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#i certainly don't know nor do i care
beatcroc · 1 year
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there's no way the bathroom at peppino's pizza is actually that big but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . hey ummm anyway.... i care them...... anyway there's a lil ramble on my take on fake pep's like psyche or whatever in tags on the og post if ur into that kinda thing :y
hey! it's a series! fake peppino world tour: [noise] [noisette] [peppino]<- u are here [gustavo] [gerome] [noisette again]
#ramble after realtags yeag. shoutout to serrangelic btw suggesting the silhouettes thing bc i would have Died otherwise#pizza tower#peppino spaghetti#fake peppino#gustavo and brick#arting#pizzaposting#so anyway i think fake peppino has like. a general awareness that he is supposed to Be Peppino and that he was Made to do that#and likewise he does generally try to...do that. the thing he does NOT realize is hes like really goddamn bad at it#not to be mean but like...c'mon. they are pretty distinctly different kinds of guys even beyond the physiology yknow.#he's neither on-brand nor fooling anyone dsjdsjjkgfsd. BUT!#since the rest of the cast generally likes him [at least as I play it] he thinks hes doing just fine#he's like 'oh they r happy with me so i must be getting a good grade in being peppino :)'#so getting told that 'yeah you actually really suck at that but that was never the reason people liked you'#and told that by og model peppino no less--yknow THE guy he's supposed to be living up to#who's already a bit intimidating for that and who ALSO totally wrecked him TWICE in the tower#making him acutely familiar with just how formidable the guy is and how much there IS to live up to....#it's a Moment for sure. not really a sad or hurt one though. just... contemplative.#thinking abt people liking him for being the guy he's already naturally been being even though that guy is Not Peppino#i don't think he's gonna be super broken up about realizing he has a bad grade in peppino given everything else hes got now#nor do i really think he cares enough to go like reinvent himself or whatever after the fact#he seems to b pretty clearly having fun with it already so i think he just keeps doing that#and in some cases he still has the pre-installed peppino traits/instincts like to cooka da pizza. and that's fine#is this projection. yes. but if youve been following me awhile you know most of my character writing is ghdhfdgf#gonna kinda expand on all this in the gerome one which is...one after next. itll be a bit but man.#anyway peppino will never admit to anyone and especially not himself that he's gotten a little attached to the guy. hee hoo#pep tends to be kinda surly but he certainly has his ways of showing he cares. all of which are on display here#''that thing is not my son'' says man currently watching thing's antics with the 'bemused dad' arms crossed pose. yeah ok buddy.#gus is totally onto him already but hes not gonna say anything.#if u read all this ur prize is not having to go decode fp's rot13. his lines are ''meant to be you...?'' and ''wrong question.''
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Wow oh wow. Unfortunately, I feel like having a man to say exactly what I'm saying would yield better results than me speaking for myself, because that sincerely gets me nowhere.
#I've often heard how taking a man completely changes the environment and how they respond#Sucks for me that means I'm still fucked#Borderline tearing my hair out at how often I have to repeat myself only to not be listened to#No worries I'm either just in searing pain or go numb it's chill I'm sure it's nothing#Certainly nothing to do with the injuries I went through because that's quickly dismissed as irrelevant and a non factor#Absolute worst case scenario is that untreated numbness get worse than it has and leads to amputation lmfao nothing major#But if you continue to ignore it then you don't even to do anything so it's all good for everyone#Except me of course but that's not important in the slightest nor is the continuous impact it has#I swear the hardcore NHS defenders really grate on me#'Well I was seen instantly and got every test I needed just to make sure and I was treated quickly'#And anyone who has a different experience is full of shit and lying#Like my experience is always dismissed and disregard... Apart from the allergy guy who can't help what needs help#But I can fully acknowledge other people receive amazing care despite the fact I never have#It's not perfect at all so the blind and rabid defence despite the many flaws it has regardless of the good it does is fucking cult like#Anyway I'll continue to get ignored so rip to the things I've lost due to their blatant neglect because I'm unworthy of care#And there's no one to help at all so I gotta continue going it alone and getting flat out ignored#Just perfect#Exactly what I wanted#Guess that's bye to pole permanently thank you for your fantastic world class service#I really don't know what to do and i really am crying because of it all the time
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anantaru · 8 days
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⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ paint my skin red and call me yours
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synopsis. ⊹ ‧₊˚ ᰔ your boyfriend scaramouche secretly loves it when you mark him up // ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱ ♡
cw. placing hickeys on kuni while riding him <3, marking up, whiny kuni, a/n. repost/rewrite from an old fic, fem! reader ♡
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"hey, wait— don't do that!" it almost hurts when scaramouche tells you to please please please stop marking him up even though he secretly loved it yet was too proud to tell you.
you wish to tempt out every oh so little reaction whenever you browsed your teeth along his red dimmed skin, his face tinged with clear desperation— it's a lot shinier now too, laying down in front of you.
and those hot fingers digging daggers into your hips— the very ones that sweetly branded your skin with crescent formed shapes as your body worked up and down in expressing motions on your boyfriends erection.
"you don't like when i do this?" a mutter crosses your lips when his world spins harder the second you drag your soaked cunt down, your walls trapping his shaft inside a tight, wet compression.
right now, kuni feels like his cock was about to explode, the sensations you were capable to coax out of him were bone shuddering, although he's careful to lock his whines behind sealed lips and clenched teeth.
even now, as you're riding him into the mattress hard, he still attempts to grasp onto any kind of control, hilarious, really.
"no.. i do, fuck, i love it," he almost whines, then moans, "but, j-just—"
scaramouche truly couldn't wait any longer nor does he know how to elaborate himself anymore— how does one tell another that it's actually driving him fucking mad when you claim him like that, when it's you for once pressing hickeys on his body until he's wholly coated and sticked up with red splotches and messy saliva stains.
perhaps he thought being in denial was the right way to go, but another moan spreads past his parted lips and you continue your work proudly, swallowing down the haziness of pleasure as you claw yourself on him, your pulsing walls slicking up his girth as you're repeatedly shoving your hips into him.
scaramouche secretly enjoyed himself and so did you, especially how fine and skilled your pussy was sucking down on him tonight— his cock swelling while the pre stacked up in you, rubbing back and forth his stiffened member as the echoes of lewd sounds loaded the air with fine lined electricity.
"fuck— fuck, please do more!" it's over now, "do one more.. o-on my neck," and his voice had bundled up enough courage to step up a confident octave, "do more of this, please!"
he begins to frantically rut himself upwards your warmth in needy smacks, hands urging along your shaking thighs as he was slapping himself so far up your warm cunt that you're certain you're about to release on him as well— yet the thought, that little inkling that he would fill you up with his creamy cum made you hold onto it a little longer.
just so you could climax together in the end, the hot wave of kuni shooting you full of his sticky cum certainly had your sweet pussy drool all over him, messily, until your lower half was shuddering and all sore of him.
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©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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revkooks · 11 months
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“trust issues”
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pairing: jeon jungkook x reader
genre: strangers/friends to lovers, fluff, smut
summary: you’ve spent the past two years preaching about how much you enjoy being single and that dating was never a concern for you, until you meet jeon jungkook, the sweetest guy around, who completely changes that idea for you.
word count: 8.5k
warnings: nsfw, contains smut, alcohol consumption, unprotected s*x, oral (f receiving), brief bl*wjob, spanking, rough s*x, creampies, c*m eating, f*ngering, brief h*ndjob, heavy making out
Laughter fills the quiet room of your apartment as you and your two closest friends, Chae and Jennie, catch up on the latest gossip you had to share while sharing drinks and overall having a good time. It'd been too long since you'd went out of your way to have a full girls night, it felt good to finally have that closure as you certainly weren't receiving it from anyone else.
You were, what do they call it? Celibate, you guess you could say. You were painfully single. Dating never turned out right for you which lead you to wherever you were now, single for two years and counting. You never understood why dating was such a big fuss within your friend group, you'd been pestered multiples times to even go out and 'catch a dick' but you felt weirded out by the thought. You were a strong believer of destiny and if you were to meet someone you'd want it to reach you first instead of joining dating apps.
So when the topic of dating inevitably came up, you almost rolled your eyes unintentionally, ready to hear what every single friend of yours had been telling you for the past two years come from both Jennie and Chae's mouth as they collectively turned to you. "You know, Y/N", Jennie started, "It's been awhile since I've seen you with a man. Don't you think it's time to overcome this dating break of yours and meet someone new? You never know, your soulmate could be right around the corner."
You instantly waved her off, "Thank you, Jen, but I'm fine. I don't understand why everyone assumes you need to date to be happy, I'm just fine on my own."
"There's more to it than being happy. I mean, having a partner is like having a best friend who you can love and share affection with at the same time." Chae butts in, before adding, "and sex—most people love sex, don't deny it."
All you could do was laugh softly and scoff a little at her vulgar choice of words, you didn't disagree with her but you also brushed it off being the stubborn girl you were, you knew what you wanted and didn't feel the need to take in their words when it didn't mean anything to you. After some continuous bickering they finally decided to let the topic go after finally accepting the fact that you wouldn't budge, sharing detailed stories about their own personal lives as more laughter chimed in. You were already far gone at that point, lost in your own world and thoughts as you stared down at your feet situated on the floor, your mood had dropped slightly from the conversation prior to this one.
It wasn't that it was Chae nor Jennie's fault, it was the fact the topic of dating had been brought up countless times to you and you gave the same response each time so you never understood why you were constantly bugged.
"I'm fine by myself."
"I'm just not interested."
"Dating doesn't concern me."
Those words played in your head and while it was true you also knew deep down what the major problem surrounding you not wanting to date was.
The cause was undoubtedly your past and last relationship with your former boyfriend, Eunwoo. It all started 5 years ago when you met and even from your first interaction with him you were starstruck. He was utterly gorgeous, not only that but his personality was perfect, he was sweet, patient and caring towards you, he treated you the best you'd ever been treated and always had you feeling like you were still talking to your crush 2 years into your relationship. Then when the 3rd year hit, something in him just drastically switched, it was like he was an entirely different person around you and you couldn't bare it. He was irritable, finding all the many different reasons to somehow get mad at you and when he wasn't mad he was simply neutral, never acknowledging your affection or 'I love you's.' The most you got back in response was a nonchalant 'You too.'
Something wasn't right and you knew it, if he couldn't even bring himself to tell you he loves you then why the hell was he still with you? Your gut told you he was too busy giving someone else what he was supposed to give to you though you were too in denial. Flash forward a few weeks, you come home early from work one night and there he was, with another girl. Your heart had shattered and you resorted to kicking him out the apartment, now 2 years later and you feel like you still may be wallowing in self pity with the whole dating hiatus concept.
Honestly, fuck it. If your friends were right after all then you supposed only time would tell, you still weren't interested in looking for anyone and it was going to stay that way.
Your friends had already left by the next morning, you were stationed in the kitchen, about to make breakfast until you opened the fridge and realized you were out of eggs. "For fuck's sake", you cursed beneath your breath, shutting it again before walking towards your apartment door and pulling your jacket off the rack hanging up. Luckily for you a drive to the grocery store was about five minutes away, you hurried over to your car, unlocked it and made your way there.
You instantly scurried over to the aisle where the eggs were, grabbing the box and already preparing to walk to the cashier before a voice interrupts you, stopping you in your tracks. "In a rush, huh?" The male laughs breathlessly, you turn back around to catch a glimpse of him and—damn. He was attractive, his eyes creasing as he smiled down at you, dark bangs adorning his face and a sleeve tattoo covering his arm. You simply nodded, "Yeah, I don't need anything else, plus I'm very hungry." He paused for a moment, you assumed your little interaction was over before he continued, "That's a shame, you looked like you needed help, I was already willing." You couldn't help but smile softly at his words, shaking your head, "Nope, but I appreciate the kindness, __” “Jungkook." He quickly adds, "Jungkook." You repeat, "I'm Y/N."
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Y/N, I hope to see you around again some time", Jungkook flashes you a bunny grin and from that you can see he also has a lip piercing slightly hidden away, you must admit, it suited him. You agree with a subtle bow of your head, "You too!", and with an exchanged 'bye' you both proceeded to approach your designated areas, shaking off the cute yet awkward interaction you just had as you place the one thing you brought on the cashier's desk. You quickly paid and swiftly exited the store, completely unaware of Jungkook's gaze on your back.
"Dude, why didn't you get her number?" Jungkook's best friend, Jimin, exclaims as he nudges the younger on his shoulder before taking a sip of his drink. "I don't know, it felt strange to ask. Chances are we might meet again and hopefully in a better environment, that's when I'll shoot my shot." He shakes his head almost disappointedly before continuing to blankly stare at the TV in front of him. "Why did you even put this shit on? You know I'm not a fan of reality shows." Jungkook asks the other as 'Love Island' blasts on the TV, the loud intro resonating through the room. Jimin shrugs his shoulders and calmly responds, "It's entertaining at least, and it might help with your poor flirting skills", the last sentence earned a piercing glare from Jungkook, narrowing his eyes at Jimin before standing up and walking into the kitchen. "Whatever, I'm gonna grab a drink."
Jimin waves the other off and continues focusing his attention purely on the screen in front of him, Jungkook pouring himself a glass of water in the meantime, thoughts of you swarming his mind as he fought to get rid of them. He was finding it almost impossible, your conversation, if you could even call it that, was weeks ago and by now he knew you'd forgotten about it but he hadn't. You were just so cute, gorgeous even, he was intrigued by you and if you were in a better setting he knew by now you'd have his number in your phone and he'd be getting to know you. The literal only thing he knew about you was that you liked eggs, and that did absolutely nothing for him.
He was determined, thoughts like these weren't a normal occurrence for him so you were really special, whatever it took to meet you again, he didn't care, it was going to happen. Fuck, why didn't he give you his number? Jimin was right.
"Dude, get in here!" He heard from the living room, heading back inside with his glass of water in hand, taking a small sip before sitting back down beside the other with a questioning, raised eyebrow. "What is it?", he asked, to which Jimin replied, "We're going clubbing. You needa take your mind off this shit, maybe even find a girl whilst you're at it." Jungkook audibly scoffed, Jimin's sudden request catching him off guard although he agreed with a shrug of his shoulders, "Alright, but maybe not the last part."
You were seated on your couch, sprawled out lazily as you flicked through channels before you heard your phone ping, sitting upright to grab it off the table and read what was displayed on the screen.
chae: get ready, you're going out with us
you: when did i agree to this? and who is us?
chae: it's gonna be fun, y/n. just me, you, jen and lisa.
You sighed, it wouldn't kill to go out, right? It'd been awhile, you used to love partying but recently you've found yourself turning any invite down, something was telling you this'd be different and it'd do you good, so you sat in thought before typing a response.
you: fine, what time will u be here?
chae: 7 on the dot
Setting your phone aside, you gathered the strength to hop off your couch and make your way upstairs to your bedroom, you had a few dresses you could wear for tonight that you found pretty so you rummaged through your closet before finding an ideal one. You held it in front of your body to get a clearer perspective of how'd you look in it before stepping out of your silk pajamas and slipping the dress on, adjusting it a little before taking one last look at yourself with a wide smile. You had no clue why you hadn't worn this before, it complimented you well and hugged your curves perfectly, it wasn't too revealing but it had a slit that started mid thigh.
You took a quick glimpse at your clock as it read 6:05 pm, that gave you just under an hour to complete your makeup which you figured would be enough time considering you wanted to go for a rather simplistic look, so without another thought you swiftly took a seat in front of your mirror and got started.
Time passed by quicker than you'd expected and you were startled to hear your doorbell ringing from downstairs, luckily for you you'd already finished up your look and after one last brief moment of checking yourself out, you were taking your bag, keys and phone with you and rushing down the steps to your front door. You got into your heels before opening the door for Chae who welcomed you with a bright smile, looking like a proud sister.
"You look fucking hot, Y/N", she complimented, earning a blush from you before you shook your head at her words and pulled her in for a warm hug, "So do you, now let's get going, I wanna last awhile before my feet start hurting." She nodded in agreement and brought you to the car parked outside where your two other friends, Jennie and Lisa were situated inside, you joined them and Chae began driving shortly after.
Loud music rang through your ears as soon as the four of you entered the club, you'd forgotten how different this was but you'd be lying if you said your adrenaline wasn't already pumping, your inner party girl side really revealing itself when you quickly found yourself walking towards the bar for your first drink of the night. You weren't certain of how long you were gonna last until the alcohol kicks in and you also weren't planning on drinking a lot, but it wouldn't kill to have one or two.
Lisa came over to join you, making herself comfortable on the high stool beside you, you'd only noticed her once she greeted you with an attempted, loud, "Are you having fun?", which was almost impossible considering how much the music drowned out her words. You turned your head in her direction before offering her a contented smile, "So far, yeah. We haven’t been here long enough for me to tell.” You spoke out, glancing around the area before resting your elbow on the bar and your chin on your palm.
“You wanna take a shot of tequila?” Lisa asked, to which you blatantly agreed, “fuck it.” The both of you ordered a shot and on the count of 3, downing it as you hissed simultaneously, the burning sensation wasn’t at all pleasant. You both went on to carry a conversation after that before Lisa got up to dance after asking you if it was okay, you wanted her to have fun, you were sure you’d find someone else to hang out with either way, you were a social butterfly at heart.
Jungkook and Jimin stumbled into the club, they were hardly dressed for the occasion as they both agreed to head out as soon as Jimin proposed the idea, Jungkook scrunched his nose ever so slightly before turning to the older who seemed to already be on his way to a table. He followed after him and they took a seat, “I’ll go get us drinks”, the younger declared and got up from the seat he had hardly sat down on before making his way over to the bar.
Unnoticeably he had taken the seat beside you, you were too busy being in your own world to notice him as he ordered for him and Jimin, he gazed at the woman next to him before looking back at the bar, then doing a double take because he swore the girl seemed all too familiar. His lips parted slowly as he caught a better glimpse of you and, to his surprise, it in fact was you. He almost couldn’t believe it for some reason despite the town you lived in being relatively small and the club popular, he just didn’t think he was going to see you again.
“Y/N!” He called out beside you, catching your attention and making you face him, your lips instantly curving up into a smile as you see the male in front of you. You were slightly shocked he remembered you considering your interaction at the grocery store was awhile ago and you barely had a real conversation, but his thoughtfulness meant a lot to you.
“Hey, Jungkook! I didn’t expect to see you here. How are you?” You spoke softly but loud enough for him to hear you, “I’m good, better now you’re here.” He gave you that same smile you adored the first time you saw, his words also making you feel somewhat special. “How are you?” Jungkook added, “I’ve been okay. I was kinda forced to come to this party but hey, it’s not too bad now.” You emphasized the last part to make him aware it was about him, feeling somewhat shy.
“Not gonna lie, my friend also forced me here—well, dragged, I did agree but it wasn’t my idea”, he chuckled, scratching the back of his neck as he eyed the beaming room, why did every time you meet have to be in such an inconvenient place?
Jungkook then remembered he was here with Jimin, the bartender placing the drinks he’d ordered in front of him and then he gazed back at you, “I’ll be right back, don’t want him getting mad at me”, you nodded understandably and watched Jungkook scurry with the drinks in his hands to what seemed to be the table he and his friend were at. Jimin could tell just by his gaze something had happened and Jungkook was already starting as he set the drinks down, not taking a seat because he knew he’d be going back to you.
“Dude, she’s here, the girl I was telling you about. I can’t pass this opportunity up so I’m gonna get her number this time, go have fun.” Jungkook rushed back to you and Jimin just shrugged, “more drinks for me.”
He made his way through the crowd to find you still in your seat as expected, he spoke up before you could, “You wanna get out of here? I’m not really feeling it.” You nodded, already getting out of your seat, “I’m not either, but I don’t have a ride, do you?”
Jungkook took your hand and lead you out the club, his voice finally clear as he replied, “My car’s over here, I’ll take you home.” You thanked him and shuffled into the passenger’s seat as he made his way to the driver’s, starting up the car’s engine and beginning to drive off while asking you for your location and heading towards there once you gave him it. You both talked about whatever, bonding over different things this time and actually forming the chance to get to know each other more, you were warming up to Jungkook and it felt like he was the same.
His car eventually stopped outside your house, you thanked him once again before opening the door, he called out to you. Now was his chance.
“Here, give me your phone, I’m gonna give you my number just incase you ever wanna talk”, you opened your bag to take your phone out before displaying it in front of him and allowing him to type his number in, you checked back and giggled inaudibly as you read the name he’d put in for himself: “Kook.”
You waved him off goodbye, reminding him to text you when he made it home safe to which he agreed before driving away, leading you to stumble into your apartment after managing to unlock it after a few failed attempts before instantly finding your way to your couch and slumping on it, ripping your heels off that were as you expected, painfully causing your feet to ache. You’d wasted no time to switch your TV back on and play one of your comfort shows, Modern Family, as background noise while you went upstairs to change back into your comfiest pair of pajamas.
Being at home like this is what you enjoyed the most, you appreciated the small amount of time you spent at the club since it got you out with your friends and also granted you the opportunity to meet Jungkook once again, who you actually had been thinking about after that one interaction you two shared but the thought eventually slipped from your mind since you figured you maybe weren’t going to meet again like he said after all, but you were wrong.
You learned a few key details about Jungkook from the conversation you had during the car ride. He was 25, a year older than you, he lived alone and had a doberman and you so happened to be a dog lover so you bonded over that, he likes art and dancing and he’s currently single, something you were relieved about because you were the only single friend in your group and you didn’t want the joys of another taken person flaunting their relationship.
You heard your phone buzz on the table opposite your couch as you came back downstairs in your silky pajamas, biting your lip to hide your obvious smile once you saw Jungkook was the one who’d texted you.
kook: made it home safe, thank you for tonight :)
kook: he was waiting for me
kook: [attachment: image]
A picture of his dog, Bam, lights up your screen and you let out a small laugh seeing the dog laying beside the door as if he was in fact waiting for Jungkook, you respond with an ‘awww’ before thanking him yet again for the ride home, you both begin a conversation from that point until you feel yourself yawning, indicating you were tired and ready to go to bed for the night. It was already 10 pm, you’d been chatting to Jungkook through messages and exchanging silly memes with each other for so long you hadn’t even noticed how quick time passed by. You dimmed the lights in your house and made your way upstairs to your bedroom, shuffling onto your mattress and beneath the bedsheets, receiving a sweet goodnight message from Jungkook and with that you set your phone aside and closed your eyes, dozing off the happiest you’ve been in awhile.
Friday, 3:30 pm.
“Finally”, you sigh. You quickly tore your apron off and hung it up on the rack before clocking out of work for the day, you were about to leave the coffee shop before a certain someone walked in, greeting you with a wide smile and you were definitely surprised to see him. “Kook, what are you doing here?” You asked, he held his hand up to his chest, pretending to be offended, “I like coffee, you know”, you playfully rolled your eyes and you were about to turn around to take his order before he stopped you, “I’m kidding, I’m not here for coffee, I’m here to see you.” You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter, you let out a small laugh, “You showed up as soon as I clocked out, that’s dedication.”
You walk out from the bar situated in front of you to stand directly in front of him, reaching up to pinch his cheek teasingly, “But I appreciate it, thank you for coming here.” He smiles and nods his head at you before speaking once again, “also, I came to ask, are you interested in going to the movies with me this weekend? I wanna see the new Guardians of the Galaxy.” His words almost earned a chuckle out of you, you weren’t the biggest fan but with his doe eyes and promising expression, you couldn’t turn him down. “Of course, Kook, I’d love to.”
Did this mean you two were going on a date? Maybe it didn’t, you don’t know how Jungkook viewed you but for now you both were just friends, and friends can go and see a movie together alone without it being a date.
Jungkook’s face lit up in excitement, he mumbled a soft ‘yes’ beneath his breath before glancing around the small coffee shop, it was particularly empty so he decided to lead you to a table for two and treat you with a coffee for yourself. You couldn’t fathom how he was so sweet, undeniably attractive and overall perfect yet still single? Jungkook was utterly charming, you found yourself involuntarily admiring him as he got up to order you a drink and you quickly snapped out of it once you realized what you were doing. There’s no way you were falling for him, right? Just months ago you were preaching about how you wanted to stay single and it was gonna stay that way and yet here Jungkook was, completely changing that for you.
You doubt Jungkook even saw you in that way, every kind gesture of his seemed to be friendly to you, unless you were just completely unaware. Perhaps you were in denial? Dating has always been such an no-go for you, it’s like you were off limits but not at the same time, you have said that when the time comes you’ll let it be and this might be the time you were referring to you’re experiencing right now. Over the past month, you and Jungkook have grown closer and closer and you’ve been texting nonstop, you know so much about him as he does with you, you haven’t had many chances to see each other though which is why you appreciated him coming to your workplace.
Now on Saturday you were finally being gifted the chance to spend a day with this man and you were most definitely excited about it, it’d maybe put your thoughts of possibly falling for him at ease.
You snapped out of it as he came back with the drink in his hand and that infamous bunny smile plastered on his face, placing it down in front of you, you offered a small ‘thank you’ before taking it in your own hand and beginning to quietly sip on it. You eventually finished and the two of you were standing up and exiting the building, calling it a day, he made sure to tell you he’d be picking you up at 5:30 tomorrow and you made a mental note of that. You rushed to your car and headed inside before driving back to your apartment after a long, boring day (aside from seeing Jungkook), and you spent a lot of time pondering about tomorrow rather than doing your usual activities.
The next morning arrived quickly, it was also the day of your ‘date’ with Jungkook, or platonic hanging out, whatever it was. You were over the moon as you got out of bed, and you were never typically a morning person so that spoke for itself. Jungkook had already sent you his daily ‘good morning’ text that he always manages to send before you wake up, his small efforts to make you happy genuinely meant a lot to you because everything he did was just so well thought out. You had a lot of time before he was going to arrive to pick you up so you didn’t need to worry, making your way downstairs and preparing your breakfast.
Jungkook was still happy over the fact you even said yes to watching this movie with him, he didn’t know you were a fan of Guardians of the Galaxy, were you?
Whatever, he thought to himself. Jungkook wasn’t going to lie, he’d been thinking about you way more often recently and it seemed like his brain was just accumulated with thoughts of nothing but you. He felt bad, almost. You had no idea about his secret crush on you, he didn’t want to say anything or make a move just yet despite you being in a friendship for quite awhile now. He couldn’t tell how you felt about him, he wanted to wait for an occasion like a date, you’d be alone and spending quality time together and that in his opinion was a great way to start something more. Jimin sometimes would urge Jungkook to take it a step further but he never complied, it’s not that he was nervous—maybe he was—he didn’t know, he was conflicted.
He wasn’t conflicted about his feelings towards you, he knows he likes you and he’s known it ever since he saw you in that grocery store, he was conflicted about your feelings towards him. You flirt over text, you compliment each other and now you’re getting ready to see a movie together, you could’ve shut him down but you didn’t. Then again, you may just see him as a friend and this could be a friendly date to you, that’s why he doesn’t know what to do.
Jungkook sighed to himself softly, he checked his phone incase there were any new texts from you before deciding to just set it down and go and take a shower, already preparing for the date 5 hours prior.
5:25 pm.
“He’s gonna be here any second now”, you mumbled to yourself, you checked your outfit in the mirror and made any necessary readjustments. You decided to wear a white crop-top and a miniskirt, throwing on your jacket to complete the look before shuffling into your shoes. That’s when you heard your doorbell ringing, quickly standing up from the couch to open it and you were met with a cheerful Jungkook, “Hi”, he spoke softly, to which you replied back, “Hey”, you gave him a smile and he helped you outside, his hand splayed on your back.
“You looked beautiful, by the way”, you heard him address, your cheeks flared with a slight tint of blush as you thanked him, he lead you to the car and began driving you two to the theatre.
You both arrived and you followed Jungkook inside as he fisted his hands inside his pockets, waiting in the small line for the tickets to the movie as you glanced at the different foods they had on the menu, Jungkook turning his head in your direction before he asked, “You want anything? Popcorn?”, you suddenly felt shy and also bad as he had already offered to pay for the movie and now additionally snacks so you shook your head.
“You sure?”, he spoke again, “I don’t mind. It’s my treat, after all.” To which you finally agreed and asked for a simple small popcorn but he still ordered you and himself a drink alongside it, paying for the tickets as well. You both walked to the designated room for the movie and took your seats, he’d picked ones that were right at the back of the theatre and you weren’t complaining because you hated sitting up close. You got the best view from back here.
After awhile, the lights dim and the screen extends, Jungkook’s already shuffling around in anticipation while occasionally taking a sip of his drink and you can’t help but find him adorable, you didn’t mean to focus on him more than the movie. You hoped he hadn’t noticed you staring so you quickly focused on the big screen in front of you. You hear laughs and different reactions from the audience at every other scene, you find yourself getting comfortable in your seat and eventually you’re drawn into the movie just like everybody else.
Jungkook was stealing glances at you as well, you looked too damn good in your outfit, he could see your curves as the skirt hugged them perfectly and then his eyes trailed further up to your lips, he wanted to kiss them. He was content just seeing you enjoying the movie, you were like his own personal movie as he found himself enjoying watching you way more. Was he being weird? Probably. Did he care? Not really.
You go to glance at him only to realize he already was, you make eye contact and for a moment it’s awkward but Jungkook just silently laughs and smiles at you, turning back to the movie. You were blushing by that point, trying to get over your own thoughts as you fixated your gaze on the screen.
By the time the movie was over, Jungkook was emotional and so were you, but he definitely expressed it more as he walked out the room with you, going on about his favorite parts of the movie and how much of a wreck it made him. You chuckled at how dramatic he was, he eventually came down from it and he yet again splayed a hand across your back, giving it a gentle rub before walking you out the theatre completely. “Thank you for seeing that with me, you’re honestly the best.”
“You’re the best for taking me, Kook. I enjoyed it a lot.” You rested your head against his shoulder tiredly, the movie was pretty damn long so by the time you two were out it was already 8 pm. He ended up taking you back home and you continuously thanked him for the amazing night, you were definitely planning on doing this again with him some time. You entered your apartment, replaying the moments in your head. He made you so happy, you couldn’t believe how much your boring life had changed upon meeting Jungkook, he appreciated you and showed you what it’s like to be cherished. He was always so sweet to you, Jungkook had a heart of gold and constantly went out of his way to do things he knew would make you happy.
He’d asked you what your favorite type of flowers were one day and after you replied with ‘roses’, he showed up at your workplace with a bouquet full of them. No guy has ever bought you flowers, not even Eunwoo, that had you thinking back on your last relationship and suddenly you were distraught again.
Eunwoo was sweet at first as well, then it went downhill. That wasn’t to say that Jungkook would be the same but this is exactly why you had trouble with dating after him, you had trust issues. You were convinced Jungkook was the sweetest guy and wouldn’t do anything to hurt you but you also felt that way with Eunwoo at first. You didn’t wanna paint Jungkook out to be any type of bad guy because he’s shown that he’s nothing but good to you, you’re just an overthinker and you can’t help but get flashbacks of your stupid ex-boyfriend whenever something like this happens to you.
You didn’t want Jungkook to have to put up with this if you ever even reached the point of a relationship. Your issues weren’t his problem, it’s not his fault you’re scared to commit.
You narrowed your eyebrows as you thought of Eunwoo again, if you never met him things would’ve been fine. Now he’s probably out there living his best life and you’re still stuck on the damage he gave you.
But when you thought of Jungkook, a whole new wave of happiness swarmed through your body and everything about him put you at ease, you felt safe around him, he treated you like you were the only girl in the world. You had to admit, you were falling for him, and that’s something you thought would never happen with anyone.
“I’m falling for him.” You declared, almost a little nervously as you glanced back and forth between Chae and Jennie.
You’re surprised when Jennie exclaims, “See! I told you so. I knew you liked him, this is perfect. I’ve always wanted you to be with someone just like Jungkook.” And you turned to Chae who only shrugs as though she was silently agreeing with Jennie. Their reactions do make you laugh but you also roll your eyes slightly because you’d been over this with them before, that you don’t want to date and you don’t need a man and here you were, a few months later, stating you’d met someone.
They knew about Jungkook already, after you left them at that party you had to apologize and Lisa caught you out, telling the whole groupchat she noticed you walking away with a guy by your side so then you had to explain the full story in detail. They were happy for you but it was also a semi “I told you so” moment which had you scoffing, you didn’t like defeat and them taunting you only made it worse. Your friends were practically like the sisters you never had, they were constantly looking out for you so if Jungkook was approved by them you figured that had to mean something good. You don’t think they’ve ever met him and if they have then you certainly don’t remember, but given the amount of stories you’ve told them, they have a good enough vision of who he is and what he acts like.
You really didn’t think in a million years you’d be here with your friends at your apartment, admitting you finally like somebody but that’s just life. You never know what’s around the corner, you certainly didn’t expect Jungkook.
Jungkook was on the same page as you, he was telling Jimin all sorts of things about you, what your favorite movie was, your favorite book, food, things to eat, songs—he couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t say he was in love but he was just so infatuated by you, Jimin didn’t seem to mind Jungkook’s chattering as he was his personal wingman after all and this is what he’s always wanted for his younger friend. He loved seeing him happy even if he enjoyed teasing him about it at times.
“You’re obsessed, bro”, Jimin snorted, Jungkook shot him a glare, “I’m not, I just like her a lot. I’ve never felt this way about anyone.”
A few days went by, you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket and you instantly knew who it was, swiping upwards on your screen to open the message as a smile spread across your lips.
kook: can i come over?
kook: i miss you
You replied with a ‘yes’ and then you were sat on your couch awaiting his arrival. Jungkook had been visiting more frequently recently, your feelings for each other were still unknown but your friends most definitely knew, you both had no idea you’d been talking about how much you like one another and yet you still haven’t had the guts to say it upfront.
It wasn’t long until you heard a knock on your front door, you got up to answer and expectedly you were greeted by Jungkook, you stepped aside to welcome him in before heading back over to your place on the couch, offering him the seat beside you. He sat down and the couch slightly dipped from the added weight, he subconsciously wrapped his arm around your shoulders and you inched yourself closer towards him.
“Wanna watch a movie?” You asked as you turned to look up at him, he responded with a small hum, “Sure, do you have Netflix?” You nodded and clicked the Netflix option on your controller before flicking through different movies to watch, you just settled on a random one that seemed funny to you and Jungkook didn’t mind that. You didn’t have to necessarily be talking to him to enjoy his presence, you appreciated just silently cuddling like this on the couch while watching a movie.
You couldn’t help but feel like you were being watched, though, moving your head from your position to gaze up at Jungkook and as you thought, you were correct. He was staring at you and he didn’t bother to look away even after you caught him, you nervously laughed and mumbled out a quiet, “what?”, to which he didn’t answer at first but after a few moments he spoke up.
“You’re just so beautiful, Y/N. And I mean that.” You swallowed harshly at his words, trying to suppress your smile but of course you failed and gave him a wide grin—he wasn’t done yet, though. “Ever since I first laid my eyes on you, I’ve felt things I’ve never felt before and I know it’s taken me awhile to say this but, I do like you.”
You didn’t even know how to respond, the only thing you could think of was to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, which you did.
Jungkook was quick to return it, you could sense his eagerness just by having his lips on yours and you loved it, you fluttered your eyes shut in contentment while deepening the kiss gradually, throwing a leg over his knee and he easily obliged, grabbing onto your thigh to forcefully prop you on top of his lap. Your lips meshed with one another’s perfectly, you let out a small gasp as he sucked on your bottom lip and slipped his tongue inside due to your mouth falling open, you slid your arms from around his neck down to his chest and finally they found a place on his cheeks.
He knitted his eyebrows slightly, pulling back to catch his breath and also mumble out, “Let’s go upstairs, yeah?”
You barely made it inside your room before the door was being slammed shut and Jungkook was using his strength to pull you into his chest, leaning down to reconnect your lips into another messy kiss, you couldn’t get enough of each other. He lead you towards the bed by pushing you back step by step until you eventually stumbled and fell onto the mattress, Jungkook swiftly climbing on top of you with his lips still pressed against yours. His hands roamed your body, feeling every curve he’d been oh so desperate to touch and now he finally was, he finally had you and he wasn’t going to let you go. He’d spent months thinking about you, jerking off to the thought of you, now that you were underneath him he wanted to do everything he’d dreamed of.
Jungkook was the first to break the long lasting kiss, the both of you catching your breaths while he was already in a rush to remove his shirt, impatiently undoing the buttons one by one until he finally managed to slide it down his arms and your thighs were already clenching at just the sight of his toned abs. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, sliding a hand beneath the expanse of your back to lift you up and carefully roll your panties down your legs with the other, your skirt coming off next. You spread your legs for him, causing him to groan softly as he positioned himself in front of you with his face hovering in front of your pussy and lower body almost off the bed. “Been dreaming of this pussy for so long”, he sighed out quietly, “You don’t know how much I’ve craved to be inside of you, Y/N.”
His words made you whimper softly, you were practically begging for him at this point as you eased your pussy closer to his face and he took the hint, burying his face between your thighs and already lapping his tongue over your entire cunt. He stopped at your clit and began teasing it with the tip of his tongue at a slow pace, you whined lowly and arched your back, a hand coming down to tangle within his hair as he worked his mouth along your pussy perfectly.
“You taste so fucking sweet”, he mumbled against your cunt, sliding his tongue between your folds and collecting your essence with it before wrapping his lips around your clit and hollowing his cheeks ever so slightly as he sucked, making your pussy a complete mess. His drool seeped down his chin and landed on different parts of your cunt, meshing with your own slick and making you so unbelievably wet. Jungkook released a breathy moan at your taste, relishing in it every time he brought his tongue back up to meet your clit, his lips continuing to suck before he eventually drew back and slid his ring and middle finger inside of you.
The unexpected action caused your back to arch even higher, his fingers reached parts of you you didn’t know were capable of reaching but Jungkook made it work, curling them on every thrust in while diving back down to continue mercilessly lapping his tongue over your pussy. You were a moaning mess beneath him and you were positive his tongue would make you cum soon enough, your hand desperately grasped at his hair and you unnoticeably pushed him even further into your cunt which made him release a low chuckle.
You lost all composure when Jungkook brought a third finger up, you were so wet he managed to slide it in effortlessly and thrust them all at once in a repetitive rhythm that had you gasping for air, his tongue doing absolute wonders on your clit not making it any easier for you and before you knew it, you were clenching around his digits and cumming hard, your legs shaking intensely for a brief moment.
Jungkook was already in the process of unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants down impatiently, releasing his hard cock, taking himself in his own hand and giving himself a few pumps before sitting upright on the bed, discarding his clothes and kicking them off his ankles completely as he positioned himself in front of you.
“Shit, I need you so bad. I can’t wait any longer.” Jungkook whispered out quietly, a quiet hiss following from the pleasure he was already receiving from stroking his cock at a slow pace.
“Please”, you managed to mumble out, hands weakly coming up to slip your top off and unclip your bra, exposing yourself completely to the man in front of you. His gaze fell darker than it already was, cupping both your tits in his hands and thoroughly massaging them before releasing his grasp to dip his head down and take one of your nipples in his mouth, nuzzling his face against your breast simultaneously while sucking. You bit your lip softly and rested your hand on the back of his head, the other coming down to pump his cock for him which made him growl and draw back.
He gently removed your hand off his cock, if you jerked him off he knew he wouldn’t be able to last long and he wanted to cum inside of you. You thought he was about to enter you until you were abruptly flipped over onto your stomach, you felt a hard spank across your ass which made you dig your nails into the bedsheets and whine quietly.
“Up”, Jungkook commanded, his tone had dropped a few octaves lower which made you excited. You did as he told you, arching your back in the air for him with a sway of your hips that had him clicking his tongue. He rested a hand on your waist for support, inching himself closer to you, he was on his knees behind you and now he was dangerously close because you could feel his tip poking your entrance from behind. You were growing impatient, you were waiting him to slide into you already and—
Your thoughts were cut off as soon as you felt his thick cock filling you up, he had completely bottomed out and shoved himself into you all the way, earning a breathy, loud moan from you. He barely granted you with enough time to adjust to his size before pulling out and slamming back in again, he set this repetitive rhythm of drawing back almost all the way just to shut you up with his dick again and it had your toes curling. He hit all the right spots inside you, his hips rocking forward into yours deeply and his tip reaching your gspot effortlessly, you weren’t sure you were going to last long from how hard and well he was fucking you.
He unexpectedly struck another hard slap against your ass and you let out another needy whine, Jungkook was pounding away at your pussy and you heard him occasionally grunt beneath his breath. “Fuck”, he cursed out, “You feel so fucking good around me, so tight.” You purposely clenched at his words and it made him groan quietly, snapping his hips forward in order to forcefully fuck his way through your walls and all you could do was take it, allowing him to use you as he pleased.
Jungkook brought a hand down between where you were connected and he felt around your clit for a moment before dipping his fingers between your folds and deliberately pressing against it, rubbing your clit in a circular motion and applying pressure to make you feel it properly. The stimulation on your clit and the way his cock was ruining your insides was all too much for you, you felt another orgasm coming on and you were just going to let it happen.
He halted for a moment as he was buried all the way inside of you, teasingly rotating his hips and you swore you almost came on the spot, he proceeded with his reckless pace on your cunt and his fingers continued caressing your clit in that same circular motion and with a few more hard thrusts, you were coming undone within seconds beneath him, your pussy contracting around his cock as another orgasm hits you. Jungkook pulled out slowly and flipped you onto your back again, “Wanna see your pretty face when I cum in you”, he murmured out as he leaned down to connect your lips again, you weren’t even sure if you could call this a kiss from how messy it was as he smothered his lips against your own, his hips driving forward which lead to his cock sinking impossibly deeper into you and before you knew it, he was pounding into your cunt once again.
Jungkook traveled a hand down the expanse of your thighs before grabbing onto one and effortlessly throwing it around his waist, the new angle allowing him to thrust further into you, you moaned weakly against his lips as he quietly shushed you and gave you rough, senseless strokes. He released a string of curses as he felt his own high approaching, sitting upright and settling both hands on your waist instead, leaving your leg to dangle around his hips without any support, you weren’t sure if you could keep it up for much longer.
His head hung low, his jaw clenching tightly to suppress the loud moan aching to escape his throat, giving you precisely harder and deeper thrusts until a particular one had him reaching his high, finally spilling his cum inside your pussy with a dragged out, pleasured sigh. He felt himself gradually softening, pulling out before curling his finger in a ‘come here’ motion and you took the hint, crawling towards him on your knees, “Clean me up, baby.”
You wrapped your lips around his tip and made sure to drain the remains of his cum out, lapping them up with your tongue and swallowing all of it. You earned a breathless ‘good girl’ from him, you didn’t stop your movements on his dick and you even went as far as to push your head further down, almost turning it into a blowjob until he stopped you and collapsed beside you on the bed.
“I’m gonna need awhile to recover from that.” Jungkook joked, you giggled softly and laid next to him, hugging his larger body against yours and making yourself comfortable in his arms as he wrapped his around your shoulders like he always does.
“Y/N?” Jungkook spoke out, you hummed in question and he hesitantly continued after a small pause, “I think after that, it’s only right if I ask you the question.”
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
The wide grin on your face was enough of an answer to him, but he still felt relieved when he heard you say, “Of course I will, dummy.”
You reached up to give him a peck on the lips before resting your head against his shoulder, you both dozed off like that, cradled in each other’s arms and now official.
You never would’ve thought you’d end up in this situation.
But one thing you do know, is that you love Jungkook.
And Jungkook loves you.
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awearywritersworld · 5 months
Text
i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you
sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist
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"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.
"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."
"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."
you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"
"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."
"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.
"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."
with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.
you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.
as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.
your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).
he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"
"nothing," you huff.
"don't be a brat."
you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."
"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."
he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.
when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.
"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."
"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"
you scoff. "well you've got me there."
a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."
you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.
wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."
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you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."
he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.
"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."
"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."
"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."
"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."
"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."
"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."
you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.
as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.
you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.
the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.
"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.
after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.
"let's sit here for a little while."
he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.
as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.
sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.
"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.
"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.
his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.
when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.
"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.
your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.
truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.
no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.
the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.
so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"
his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"
some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.
"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.
he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.
"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."
and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.
"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."
ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."
the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."
you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."
then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.
you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.
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when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.
you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"
as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."
"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"
"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.
"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."
"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."
before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"
he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."
"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.
gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"
"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."
"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."
gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"
yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.
his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.
having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.
leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"
"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"
"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."
gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.
he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"
yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."
"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."
a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"
megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"
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when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.
"ta ta, hooligans!"
you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.
looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.
he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.
"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."
"i'd rather you didn't."
you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."
he hums. "how much did you drink?"
"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."
he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."
"tha's correct, yes."
unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."
you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.
pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.
"tuck me in?" you request.
sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.
he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.
instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."
his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.
but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."
"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."
your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.
love?
what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.
suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:
"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."
rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?
were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?
is that what love is?
could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?
does the definition of love lie in those questions?
sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.
he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.
he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.
so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?
gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.
the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged
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r3ynah · 3 months
Text
What's wrong with clones? what's wrong with me?
Dani was greatful for her mom, she was greatful that he was supportive and living when she first met him, and even after the fight she was happy that Danny didn't throw her away with hatred in his eyes, she would've understand it nonetheless, just imagine someone assaulting your DNA to make a copy of you? it was traumatizing or the both parties, based on experience.
But if it wasn't for Danny, she wouldn't be here at this place were she stands. It has been about 20 years since she was born, and her mom step backed from heroism and passed it down to her which she accepted with pride. Her mom deserves a break.
And without her she wouldn't be part of the Justice League, and wouldn't be meeting all this amazing people, they have loved dani and took care of her ever since she joined. and she was happy. what more could she ask for? well she was a bit lonely afterall.. and that was selfish of her, she already have her mom, her friends, what else could she even ask for?
__
Dani, Hero name Wraith, walked down the halls of the watchtower when she heard a ruckus in one of the meeting rooms, letting her curiosity get the best of her she took a peek in the room, where she found a bunch of Heroes surrounding a boy that looks a little too much like Superman. and Superman in the corner holding his head in stress? Agony? Dani doesn't know.
She stepped into the room, only for Wonder woman to notice her, She gave Dani a wave which she returned with a smile, she moved near Wonder woman in curiosity and asked: "What's going on? why's the Adults surrounding a kid?"
Wonder woman looked at her with a stare she didn't understand, before she answered. "He's a clone of Superman, we found him trying to kill the man, just last week, and this is the first time he's let out." She explained while pointing at the kid.
Dani let out a gasp of delight, "Really? Holy shit. I got to talk to the kid!" Before Diana could stop the girl she was already at the new clone's side, pushing the other heroes away.
The Clone angrly stared at the new person, infront of him. "What you'll interrogate me too?."
"What? Why would you think that?" Dani giggled as she circled the boy, her eyes darting back and forward to superman and the boy to see the similarities. "Ancients, you really look like Superman, what's wrong with you?"
"What do you mean by that?" The kid asked very confused.
"I mean you're healthy and fine, i don't get why the league is going haywire towards you." Wraith chuckled, as she floated upside down infront of the kid.
Silence embraced the room, as the sound of a steel chair echoed throughout the room.
"Didn't you hear what Wonder Woman said Wraith?" Superman walked big steps towards the two making other heroes take a step back, from the man of steel. "It's a clone."
"okay, Okay, Wait i feel i said something wrong?" Dani returned to her normal position, making sure she's not levitating upside anymore as she looked at older man infront of her in confusion. "What's the problem here?"
The room was quiet huh that was unusual with, there was a thick atmosphere that you can cut it with a knife.
"The problem? This is the problem." Superman angrily stated as he pointed at the kid, who looked ready to fight the man infront of him any second now.
"What? superman i don't get its just a clone and a child-" Wraith was cut off rudely. by the man infront of him.
"Ofcourse you don't get it, you don't get how it feels to be cloned, you don't get how traumatizing it is for your DNA to be stolen, That is not a child." Superman snapped, making Dani take a step back. "So stop acting like its a normal kid, that thing will never be like us, because its a mistake created by some lousy villain, who tried to stop and kill me, clones don't deserve love nor respect, and they certainly don't deserve families. Now Stop acting like you get it."
Silence, surrounded the room as Superman finished letting his anger out at Wraith who stared at him wide eyed confusion seen her face, she looked at her peers who only looked apologetic and those who looked down the floor and then there was batman
she shifted her gaze towards the, boy who she can see was trembling, The boy was crying. oh no. no. please don't cry.
"I get it." Wraith stated, keeping her ground, only babies cry she wasn't a baby now, she grew out of that phase.
She returned her gaze back at Superman who still was looking at her. it really looked like he didn't mean to snap at her. But that shit Hurt who knew he had it him, is this what Danny felt when he found out about her, was he in reality sick of her? no. No. Danny loved her, he said so himself.
"Wraith please no-" Wonder woman, called out trying not to get the girl in more trouble.
"No. I get it. I'm really sorry for you Superman, and how you got traumatized by some of your DNA getting stollen, I am really. But with all due respect you can't treat him like a thing, because he's a clone." Wraith spoke back, now more confident than ever. the kid perked up from this and raised his head, he was really crying.
"And what do you know about that? Wraith." Oh no Hero names, She knew she struck a nerve, Superman was back at being angry.
"What I know, is that you're right, clones don't deserve love and respect, clones don't deserve anyone because all they do is hurt and destroy." For a second everyone thought Wraith changed sides. Wraith glared at superman, he wanted her to agree with him, oh she'll agree with him alright. "Clones like me, don't deserve anything."
"What?"
Everyone in the room was shocked but to scared to speak, afraid to start something.
"Thank you, Superman. For showing me that I didn't deserve my mom, Because to be honest you're fucking right, all I did for my mom was pain and agony." Dani was now raising her voice, at the man infront of her.
"You're a clone?" Superman managed to ask, his eyebrows almost touching his hairline.
"Hell yeah, And you know what age he got me. Fourteen, He became my mom at the age of fourteen, he took care of me at the age of fourteen, he loved me like his own daughter at the age of fourteen" Wraith laughed out loud, tears threatening to stream down her face. "You know what's funny superman? I tried to also murder him, I tried to also kill my template. And yet he took me in, and said that it wasn't my fault. it wasn't my fault that i was born, It was never my fault, he comforted me as i cried to him about my other brothers who i watched slowly die and melt apart infront of my eyes, he didn't hate, he didn't isolate, he only loved and cared."
Wraith was now crying. as she gritted her teeth.
"Wrait-"
"you we're right. I didn't deserve my mom. if he had just killed me from the start, he would've been more happy and not worry about me, My mom is the kindest being in the world in my own eyes, and he'd done everything for me ever since he was fourteen." Dani looked down at the ground, with clenched hands. "I was born as a six years old, but in reality i was only two months old. it's funny how im the same age right now when my mom first had me. My body maybe 20, but my brain is 14, keep that in mind Superman."
She looked around her peers, but couldn't see anyone but her reflection in those glass walls, she's crying, she didn't want to cry. "You've been hating on that kid, but Superman let me remind you that kid." She looked at the child who was still sitting on the chair but now with a look of confusion, eyes red from crying. "Is only a few months old despite its physical appearance, you've been hating on a newborn baby, like a deadbeat dad, and that's just sad."
Dani can hear a snort in the background. She swore that sounded like her mom.
Superman looked defeated and guilty, Dani was tired she wanted to cry, in the arms of her mom, but she can't leave the other kid here, so she made a rash decision. "If you don't want him, I'll take him."
Protest engulfed the meeting room, but Dani didn't care, she passed Superman and headed towards the black haired kids, direction. "Wanna come with me?" she asked, while having her hand out for him to take.
The kid looked at her hand, before grabbing it. Dani smiled and summoned a portal, she took the kid with her, her mother's not gonna like this and she might take a break from JL a couple of months, Oh well its all worth it.
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evilminji · 2 months
Text
Okay, but... now I'm wondering >.>
@the-witchhunter We talked about Danny being Morningstar's feral, probably engineering oils and ectoplasmic goo covered, mad scientist/himbo hybrid (attack) purse dog. His special lil guy.
But!
I seek your Knowledge(TM).
From second hand accounts? He seems to HATE the hypocrisy. The blaming HIM for humanity's own choices. The rat race and endless song n dance of "Righteous Good VS. Cartoonish Evil". Because it let's humanity paint themselves the helpless victims. Because it's all surface level. Because it is not so easy to escape the ugliness of your Sins, yet they keep trying to scapegoat him.
Fuck um.
He was tired of it.
But? He still has CONSIDERABLE POWER. It's probably written down. And the Ring Of Rage? Is proooobably not the loveliest of artifacts? I imagine, like the Crown, it's NOT leaving Danny alone. One of those "we don't CARE if there is no throne left to sit upon, you WILL wear us, as King" sort of systems.
It genuinely would not and DOES NOT matter, if not a single soul in all the Zone bows to him. Did he defeat the previous holder of their Right To Rulership? Yes or No.
If No, fuck off.
If Yes, new monarch.
Is it hurting him? Not the rings problem. Nor the Crown's. Heavy is the weight, etc etc. But! DANNY would certainly care. He is... is ANGRY all the time now. Has no idea who would even MAKE this bullshit ring. Why JUST Rage? Yeah, it makes ghosts stronger, but at what COST?
He can't even get rid of it!
......by himself.
Luckily, he's still clear headed enough to know that he's NOT in this by himself. And it's amazing what "mom, dad, this ring is trying to drive me insane. Help me" in a terrified and tearful voice, can brush over. No one threatens their baby and all that.
It would honestly be hilarious, seeing the extended Fenton clan decend like LOCUSTS on Pariahs Keep, searching for clues, terrifying the local ghosts, if... if he wasn't so tired.
God he's so tired.
It's Aunt Alecia who... "politely encourages" a passing scholar to lend them the book they need. Took the poor sucker right out of the sky. Guy never stood a chance. RIP.
He learns he has to head..... over? Like... 27 that-ish way, then up. Huh. 27 WHAT?
Realities, apparently. He's in the wrong bundle. Branch? Neighborhood? Eh. Clan Fenton rolls back out, he packs his bags, and hilariously enough? Goes off to the devils night club. Hopes he likes rings. Or hates them.
Thankfully, being "king" means the Zone? Kinda... humors him? Like... it still has RULES(tm). He can... can FEEL that now. But it's willing to bend some for him, if he asks. And anything NOT against the rules? If it's in the right mood? He need only ask. It's weird. Being suddenly so powerful, yet NOT, at the same time.
Cause none of it's his.
All he has is the Zone's attention. The ability to ask pretty please. If you don't mind. And then? The highways between... ALL will just? Shift and change for him. He can see how it went to Pariah's head. The Zone is pretty agreeable. Is by nature Amoral, cause it's not a Being, it's... well, it's the Zone.
And everyone wants him to ask things. Do things. Demand this or that. Use this power.
Maybe he doesn't WANT too! Maybe he didn't WANT to be king! Doesn't he have the right to say NO? To refuse? Why do they think he OWES them service? An eternity of politics and people trying to kill him, for something he never wanted in the FIRST PLACE.
He's so tired.
The nightclub's pretty cool.
So he comes to ask, politely of course, cause the guy's probably busy, if Morningstar could... dunno, fix or destroy it? Want a ring, maybe? Also he heard you MADE the stars. Huge fan of all of that. Can I ask about the process? Or are you in the middle of something?
And? Lucifer? Turns around, from where he's Leaning Seductive Yet Elegantly(tm) to see... scrawny. Tiny corpse child. No... half? Corpse? Alive. Dying. Alive yet dying. Huh. Well, that is different. And here he didn't think he'd get see anything NEW. You, child, are NOT a zombie. What are you?
Halfa.
I have no idea what that is. What do you want?
He gets shown the ugliest, crudest, peice of shit ring imaginable. A genuine foul little curse. Really stinks up the place. He destroys it, obviously. This club has STANDARDS. Hope that wasn't important?
Kid just smiles the biggest fangy lil grin. No. No it was not.
Obvious, lie, but cute lil teeth. He'll allow it.
He gets dragged into talking about the stars. And talking. And talking. Mostly bragging and explaining. Kid hangs off his every word. Follows him around as he makes his rounds. Asks good questions. Completely focused, dispite the booze and barely dressed dancing all around him.
Lucifer can't help notice the crown.
Lovely little thing. Space ice and star dust, glittering like jewels and light catching the mist. If he remembers right... that one iiiiiis..... not Limbo, it's.... Zone! That crown is the Zone, it changes to suit the wearer. He recognizes the vibe. Awfully young, aren't you?
And.... it all burst forth. He didn't even need to press. Use persuasive words and honeyed tones. Like an inflamed, festering wound. The merest brush is enough to spill everything.
Negligence, greed, blood lust. Bigotry and xenophobia. A tyrants endless quest for power. Ah, humans. They truly don't change do they? Realities away, dead or alive. Now they're harrasing a child. He honestly looks miserable. Whereas just a moment before, listening to Lucifer talk about his work on the stars, his soul practically GLOWED with light. A tiny little star unto himself.
.......maybe it's the big ol "I'm you BIGGEST FAN" eyes. The sad wet cat aura. Perhaps the scrawny "could snap you like a twig" teenager, all elbows and knees. The fact he is, in fact, NOT human; for all that he once was. But?? The kid? Is... not terrible company.
He'd even go so far as to say? It's like having a pet intern.
He can sleep on the couch.
Tell you what, you stay here? I'll keep taking about stars and YOU can do the chores I don't feel like doing. I'll take care of you and all that.
And Danny? Honestly was sold at the word "stars" but? This sounds like a phenomenally terrible idea... and he has yet to meet one of THOSE he hasn't made out sloppy still with, so deal! But as a minor, that DOES make you his new gaurdian for the next four-ish years. He's legally obligated to finish schooling.
Ah.
.....well shit.
(Just? Local stressed 14-15 year old Ghost King does RESPONSIBILE thing and finds Adultier Adult. With more qualified Adult powers. Unfortunately for everyone, the adult is Lucifer Morningstar, night club owner. Even MORE Unfortunately, said ghost kind has pack bonded with the Nice Star Man, who saved him from the Bad Ring, and effectively offered to let him crash on his swanky couchs.
Now Morningstar has to? Somewhat VAGUELY pretend he gives a shit local schooling system, as he puts his charge INTO it. Actively giving waking terrors to the magical community. What evil plot is afoot? Where did he get this tiny minor death god? What is his end goal FOR said child?
No one knooooows~
But Lucifer is just doing this cause he's a Being of his word. He hates the tedious minor chores he'll be foisting off onto Danny. And? Most importantly? Look at that face. *shoujo sparkly eyes of Star Sempai Noticed Me!* it's like having a golden retriever puppy. Ffs he has STANDARDS.)
(It'd be hilarious to watch the hostile 5th dimensional chess DC characters have going on in the background, all while? Danny is like? Man! Isn't this universe GREAT? Everyone here is so CHILL! And nice to me! I'm so relaxed now! Finally, I can finish my education in peace.)
@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation
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chaosandmarigolds · 12 days
Text
Lil bit of Pre-K angst? comin right up!! (i don't know what im doing lol??? a short little one part of a dibble dabble, mentions of injury, car accidents, drunk driving death,
It was a promise.
He had knelt down to Olivers level, telling him that he would come back to him. He told the sobbing child that nothing would happen to him, he told Oliver that he would be fine.
Why didn't he think about Oliver?
How could he have not thought about Oliver?
How could he have not worried about you?
The call had knocked the wind out of him, he didn't even realize he was the emergency contact on Oliver's list beside you. The mission wasn't even dangerous it was stupid- a conference in a city a few towns over and he had...
"Is this a.. Mister Simon Riley?"
Simon looks up from the file he had been reading over, seeing Kyle and Johnny's eyes look up at him from the sudden stiffening of his posture.
"Yeah?"
"Mister Riley, unfortunately your wife and son-"
"M-my what?"
If his blood wasn't cold enough it certainly was when he heard your name followed by Oliver's, and he swore that everything began to slow. His feet where moving on their own, leaving Johnny and the team without an answer.
Everything was in slow motion, expect him.
a four-hour drive cut into one and a half. Two police cars tried to chase him on the freeway but he didn't care, easy to lose.
He had to pry the details out of the nurse, yet all she would simply say is that it was a group of teenagers 'pre-gaming' for a party, club hopping- and it was a Friday and fridays are when you take Oliver to his swimming lessons and then go get ice cream at the place down town-
She said you and Oliver were lucky to be alive, not quite stable, and that 'luckily' no one else was hurt.
Simon Riley was many things, he had cried enough times to make anyone pity him. Nor was he religious, for no God would forsake him as cruelly as he had been.
Yet that night, he cried tears and prayed to whatever God there was for a miracle.
(Anyway. that's it <<<3 I hope that works because I'm not super used to writing sad stuff, but it was fun to do! Feed back and comments make my day!)
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mydearzero · 8 months
Note
bday sex w/ spencer?
thanks for the request! ♡♡
Hunger | Spencer Reid x Reader
MASTERLIST
18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Summary: Penelope has decided enough is enough and throws Spencer a small birthday celebration. Your only duty was to pick up the cake. How could you have known the bakery would give you the wrong one? It's the first time you notice something off about Spencer. He has this look in his eyes you couldn't place, nor shake.
Contents: NO Y/N, fem!Reader, BAU!reader, co-workers, friends to lovers, smut, oral sex (f rec), fingering, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (p in v), creampie, fluffy really, If I missed any warnings please tell me!
3.7K words
take a shot every time I say 'look'. This is also the second fic in a row where I mention he keeps his socks on during sex. idk why. he just seems the type, I suppose. it wasn't a conscious choice I made, it just happened - nik
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"And you're picking up the cake, right?" Penelope's voice flooded through the speakers of your car. You chuckled at her frantic behaviour. 
"Yes, Penelope. I'm on my way to Spencer's now. Don't you worry your pretty little head about it." 
After Spencer hadn't properly celebrated his birthday several years in a row, she insisted on throwing him a small party. She'd dragged you along in her shenanigans. 
Which is why there was currently a nondescript white box on the passenger seat of your car. You hadn't dared to open it, even to have a peek. Penelope would have your head if it spoiled in any way.
"Don't you dare drop it! I mean it!" She hung up after her empty threat. 
You drove into the parking garage and got out of the car. You walked around and picked up the cake with the utmost care, placing it on the roof and closing the door. You held the cake with both hands and took it to the apartment building. 
Penelope met you at the door, taking the box from your hands, putting it in the fridge and ushering you to 'Go sit somewhere and act normal!' 
"Calm down, Garcia. Derek's keeping him until at least 19:30. You'll be fine," JJ interjected. You turned to her, sharing a knowing look. If there was anything to love about Penelope, and believe me, there was a lot, then it was her complete devotion and commitment to make her friends happy. 
She got everything ready in the living room. Balloons, garlands, presents, the entire childhood dream. Derek gave Garcia a heads-up that they were bound to arrive any minute now. 
You walked into the kitchen and got the cake out of the fridge. You grabbed some plates, forks and knives and took everything to the living room. 
Spencer wasn't an idiot. He knew when Morgan was holding him hostage from his own apartment, his coworkers must've been planning something for his birthday. 
"Oh, I wonder what we'll find when we open the door," Spencer's joking voice could be heard through the door. The sound of keys entering the lock brought a large smile to your face. 
When he finally got to walk in the door, his suspicions were confirmed. 
The duo joined everybody eagerly awaiting the birthday boy. Penelope looked like she could implode from the excitement. You were sure that if you had enhanced vision, you'd be able to see her vibrate on the spot.
"Surprise!" 
Spencer was grinning from ear to ear. Derek clapped him on the back and guided him into the group. 
Penelope sat Spencer on the grandpa chair she'd situated in the middle of the room, placing a party hat on his head. She'd insisted on them. Even Hotch could not look stoic and rigid with the polka-dotted cone placed on his head. 
You walked from the commotion to go put the candles on the cake. You opened the candles, looked for the lighter and finally breached the seal on the white box holding the cake. The sight before you had you perplexed.
Happy Birthday Sexy!
Right. The hot pink cake with white frosting was most certainly not the one intended for Spencer. You let out an uneasy laugh and placed the candles anyway. Cake is cake, I guess. 
And it's not wrong. 
You lit the candles and walked over just as the others started belting their hearts out. Spencer cringed awkwardly like you're supposed to when people sing you Happy Birthday. You sought panicked eye contact with Penelope but to no avail. She was busy snapping pictures of the birthday boy from every angle. 
Spencer locked eyes with you as you set the cake down in front of him. Derek barked a laugh, obviously the first one to notice the mishap. "Way to be bold, mama!" 
Spencer gave him a confused glance before turning his eyes to the cake, mouth opening and closing a couple of times due to a loss of words. 
"Well, they do say "Aging like fine wine' for a reason," Emily snorted.
"What!? That's not the right cake!" Penelope exclaimed, turning to you. You gave her an apologetic expression, shrugging your shoulders. 
"They must've given me the wrong one at the bakery! I didn't want to mess it up, so I left the box closed. I'm sorry, Penelope. But hey, I'm sure it'll taste just fine." 
You cut into the cake and dealt out the slices. You contemplated giving the slice reading just the word 'Sexy' to Spencer and gave in. It couldn't do any harm. You brought it to him with a crude attempt at a wink. The man of the hour turned red, if only slightly. He took the cake, thanked you and tentatively tasted the frosting, eyes lighting up in delight. 
You swiped a finger through the frosting, putting it in your mouth and tasting it. You nearly had to stop yourself from wincing. My God, that's sweet. But Spencer seemed to love it, which was the crucial part. 
You caught his gaze, finger still resting between your lips. Your heart skipped a beat as an unreadable expression on his face before he ironed it out with a smile, raising his plate in a toast. You raised yours back, but your heart wasn't in it. 'What the hell was that?' You wondered as you took a proper bite of the overly sweet cake. 
Spencer's gaze had been on your face, his eyebrows furrowed in what seemed like worry. His mouth had been slightly agape. But it was his eyes that struck you. His pupils were dilated as they seemed to be filled with contemplation. 
The expression stuck with you. It wasn't one you'd seen before, not from Spencer. You tried to come up with the right words to describe it throughout the party. 
Emily handed you a drink, toasting to another year with Spencer. 
Intrigued? 
Penelope whispers in your ear, asking what you'd gotten Spencer as a present. 
Calculating, maybe? 
Rossi tells a life story, wishing Spencer a bright future with many similar experiences. 
It was almost ambitious. Or eager, perhaps. 
Whatever it was, it was burned into your brain. What made it so compelling was that Spencer clearly hadn't wanted you to see it, seeing how he schooled his expression the second he'd realized you were watching. 
You nursed your drink as your coworkers started trickling out of the apartment one by one. You shamelessly watched Spencer as he was engrossed in an animated conversation with Penelope. Emily took a seat next to you, following your gaze to the enthusiastic duo. 
She didn't have to speak a word. Years as colleagues and friends were bound to create an implicit form of communication. Add a bunch of profilers, and much went unspoken. You sighed and leaned against the cushions. 
"I don't want to hear it, Prentiss." 
She laughed fondly. "I'm just saying, I'm gonna be driving Penelope home soon. Just humour me and talk to him about it." 
"There's nothing to talk about," you dismissed. You looked down at your drink, refusing to meet her eye. 
"You really haven't been present at all tonight. What's got you in your head?" Emily put a hand on your shoulder. 
"It's nothing to be worried about, Em. I'm just overthinking. He gave me this look earlier, and it's frustrating me that I can't figure out what it meant," you shrugged. 
Emily looked contemplative. "He's been watching you, you know. Not just tonight. It's been a while since I've noticed, though he's really ramped it up." 
"What do you mean?" You wondered genuinely. 
"I don't know..." Emily started. "He just has this look on his face when he thinks nobody's watching. Believe me, you can ask JJ about it. She's seen it, too. We've talked about it." 
"What kind of look?" You asked, curious if it could've been the same thing you spotted earlier tonight. 
"I can't really describe it. I'd almost call it... Greed? Maybe? It's a bit off-putting if you ask me. It's only you, though." Emily shrugged, clearly holding back on her explanation. She seemingly weighed her options before continuing. 
"You want to know what I think, profiler to profiler?" Emily finally broke. You urged her to continue. 
"Objectively speaking, and only looking at the facts, I think it can only be described as hunger." The tone of her voice implied that it wasn't a silly implication she was making for the fun of it. 
"Hunger?" You asked, glancing at Spencer from the corner of your eye. 
"Yeah, hunger. And not the food kind." 
You choked on your drink at the implication. "Are you out of your mind? We're at his house, Emily!" You whisper-shouted. 
"Yeah, well, whether I tell you here or at the office, the jet, or any other place, the man looks at you like he's starved. You have desire, and then you have this. It's concerning, really."
Of all the things it could've been, hunger wouldn't have been your first guess. Emily sure picked a convoluted way of telling you he undressed you with his mind on the daily, according to her.  
You panicked a little when Emily got up from the couch, asking Penelope if she was ready to go home. You glared daggers at her. Don't leave me here with him! Not after what you said. 
You could make your exit now, but you'd seem too eager to 'have an out' if you went with them. 
Spencer thanked Penelope generously for the party. He was genuinely appreciative of all the thought and effort put into it. You bid your goodbyes to the girls, and with that, you were alone with Spencer. 
"Hi," he spoke softly, sitting opposite you on the couch. 
"Hey," you replied, laughing a little. You took a sip of your drink, which had gone flat. You put it on the table and turned back to Spencer. There it was again, the look. 
He observed every crevice of your face as you did his. Much like with Emily, your communication with Spencer often went unspoken. But you couldn't read him, and it bothered you. 
"What's with that look?" You finally dared to ask, ignoring Emily's implication. 
His eyebrows furrowed. "What look?" 
"The one you gave me just now. And earlier, after I gave you your cake. According to Emily, it's not the first time." 
"I don't know what you're talking about." He didn't meet your eye, opting to pick at the threads of the couch. It was a lame attempt at deflection.
"Don't bullshit me, Spencer. You look like you want to eat me alive." 
Spencer bit his lip and seemingly calculated every possible outcome of the conversation. He shook his head in defeat, toying with his fingers. You awaited his answer, tension rising in your stomach.
"I guess that's one way to put it," he finally sighed, meeting your gaze. His eyes were intense. After his admission, you finally found the correct adjective.
Lust. 
Without a thought, you threw your body forward, putting your hands on the side of his face and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you back with a sense of desperation. Your hands went up to his hair, tugging experimentally. A low groan met your ears as Spencer pulled away. 
"Are you 100% sure about this? I don't think I can go back to how things used to be if we continue," Spencer admitted, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. You leaned against it and closed your eyes, slowly nodding. 
"Yeah, Spencer. I want this, want you." He searched your expression for doubt or uncertainty, but only found conviction. 
He nodded. "Okay. Okay, lie back," he motioned to the armrest behind you. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Spencer noticed your questioning face and ran his fingers over your scalp, moving to speak into your ear. "So I can eat that pretty pussy of yours." 
Your breath hitched, scrambling to lie back as he'd instructed. Spencer's hands made quick work of your bottoms, leaving you exposed. You brought a hand to your face and closed your legs in embarrassment. 
"Hey, none of that. Let me see you," Spencer urged. You silently complied, opening your thighs and letting Spencer rest between them. He let out a soft moan at the sight of you already dripping. 
"Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous." Spencer complimented before running two fingers through your folds and collecting the fluid. He held them up, glistening in the dim light. He brought them up to your mouth. You didn't need any instructions, hesitantly opening up and sucking them in. 
Spencer groaned at the sensation of your tongue swirling around his fingers, feeling his cock quickly come to life after having been half-hard all night. You sighed in satisfaction at the tent forming in his slacks. 
"Couldn't think straight when I saw you try that icing. Looked so good sucking on your finger like that," Spencer revealed. So that's what the look had been for. 
He took his fingers from your mouth and brought them back down, pushing both inside without further preparation. He pumped them a couple times, trying to find the right angle. A low moan fell from your lips when he found it. Spencer grinned, adding his other hand to rub at your clit. 
"I think this is my new favourite look on you," he murmured. He moved his body back on the couch, bringing his face between your legs. He placed a string of small pecks on your inner thigh, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. 
You couldn't help but exclaim when his tongue finally licked an exploratory stripe between your folds. "Shit, Spencer!" 
He ate you out like a man starved, gazing up through his lashes to watch your face contort in pleasure. Your hands searched for something to steady yourself, finally finding their resting place in his mop of gorgeous curls. 
When he sucked harshly on your clit, your fingers clenched instantly, tugging at his hair harshly. "Fuck, Spencer, oh my God, don't stop." 
You felt him moan against your clit, head tilting towards your grip. He continued licking and sucking every good spot while you realized he enjoyed having your fingers yanking at the messy strands.
"Hmm, just as sweet as that cake, if not more." The feeling of his moans against you was a foreign, albeit welcome, one. You quickly felt yourself get closer, tugging his hair and pulling him impossibly close. You needed more.   
"Fuck, Spencer. If you don't stop, I'm gonna come," you let him know. Spencer had a devilish smile, increasing his speed. He added a finger back inside and curled it just right. 
"Shit, just like that. Don't stop, please, don't stop," you begged. 
"Come for me," Spencer spoke, intent on having you finish on his face. You felt your toes curl and legs tense. Spencer's head was the only thing keeping them open. 
"Spencer!" You moaned as you rode out your high on his tongue. Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath. Your legs felt numb as Spencer got up from between them. 
"You're wearing too many clothes," he decided, helping you tug your shirt over your head. 
"Well, what about you? You're fully dressed, Pretty Boy," you motioned towards his body. He shrugged and took off his vest before unhurriedly unbuttoning his shirt. You put your head on the armrest as you enjoyed the show. He smiled at your antics, humming Marvin Gaye's ' Let's Get It On' before carelessly throwing his shirt to the floor. 
He continued humming the song as he undid his belt. You bit your lip, raising an eyebrow at him to continue. He shook his head as he chuckled, tugging his pants down. You smirked at the sight of the tent in his black boxers. 
"You're not gonna take your socks off?" You looked towards his feet, clad in one hot pink and one neon green sock. 
"Shut up, my feet get cold easily." Spencer pleaded. You held up your hands in mock defence. 
You watched as his hands reached for the hem of his boxers. You stopped him, sitting up and hooking your fingers under the elastic. You looked up at him as you slowly tugged them down, freeing his cock. It was achingly hard, precum already collecting at the tip. He removed the boxers and softly pushed your back against the soft cushions. 
He leaned over you, putting his hands beside your head. He leaned down and placed a tender kiss on your lips. He grinned, and you felt love surge through your body at the admiration on his face. 
"Do you want to know what I wished for when I blew out my candles?" He asked, placing kisses down your jawline. 
"If you say you wished for me, I'm gonna have to get all the vegans out of your vicinity because that's so chees- Oh, fuck" Spencer cut your joke off by sucking on your neck, under your ear. 
"Hmm, I guess I won't tell you, then," Spencer threatened, reaching behind your back to undo your bra. He took the straps off your shoulders and down your arms, throwing the bra in the same direction he'd thrown his shirt. 
"No, tell me. What did you wish for," you urged. Spencer looked down, admiring your figure.
"This, you, under me, to be specific. Thought it would've made a very nice sight, and I was definitely right," he grinned, softly kneading your breast. He placed another kiss on your lips, and you were convinced you could get drunk on just that. 
Spencer bent further down, finally bringing your hips together. He ground down, and you winced, still sensitive from your orgasm. It felt too good, though. To finally have him where you wanted him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and brought his lips to your roughly, kissing him with desperation. 
Spencer reciprocated, grinding his hips and moaning into your mouth. You pulled away to speak. "Please, Spence. Need you inside." 
"Protection?" He questioned, moving his mouth back to your neck and sucking feverishly. You shook your head. "Don't care. Need you now." 
"Good, because I don't have any in the house." Spencer groaned, taking his cock in his hand and lining himself up with your entrance. He pushed the tip inside, and you had to take a deep breath before he continued. 
"Shit, Spence. So big. Fuck, you're really full of surprises, aren't you?"
"Hmm, there's more where that came from," Spencer joked, groaning when he bottomed out. He allowed you to readjust, not being used to having anything his size inside of you. You brought your hands to his shoulders, fingernails gradually digging into his skin when you nodded at him to move. 
"Feel so good around me, f-fuck," Spencer moaned, closing his eyes. He slowly started moving. His hips snapped forwards, sending his cock deep inside of you. 
"Oh, fuck, oh my God," you moaned deeply.
"Perfect fit," Spencer sighed. "Like you were made just for me." His pace picked up as desperation set in. 
"J-just for you, Spence," you agreed. You wrapped your legs around his waist. The new angle made you throw your head back against the couch. 
Spencer trailed a hand down to your clit, rubbing in tandem with his thrusts. You wrapped your arms back around his neck and tugged him close, desperate to feel his lips again. You could understand how people got addicted if this is what it felt like all the time. You wanted to spend the rest of eternity with his mouth on yours. 
"So pretty. Had to have you. You've been driving me crazy for months," Spencer's voice was strained with effort as he spoke. 
"What do you think about me, doc? When you kept looking at me like that, kept finding subtle ways to touch me. I was going insane." 
Spencer smiled as the movement of his hips sped up. Your moans got higher in pitch. His breathing became laboured, losing himself in the pleasure. 
Moans of "So good," and "Fuck," joined your name in falling off his lips repeatedly. If there was any sound you could be met with in heaven, it would be Spencer moaning your name in pure bliss. 
"O-Oh, Spencer, please," you begged, unsure what for. You just needed more of him. Needed him closer. 
"Fuck, oh my, fuck-" Spencer sighed. His pace was frenzied, cock feeling so fucking good. 
"I-I'm close- Spencer," you informed him, eyes squeezing shut. The hand on your clit increased it's speed. You couldn't believe you were so close to coming so soon after your first orgasm. 
"Wanna cum inside you. Can I please cum inside you?" Spencer asked, groaning at the idea of you dripping with his cum. 
"Yeah, yeah, fuck. Please, cum inside me. Wanna feel you, shit, Spencer!" You moaned. 
 "O-oh," Spencer's hips stuttered as he exclaimed your name in a loud moan. The sensation of his cock pulsing sent you over the edge yourself, joining him in his climax. 
He thrust inside lazily a few more times, riding out his high, before slowly pulling out. You felt empty without him, grimacing at the loss of contact. Spencer leaned down and pecked your lips before getting off the couch and walking to the bathroom.  
He returned with a warm washcloth and a towel. He helped you clean up, all while kissing you everywhere he deemed fit. He ushered you to go pee, laughing at your wobbly legs. You threw a pillow at him for that. 
When you were both clean, he offered you a big, loose shirt to sleep in. You grinned at the implication. He hadn't even hesitated. Needn't even ask if you wanted to stay over. 
You tucked yourself under his cold sheets. He soon joined you, wrapping his arms around you and tugging you close. Spencer Reid, notoriously weird with any physical affection, seemed like an entirely different person once you allowed him to love you. And God, were you going to allow him to love you. 
"You know, it's still my birthday in Alaska," Spencer spoke when you were almost asleep. You snorted. "Good night, Spencer." 
"Good night." You could hear the smile in his voice.
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 9 months
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Derek and shy!reader maybe? Meeting the team for the first time and none of them are expecting Derek's partner to be standing half-hidden behind him, shyly waving at them instead of saying anything
thank you for ur request! fem!reader
"So what's the deal?" Emily asks Penelope, licking the stem of her paper umbrella dry before dropping it onto a napkin. "He's suddenly going steady?" 
"Can you call five months sudden?" Rossi asks. 
Hotch nudges him. 
"What?" Rossi asks. "Can you? Five months is a long time." 
"And that's why you had to send Christmas cards to three different divorce lawyers this year," Emily says. 
Emily has a penchant for saying the occasional brazen comment, but JJ confiscates her friend's margarita anyways, before the booze loosens her lips and she says something worse. It's a small jet. 
"It's not like Morgan," Spencer agrees, standing at Rossi's other side, looking less out of place than usual. 
"It's totally like him," Penelope says.
Hotch's smile is hard to read, which is a spectacle considering current company. "I agree." 
"Here he is now," Penelope says excitedly, clapping her hands in front of her chest. 
Derek strides into the bar and past its patrons without a care in the world. He looks happy, content, and the team doesn't need to see you to know you're with him. He smiles at his phone at work exactly as he smiles now, with his arm stretched backwards to tether you along. 
You come into view as the crowd thins. You're not what anyone's expecting, certainly not plain but nor are you dressed up. Emily, in her tipsiness, declares that you look adorable, and receives a reproachful look from Hotch in reward. 
"Hey Derek!" JJ calls as soon as he's near enough. 
"Hey, guys. Mama, you remember what we talked about?" Derek asks Penelope. 
She nods sagely. "Restraint. I'm restraining myself. Oh my god you're so cute, I'm Penelope! I'm so happy to meet you." 
"Hi," you say. 
No less than five pairs of eyes fall to your hand as you twist your fingers into Derek's sleeve. He doesn't bat an eye, taking a half step in front of you, a picture of casualness as he introduces you to each of them in turn. 
"It's nice to meet you," Hotch says, seemingly speaking for the whole group. 
You raise your hand and give a stilted wave. Your eyes look sad and stressed at once, but you don't sound either, softly saying, "You too." 
Derek wraps a muscled arm behind your neck, grinning while he meets Penelope's eyes. "What are we drinking tonight?"
Your eyebrows pinch up at the starts. You smile at them all despite your obvious nervousness, and it's enough for each of them to reach the same conclusion simultaneously. You're shy, but you're good. A broad sweep yet easy to make. It's obvious how much you care for Derek if you'd been willing to meet them like this when you clearly don't feel comfortable.
Luckily for you, Penelope is excellent as making people feel welcome. "We're drinking Y/N's choice. What do you like? Sugar shots? Mojitos?" 
Your lips part, unprepared for a direct question so soon. 
Derek turns his head to yours, giving you what Emily deems the most ridiculous puppy dog eyed smile anyone has ever given, and what Rossi knows is a ring waiting to happen. He should know. 
"Let's go figure it out. Another round, from me?" he offers. 
He's quick to steer you away, but not too quick to miss Rossi's, "Something strong if you want us old timers to stay!" 
They wait for you to be safely out of earshot before they condense, bad gossips and worse actors off the job. "Who would've thought?" Emily asks. 
"She's not what I was expecting," JJ says. 
"Are we that intimidating?" Rossi asks, raising his eyebrows. The answer being yes, of course, though none of them are aware of just how scary they can be. You'd felt like you were standing in front of a pack of wolves. 
"She seemed nice," Spencer says. Trust him to say something sweet. Trust the rest of Derek's friends to agree, the group nodding and humming at various pitches.
"She seemed silent," Emily jokes. 
Penelope crosses her fingers and closes her eyes, earrings swinging against the blond tresses of her curled hair as she drops her head. "God, my muffin deserves nice. Please let this work out, she looks so sweet. I just wanna pinch her cheeks." 
"It's gonna work out," Hotch says surely. 
If Derek could hear him, he'd agree on the spot, but he's too busy praising you halfway across the room for such a stellar introduction. 
3K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 3 months
Text
6 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. You remember how the sunlight glistened against his skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.
It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.
With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press the sharp end against the tip of your finger.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. 6.4k words,,,tav is better than me i would've thrown hands like twelve years ago,,,I HAVE NO IDEA HOW I WROTE THIS IN LIKE TWO DAYS???? also thank you for all your comments they really motivate me to write!! so have this monster of a chapter early as thanks!!
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"You'll kill them, Astarion," you mumble. "They might not have had the power to help you, but they're still your siblings. I don't want them to die hating you."
"They're not my siblings--not really. I don't care what they think of me. Hells, they could haunt me even in the afterlife, as annoying as that would be, but they're no innocents either. They've brought in as many souls as I have," he responds, his jaw visibly clenching at the thought. "I don't care if all seven thousand of them die hating me as long as you're here."
And while you feel flattered, you can't disregard the worry driving a hole through your conscience. Ever perceptive, he lifts a hand to brush stray strands of hair out of your face, his fingertips tracing your jaw. His voice is but a hushed whisper.
"You understand, don't you, my love? It would set me free--after two hundred years of forcing myself through hell--I can finally free myself from Cazador," his tone sours at just the mention of his master's name, and he intertwines his fingers with yours, drawing your attention back to him.
"It is what you want for me, no? For me to be happy?"
It is what you want. Just not like this.
Music was your way of releasing the mountain of feelings you kept locked away in your chest, waiting for the right person to recognize them for what they are. You’d hoped someone would understand the meaning behind your lyrics without you telling them outright, and they’d know what it truly meant to you. And for a while, you’d believed Astarion would be the key to this safe.
You couldn’t have been more wrong.
“While I usually entertain your certainly out-of-the-box plans, this is bordering on just foolish, I’m afraid,” Gale sighs, eyes tracing you as you pace around the house, stuffing every possible weapon and healing potion into a brown sack. Despite his insistence, you ignore him, testing the blade of a knife against the edge of the table. It’s not entirely dull, nor is it sharper than the dagger in your drawer, but it’ll have to do. “Simply charging into the tavern won’t do much good if you’ll be overwhelmed in number anyway.”
“I know what I’m doing, Gale,” you hiss, snatching an Alchemist’s Fire and shoving it a tad too hard into your bag. He tenses. “If they want to talk to me so badly, then I’m not waiting around for them to attack another one of my friends—I’ll go to them.”
“Yes, your determination is certainly praise-worthy, but can we please just sit down and think this through before running into a battlefield with a few knives? This is basically a suicide mission.”
“The wizard is right, even if it’s hard to believe,” Lae’zel announces from the corner of the room, wiping a cloth on her sword. “When I arrived, they’d already fled. They could be anywhere by now, and they’ve had more than enough time to plan another ambush if we were to charge now. We must be smart about this. I am a warrior, but I am no fool.”
“I’ll go by myself,” you say, a sense of finality in your voice. “They already showed what they’d do if someone they didn’t want to talk to approached them. I’ll just talk to them.”
Gale stares with lidded eyes. “So why are you packing so many explosives, exactly?”
“...Precaution?”
Silence befalls the room, and you take it as a sign to finish your preparations. All you can hear is the crackling of the fireplace and the rain falling against the windows of the home. The lot of you had somehow managed to stabilize Shadowheart by the time Lae’zel returned, and while she’d been conscious earlier, you insisted she rest before she consumed herself with the investigation again. You didn’t miss the way she limped back to her room with little to protest against you.
“Take the spawn with you.”
Two jaws drop at the words, the only one remaining fixed belonging to Lae’zel.
“The kainyank is living here to help. Not cause more problems for us. And so far, he’s only done one of the two things, and I’m dangerously close to turning to my blade if he doesn’t choose otherwise,” she says. “The spawn are searching for him, too. If blood breaks out, you must use him to flee safely.”
Gale blinks. “As in…use him as a body shield?”
“What else is he good for?”
While the wizard seems positively appalled, you can see the contemplation flicker in his eyes before he shakes his head. He's always been more considerate than the rest of you. “No, Tav would never agree to such a-”
“Okay.”
They both whip their heads toward you, and you avoid their piercing gazes, staring down at the dull blade in your hand. “It might help, too, if we find out why they want him. There are nearly 3000 spawns in the city—we can’t kill all of them, at least not immediately. It’d be best if we convinced them to leave, and the best way of doing that is to understand what they want in the first place.”
Lae’zel narrows her eyes. “Then you must swear it. Swear that if Astarion were to face risks, you will leave him behind. If he were to turn on you, you slice through his throat without a second of hesitation. He is there to aid you–nothing else.”
“I will,” the words feel hot on your tongue.
And so, you soon find yourself standing in front of his door, hand reaching for the door handle. There’s a slight pause right as you touch the cool metal, but you bite your tongue and shove it open, praying he’s still not as ravenous as he was a few hours ago. And much to your surprise, he appears wholly composed.
He lowers his book to his lap, eyes training themselves on you as they dart from your bag and then back to your face. The window’s wide open, bathing him in the moonlight, with dark curtains tied to the wall to keep them from obscuring his view of the city. He raises a brow. “What could you possibly want from me at two in the morning? Come here for a cuddle?”
You’re scowling again.
“I need you-”
“I’m flattered, but I fear you may stab a butter knife into my eye, so I’ll have to decline.”
“Not like that.” Your frown creases deeper at his smug grin. “We’re going to the Blushing Mermaid to find the spawn.”
“Just us?”
“They want to see us.”
“And if I refuse?”
The answer is almost immediate, cutting through the atmosphere like a knife on bread. “I hear the bloody bedrolls in the Duke’s dungeon are very comfortable.”
He drops his smile at this, and a tiny spark of pride puffs your chest. He seems to weigh his choices before snapping his book shut and standing from the bed, snatching a comb from his bedside table before pacing up to you, pocketing it behind him.
"A comb?"
He shrugs as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, I doubt you’ll be giving me a weapon of any sort, so I must make do.”
You don’t correct him.
As the two of you make your way downstairs, you hear your other companions speaking.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to defend Astarion,” Gale says in disbelief, still comprehensive as Lae’zel poorly cuts up slices of an apple.
“I am doing no such thing, istik,” she mutters. “I am giving him a choice. Either to pick up his dead weight and prove his life is worth more than the dirt on my shoes or die at my hand.”
The walk to the Blushing Mermaid is painfully awkward. To you, anyway, because he seems positively unbothered the entire time. Seeing him leisurely follow behind you is irritating—and it bothers you more than you’d like to admit.
By the time you survey the area around the tavern, you’ve discerned they must be inside, considering there are no ambushes awaiting your arrival. While it’s a relief, it also increases the anxiety of what lies inside the tavern itself, and you confirm your knives are at your disposal if it were ever to come to that. You sincerely hope it doesn’t. Astarion sighs dramatically for the umpteenth time as you approach the front doors, and you finally snap to look at him with a glare.
“Will you stop breathing so damn loud?”
The change in your attitude toward him is apparent, but he doesn't seem to care. If anything, he seems more pleased with you than he was before every time you shoot him an annoyed glance or something along those lines. He responds with lazy answers, but it's better than the bitter ones he gave you before.
You're not terribly surprised, though. He's always loved pissing people off for his own entertainment, and it would be an understatement to say that he's been somewhat successful with you.
“I’m not breathing, my dear. I don’t need to, remember?”
“Then what is your problem?” you hiss between your teeth. “Are you trying to wake up the entire city with your insistent groaning?”
“Must we do this tonight, of all days? Couldn’t this wait till tomorrow?”
“No!” you say in exasperation. “That gives them too much time to heal and recover from Shadowheart and Gale. It has to be tonight, just in case they do decide to fight—then we’ll have an easier time because, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s just us two!”
He sighs again, and you swear you might pluck a strand of his hair for good measure. And just as you shove past him and reach for the door, he clears his throat again. Loudly.
“For God’s sake, what?” you nearly yell.
He smiles at you, pointing at the front door. “Well, if we’re looking to avoid an ambush, perhaps we should find another way in than the main entrance. Unless my prior knowledge as a rogue proceeds me.”
You blink. You recognize the validity of his statement and feel your face flare, and you immediately march past him again—the other way this time—and search for the nearest wall you can climb up to the roof. You hear him snicker, but you do your best to ignore it. 
Somehow, you manage to climb in through the window, admittedly a lot louder than him, but you don’t think it’s fair to compare yourself to him when he has footsteps lighter than a child’s. Hidden behind one of the tables, you peer into the rest of the tavern, which is completely empty save for the bottles of alcohol scattered everywhere. You turn to signal to him that the coast is clear, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
Immediately, your face drains of color.
“Right here, darling.”
He drops down from seemingly thin air, and you gasp, nearly letting out a shriek if it weren’t for your hand covering your mouth. He grins at that.
Bastard.
“There’s nobody in the entire building–at least, not visible to the eye,” he confirms, glancing around the room.
“How do you know that?”
He points at the ceiling, and your eyes follow it. “Someone decided to build such useful beams on the roof. You can see the entire place from up there. Care to take a look?”
While you would have thanked him if he had been any other person, you only march straight by him. “Don’t do anything without telling me first.”
“No ‘thanks, Astarion’?” He quirks a brow but huffs when you ignore him. “Very well then, my liege. No need to acknowledge a humble servant such as I. But I shall let you know when I’m about to take any questionable decision.”
You’re starting to wonder if his presence is worth the headache it gives you.
Pacing around the tavern, it seems all too normal. No blood splatters against the wall, no broken chairs—hells, even the booze cups look clean, which is a rarity for the Blushing Mermaid. You check each room, inspecting down to the last cups in case there are traces of blood in them, but to no avail.
It’s like there was never anyone here.
“You look like you’re having trouble, my dear,” Astarion clicks his tongue mockingly, leaning back in one of the more luxurious chairs he’s decided is his own.
“Considering the only company I decided to bring along is lounging around like a bum, I’m not surprised,” you say back, now searching the smallest cracks in the walls for some sort of secret passage. It’s strange. Even though your companions had spoken of the bodies they encountered when facing the spawn, there’s not a single speck of blood in sight. Neither is there anything outside but the whistle of the wind.
“This particular wall must be quite fascinating.”
You fight the need to groan and whip around to snap at him, but he’s suddenly just a foot away from you, staring at the spot you’d been squinting at. Gods, you hate how quiet he is when he walks.
“As wonderful as it is getting a fresh breath of air,” he feigns disappointment with a half-hearted sigh, turning to walk toward the entrance. “I believe we’ve done what we can. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d love to return to my book–”
The wooden floor underneath him creaks. It sounds hollow.
As if there’s something underneath.
“The basement,” you blink, eyes wide. “The hag’s lair.”
He stares at you as if you’ve taken too many mushrooms. “It was sealed up after we rid of that dreadful woman. Good riddance, too, I mean, I’m not particularly fond of children, but eating them, even I wouldn’t be able–”
You rush toward the very corner of the tavern, sensing that he’s following you regardless of his obvious distaste toward your decision. There, you push against a table perched on top of the basement latch and test its locks.
It’s open.
“Heavens, it reeks here. How didn’t I smell it before?”
“Of what?” You sniff the air. “I don’t smell anything.”
“Blood, my dear. Fairly recent, too, if my judgment hasn’t gotten rusty in the time I’ve spent cooped up in that room,” he pauses. “And I haven’t gotten rusty, to be clear.”
“Right,” you retort, reaching down to pull the latch open. You don’t see him do the same, and you glance at him quizzically.
“Gods no,” he says, when he realizes why you’re staring. “I’m doing no such thing that ruins these nails.”
You sigh. Loudly.
The latch opens relatively easily, but you make an effort not to simply swing it open in fear the occupants inside might be warned of your arrival. You prop the trap door open against a chair and begin your descent down the stairs, remaining as silent as possible.
The first thing you can notice is that he’d been right.
The stench of blood burns in your nose, and you immediately cover it with your sleeve to avoid inhaling anymore. You’ve smelt enough of your companion’s blood today, and you’d rather not continue the streak with the blood of complete strangers. Astarion, however, frowns.
“Such a waste,” he mumbles.
When you turn to where he’s looking, there’s a pile of bodies—poor victims, no doubt—lying over a puddle of their collective blood mixing with one another. It almost feels inhumane to leave them that way, just hours after their death, as if they’re cattle to be used.
Though, in this case, they are cattle.
“Are you sure it’s them?”
“I’m telling you it is!”
“Where’s their lyre, then?”
“How would I know that?”
You locate the source of the whispers instantly, reaching for one of your daggers as your eyes bore into the corners of the lair that are obscured from your view. Astarion steps forward before you can figure out a plan to approach them, arrogance exuding from his very body as he holds nothing but the comb tucked in his back pocket. “We can hear you, you fools. Come out before I lose my patience.”
“What are you doing?” you hiss.
“They’re only a few spawns, my dear. Nothing like Cazador—no need to be so cautious.”
You open your mouth to protest, but a woman emerges from the shadows, her eyes trained on your own as she marvels at your mere presence. You realize she’s not alone as multiple vampires begin to emerge from different corners of the room, all a safe distance away but not enough to ease the nerves jittering in your stomach. She steps toward you. “It’s really you, isn’t it?”
Another spawn steps beside her, and you immediately notice how ravenous he seems, eyes almost glistening with hunger as they bore straight into you. The woman puts a hand on his neck, seemingly soothing him, before he slumps his shoulders again, but the pure violence swirling in his head doesn’t seem to vanish. She then looks to Astarion, and the expression on her face morphs into something more akin to dread. “And you, brother.”
“Dalyria.” Astarion only stares with lidded eyes, visibly unfazed.
You instinctively scan the entire lair, searching for any differences you can spot since the last time you were here. The only glaring thing besides the bodies piled in the corner is the study desk on the other side of the room, scattered with different potions and concoctions. Behind the desk is an entire wall plastered with diagrams—most of which study the anatomy and functionality of what you can only determine to be a vampire judging from the fangs. There are also beds everywhere—though they look like they could collapse any second—and the room almost looks like a hospital.
The atmosphere between the siblings is so uncomfortable you’d think they’ll start attacking one another any second.
“Is Leon here?” you finally cut through, lowering your hand away from your blade. “I need to speak with him—technically, all of you.”
“How curious. We were hoping to speak with you as well,” she says, motioning all the other spawn to stand down. It does little to ease you. “By all means, feel free to go first.”
You take the opportunity, too exhausted, to demonstrate polite etiquette. “The spawn are causing too much trouble in the city, Dalyria. They’re killing too many people, and it’s getting noticed by more than enough people. At this rate, you’ll lose some of your own if the Fist figure out how you guys are hiding throughout the city.”
“...Yes, I’m aware.”
The resignation in her voice makes your throat bob, but you continue anyway. “I’m saying we need to get you guys somewhere more stable. Whether it be the Underdark or elsewhere, we can’t have you staying here.”
“I see,” she says slowly. “I appreciate you trying to talk this out with us, but I’m afraid I cannot grant your request.”
Your shoulders tense, and you can see Astarion shift beside you. “You don’t understand, sister. There’s going to be an outright war at this rate-”
“Baldur’s Gate is our home as well, Astarion. You, of all people, should know this,” she demands. “We have a right to remain here, and if the Fist insists on forcing us out, we have no choice but to retaliate.”
“But you’re killing the city off!” you gawk in disbelief, unable to believe what you’re hearing.
“We’re surviving,” she corrects, the corners of her lips turning downward. “Surely you can’t hate us for that.”
“Then…” you blink at her, positively appalled at her words. “Why the hells did you need to speak with me? What was worth putting my companion through hell?”
“...There is a way—for both parties to benefit.” She looks down at her hands, then back up at you. “I didn’t expect the both of you to come together. Our informants were correct when they claimed to see Astarion in your possession. In all honesty, we technically only needed one of you, but this makes things a lot quicker.”
Confused but desperately wanting an answer, you urge her to continue. Only you can see the way Astarion’s hand slips toward his pocket, where his comb lies.
“We were going to ask you to bring him to us, you see. But it appears you’ve already done the hard part.”
The dreaded intuition in the back of your mind tells you something is wrong. Very, very wrong.
“Me? What do you need me for?” he scowls.
She disregards him and continues speaking to you, leaving a sour taste in your mouth. “If you turn him over to us, you’ll never have to see him again. That is what you want, yes?”
Both you and the pale elf freeze.
“I watched as my brother nearly killed you the day of the ritual,” she continues. “I understand how you feel being betrayed by someone you thought shared your pain. And I believe this is a way to relieve you of that pain—and finally move onto a new stage of your life.”
She acts as if Astarion is the only thing holding you from moving on from the past few months of your life. And if she’d said so a week ago, you would have nothing to defend yourself with. But you’ve cut the few strings left that tie yourself to him. You remind yourself that you no longer care for him, regardless of the slight squeeze in your chest. You’ve already sworn to force yourself to disregard him, and you want to say all these things to her, but nothing comes out. So, instead, you keep your mouth sealed.
Astarion scoffs from beside you.
“For God’s sake, please tell me you’re not actually considering this. Let’s just force the madwoman out and go,” his voice attempts to stay firm, but it’s high-pitched at the end. He’s panicking.
You don’t respond to him, and he stiffens. “...My main concern is the city. If you think you can use my personal matters to convince me to just let you keep killing all these people–”
“That matter will resolve itself in its own time. We’ll return to the Underdark—or wherever it is you wish, and you won’t have to spend your nights hunting us down anymore.”
With a dry throat, you fixate your gaze on her face, desperately trying to discern any hint of a crack in her mask. Instead, you find nothing. “Why would you do that? For one spawn?”
“I’m afraid that’s for me and my siblings to know. But I can promise you that no harm will come to you if you take this deal.”
For what seems like the millionth time this month, you have no idea what to do. Lae’zel’s words flood you like a wave crashing onto shore as you remind yourself that Astarion is here not as your ally but as a shield. If things are as Dalyria says, simply turning over the man standing next to you would end this entire ordeal. You could return to your everyday life of repairing the city, learning to heal and grow from the terrors of the illithid invasion. You could learn to let people in again.
You could learn to play music again in hopes of finding the person you dreamed would understand.
Such an enticing, perfect deal. It’s almost too perfect. But you’ve learned not to trust perfection, especially when handed to you by a vampire spawn.
Astarion, who had been observing your expression this whole time, almost seems to read your mind. Or perhaps he’s just feeling selfish, ready to defend himself. “You’ve created a lot of problems for me, dear sister. I’ve gotten accused of your own murders, thanks to your pets.”
The delirious spawn, who’d looked sluggish after Dalyria’s soothing, now bares his teeth at Astarion. Dalyria attempts to calm him again, but it’s no use. The bloodthirst cannot be satiated unless there’s blood spilled on his very hands.
Astarion doesn’t seem to take a hint—or maybe he does but chooses to simply ignore it. “I’ve always known you were strange, Dalyria, but really? Experimenting with your ‘useless procedures’ on fresh spawns? He looks positively possessed, sister. He might just resort to eating you instead.”
“They are not useless, Astarion,” she snaps. “I am a doctor. I’m only curing what needs to be cured.”
“Then tell me why you haven’t managed to cure yourself of our curse? You may be intelligent in medical aspects, but gods above, you are more foolish than Cazador himself if you really think you can cure vampirism.”
“I had nobody to test my ideas on for two centuries, Astarion! Now that I do, surely I can-”
“You’re starving them, Dalyria,” he snaps, tone drastically different from the banter you shared just minutes ago. “And they’ll give into the thirst sooner or later.”
His words are the final straw.
The spawn who’d been standing beside her launches himself toward you. Before you can even register what’s happening, his fangs are at your throat, your neck tilted so it shoots pain up your side. Just as you feel your skin split at the tips of his canines, Astarion rips him away from you so harshly that the spawn flies helplessly into the wall, which crumbles under his weight. Dust flies into your eyes, and you cough, wiping at them until it clears just enough to see Dalyria staring in horror.
“I told you, Dalyria. You are no doctor, not anymore,” Astarion scoffs, eyes narrowed into slits. “And I’m afraid I can’t let you kill my liege here, as I’d much hate to be trapped in a cell somewhere underground.”
You reach the specks of blood drops forming on your neck, horrified by the close encounter you had with death just seconds ago. The culprit of your injury lies unconscious beside the cracked wall, and you wonder just how hard he had to be thrown to be rendered in such a state. You can see the other spawns’ eyes practically glow at the sight of your blood—fresh, unlike the pile of corpses on the other side of the room.
She turns to you, desperation pouring from the wavering of her voice. “Please, don’t make me do this. Don’t make us enemies. All you need to do is give us Astarion. My brother, for heaven's sake!”
You think better of it. Something that obviously pleases Astarion if the way his face relaxes tells you anything.
“May I?” he glances at you.
Surely, there are ways–more civilized ways–-than drawing your blade, but the ferocious growling from the rest of the spawn tells you otherwise. You need to find out why she needs Astarion so badly, and clearly, she’s not willing to tell you unless it’s through pure force. You despise the idea as much as you despise the predicament you’re in, but you refuse to be attacked and deliver nothing back.  Just as you nod to his question, another spawn lunges, unable to resist the red staining your neck.
But it’s smart this time, choosing to eliminate any threats before turning to the full course. In this case, the only thing between you and the vampires is another vampire.
“Brother!” Dalyria shouts, horrified.
You don't bother calling his name, only barely manage to tackle Astarion out of the way before the spawn’s claw sinks into the very ground he was standing on just seconds ago.
As embarrassing as it is to practically crash on top of him, both of you wince because it’s more painful than anything. You force yourself up with your arms, and it’s then that you see even more spawn crawling from whatever shadows they hid in, and you realize you are terribly and most definitely outnumbered. By a lot. 
“Dalyria, if you’re truly a doctor, do something! Stop them, godsdammit!” you shriek in her direction.
“They’re not—they were doing so well!...” she gasps before she reaches for a tattered journal and desperately files through its pages in a frenzy. “They were nearly docile before. I don’t know why–”
You feel Astarion’s hands slip out of the sack you carry on your back, realizing you hadn’t even noticed him opening it. He’s still lying flat on the ground, and you look down at him, puzzled before he laughs bitterly.
“I’ll be borrowing this for a few minutes, darling.”
You barely dodge another spawn that comes flying at you, rolling off of him and practically slamming into the wall. And before you can crawl away, your knife—in Astarion’s hand—stabs through the spawn’s left eye through the back of their head, specks of their blood splattering against your cheek.
You want to throw up.
“No, don’t harm them! Please, just let us go!” Dalyria pleads, but you’re finished being patient with her. She clearly has no way of calming the spawn, and you’re tired of being thrown around like a ragdoll in the mess that is the lair.
You yank out the Alchemist’s Fire and chuck it at the nearest cluster of spawn—around 2 or 3—and flinch as the vial collides and explodes into flames right before your eyes, blowing your hair out of your face in a gust of smoke and wind. You swear you hear Astarion cackle in utter glee at the destruction, but you choose not to dwell on it, too busy figuring out how else you could get out of here alive.
“You’re ruining the patients!” Dalyria screams, and you almost regret not throwing the vial at her instead.
“Your spawn are the ones attacking us!”
Suddenly, her face goes impossibly pale, and you hear a hiss of pain from a few feet away. Astarion winces as one of the spawn claws at his chest leaves behind a reasonably deep wound following the path of their sharp nails. Your knife is kicked away from him, and you hear Dalyria again just as he reaches for the comb instead. “Brother, be careful!”
You’re not sure if she wants you and Astarion dead or not, but it’s seriously giving you backlash at this point.
He stabs the comb into the spawn’s neck and kicks him away, and you take the opportunity to send the knife he dropped through the air.
By some miracle, it pierces straight through the spawn’s arm. Astarion lets out a breathy laugh from the floor, attention glued to your handiwork. “Ha! And to think that could have been me!”
And while you want to admire your aim yourself, there’s no time. Dalyria’s footsteps rush up the stairs, out of the basement, and you realize you need to follow moments after Astarion, who’s already fleeing up the steps, cursing under his breath. “That demented wench!”
You stand to follow after him, but the remaining spawns are already blocking your way. There are only two more, but you brace yourself for the worst, reaching for whatever remaining weapons you have left in your sack. The smoke and debris feel suffocating in your lungs, but you have no choice but to push through, praying to whatever God you can remember at the moment that this be the last time you have to fight this many vampire spawn. Or any, for that matter.
You wish you had left your fighting days behind you when you defeated the elder brain, but you suppose even that was too much to ask for.
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You arrive just in time to see the sunrise.
Lying against a wall is Astarion, who you find just before the sunlight hits the part of the ground he’s on. He’s clutching his shoulder, which drips with his own blood, and showing no signs of the quick vampire regeneration. You stare down at him, face stoic as you wait for him to say something.
Judging from his condition, you assume Dalyria got away.
“Leaving me to die here would be unwise,” he scoffs. “Though it’d be rather easy to let me burn to death in the sun, I must remind you that I much rather prefer decapitation if it’s all the same to you.” 
“I’ll consider it,” you reply curtly. "Can't promise anything, though."
He leans his head back, amused. The sunlight is just a few feet away now, and you wonder how long it's been since he's been outside to watch the sunrise. “You’ve always had a cruel streak in you. I just had to lure it out, sometimes, but when it did come out—Gods, you should have seen it yourself.”
“You’re delirious,” you remind him, observing just how much blood he’s losing. You remind yourself of your resentment when worry probes a small part of your heart. One that you hope dies soon. “Why aren’t you healing?”
“I haven’t been exactly feeding well, unfortunately. And days old boar’s blood can only sustain me so long, darling,” he lulls his head forehead, sneering to himself. “Now that I think about it, dying by sunlight sounds rather poetic, don’t you think? Perhaps you can make a song about my glorious death.”
He’s definitely unhinged from blood loss.
You sigh, tossing his arm over your shoulder as you deem the sunlight a bit too close now. It’s a slow process with your own body’s soreness, but you manage to drag him to a more shaded area, propping him against the wall there so that you can rummage through your sack for a healing potion. You stop when his hand latches onto your arm.
“What?” you frown.
“It won’t help. I need blood, my dear.”
“There’s none for you here.”
“The bodies in the basement,” he bites back a groan, more blood gushing out of his shoulder. “I can make use of them--give their deaths a sense of purpose."
The displeasure on your face must be apparent because he laughs.
You pause, lowering the sack onto the ground. While you’re illuminated by the sunlight now, he remains in the shadow of the building, only able to see the sun with how it reflects off of your skin. And you find that he’s no longer looking at you but looking past you into the glowing orb you call the sun. You remember how its light glistened against his own skin the morning after your first night together. The longing in his eyes for the very same thing now makes your stomach churn.
It might have suit him even more than the moonlight.
With an irritable sigh, you take your blade and press its tip against the tip of your finger.
“What are you doing?”
“Keeping you alive,” you reply, pushing your fingertip now with a bead of blood trickling down its side, toward his face. “Drink.”
His eyes widen, and the temptation is more than evident with how his mouth falls open as if he tastes your blood from a few inches away. But as fast as it had come, he tears his eyes away. “I’m not taking your blood.”
“Stop with your prideful act, Astarion. You’re going to bleed out.”
“I wouldn’t die, exactly. I would just remain unconscious until I can properly heal myself.”
You spare him a long, hard stare. He refuses to look at you, biting the inside of his cheek to ignore the scent of your blood. And it's painfully clear he's failing.
You have no idea why he's so insistent on avoiding your blood, but you refuse to spend your own time pondering it.
“Fine then.”
He watches in utter loss as you lick the blood off of your finger, shrugging. “Bleed out for all I care.”
You turn to stand, but his hand latches on your arm once more. You’re not sure if you’re imagining how warm he feels, but you think you must be. He's always been terribly cold.
“Do you hate me now?” he asks again, this time staring up at you through his lashes. “Have I finally run through your patience?”
The question remains the same as he asked you a week ago, but it feels different now. This time, you know your answer, and it feels so, so relieving. You just wish you could understand his own feelings, but his expression is so superficial you don’t even attempt it.
“Yes,” you reply blankly. “I hate you.”
He takes a moment to process your words. You have to admit it’s satisfying to say it to his face, even if your hatred for him is new. But perhaps because it’s new is why you feel it so strongly, and you silently thank it for how confident you sound saying the words. Even if they taste bitter. You think he might have some quip to respond with, but he only smiles, and as usual, it doesn’t reach his eyes.
You never want to see it again.
Without another word, he pulls you down to him, and you nearly topple over before stabilizing yourself with either of your knees on either side of his legs. He breathes against your neck, and you think he might drink from you until you feel his fingers brush against your nape. Immediately, your body freezes like a deer in headlights, flinching at his touch as your mind involuntarily forces the last memories you have of his hands on your neck.
And ever so perceptive, he notices how you recoil from his touch.
You hate your body for reacting the way it does out of fear. Not the disgust or the anger, but something much more pathetic, and you want to go back on your own actions to stop yourself from appearing so weak to him. You think he might tease you--taunt you, even, but he stops, slowly pulling away and lowering his head from the crook between your shoulder and head.
You’re unable to see his face, but his movements seem more sluggish.
Instead of going for your neck, he lifts your wrist, brushing his lips against it before sinking his teeth into the tender flesh.
Despite the initial sting, it’s a feeling you’ve grown accustomed to over time. With him, it had always felt so intimate. It’s why you can’t help but feel heat bloom across your cheeks before you remind yourself you no longer care for him. Only when you think he’s drinking a bit too long do you try to pull away, but his arm loops around your waist, bringing you even closer as the amount of blood he’s taking increases with how deep his fangs are.
You feel so cold, yet heat burns through your very blood. It makes your head dizzy, and you take it as a sign that he’s had enough.
You only manage to speak a few seconds later, breathless. “Astarion.”
He pulls away, seemingly out of breath himself as he releases his hold on the rest of your body. He runs his tongue over the access, staining the side of his mouth. He uses his finger to make sure the rest is off his face. “I know.”
He rarely feeds so messily, so you discern he wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t been drinking well. Knowing he wasn’t deceiving you brings little relief, but it’s still a welcome feeling. Rubbing at your wrist and the two puncture wounds now residing there, you stand up and slug your sack over your shoulder. He watches you the entire time, and you hate that you can never seem to read his expressions—only one, and that’s whenever he claims to despise your very existence.
His shoulder has already stopped bleeding.
“Why didn’t you drink from those people at Sharess’ Caress?” you finally say.
“Their blood…” he pauses, trailing off, and suddenly he seems to change his mind. “...I've grown tired of it.”
“Blood is just blood, isn’t it?”
He stares at you for a moment, then laughs.
“I wish it was, darling.”
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equalseleventhirds · 1 year
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"I don't understand how I'm losing," Reigen said, his hands flying over his keyboard. It was so late now—too late, maybe—if only he'd used the same technique as with the Player Killer from the beginning, he might have stood a chance, but he hadn't seriously thought he'd lose—
"Shishou," Mob said, "why is this so important? You already have second place from Twitter."
Reigen laughed, not at all nervously, and splayed a hand across his forehead. "You don't understand, Mob. The publicity from something like this, even a rematch, would do wonders for Spirits and Such. This is about business."
(He would never admit to his pride being on the line.)
"And anyway, who is this guy? A radio host? I've been on TV, you know."
Mob carefully did not bring up what had actually happened when Reigen made his television debut.
Ritsu had no such qualms. "When they exposed you as a fraud? That was publicity too, right?"
"Hey—!"
Serizawa leaned over Reigen's shoulder to see the computer screen, careful not to spill the tea he placed on the desk. "Oh, Cecil from Welcome to Night Vale? It's been a while since I listened to that, maybe I should catch up."
Reigen stared at him. "You? What? Serizawa?"
"Ah... yeah." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Back when I was... well, when I didn't leave my room much, the podcast was popular. I guess it gave a sense of... community? Feeling less alone, even when you are." He shrugged. "Plus, hearing another gay man in a show like that was comforting."
"He's gay? Canonically?" Why can't I be gay canonically?
"Sure, he got married in episode 100. It was very emotional."
"I nearly died in our chapter 100—"
-- -- -- -- --
Well, listeners, there's still a few hours left on the poll, but I'm now leading at 56%! I must say, I did not expect this, especially after Twitter users so clearly forgot—or perhaps never knew—about my Tumblr Sexyman Origins.
But, that's neither here nor there. I certainly am grateful, if a bit bemused, about all of this, but let us not forget that this is all a friendly competition. Unlike the annual War On Christmas—and let us all take a moment to remember our fallen allies against that terrible holiday foe—this is a battle of kindness. Love, even. The love we feel for Tumblr, for our favorite sexy men, for pressing a button on a meaningless internet poll. The love we feel, listeners, for each other.
And in the spirit of that love and friendliness, I figured I'd get to know my opponent a little better! A bit of googling, which of course you know means searching via every search engine but Google, what with the Town Council imposing the Google Search Tax and getting all Night Vale IP addresses shadowbanned, has led me to... oh my, listeners. I do not know who made this, but Reigen Arataka has the single most beautiful professional web page I have ever encountered. It's... words do not do it justice. I am tearing up. This... I could not make anything better myself.
A-hem. Listeners, now that I've wiped away the tears such beauty inspired in me, I can now see that Reigen's website advertises his business, one Spirits and Such Consulting. Well! We may be rivals in this moment, but I am overjoyed to learn that Reigen runs such an innovative and important business! I am nearly ashamed that, while my opponent works to make the world a better place, I, a mere community radio host, am winning the sexyman contest.
Nevertheless, we must respect the polls. Not respecting polls could get us in hot water with the Town Council, or with the demigods of numbers who lurk in the sharp edges of percentages. So since I can't hand my victory over to him, I think I'll do what I can as a community radio host, and promote Reigen Arataka's important business!
So if you're a spirit in need of counseling, a ghost in need of therapy, or an eldritch beast in need of a shoulder to cry on, head on over to Seasoning City and pay our good friend Reigen a visit! I'm sure he'll be pleased as anything to see you.
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lucky-slice · 1 month
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Do you understand how much kevin respects neil? And i don't mean when it comes to exy, like sure there's a whole lot of you're not good enough followed by you will make court bluh bluh bluh, i mean fundamentally as a human.
Kevin and Neil's conversation after the truth of Neil's father is revealed drives me absolutely insane because I think it highlights a lot about how Kevin views Neil.
so indulge me for a bit....
I think a lot of people forget, in light of Andrew choking Kevin for not telling him the truth, that Kevin's initial reaction was to tell Neil to run.
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*sorry for the quality - these are all screenshots off my phone
Kevin's instinct is to tell Neil to save himself, despite what that would mean for the team's success and for Kevin himself. This is significant to me for two reasons.
It highlights that Kevin genuinely cares about Neil outside of his exy potential. For most people, this would be a pretty obvious response to finding out your teammate has a guaranteed death sentence if they stick around, so it might not seem all that meaningful, but Kevin was raised in such an environment were you continued to play no matter what - even at the risk of death. Kevin is unflinchingly callous when it comes to exy and his teammates (*see his reaction to Seth's death), but he is frantic in his concern for Neil in contrast to his fairly passive response to basically anyone else's wellbeing outside of exy. Neil's death will have no real impact on Kevin. If Neil dies or goes to the ravens, nothing changes for Kevin. He is not at a greater risk of being hurt by Riko or the Moriyama's nor will his exy career be effected. That's not to say he would tell Neil to stay if he cared about him any less, but there is a desperation that implies a depth beyond just that of a teammate.
The fact that Kevin is frantic and desperate for Neil to leave, gives weight to his decision to keep teaching Neil in the aftermath of the revelation.
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Neil doesn't want to run - he wants to be Neil Josten until the end. He gave Kevin his game and now he's asking him to keep it and Kevin obliges.
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This is essentially Kevin promising that he will keep Neil's secret. He will allow Neil to wear his mask and continue teaching him despite the fact that Neil is essentially a dead man walking. This, to me, is Kevin ultimately respecting Neil and his choice. At any moment, Kevin has the ability to got to Wymack or Andrew and give Neil the chance at surviving, but that would mean betraying Neil.
Some people (certainly the foxes) would view refusing Neil's request as the proper and morally correct thing to do. But I think Kevin's immediate acceptance of Neil's decision is both immensely meaningful to Neil and also a signifier of a shared understanding between to two.
Imagine how impactful it must be for Neil, who has never had autonomy over his own life and has been marked for death basically since he was born, to be told that not only will his decisions and his autonomy be respected, but there is someone who will stand by his side on the court, knowing the whole truth, until the very end.
Kevin doesn't have much to offer Neil at this point. He can not give him a future - he'll be long dead before he can ever make court, and Kevin is a coward - he is not andrew, he can't stand up against the Moriyama's or Riko or Neil's father. Kevin can not protect Neil in a way that matters. All he can do is promise to keep Neil's secret and offer him a few more months of being Neil Josten.
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I'm not including this to disparage Andrew or to suggest that he does not respect Neil, but this highlights that Kevin knows the decision to keep Neil's secret is one only Kevin would make. Andrew without a doubt would immediately try to get Neil to leave or attempt to get him into protection. I'm not passing a judgement of morality on what would've been the right thing to do, but I do think Kevin's reaction is indicative of the fact that Neil and Kevin understand each other in a way that no one else really will.
Neil and Kevin are a parallel's in a number of ways. Kevin lived the life that Neil was supposed to have and they are two parts of one story.
To them exy is not a game, but it's not really about exy either. It's about deciding to stay just to play for a couple more months even though you'll wind up dead because playing means you finally get to live after years of being a ghost. It's about playing to be the best no matter what, even though the consequences are having your hand smashed and the life you know completely demolished. It's about playing even though you're shaking with fear and anxiety because you need proof that your life, whether it be running to survive or living under an abusive hand, was not a waste.
Kevin agrees to keep Neil's secret because if the roles were reversed, Kevin would like to believe that he'd be strong enough to ask Neil for the same thing. This is obviously conjecture and a heavy heavy reading between the lines, but I'd like to think there's some truth there.
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Finishing up with this line because it makes me a little emotional.
Kevin starts the conversation by calling Neil "Nathaniel" and ends it by calling him Neil again. Its right there in the text, "it was a promise". Kevin is offering Neil a life that is fully his - not his father's, not Riko's, but Neil's to do with what he would like, even if its only for a couple more months. If that's not respect, than I don't know what is.
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horus-unofficial · 3 months
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hello hello welcome welcome. welcome 2 the HORUS guide 4 HORUS tech aka horus-unofficial.tumblr3.un gives you extremely comprehensive and very useful insight into its "pattern groups" and "licenses". we are your host harold HORUS here today to talk to you about our beautiful darling cunt of a child, the LICH
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nobody knows how the lich came 2 be. some buddies of ours say they invented it 9989 years from now which is weird bcos anyone normal would wait another decade before sending that shit back in time to hit that sweet 9999 and keep people guessing as to whether these files actually are from that far in the future, or if the lucky terminal receiving this code just stopped bothering to count the years after 15015u. either way, the lich is here now, and back then, and most certainly at some point in the future, and it kinda looks like we probably did invent it so that means we are in the clear to act like we're the ones who made it!
the lich sucks! its terrible! with glass bones and paper skin and a reactor that overheats at room temperature, a gust of wind could leave a dent in this PG's plating, which is made from samples of styrofoam and bubble wrap warped straight from the insides of pre-Fall packages labeled "FRAGILE, HANDLE WITH CARE" (a perfect bumper sticker for your lich, should you find yourself piloting one sometime within the next -50 to 250 years). you can tell no former members of harrison armory's R&D department were involved in the designing of the lich because the only thing those fuckers know how to do is create industrial microwaves, and the lich's reactor is the most slipshod, poorly-coded shit in the known universe. the only code regulating the lich's reactor is "reactor = cool" and not only are neither "reactor" nor "cool" defined anywhere in the system code, but HOR_OS doesn't even use = signs.
you may ask us, "if the lich is so shit, why do people pilot it?" and we are so glad you asked! generally speaking, answers to this question fall into one of two variations: - "it's a funny mech" - "why is everyone saying i pilot a lich??? i pilot a nelson!!! what do you mean that's my lich frame in the mech bay and i've had it for years, i literally don't have a single HORUS license, @horus-unofficial please advise"
the lich's victorian orphan-esque constitution aside, its biggest strength as a frame is likely its ability to send itself to the seaside for a much needed mental health break should it encounter the slightest hint of adversity on the battlefield. its no wonder the lich is so frail, the entirety of our nonexistent R&D budget went into making this thing the most annoying roleplayer on the playground. "you hit me with your sword? nuh-uh, i dodge. oh you run me through on your spear, killing me instantly? well it turns out that that body wasn't actually me, i've been dramatically looking down upon this duel from up there on those cliffs the whole time!" <- words most commonly spoken by future lich pilots at 11 years old
this allows it to be unexpectedly versatile in combat- with a refundable get out of jail free card and a maximum speed comparable to most of SSC's catalogue, it can weave through dangerous zones in combat with unexpected efficiency, allowing it to support allies from virtually any range, and instigate the occasional skirmish if its pilot is so inclined. we dont necessarily advise that you choose violence as a lich pilot, only that its a more viable choice of function than you might initially think
the lich plays with the timestream with the same enthusiasm as a preschooler in a sandbox, both in regards to itself and anything (un)fortunate enough to be within its sensor range. for every timeline where the lich is playing support for its allies and being so kind and niceys, there's another timeline where it gleefully tears into its adversaries until it overextends and dies respawns in another timeline, and it's through this universal law that an unusually principled lich pilot might find themselves taking a hit for its allies before immediately redeeming that get out of jail free card we mentioned earlier. of course, "principled HORUS pilot" is an oxymoron, so if your squad has a lich pilot what actually happens is more along the lines of being teamed with the biggest fucking nuisance on your planet, who pretends to toodle about the battlefield all combat because the truth is they've been stuck in a time loop for 7 years, and are well beyond the point of caring.
bottom line: if you encounter a lich in combat, dont even bother targeting it. it's unkillable except for when it isn't, and its banned from every omninet roleplay forum in the known universe for a reason
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runningfrom2am · 5 months
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leveling the playing field X
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summary: with nowhere else to go after getting caught cheating to help lucy gray, you both make some desperately stupid decisions.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.1k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). implications and mentions of abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
a/n: hi all!! i have some slightly annoying news (I'm so sorry) but i think i have to close my taglist for this fic and for other coryo stuff (which i am working on bc I've seen the requests!!) bc its gone up almost 150 people and i can only tag 50 people per post and it is SO much work to tag everyone individually even after i paste them in and i don't want to have to reblog it 2 or 3 times to tag everyone :(. I'm so sorry like i said ik its annoying but if you'd like to be the first to know ab new parts and you're not already in my taglist, feel free to turn on my post notifs!! that way you'll also see everything else including my asks ab the fic where i answer more questions and we talk theories and all that fun stuff :)
next part
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Coriolanus was having a hard time adjusting to the life of a peacekeeper, but he was getting there. He sent off that letter for you almost as soon as he arrived, but was yet to receive a response so that seemed like an answer enough. He had to forget you, especially if he wasn't going back to the Capitol anytime soon.
He was homesick, to say the very least. Both of his bunkmates were out, likely working, but he didn't care much to know exactly where. He was just relieved to have a moment to himself to wallow in his self-pity, chest constricting tighter and tighter with every breath.
A door slammed shut down the hall, followed quickly by his own door opening- at which he held his breath. He had to get it together.
"Is this bunk taken?" Someone asks, a voice not belonging to either of his bunkmates, but he recognizes it nonetheless.
He shot up straight, taking in the appearance of the boy in front of him. "Sejanus!" He had never been happier to see his classmate, hopping out of his top bunk to quickly give him a hug.
"This is a surprisingly warm welcome for someone who almost got you killed." Sejanus chuckled, hugging him back.
Coryo laughs slightly, pulling away and grabbing his shoulders. "Oh, no. Quite the opposite. What are you doing here?"
"About the same as you." He shrugs, sliding his things under the bed below Coryo's. "They were going to expel me, but my dad paid them for my grad certificate and let them send me here. They got a new gym on the condition that they let us both graduate."
Coryo should be relieved, but a graduation certificate doesn't matter much if he's stuck here for the next twenty years. "And Y/N/N?" He asks.
"Y/N?" Sejanus asks, lifting his head back in confusion. "What about her?"
"Did she graduate too?"
"I... I don't know, I didn't know she was in trouble. We were told she was sick."
Coriolanus's stomach drops. That's a story he'd certainly heard before, and he didn't like at all how that ended. He swallows, nodding a little bit as he looks at the floor. "So you didn't see her at all?"
"No... Not since the last time I saw you." Sejanus states. It had been a few weeks now. "But, her mother came to our door a week or so ago, real early in the morning. Ma shooed me away but I heard them talking, it seemed like she didn't know where Y/N was either. She was looking for her, wondering if any of us had seen her."
Again, this is what Coryo had seen before with what happened to Clemensia. Her parents weren't allowed to see her at all while she was in the hospital. "I think she's dead." He admits.
"What? What makes you say that?" His friend gasps.
"I... I heard her screaming when I left our meeting with Highbottom." Coriolanus explains. "At first it was normal Y/N screaming, you know, but then it got worse and worse until it just... stopped." He hoped Sejanus would change his story, that he would remember seeing you at school or on the streets or at one of your parent's obnoxious parties, having a good time, and being yourself. That maybe he had just forgotten, but the look on Sejanus's face tells him that didn't happen.
It was Sejanus's turn to look down now, giving a solemn nod. "I mean, no." He laughs suddenly, shaking his head. "They wouldn't kill her on campus- if you could hear it, she's not dead. They wouldn't kill her just like that, right?" He says, trying to convince himself of that truth. "Surely she's just sick. Maybe grounded, or something."
"Yeah, yeah. Probably..." Coriolanus concedes, hoping that somehow Sejanus was right.
Simultaneously, you were adjusting beautifully to life in District Twelve. You got in the habit of borrowing Lucy Gray and Barb Azure's clothes, and they let you sleep on the floor between their beds. For the first time in your life, you were free. No one knew you, no one had a single expectation of you besides Tam Amber appreciating your help with the goats and occasionally going to the market with Lucy Gray and Maude Ivory to get food. It was refreshing, to say the very least. Everyday you felt yourself unwinding more and more.
"Do you play any instruments, Y/N?" Maude Ivory asks you, skipping to catch up to you as you hike down a trail out to the lake with the rest of the covey.
"I do, actually." You nod at her, a small smile on your face. "Try three."
"Three!" She claps excitedly. "What do you play? You'll have to perform with us! Do they have different instruments where you're from?"
"Not really." You giggle, putting your hands in the pockets of your bright red skirt. "I play the piano, and the violin, which is just like Clerk Carmine's fiddle, but much more boring, and a harp, if you've ever heard of that."
"You play the fiddle?" The young girl smiles.
"Not like he does." You smile at the boy as he walks ahead of you, not paying any attention.
"I'm sure you're just as well." Lucy Gray interjects, bumping her shoulder with yours as she walks next to you. "Maude Ivory, you should hear her projection. I'm yet to hear her sing, but boy, can she yell."
"I can't sing." You laugh, shaking your head. "Back home you don't sing unless you're training for the opera, and you have to start that around the same time you learn to walk. My parents would rather me learn the piano."
"Then why am I the one yellin' at all our shows? You should step up." Maude Ivory giggles, and you just shake your head, ruffling her hair.
"I definitely couldn't do it nearly as well as you." You insist. "Besides, I have stage fright." You joke, mostly to get her off your back.
She laughs as she fixes her hair, running to catch up with the kids in front of her.
"She just adores you." Lucy Gray smiles. "It's nice to have a new face around."
You smile, watching Maude Ivory collect flowers from the side of the road. "She reminds me of my brother. They're about the same age."
"Right, you lent me his guitar." Lucy Gray says, a particular sadness in her tone tipping you off that she believes you should be upset about leaving him. You miss him, sure, but he's better off now with you gone. Besides, he couldn't be any worse than you. Your parents have always doted over him, and there's no doubt in your mind that now that you are gone, it's multiplied.
"Yes. That's him." You reply, accompanying a moment of silence between the two of you.
"Do you miss him?"
"Sure." You nod, kicking a small stone down the path in front of you. "But he's better off without me there. That brings me enough peace to sleep at night."
"Hey, can I ask you something?"
"Shoot." You smile at her, grateful for the change of topic.
"What happened to Coriolanus?" For the first time in weeks, you feel a pinch of discontent in your gut at her question.
"I don't know." You lie, shrugging your shoulders. You don't even know why you felt the urge to lie at all, you knew he was here somewhere but you hadn't seen him once. Out of sight, out of mind is what you have been trying to convince yourself. "He's alive, I'm sure. Peacekeeping in one of the districts probably."
"Oh, I was hoping you would know more."
"It would be nice." You agree. "But he's not exactly in my good graces at the moment."
"It feels so out of character for him to betray you like that, doesn't it?" Lucy Gray asks.
You laugh, shaking your head. "It was unusual. That's what I thought, anyway." You sigh, giving a slight shrug. "I haven't told anyone, but we had... I don't know, a moment, a few weeks ago. During the games. Just a couple of days later and he's throwing me under the bus like I meant nothing to him. We've been friends for years- I thought everything was about to change for the better, and then..."
"That's cruel." She says disapprovingly. "I bet he's sorry now that you're gone with the wind. He's regretting it. I promise you that much."
You smile slightly at the thought, allowing yourself to entertain it, if only for a moment. "He better be."
"Is that for me? Oh, c'mon y'all, you know that I gave up drinkin' when I was twelve..." Lucy Gray says, taking a sip out of the clear liquor bottle someone in the audience handed to her. "Oh, It's to clear my pipes, just to clear my pipes." She clarifies, tossing the bottle back into the audience.
Coriolanus watches leaning against the side wall of The Hob. He's happy to see that Lucy Gray is back to doing what she loved, and she made it home alive and well. He's also more than pleased to finally get off the barracks for something other than work. "Now, who's ready for a song, huh?" She smiles, looking down off the stage to her right. "Okay, comin' right up. First, I'd like to introduce to the stage with a big welcome, a grand ole friend of mine, The lovely Sage!" She says, giggling at her rhyme as another girl climbs up on stage, giving Maude Ivory and Lucy Gray a quick hug each.
Coriolanus looks away as the crowd cheers, scanning the crowd for Sejanus who had just excused himself to grab a drink a couple minutes ago. He's wondering where his roommate could have disappeared to when Lucy Gray's friend starts speaking.
"Well hello, everyone, so lovely to meet you all! I have never felt so welcome anywhere." His head snaps back to the stage. He'd know that Capitol accent anywhere, even as you pause to allow any cheers to quiet down. "I mean that." You grin, hands clutched to your chest. "And that feels so good, considering Lucy Gray all but forced me up here." You laugh, draping an arm over her shoulder, letting her take back over. How could this be real? Coryo is tempted to rub his eyes or pinch himself to make sure he's even awake. He was so sure you were dead, but despite the different name and completely different clothes, he was positive it was you. The pang in his chest made that obvious, along with the wave of surrealism that suddenly surrounded him so all he could see was you.
"Now, my beautiful girl Sage here will be taking over for our friend on the fiddle, we'll give the band a quick break, and we're gonna have a bit of a change of pace while she's lending us her talents." Lucy Gray says, and Coriolanus watches as you take the beat-up violin from the young boy gratefully. He knew you played, but he hadn't heard it for years. You looked so calm, something he wasn't sure he had seen in public since you were young. He can't pull his eyes from your figure as it graces the stage with your presence, lighting up the room even if it was only for him.
A small smile grows on his face as you start to play, several whistles echoing through the room before Lucy Gray even joins in with her singing. He wants to scream, to cheer and clap and yell and tell everyone in this dark, rundown building that this 'Sage' was his. Inarguably and undoubtedly his. Coryo's pride is only curtailed when he recognizes the song; it was the ballad Lucy Gray played in her interview on your brother's guitar.
The sophistication your violin playing brought to the piece almost made it sadder and infinitely more haunting. It's beautiful. Now with your classical touch, the song sets a pit of guilt in his stomach. That somehow, even without you singing, it's now a ballad from you to him.
"Just let me remind you what I am to you..."
He makes eye contact with Lucy Gray as he shifts his gaze away from you. She pauses for only a moment, hands still moving rhythmically over the strings of her guitar. She smiles and nods at him, jaw slightly agape as she glances back at you to see if you noticed him. When it's clear you haven't, she gets back on track with the words within only a moment.
"'Cause I am the one who looks out when you're leaping. I am the one who knows how you were brave..."  Your lips turn up in a small smile as she sings, eyes still shut while you focus. Even though he's sure you're thinking of him, it doesn't bring him much consolation. Well, at least you were thinking of him. He would take it.
The song ends as quickly as it starts, and despite the slower tone, the audience is still excited. More so as the band returns to the stage and you return the violin to Clerk Carmine before turning back around to give a bow. You wave out to the audience, reveling in the whistles and praise before reaching out for an extended hand, accepting it as its owner helps you down. "That was stunnin', where'd you learn to play like that? I've never heard anything quite like it." The man asks, still holding your hand out in between you.
"Oh, thank you. I've been playing my whole life." You grin as the music picks up again.
"Can you dance like you can play?" He asks, lifting your arm to spin you.
"I can certainly try." You laugh, going along with it as he pulls you into a more open space of the crowd, and to Coriolanus, it seems like you're taunting him. You're dancing like you don't have a care in the world, dressed in a skirt that looked like it was made out of a red bed sheet cut up and stitched back together in half-hazard squares, and what looked like one of your t-shirts cut up into a tank top that exposes most of your stomach and back. Appallingly too, a smile present on your face that he had dreamt of seeing again one day but was certain he never would. The only problem is that you're dancing with someone else. Not that he was much of a dancer, but he could try if he had known that's what you wanted.
He's planning his method of attack. He can't leave without speaking to you, because he doesn't even know if you'll be back here the next time he gets a day off. Though, based on your appearance and newfound carelessness, it's likely.
His urge is just to kiss you, but the only thing holding him back is that it could set you off. If you hadn't heard his apology from miles away, would you still be angry at him? But actions speak louder than words. He knows that physicality works with you, and it was hard to deny that he hadn't dreamt of how soft your lips felt on his for weeks. One time was just simply not enough for Coryo.
Coriolanus scowls as the man you're dancing with spins you again, making you laugh as he drapes an arm around your waist.
Maybe he should get Sejanus, see if he's seen you yet.
Another spin, and a hand sliding lower down your bare back as the man pulls you closer, his fingers landing on the waistband of your skirt. When was the last time that scumbag had so much as washed his hands? Coryo wonders to himself, rage boiling up under his skin.
Kiss her. Definitely kiss her.
But if the song choice was any indicator, you definitely weren't pleased with him. It couldn't be, though, because how would you know he would be in attendance? Coryo finds his feet carrying him through the crowd, pushing past a dozen carelessly drunk people in his effort to get to you before he's even thought it all through.
Your brow furrows as a body forces itself between you and your dancing partner. "Hey! What are you-" You cut yourself off, hypnotized by the cold blue eyes staring down at you.
That's my girl. Even though you're angry, Coriolanus is grateful to be the object of your gaze once more.
"'Scuse me, man, do you mind?" The man says, making an effort to push Coryo away. He turns, and before you can intervene he's swinging his fist right at the other guy's face, finding its target in a fraction of a second.
He stumbles back, grabbing his face as it immediately drips blood from his nose onto the floor. There are gasps in the crowd as it disperses around you.
"Hey, settle down, settle down now." You hear Lucy Gray call out amidst the music playing in the background while you grab the back of Coryo's shirt, pulling him back before he continues to beat up your dancing partner.
"Coriolanus, what are you doing here?" You shout over the music. He shakes out his fist, turning back to you now and grabbing your face, pulling you closer to kiss you instead of dignifying you with a response. His actions would certainly speak louder.
You want to be angry, but that falters as you feel his lips on yours again, his hands planted firmly on either side of your waist as he holds onto you so tight you weren't sure breathing was an option- even if you could. You followed him here, of course you wanted to see him, but how could he betray you so easily and expect forgiveness in a kiss?
It takes you longer than it probably should to build up the courage to place your hands on his chest, shoving him back. "What is wrong with you?" You spit, looking him up and down in the blue uniform signified of a peacekeeper off duty.
"What's wrong with me?" He asks, looking around and gauging how many people were even taking notice. "What do you mean, Y/N/N, I wanted to-" Clearly you hadn't heard his silent apology, or it just wasn't enough.
"Hey!" You hiss, jumping at him and attempting to cover his mouth at the use of your nickname, and he quickly swats away your hand. "Let's go. Outside, now." You shove him back by his chest, pointing towards the exit.
You look up at Lucy Gray on stage, still singing as she watches you nervously. You give her a nod and a small reassuring smile before linking arms with Coryo and guiding him toward the door. Just like old times.
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i've closed my taglist for coryo now!! sorry to everyone who wanted to be added, but unfortunately there was significantly more demand than i expected and i sadly just cant tag everyone. BUT! if you still want notifications when i post for this fic, please turn on my post notifs!!
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mondaymelon · 1 year
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when they first fell in love with you. ♡
(sumeru genshin impact males x gn!reader)
written headcanon style! enjoy ✩
(a/n) might be writing a part two of this with tighnari and some other male genshin characters so please comment which characters you would like to see! thank you for reading ♡
˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚*ੈ✩‧₊˚
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cyno ♡
he was never the emotional man, at least not around other people. but to you, he was just the hobby-chasing mahamatra who liked to play card games religiously.
the two of you met a long time ago, years before, during his time at the academia. The two of you had the same biology class. over the course of half a semester and more than a few group projects, you could say the two of you had grown relatively close.
close enough that cyno, being cyno, was comfortable enough to tell always tell you his most terrible jokes.
"hey. why did the biologist break up with the physicist?"
you had stared at him quizzically, not sure if this was a test or an actual question about the work, but replied anyway. "what?"
"they... had no chemistry."
"..."
"do you get it - because like chemistry is a subject of science and biologists study the science of life and we're in science class and-"
he'll never forget the way you laughed that day. the way your serious expression faded into one trying to hold back laughter, and the way your lips curved upwards instantly... he felt his heart skip a beat as you let out a quiet giggle under your breath. he didn't know why or what, but a wave of affection swept over him, almost engulfing him completely before he reeled it back, face tinted red.
"hehe, you're funny, cyno." you had told him, smiling sweetly, still struggling to mute your laughs.
"am i?" cynos crimson eyes were wide as he looked at you with a look of surprise.
"mhm!" you nodded at him, beaming. "oh, are you free after school today? we should meet up to do the homework."
cyno hid his face from you then, face burning and flushed red as he mumbled out a response. "i'm free."
"great!" you slid him a slip of paper, torn off of your biology worksheet. "i figured you should have my number. don't forget to text me, okay?"
"i won't."
and he kept his word.
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al haitham ♡
it all happened after the school announced an academia-wide field trip to the desert, quite the far trek in hindsight. you were surprised the school even agreed to it. that aside, the entire school was excited about it, especially to people who had moved from the sandy dunes to the lively rainforest in order to study at the academia.
however, al haitham, your literature class partner, had stayed silent. you glanced at him several times throughout the entire day, but his expression didn't change one bit, nor did he even look from his book.
"al haitham." you called out his name, eyes sparkling curiously. "what are you reading?"
"a comprehensive look at sumeru's last 300 years." his answer was short and quick. you whistled, impressed that he was willingly reading such a text.
"are you going on the field trip?" you questioned, wanting to ask but not wanting to annoy him.
"i see no reason not to." yet another blatant answer. he turned the page absent-mindingly, eyes trailing from sentence to sentence. you decided to let him read, not wanting to bother him more than you already had.
just then, a group of students walked into the room, bustling about loudly and chatting amongst themselves not too quietly at all. if they noticed the two of you, they certainly didn't care. they laughed and shouted some more before taking the tables next to where the two of you sat and continued to squawk about.
you caught al haitham wincing at the noise, mutely noting the fact that he had taken off his headphones. you never realized the ashen-haired man had sensitive hearing, but now a lot more things made sense- especially the fact that haitham never ate lunch, like the other students, in the cafeteria.
hesitantly, you reached up and cupped your hands over al haitham's exposed ears. "is it too loud?" you whispered as quietly as you could, hoping that al haitham wouldn't be bothered by your question.
as you glanced down at his expression, his look of astoundment startled you. his emerald eyes sparkled with a look of tenderness that you would've expected as he gazed up at you, his diamond shaped pupils staring up at you and you only.
then, so subtle you almost missed it, he whispered, face flushed:
"thank you."
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kaveh ♡
kaveh was always a friendly person, and that was certainly not an exception when it came to you. after a class, he would always burst into the room and come to walk you to your next one.
it come to a point where you would wait for him to show up after the lecture ended, purposely packing up your things slower as you scanned the door for any signs of the blonde man. and he always showed up.
always.
except, then he didn't. you waited until the students of the next hour began to come in, and then waited more until you were sure you were already late. yet, he still didn't show up. worry began gnawing at your stomach as you fidgeted through all of your classes that day, mind cloudy.
and he wasn't there the day after that, either. you missed his presence, his sunny demeanor, and his blushing reaction whenever you decided to tease him.
after about a week of the constant torture, he showed up again, grinning and raising his hand as if he was expecting a wave after your design class.
and you didn't just give him a wave. you dropped all your things instantly, eyes wide and teary, and leaped onto the man, sending both of you tumbling to the ground as you gave him the tightest hug you could manage.
underneath you, kaveh let out a shout of surprise, trying to get you off of him so he could get up, but he wouldn't budge. and he glanced down at you, confused at what had gotten you so worked up, he spotted glistening tears spilling down your face.
"wh-what's happened?" he questioned with a worried expression as he helped you up, tears still running down from your eyes. "did someone hurt you? who was it??"
"idiot..." you leaned against his figure, burying your face into his chest, not caring if you were to be late or not. "you left without a word...!"
"i-i'm sorry-!" kaveh glanced down at your figure clinging onto him, face flushed as his heart pounded so loud that he was sure you would be able to hear it. "i caught a cold..."
"don't leave me again like that, okay??"
"o-okay."
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wanderer ♡
you had known him for a long time now, you would've admitted if you had no other choice but to be truthful. but it was a hopeless thing, since never once did he ever seem to notice you - much less care about you or your wellbeing.
at least he had never outright told you that he disliked your presence. it was a small comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.
so it was a surprise when he showed up at your doorstep, clothes and hair drenched from the relentless rain outside. he stared at the ground sheepishly, expression embarrassed as he spoke. "i... i didn't have anywhere else to go."
"oh." you had stood there for quite a bit, mouth rounded and eyes wide before returning to your senses. "you can come inside. i'll get you a towel."
the dark-haired man nodded silently, stepping outside as drops of water fell from the sides of his hat. you halted, whipping around. "leave that on the porch."
"but-"
"it's wet. it's going to be no help when we try to get you dry." seeing scaramouche's face fall, you cleared your throat. "but if you must, you can leave it in the mudroom."
"...alright."
you weren't even sure why he was sitting in your living room, a towel around him and sitting on your couch by the fireside, slowly sipping a hot mug of tea. he didn't seem to be thinking of speaking anytime soon, so you did it in his place.
"did you need something?" you questioned him after taking a long sip from your own mug.
"no, i just..." he shook his head. "can i stay here? just for a little while longer?"
the softness in his voice startled you, but you managed to give him an answer without stuttering either way. "you can stay for however long you want." at your response, you saw the male's eyes light up, along with his face flushing a bit too, an action that was not gone unnoticed.
"...i appreciate it. i want you to know that i really do. thank you."
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