumb and lick the left flap
Like I KNOW he’d do smt wrong by accident bc the poor guys just so confused
Somehow has a charm to him like somehow
Maybe it’s bc his milkers are so large you get delusional or maybe it’s bc his abs are all sweaty and he looks hot but theres SOME CHARM THERE
Vascos so cute
Would put your release before his like it’s a priority he’d put the burn knuckles on the line for it
Wants to make you feel good so teach him the way and he’d do wonders
Zack Lee
Stop joking honey hes a taken man
Keep scrolling home wrecker 🤬🤬
joking he’s also in the virgin gang ^^
Whole worrywart
He’d ask if he’s doing this right, if you feel good, or literally anything
I see him as a body worshipper or like he’d be into praise
Pls tell him he’s doing a good job
Very sweet I love zack
Still a taken man tho keep scrolling boo 😒
Gun
Would he even eat you out or would he get straight to pounding your brains out let’s think for a second
Have a strong feeling he’d be so aggressive
Strong and power licks. Like not even kidding
Have you seen his body maybe he does tongue workouts too u never know??
You want him to go slower? He’ll go faster. You want him to go faster? He’ll go slower. You want him eat you out at all? He’ll dip.
He’s such a menace for what
yk how he takes glasses off during fights? He does it while eating u out and I find it so oddly hilarious
Imagine he outs the glasses on and somehow gets turned on by it GOODBYE
Slaps ur genital area?? He’s mean. He’s just mean.
This is supposed to be like nsfw but it’s a parody atp I feel like gun was such a leash kid it’s so funny HE PROBS BIT A TEACHER IM FALLING IT IDK
He’ll go feral on u 💯 dick in or tongue in idc he’s a beast
He’d degrade u Roo like calling u a little slut for being turned on by how mean he’s being with u
Goo
HES JUST LIKE GUN BUT MORE GOOFY??
WOULD HE EVEN EAT U OUT FOR FREE?
Better get the bag before u think abt getting his tongue
u silly thing
He’d laugh idk and the vibrations would make your eyes roll back and ur all shivering
Would lick the left flap. But on purpose.
Teases u on purpose hes just so mean
he would listen to u either like no going fast hed go slow no going slow her go fast HES JUST LIKE GUN MF
Dg/James Lee
……….
Theres a lot to say but a lot not to say.
Eye contact. Mega eye contact.
Him as James Lee? A menace. I mean it’s already Canon that he’s a menace so why do u think he won’t be one in the bedroom?
ur so silly!
He’s James Lee the living legend of the first gen that’s know to be the best at literally every fucking thing HE WON POETRY LIKE MAD RESPECT IM SO BAD AT POETRY
If he’s good at everything he’s probably a god in the bedroom
ITS ALSO CANON HE HAS A BIG DICK
Maybe I’m biased and I love James but. Yeah.
You’ll be screaming, crying, fucked out, and all but keep going u got this!
him as DG however…
The same. Literally the same.
Both would be such a tease.
Also part of the mean group those little fuckers
He’s so unexpected to like could he giving u small kitten licks one second and the next his tongue is faster than flash like in being so fr
To conclude, he’s a god in the bedroom and I’d like to experience it first han-
The sex legend
#dg x reader#james lee lookism#dg lookism x reader#lookism#daniel park#lee jihoon lookism#lookism x reader#zack lee#daniel park x reader#zack lee x reader#vasco x reader#burn knuckles#gun lookism#goo lookism#euntae lee#gun park#gun park x reader#smut
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Hi!
I’m wondering if I could request a sanjixreader about the reader taking a hit that was meant for Sanji but he didn’t realize, yet the reader kept fighting? I’ll leave the ending up to you.
Thank you, and I hope it’s ok
Keep fighting x Black Leg Sanji ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :
i'm really sorry for the amount of time this request took me?? it had been sitting in my drafts FOREVER and I kinda forgot about it I am so DEEPLY SORRY. this was so fun the to write and literally one of my favourite requests ever, so I hope this matches your expectation and that it would be worth the wait!! thank you for being patient with me. hope you enjoy this <;33
+1k words | gender neutral | mention of needles? | usual one piece violence.
feel free to reblog, like, and leave a comment. i would very much appreciate it. if you enjoy my works, click here to read more or buy me a coffee.
A soft breeze blew out Sanji's burning cigarette, brushing through his blonde hair almost revealing his left eye. There was no way he could have survived the next attack - he was exhausted from the battle, his enemy being the strongest he had ever met before. Trying to take a puff from the cigarette he kept holding between his lips, Sanji wanted to taste nicotine one last time. As death approached him, all he wanted was the bittersweet company of his dearest friend; he wanted to feel his lungs being hugged by the warm smoke entering his airways, like a mother holds her child. That was it - he didn't have any strength left. Maybe that stupid marimo was right all along, maybe his captain deserved a stronger wing by his side.
Sanji stood still in the middle of the battlefield, waiting for his final act. He kept his eyes closed, his mind wondering what could have been if only he had a better father, if only he didn't let everyone down.
"Wake up, you useless cook!"
Was this death? Did Zoro follow him into the afterlife? No, no. It couldn't be.
"Sanji!"
Zoro screamed again, the metal sound of his swords almost serving as a background melody for the horrors of the battle. Passing an hand through his hair, Sanji noticed he wasn't bleeding - he wondered where was the headache coming from. Running his hands over his body, he noticed how he didn't feel any excruciating pain: no broken bones, no bleeding. Yet he passed out - maybe he just overestimated his enemy; maybe, he underestimated himself. Finally regaining conscience, Sanji looked around the battlefield - and a part of him wished he never did.
Your figure was moving swiftly on the battlefield, but your attacks were slower, weaker than usual. All you could do now was avoid any fatal blow, trying to recover from the one you just received. It didn't take long for Sanji to notice how you were covered in blood, your usual combat style being impeded by the metal piece stabbed in your leg, crossing your limb from one end to the other.
Biting his bottom lip, Sanji lit another cigarette. He was furious, rage galloping through his veins and giving him a rush of adrenaline he never felt before. He felt his muscles tighten, full of a strength he didnt believe he possessed - you protected his life with yours, using your own body as a shield. How could he be so weak? How dare he put you in so much danger? A sea of emotions flooded Sanji's thoughts; he was proud of you and your strength, yet he was scared, frustrated - mad at how he failed to protect you. His eyes were filled of admiration and worry - you endured a critical hit yet you kept fighting.
"Let me."
Sanji was quick to step in, putting his body between you and your enemy. Winking at you with the sexiest smirk painted on his lips, Sanji finally put an end to the battle you both had been fighting for too long. Before he could realise it, you were already lying on the floor unconscious, exhausted from the battle and all the wounds you endured.
The next thing you saw when you opened your eyes was a torchlight, pointed directed at your pupils. Too confused to follow the light as Chopper just ordered you, you tried to stand up. An heavy hand on your shoulder stopped you from moving, forcing you to lay on the mattress.
"Not so fast, mon coeur."
A familiar voice finally said, the French accent in his words revealing his identity straight away. You smiled weakly, realising the hand on your shoulder was Sanji's. Sighing, you stayed still whilst Chopper finished his job. You were full of bandages and stitches, an IV drip connected to your arm.
"Was it really that bad?"
You whined, when Chopper finally closed his medical kit bag. You saw the reindeer nod, dragging one of his little hoof onto his face.
"You're lucky to still have your leg!"
Chopper whined, frustrated with the way you were minimising your injury. Tears started forming in his tiny eyes, making you nod and fall silent - you knew he was genuinely worried and he was probably right about it.
When Chopper finally left the room, you felt Sanji slowly sitting down on the side of the bed, your mattress slowly sinking.
"You shouldn't have done that."
Sanji finally says. His tone is calm and full of worry, yet his words stung like salt on an open cut. His hand slowly reached your face, caressing your cheeks, his fingertips delicately tickling your skin. Biting your tongue, you hold back your explanations - he probably knows you were only trying to protect him, yet he was ready to scold you like a little child. You were fine, injured but alive. And you would do it again if you had to - protecting the love of your life from a potentially fatal blow? You would do it again in an heart beat.
"I love you."
These three words slip out of Sanji's mouth in a whisper, almost as if he didn't want to let them go. But now they were out in the open, filling the hospital room you were lying in.
"I love you and I want you to stay alive."
Sanji reiterated, clearing his throat. The words almost got stuck in his throat - flashback of the battles coming to him again in a blur. Seeing you collapsed on the floor, covered in blood with countless wounds all over your body. It was too much to take. He always thought nothing could scare him anymore, he always thought that there couldn't be a bigger pain than the one his father inflicted on him. But that was before this, it was before always losing the love of his life because he wasn't strong enough.
"I love you too, stupid cook. I love you and will stay alive to save your ass."
You giggled, causing him to blush. Sanji stared at you for a second, the softest of smiles forming on his lips before he leaned down, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You were safe, you were his.
#one piece headcanons#one piece x reader#one piece fanart#straw hat crew#straw hat pirates#one piece luffy#one piece sanji#sanjionepiece#sanji fanart#black leg sanji#sanji#sanji x reader#vinsmoke sanji#black foot sanji#sanji x y/n#sanji imagine#sanji hcs#sanji x you#sanji x oc#sanji fluff#sanji one piece
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