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daycourtofficial · 5 months

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Your Love is My Drug

Summary: This is very similar to Love Potion No. 9, but flipped. You get drugged while on a mission, and the side effects are… interesting. Azriel takes care of you, causing your feelings to bubble to the surface.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, dry humping(which is super under appreciated btw). MINORS DNI

Author’s note: this is my first time writing smut, so I hope it turns out okay!

Entering into Keir’s study took your breath away. Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, and you came up to the Hewn City to look for some papers Keir might have hidden in his study, which you and Feyre are about to search as Cassian and Rhys stay with Keir.

The walls were lined with tons of vials of potions, brews, and mysterious liquids. Syringes loose with unknown poisons inside, ancient books open, every surface covered.

“Keir gives me the creeps,” you tell Feyre, shuffling through the desk, skimming all the loose papers for what you need.

“He gives everyone the creeps,” she laughs.

After several minutes of searching, Feyre finds what she needs, holding it up in the air like a trophy. “Let’s go,” she says, reaching out for you, when a guard makes his presence known behind you by jabbing a syringe into your neck and pushing down.

You push him off of you, as Feyre runs for you, grabbing your hand, and winnowing you two away.

You arrive in the townhouse, and Feyre is clearly communicating with Rhys while she tries to check you over for injury.

Her prodding questions slightly annoy you, you telling her you’re fine and you just need some water. You feel a little fuzzy, a little unsteady, but overall very happy.

Feyre returns with some water, and in the moment of her absence, your demeanor has changed drastically.

“Thank you, Feyre darling!” You giggle, toasting the water to her, “so pretty, so sweet, such a good friend.” You mutter, your hand touching her cheek. You gulp down some water and continue, “Rhysand is very lucky to have you, you have spunk kid.” You end your statement by booping her on the nose and leaning against her.

Cassian and Rhysand winnow in to see Feyre holding you up, as you giggle into her hair, “when you shapeshift, what happens to your clothes? Do they stay under your fur? Or do you have to get new clothes?”

Cassian wants to laugh, it was a fair question, but all he and Rhys knew is that someone drugged you before you all quickly escaped. After dropping Cassian off, Rhys had winnowed away again in search of Madja.

“Cassian!” You yell, forgetting about Feyre and moving to embrace Cassian. Despite your state, you had quite the grip on him now as you embrace him.

“Cassian, you’re so funny,” you pull his face down so you can look at his face, “and you have very nice teeth,” you say, opening his lips so you can see his teeth. You pull his lips up so he’s smiling, “such a nice smile.”

“What is happening,” Cassian asks through the smile you’re making him wear.

“I don’t know,” Feyre responds, coming over, “we came in and she slowly got loopier and loopier.”

“Cassian,” you look at him with such intense sadness he’s terrified of what you have to say, coming closer to his face as you drop your voice,“do your wings get cold when you’re flying up high in the sky? Especially during winter?”

Cassian can’t help the laugh that erupts from him, the seriousness of your face, the concern in your tone, and the absurdity of the question make him lose it.

“They get a little chilly,” he admits, looking down at your adorably concerned face, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

You look at his wings, “you could wear a scarf around them.”

Before Cassian can explain how scarves would make his street cred go down, Rhys winnows with Madja.

“Rhysie!” You say, loosening your grip around Cassian, turning to confront another victim to your ramblings, until Cassian wraps his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

“Let me go,” you say, trying to get Cassian to release you. “Let Madja look over you first, then you can attack Rhysie poo,” he replies.

Rhys gives his mate and his brother confused glances, speaking internally while Madja looks you over and you babble to Madja the whole time.

They tune back in to hear you telling Madja she’s really good at her job, and however much money Rhysand is paying her he should double it.

“Okay, Madja,” Rhys interjects, “what do you think?”

“I think,” Madja says, ending her examination, “if what you say is true, then she got incredibly lucky. I’m not sure if it’s because the potion was old or because of her body reacting to it, but this potion is nothing more than an intense drunken state. She’s very loopy, and she’ll need close watching. Her impulse control is way down, and anything that seems fun she might just do without thinking.”

As her sentence tapered off, Azriel’s shadows carried him into the room, alarm on his face. Clearly Rhys had asked him to come back at the first sign that something was wrong with you.

Azriel’s entrance caused Cassian’s arms to slacken around you, and you took off racing for him yelling, “Azzie!” Before launching into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Oh my gods you won’t believe what happened we were looking through Keir’s stupid ugly office and it had like tens of millions of potions and Feyre found the paper we needed and then this big mean guy came in and stabbed me right in the neck like a vampire but he wasn’t a vampire he was just ugly and then when he stabbed me something went into my blood but I’m all better now it’s gone.”

Azriel stood, looking between Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian, while you clung to him like a koala. He wasn’t even holding you up, you were just clinging to him, not taking a second to breathe during your story.

“She is not all better now,” Madja told him, looking at her pointedly. “She’ll be fine eventually, but until this potion exits her system she needs to be closely monitored.”

“I feel fine watch if I wasn’t fine could I do this?” You ask, pulling your hands from Azriel’s neck. What you planned to do he had no idea, but you started to fall so he had reach out wrapping his arms around you quickly before you fell.

Whatever you were doing with your hands, he couldn’t see, but he heard Cassian ask, “what is she trying to do?”

Rhys turns to the healer, “do you have any guesses as to what potion this was?”

The old healer grins, catching Rhysand by surprise, dropping her voice conspiratorially.

“I’d be willing to bet anything that it’s a love potion. Bet anything again that you won’t be able to pry her away from your shadowsinger. Sometimes when love potions get old, things become a bit muddier between platonic and romantic love, hence her jumping between the three of you.”

The four of them turn to look at you and Azriel, the two of you engrossed in a conversation Rhys thinks is about snails, but isn’t sure.

She lowers her voice, drawing their attentions again, “Once someone is under a love potion, though, they get very upset when away from the object of their affections.”

“And you think it’s him?” Feyre asks, even though they all know it’s a stupid question.

Madja gives her a look, rolling her eyes so hard she might strain herself, “only a fool wouldn’t recognize her devotion to him, and vice versa.”

Madja starts to leave, speaking louder for you and Azriel to hear, “again, she’ll be fine, you just can’t let her out of your sight until it’s gone. She is, essentially, a drunk toddler.”

The five of you convened in Rhys’s office to give a full report of what happened. Even though Azriel wasn’t there, he was still in attendance due to 1) his desire to know what happened and 2) your insistence that he be there. You hadn’t left his arms since jumping into them, just babbling away while he carried you to Rhys’s office, and now you were curled up in his lap, your head tucked into his neck, playing with one of his siphons.

“She’s actually quite adorable like this,” Cassian mumbles. They all turned to look at you, enthralled by the siphon as Azriel makes it glow and dim. “Can we keep her like this?”

“As adorable as she may be, she can’t stay like this forever,” Rhys replies. You lean across Azriel over to Cassian, grabbing one of his siphons too.

Feyre giggles, watching you hold the two up to the light, watching how pretty the look. You grab one of Azriel’s other siphons and start juggling with them. Cassian lunges forward for his siphon, but you are surprisingly very good at juggling and keeping Cassian’s siphon away from him by planting your foot on his chest.

“Where do you keep the other ones when you don’t need them? Do you have a jewelry box for them?” You ask, not taking your eyes off them as you throw them around.

“Essentially, yes. They’re kept in special boxes.” Cassian replies, still nervous you’ll break one.

“Can anyone use your siphon? Like could Cassian use yours or vice versa?” You poke your tongue out in concentration, no idea that you’ve disrupted their discussion.

“No, siphons are picky, they pick their masters,” Azriel replies.

You catch all the siphons, ending your juggling routine with a little bow of your head.

“Anyway,” Rhys drawls, “we need to set up a schedule to watch her - considering her state I don’t want to leave her with servants. Feyre and I have a dinner to attend tonight-“

“I can watch her,” Azriel’s words cut Rhys off, “don’t worry about it.”

“Brother-“

“If I need help, I’ll ask Cassian. My shadows can help me keep an extra eye out.”

They all peered at you, having nestled back into Azriel’s chest and fallen asleep in the moment they took their eyes off of you, clutching the siphons to your chest as your chest slowly rose and fell. Rhysand looked at his brother, the two continuing their discussion telepathically.

Are you sure you can handle this alone? We don’t know how long it will last. It could be flushed out by the morning or could stay in her system for a week.

If you think I can’t handle taking care of one drugged girl then why am I your spymaster?

Because we both know she isn’t just some girl to you.

Azriel sighs mentally, causing Rhys to smirk.

Look, I’d be watching over her anyway. Do you really think I would leave her alone with Cassian in this state? She’d trick him into letting her run out the door within five minutes.

And you think you’re immune to her charms?

Azriel gives him a look, and Rhys decides to back off, changing the topic of discussion.

They had stayed in Rhys’s office for about an hour after you had nodded off, discussing what to do about Keir now that he likely knows what was stolen. A few minutes after you nodded off Rhys got you a blanket, the outfit you wore to the Hewn City not nearly enough to keep you warm. You had slept through most of the meeting, waking once to move your leg and taking the opportunity to swipe another one of Cassian’s siphons while he wasn’t looking. You had settled back onto Azriel’s chest, and he heard you whisper, “so cozy, so warm,” before nuzzling back into him and falling back asleep.

You’re not sure how long you were asleep when Azriel gently nudged you awake. He smiled at you sweetly, “come on, you need to eat and bathe before going to sleep.”

You groan, nuzzling further into his neck. “Don’t wanna, too sleepy,” trying to sound mean and intimidating so he’ll leave you be, but it just comes out adorable instead.

You hear Cassian chuckling, causing you to tighten your grip on the siphons you forgot you were holding. You peak out from Azriel’s neck, looking to Cassian, “what are you laughing at, bat boy, can’t even get your precious siphons back from a sleeping lady.”

Everyone but Cassian laughs, as he launches over to you, arms outreached to get them back. You squeal, “Az, save me,” ducking back under the blanket.

Suddenly the room is very quiet, and you peak your head out to find that Azriel has winnowed the two of you into one of his chairs in his room at the House of Wind.

“Thank you,” you say, “now you’re an accomplice in my thievery. Partners in crime, we are.”

He laughs, “we’ll hang together.”

You laugh, suddenly becoming sad, “if we hang together, will you hold my hand until the end?”

“Anytime,” he says. You take him up on this offer, and reach out to hold his hand then. You hold his left hand in both of yours, examining the entirety of his hand, before planting a soft kiss on the palm of his left then his right hand. “So pretty,” you murmur.

Azriel’s stunned into silence, but you fill the void with your voice, “I love your hands. The scars are beautiful. I think about your hands a lot - the things they’ve endured, the things they’ve done. They are still beautiful, they’re a part of you, and you are the most beautiful of all.”

You turn in his seat, grabbing his face in your left hand, tracing his face with your right. “You’re so beautiful, scars and all, demons and all.” Your eyes trace his face, as if committing this poximity to memory. “I could look at you forever and never feel restless.”

He is stunned, unsure if this is the drug making you think he’s someone else or just making things up in your mind, when he says, “you’ve been drugged, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I don’t know what I’m saying, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be true.”

Your words sound incredibly sobering. Azriel can’t let this conversation keep going, he needed you aware and 100% into it to have this conversation. Besides, this is a conversation he’s accepted should never happen to preserve your friendship.

“Okay, do you want to eat or bathe first?”

You laugh, your moment of lucidity over, “can I take the siphons in the bath?”

Azriel prepared a bath for you with the special soap that makes the water bubble up. He helped unzip your dress, then looked away as you got into the bath. He would have let you bathe alone, however there was a slight concern you might drown or slip when you got out.

He heard you sink into the bath that was practically overflowing with bubbles. “Can I look now?”

“You could have been looking the whole time, silly.”

Since your confession while holding his hands, you had become much flirtier than usual. When he unzipped your dress you made a dirty joke that made his cheeks flush.

“Azzy,” the nickname rolling off your tongue, a nickname he usually doesn’t care for, but coming from your lips sounds divine.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, as he turns around to look at you in the bath.

“You have something on your face,” you tell him, giggling as he comes closer. When he’s close enough you grab his shirt and pull him into the tub, water spilling over the edge of the tub, coating the floor.

He’s spluttering as his head emerges, trying to breathe from the shock of the sudden dunk. He looks at you, annoyance with just a hint of amusement covering his face.

“Well, I had asked if you’d join me, and you said no,” you giggle, scooping up some bubbles into your hands and blowing them in his face.

Azriel concedes, unsure of what you’d do if he left the tub, so he settles in across from you, his legs surrounding the sides of your legs. Your very naked legs, hidden by the bubbles. This bath was excruciating for him, knowing that the only thing covering you were bubbles that would be gone in about fifteen minutes was actual torture.

“Okay, you got me in here, now what is your plan?”

You squint, thinking. You raise your hand, signaling with your finger for him to come closer. He leans closer, and you grab some bubbles, sticking them to his face.

“Bubble beard!” You exclaim while laughing. “You look like a pirate.”

You spent the remainder of your bath trying to get him out of his clothes, telling him how weird it was he was bathing fully clothed. Having you naked in his tub was already hard enough for him, removing his clothes as well? He’d lose all restraint on keeping your advances at bay.

The whole bath you kept whining, wanting to be in his lap again, or just having more contact than his legs touching your legs. You started rubbing your hands up his calves, and he has never wanted to rip off his clothing to feel someone’s touch quite like he had in that moment.

Your touch on his legs, the way you were looking at him like he was the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen and like he was a meal, the loss of bubbles giving him a better view of your breasts through the water. It was all too much.

Azriel jolted out of the water, standing in the tub and starting to put his legs over the edge to get out. You laugh at all the water that rushes over the sides of the tub, “what’s wrong Azzie?”

That nickname, your body in the tub, his disruption causing a lot of water to leave the tub, leaving your breasts exposed for him.

He was about to leave, about to get out before he did something he regretted, when he smelled it. He could smell your arousal, so sweet and so hot he practically moans at it.

“Sit, please,” you say, grabbing his hands and pulling him down to sit back in the bath. He complies, his brain making him think of sirens luring men to their deaths in the sea.

As he sits, wings splaying over the rim of the rub, you keep your hands in his, but you stay much closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. Keeping your eyes on his, you tell him, “a bath is no place for clothes.”

He shivers, as you trace your hands up his thighs. “Sweetheart, we can’t. You’re drugged.”

“I might be drugged,” you say, unable to keep yourself away, crawling into his lap, “but I can assure you I dream of you in every way imaginable. Sexual, romantic. I want to give you the moon.”

At this point you’re straddling his waist, starting to grind against his hard cock still in his pants. The bath water sloshing in the tub at your gentle rhythms. Azriel has to grip the edges of the tub to ground himself, remind him that this is real, not a dream.

He tips his head back, about to tell you no again, when you start attacking his neck with your mouth, littering hot, needy kisses up and down the column of his throat.

The coordinated attack of your faster rhythm and your mouth on his neck might actually cause Azriel to burst right into his pants, and then you start speaking again and he’s sure he’ll come undone in this bath.

“Think about you all the time.”

Bite.

“Think about how good your cock would feel inside of me.”

Suck.

“I touch myself almost every night thinking of what you could do to me.”

Moan.

It was all so much for Az. The confinement of his cock, the feel of you on him, he let go of the edges of the tub, opting to place them on the sides of your hips, helping guide you across his clothed length.

Azriel had never seen you so in command, so confident, and it made him want to devour you.

“I’ve always wondered how well the soundproofing on the rooms is because every night I am moaning your name, hoping you’ll come and actually make me moan.”

He digs his fingers into your sides deeper, finally able to remember his voice, “believe me, sweetheart, if I heard you moaning my name I’d burst through the door and have you moaning it all night.”

His left hand reaches up, grazing over your right breast. He’s gazing at you like you’re a recently discovered piece of art that hasn’t been seen in centuries.

“Can I hear it now?” He asks, thrusting up against your wet heat.

You moan his name, and he thrusts harder. You two are going faster, your hands roaming his body, his hands roaming yours. What’s left of the water is sloshing furiously, most of the water landing on the floor.

“I think about your hands exploring every inch of me.”

Both of your moans are echoing through the bathroom, a chorus of pleasures creating an erotic symphony.

“Azriel” you moan, practically vibrating from your climax, your mind going blank except for thoughts of him, but still moving because you need him to finish too.

The way you said his name drove Azriel over the edge, the two of you finishing together, in a practically empty tub.

Chests heaving, the entire floor coated in water, the euphoria fades entirely too quickly for Azriel’s liking with the weight of what he’s just done.

He took advantage of you. You’re drugged, you have no idea what’s going on, you probably have no idea who you just dry humped into completion.

He gets out of the bath, you still curled up to his chest. He pulls his wet pants off and grabs each of you a towel. He slings his towel around his hips, and sets you down so he can sling a towel around you as well.

You accept it, nuzzling back into his chest and he feels his heart lurch knowing that once your potion wears off, you’ll never be able to look at him again.

He braids your wet hair, despite your protests, and he goes with you to pick out some pajamas from your room, under your insistence.

As he gets dressed he has his shadows check the whole house. After getting the all clear, the two of you scamper down the hall, him in gray sweatpants and you in nothing but a towel.

Your room is neat and tidy like his, but you have much more decor around the room. Stacks of books, little framed photos, snow globes even.

He can’t help himself from snooping as you find a nightgown, and he spots a box on your vanity that seems to lure him, almost calling his name.

He opens the lid to find every note the two of you have passed during boring meetings or whenever the two of you do paperwork in the library and pass notes back and forth.

He smiles, the one top from him stating “if Cassian doesn’t stop chewing his bubble gum like that I might kill him”.

You cough, startling him. “I’m ready!” You say.

He spins around, closing the box, hoping you didn’t catch him snooping. If he thought the bath was torture, your nightgown is even worse. Flimsy straps, one of which has already fallen off your shoulder, midnight black, a small bow between your breasts. It barely covers your ass, for Mother’s sake.

He was in for a long night.

After much fighting and whining and convincing, you convince Azriel to sleep in the bed with you, promising you’ll keep your hands to yourself, except to cuddle. Azriel didn’t realize just how much you would use that stipulation to be practically on top of him all night.

It surprises him a bit, how easy it is to lay in bed with you, his left wing underneath you, pulling you towards him.

He’s decided you’re going to hate him whenever the drug wears off no matter what, so he’s all in on getting as much of you as he can.

The weight of your head on his chest, your arm draped over his stomach, your slow breathing as you dream. It’s more comforting than he’d expect, and before he can stop it he’s fallen asleep.

You woke the next morning, opening your eyes only to make direct eye contact with Azriel, sitting in the chair next to his bed.

“Good morning,” he tells you, a smile crossing his face. He’s anticipating silly, loopy you who is incredibly bold. Instead he watches your eyes widen, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as the memories all come back.

At first the memories were a little embarrassing, but easily written off. The more that come back to you, the more your cheeks heat.

Jumping on him, sitting in his lap, straddling him, forcing him into your bath.

“Oh my gods,” you stammer, shuffling in the bed to sit up. “Azriel, oh my gods I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”

Azriel’s moved to sit next to you on the bed. “No, I’m sorry. I was lucid, and I took advantage of you in a vulnerable moment. I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

He starts to rise to leave until you dart out a hand around his wrist, “you? Taking advantage of me? I held you down and made you cum! I assaulted you! In a bathtub!” You’re not sure why the only part of that you whispered is ‘bathtub’.

“Look Az, I was pretty lucid, I just had no reservations. No impulse control. All I ever want to do is jump your bones and you were taking care of me and being so nice I couldn’t stop myself.” You fall back on the bed, putting your hands over your face, wanting the shame of assaulting the man you’re in love with to consume you.

He reaches out, removing your hands, “you want to jump my bones all the time?”

He’s smirking. The bastard is smirking at being assaulted.

Him holding your hands means you can’t hide, and you’ve already done something unforgivable so might as well put it all out there.

You sit up straighter to look him in the eye as you say, “Okay, fine, yes, I’ve already ruined our friendship by assaulting you, fuck it I’ll completely annihilate it! I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about you, I haven’t even considered going on a date since I met you, you have probably ruined other males for me, and I am hopelessly and desperately in love with you!”

You practically shout the last part at the stupid smirk that won’t leave his face.

“I’ve ruined other males for you?”

You roll your eyes, “yes I expect them all to be as loathsome and annoying as you are.”

His smirk is somehow still growing as he eyes you up like a predator stalking his prey, “oh none of them are as loathsome and annoying as I am, and none of them are as hopelessly and desperately in love with you as I am.”

His smirk is replaced by a beaming smile as you process his words. He releases your hands from his grasp, cupping your face with them instead.

“You’ve ruined every female out there for me. I’ve been on one date since I met you, stupid busybody Rhysand set it up, I think in hopes to get me to confront how I feel about you.”

You’re about to ask about it, but he cuts you off, “it lasted 20 minutes. She was one of the teachers at Nyx’s school, nice, but she wasn’t you.”

He laughs, the memory lingering in his eyes, “Rhys was right, unfortunately. We went out and all I could talk about was you. I told her about you, how afraid I was to say anything.”

You move forward, deciding to straddle his lap for this conversation. His hands still on your face, he continues.

“She told me if you were as nice as I said you are, you’d never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. And that if you’re as beautiful and funny and intelligent as I told her you were, someone might beat me to it. And that would hurt worse than the rejection.”

Your hands reach up to cup his face, his beautiful, beautiful face. “And how long ago was this date?”

“It was right before your mission. When I got back I was ready to declare it all to you, but Nesta told me you guys were gone. And then when you came back drugged, I figured I would take care of you and when the drug wore off I’d tell you as soon as you came to.

“But then you ambushed me in a bath tub.”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts from your lips. “Now that I know you wanted it, you really can’t blame me. You looked really hot in the bath.”

Your hips start grinding against his involuntarily, the memory of rubbing against him still so fresh. You’re only in a nightgown and some panties, and you can’t help that he picked gray sweatpants to sleep in.

He grabs your hips, holding you in place, “you couldn’t help yourself? I just looked so hot? You were naked and practically begging me to touch you. It’s a miracle I restrained myself as much as I did.”

You laugh, you really were laying it on thick for him. He releases his hold on you for a second, and your hips immediately start grinding again.

“Oh no, we can’t have that,” he says, and before you can question it a shadow grabs each of your hands, pulling your head back down on the pillows, holding you in place. You start to squirm, about to move your legs, when more shadows appear, holding them down.

You gasp, as Azriel leans in to your ear, whispering, “last night you got to use me for your pleasure, holding me down, now it’s my turn.”

He shifts himself, his upper body between your legs, his face very close to your wet heat. He turns back to face you, and you can feel his breath on you, causing you to moan in need.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so needy.” His fingers begin tracing the inside of your leg, starting at your ankle, moving up to your knee, he slows down while he moves up your thigh, and your breathing practically stops as he approaches your panties.

Your nightgown had shifted up, giving him the perfect view of your lacy, midnight blue panties.

“Do you always wear slutty panties, or only when you know you’ll see me?” He asks, playing with the edges of them, slipping his fingers under the edge to caress your hips.

You flush, embarrassed he figured you out. “I uh wear them on days I know I’ll see you, just in case.”

He chuckles darkly, slithering back up your body, pressing his hard cock against you as he tells you, “If I had known how much effort you put in I would have taken you ages ago.” His hips begin thrusting against you, and you try to hold back moaning but he continues. “Or just how pretty you look squirming underneath me, needing more of my cock. Or how pretty you look in that shade of blue, like you’re already marked as mine.”

He pulls back for a moment, pulling off his sweatpants, but leaving on his boxer-briefs.

“I said I’d return the favor,” he says, sliding back in between your legs, “and if I recall you spent a good amount of time telling me some of the dirty thoughts you’ve had about me.”

His hips continue, still just grinding against your heat, not even inside of you. Gods, you thought, he’ll be the death of me.

“So it’s only fair I tell you all about how I fist my cock wishing I was fisting your hair, keeping your mouth on my cock instead.”

His speed picks up, his hands resting on your throat, your moans drowned out by his mouth colliding with yours.

You open your mouth to let in some air and he takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue in, asserting dominance against your own. Just as fast as he entered your mouth, he left, pulling his mouth from yours. He chuckles at the groan you make at the loss of contact.

“All of Starfall I had to keep leaving because I couldn’t stop thinking about undoing the ribbons holding your dress up. I had to relieve myself at least three separate times.”

You remember the night well enough - you had worn a rather risqué dress by your standards, one where the bodice was made entirely of one strand of ribbon. It was incredibly tedious to get on, but you looked incredible in it, and you were selfishly hoping he would notice you in it.

“Would it mean anything if I told you I picked out that dress, hoping you’d cut the ribbon?” Your words coming out choppy between pants.

Your words clearly meant something to him, because he picked up his pace, grinding against you harder. Some of his curls have fallen into his face, and you move to brush them away, only to remember being bound.

You can feel yourself getting so so close, when he speaks again.

“I’ve spent a lot more time than I’d like to admit imagining what your arousal would smell like,” he begins undoing his leathers, “and now that I know it I can’t help but want to be coated in it.”

At his words, he slips your panties aside and slips inside of you. You moan his name, because at this point he is all you know. His body, his touch, his voice. He is all consuming.

He gently thrusts a few times, stretching you out, before he gains speed, filling you with him.

“Dreamed of how you’d feel around me. I gotta say, the reality is much better than my imagination.”

You’re both on the brink, Azriel thrusting harder, deeper, faster, both of your moans filling his room. You feel him spill into you and that causes you to come completely undone.

Azriel drops onto you, both of your chests heaving against each other. Your breathy pants die down, air coming back to the two of you. Azriel’s head cradled in your neck, his shadows releasing your hands and legs.

“I hate to say it but I am thankful for the bastard who drugged you.”

You laugh as he gets up, gathering his pants to put on.

“Rhys wants an update on you,” he says, smirking, “shall I tell him you’re in perfectly capable hands?”

You laugh, “no tell him I’m in the hands of a deplorable male taking advantage of a sweet, innocent girl.”

He roars with laughter, “sweet and innocent my ass. Tell that to the bathroom floor.” You laugh in response, snuggling back down into his sheets.

You look over, watching Azriel put on the two siphons you had stolen the night before, where they previously were sitting next to Cassian’s stolen siphon. You laugh, trying to figure out how long it’ll be until Cassian comes barreling through the door for it back.

“I imagine,” Azriel begins, following your gaze to the red gem, “he has been standing outside the room all night like some pervert, waiting for the door to open so he can slip in and take it back.”

He leans over the bed, capturing your mouth in a kiss, threading his fingers through your hair. You sit up on your knees, pressing into him as you kiss him back, putting everything into the kiss.

“I shouldn’t be too long, I’ll tell him you’re still under the influence and maybe I can get us a few more days of uninterrupted bliss.”

#acotar fanfiction #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel fluff #azriel smut #smut #acotar smut #batboy smut

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lavendertom · 6 months

Text

The Neighbor Across the Street pt. 1

Mike Schmidt x Babysitter!f!Reader

part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

wc: 1.9k

warnings: none! maybe small age gap (reader is 20, mike is like 23/24 ?) lmk if there’s something i missed by chance

summary: the neighbor across the street needs a babysitter, so you take the job, not knowing what’s in store for you as you grow closer to the siblings. pt. 1 of a multi part series!

could be seen as a prequel to my first work My Favorite Prize, but wasn’t written with the intention :) hopefully this doesn’t feel too long, i promise it gets better in pt 2! mostly exposition here 😌

——————————————————————————

College was not the experience you’d expected at all. You lived at home deciding to attend community college, and you didn’t have many friends or the ‘college experience’ everyone else was having. You were lonely, but at least you went to bed in your own room every night rather than sharing a tiny dorm with an annoying roommate and zero privacy.

“I think I found a job for you, y/n.” you heard your mom say as you walked in the door, barely crossing the threshold.

She had been begging you to find a job for months now. You had an agreement with your parents that freshman year you would focus on your studies, but sophomore year you had to step up and start helping balance the burden of college tuition. It was now spring semester of sophomore year and you still had no job.

“Don’t hand me another McDonalds application, please.” you said with a sigh as you placed your keys and bag on the dining room table.

“You know the neighbor across the street, Mike?” you felt your heart drop with the mention of his name. How could you not know the neighbor across the street.

He immediately caught your attention the day he moved in with his sister. You knew he was a few years older than you, he wasn’t in school and he was constantly working. He was nice. Although, you’d never truly spoken to him besides introducing yourself back when he initially moved in and you were just a junior in high school. Your parents often helped him keep up with yard work when things got especially hard. Everyone knew they were struggling, it wasn’t that hard to tell.

“Yeah, I remember him.” Of course I remember Mike. He’s the neighbor that I’ve found a little too attractive since he moved in.

“I saw him this morning before work, he was telling me they’ve been in a really bad place lately. Abby’s babysitter quit, so I might’ve offered for you to stop by and help a few times a week.” your mother said, saying it as fast as possible so you couldn’t object.

“Really, mom?” you said sounding annoyed. “You couldn’t have talked to me about this before throwing me into it?”

“Listen, it won’t be that bad. I told him you’d stop by after dinner to just try it out, no commitment. He’ll be there while you just hang out with Abby for a few hours, you know how she is.” Abby was a sweet kid, just a little quieter than other kids her age.

“Okay fine, I’ll go. No promises this will work out.” You replied as you walked to your room, mentally preparing yourself for the evening ahead of you.

An hour later you found yourself at the doorstep of the Schmidt’s. You hesitantly raised your hand to knock on the door. You waited a moment until the door swung open.

You saw Mike standing in front of you and he honestly looked like a mess. His dark hair was all over the place and his eyes looked tired as can be. He was wearing a black hoodie, the front pocket was falling apart, and jeans that had dirt stains all over the front.

“Hey, y/n, right?” he said.

“Yeah, my mom told me you needed someone to help look after Abby.” you said, getting a good look at his eyes. This was the first time you’d ever seen them in detail. They were brown with a few specks of green and hazel in them. They were actually pretty nice to look at.

“Yeah,” he said with a chuckle, “I didn’t intend on accidentally hiring you for this. Sorry about that.”

“No, it’s totally fine.” you said chuckling yourself, looking down at your hands. “I’ve been needing a job, so it’s kind of a blessing in disguise.”

“You’re in college right? You’re studying… what was it again?” your mom must’ve really given him the rundown.

”Cybersecurity, second year.” you said with a small smile, blush creeping up on your face. You never got used to people complimenting your accomplishments even though you had been an honors student since 3rd grade.

“Right, that’s impressive.”

“Thanks.” you said, smiling sheepishly.

“Anyways, feel free to come in, Abby should be somewhere around here.” he said as he moved out of the doorway, welcoming you into the home.

The house looked cleaner than you’d expected, given the state of the outside of it. It was pretty ordinary and plain. He walked towards the living room, where you could see Abby laying on the ground. There was a TV in front of her playing some kind of old cartoon. An assortment of crayons, markers, and other art supplies were sprawled all across the ground.

“Hey Abs, I want you to meet someone.” Mike said to the young girl. You walked over to stand beside him. “This is y/n, she’s going to hang out with you for a bit today, okay?”

“Hi Abby, it’s nice to meet you!” you said with a smile.

Abby looked at Mike as he spoke, then looked at you, back at Mike again, before finally going back to whatever she was drawing earlier.

“She’s gonna be a little shy at first.” he whispered to you. “Once you start talking to her she should hopefully open up a bit. I’m gonna catch up on some stuff around the house if you need anything.” he gave you a reassuring smile before walking away.

“What kind of drawing is that?” you said in an attempt to start conversation with the girl. She looked at you for a moment before looking back down. This is going to be a long night.

You decided that your initial approach wasn’t going to work. So, you got down to her level. You sat down next to her on the ground, grabbing a piece of paper and marker.

“I like drawing too, you know. Give me the name of any cartoon character and I can draw it for you.” you said softly.

She gave you a side eye, before turning her head towards your face. “Any character?”

“Yup, any character.” you said with a smile.

“Felix the Cat.” she said just before turning her attention back to the paper in front of her. This girl knows her stuff.

After a few minutes of sketching the character, you set the paper down in front of her. She paused her own work, taking the paper into her hands. She looked at you again.

“Can you draw Yogi Bear?” She commented while still looking at the sketch in her hands, sitting up just a bit straighter.

“Sure.” you said before grabbing more paper and markers.

Before you knew it, there was a large stack of drawings from the two of you featuring all sorts of characters ranging from Mickey Mouse to the Powerpuff Girls. The two of you had been doodling for almost 3 hours now, pausing every so often to talk about why they chose the characters they chose. The two of you were now discussing your favorite drawings of the night.

“I think my favorite is…” Abby began before thinking for a moment, “Courage the Cowardly Dog.”

“That’s a good one. Look at how good your drawing is!” you said to the young girl as you both laid on the ground flipping through the pages of art.

“Not as good as yours y/n!” Abby said to you, holding a stack of her favorites in her hands.

The two of you continued your conversation as Mike returned back to check in on you guys. He was genuinely surprised at how quickly Abby opened up to your company. He stood out of the girls sights for just a moment longer, taking in the sounds of laughter coming from both his sister and you.

“Hey Abs, it’s getting late, you wanna get ready for bed?” he said as he walked into the room.

“Mikeee!” Abby whined. “I’m having so much fun with y/n. Please can I stay up a little longer?”

“It’s okay Abby, I’ll be back again soon and we can do it all over again.” you reassured the girl with a smile.

“Do you promise?” she asked you.

“I promise.”

“Pinky promise?”

“Of course!” you said with a laugh, pinky promising that you’d be back. Mike watched the interaction unfold with a smile.

“Alright, go get ready for bed, I’ll come tuck you in soon.” Mike told his sister.

“Bye y/n!” Abby shouted as she made her way to her room.

“So, how was she?” Mike asked you as you stood up from the floor, attempting to tidy up some of the mess you both made.

“Great, actually. I thought she adjusted fairly quickly. You’ve got quite the picasso on your hands.” you said as you quickly gestured to the now extremely messy floor.

“It’s one of the only things that keeps her entertained.” he said with a small chuckle. “But in all seriousness, I can tell she really trusts you. She hasn’t had a babysitter who actually cared for her like this in a while.”

“It was fun, I’m glad it seemed like she had a good time.” you said with a smile. “So when do you think you’ll need me here again?”

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“No that’s perfect. Already looking forward to it.”

“You know you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, y/n.”

“Seriously, I’m happy to help. I really did have a great time with Abby.”

“Tomorrow it is then.” he said before shuffling through his pockets for a few dollars, attempting to hand you them. “Here, take this for coming on such short notice.”

“Mike, it’s fine. I really don’t mind. You need it more than I do.” you said with a small smile.

“You sure?” he said, almost as if he had to convince himself it was okay.

“I’m sure.” you said as you headed towards the front door. “I think I’m gonna head out now.”

“Thanks again, y/n.” he said through the door as you walked out, the cool night air hitting your face.

“Of course, anytime. See you tomorrow.” you said with a small wave. You walked home with a different feeling inside. You knew taking this little job to help out the neighbor you never attempted to truly get to know was gonna be fun.

Mike shut the door after making sure you crossed the street safely, making his way to Abby’s room.

“Y/n is really fun, Mike.” she said as she pulled the covers over her body.

“That’s good, Abs.” he said as he grabbed one of her favorite teddy bears, handing it to her.

“I think we’re going to be best friends.” she said smiling at the new assortment of drawings she already managed to tape to her walls.

“You be nice to her, okay Abby?” he said to her. “I know how you can get, don’t screw this one up.”

“Okay Mike.” she said groaning, rolling her eyes slightly.

He shut off the lamp next to her bed, giving his sister a small kiss on the forehead. “Goodnight, Abby.”

He shut the door to Abby’s room, making his way back to the living room floor to clean up the mess that was still there. He grabbed one of the left over papers, admiring the assortment of characters on the paper. Right in the middle of it all were two stick figures which could only be assumed to be you and Abby.

He smiled at it, recognizing he had a good feeling about this babysitter. Not only because of how it could help Abby, but because he finally got the neighbor girl to break out of her own shell. Maybe it could even help him too.

#fnaf #fnaf fic #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #abby schmidt #five nights at freddy's #five nights at freddy’s movie #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you

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patrophthia · 11 months

Note

so, like theo is deaf and he has to wear a pin. and the reader knows sign language as well (they both do). theo was quite irritated by the reader because she was not looking at him for like 2 days smthg. (yes, yes, ik). idk, sad Theo takes off the pin and isn't talking too much and idk they talk in sign language

wait this is a fun idea! thank u for sending it in!

you’re nice | theodore nott

this is part of my 600 followers celebrations! you can join it sending an ask!

→ pairing: deaf!theodore nott x reader

i personally don’t know sign language, nor do i know anyone who does so please take this very lightly! either way i hope you like this!

It wasn’t your intention to ignore Theodore, it’s just been a hectic week and you had to prioritise your time in a way where you wouldn’t be able to look Theo every passing second of the day.

But once you’ve realised, it was already too late. Theodore had already took of his pin, and began ignoring you in return. You could only wish he’d give you a chance to explain yourself but it seems as though any attempts you made to do so was failing.

You didn’t really have much of plan. You just know sad Theodore could be a little sulky and hell bent on not communicating with anyone whatsoever; not even his closest friends. “What did you do, princess?”

“I didn’t do anything,” you frown at Blaise, not caring about nickname seeing as he’s assigned you it the second you and Theodore began dating. “I got a little busy on school work and kind of forgot about him and now—”

“—you forgot about your boyfriend?” Blaise cuts you off.

You frown deepens, groaning slightly as you bent your head backwards. “It’s not like that,” you explain, straightening yourself to look back at him. “You know how hectic it is during this time of the year and I just wasn’t able to look at him and I guess —therefore, talk to him.”

“And now he’s decided to ignore everyone just because you ignored him,” Blaise blew out a whistle. “On purpose.”

“You don’t need to remind me,” you scowl. “What do I do?”

“Talk to him,” Blaise says off-handedly. And when you fix him an annoyed look he adds on. “You know he hates it when you are upset, so maybe try using that?”

“You want me to act upset in front of an upset Theodore?” You concluded his words. “Are you stupid? Do you hear yourself?”

“How about you not doubt my intelligence and try it?” Blaise says with a roll of his eyes.

“What would I get in return?” It’s more like banter between the two of you, now having grown comfortable with one another.

Blaise snickers. “A boyfriend who wears his pin like he’s supposed to and isn’t sulking every time we see him.”

That’s a fair enough point, you guessed. Now on a mission to find Theodore. It didn’t take long, knowing that Theo was a creature of habits who liked to attend his classes a few minutes earlier than it starts.

The DADA classroom was empty, save for Theodore, when you arrived. Standing right in front of him as you said something Blaise had suggested before you made your way over. “You know what I heard?”

It was second nature for you to speak while you sign by now, your hands moving on their own accords. “Apparently, you’re only dating me because you think I’m pretty.”

Theodore only frowns, shaking his head. He’s not signing back yet and you take it as a sign for you take push his buttons a slight bit more.

“If not that then why?” You sign, with a small pout. “Tell me.”

“I’m dating you because you’re nice.” And there you have it, Theodore’s signing back. “To everyone.” Then after a beat, he adds. “Even me.”

You’ve been frowning a lot today. And his ‘even me’ makes your frown deepen. “What do you mean by that?”

“I know I can be a lot,” he signs, “but you’re always nice to me and that’s why I like you.” He finishes. “You being pretty is just a reason for me to like you even more.”

He grabs at your hand, pressing a gentle kiss at the back of your palm before letting go. Not a second goes by and you’re already missing his touch. “If you like me so much,” you began, “then wear this pin like you’re supposed to, to prove it.”

It’s silly. He knows it. You know it. Because, you know he loves you whether he wears the pin or not but it did nothing to stop your heart from fluttering when he places his pin in its rightful spot only to smile at you afterwards.

He loves you and even though he might not say it, he hopes you know it.

— from bee: it wouldn’t be a theo fic written by me if there was no blaise meddling in relationships!

#— requests #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott imagines #theo nott x y/n #theo nott fanfiction #theo nott x reader #theo nott fanfic #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing #🍰: 600 with patro!

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sturniozo · 5 months

Text

Savage Love

Matt Sturniolo x reader Mafia AU

Summary: After a night out with her friends, Y/n wakes up in a hotel bed with a handsome stranger with no memory of the night before. Pieceing together what she can, she finds the man she woke up with wasn’t just some stranger, but the most powerful man in New York.

A/N: I’m basing all of my mafia knowledge on watching the god father when I was six and that one episode of community with the chicken fingers. Other than that I have no clue how mafia works so this might not be as good as you hope but hey I tried. Tell me if you want me to continue this though! I had fun writing it!

Masterlist

I never go out with my friends and I felt bad about it for a long time. But today, Emma convinced me to go dancing with her at a club in New York. I’ve been in the city many times, as I live just outside of it, in a small apartment above a bookshop. But the city of New York still terrifies me, especially at night. There’s a rumor of a secret organization that controls just about everything in the city, and if you cross the man at the top then you’re done for.

Of course, these are just rumors and haven’t actually been proven. I have nothing to fear, right?

Now I’m sitting in front of Emma’s vanity mirror getting ready as she does my hair.

“Oh you should totally wear it down! Curl it a bit, let it hang over your shoulders. You might hook up tonight, you never know.” Emma teases as she messes with my hair. I finish curling my lashes and then turn to her.

“I don’t think I’ll hook up at all. I’m just not the type.” I shrug and stand up, switching places with Emma as she sits in front of her vanity mirror to do her own makeup.

“Well, I am the type.” She says as she starts with contour. I walk into the bathroom and plug in the curling iron to heat it up.

“You can hook up with any guy you want.” I say to Emma. “Just make sure he wraps it. I don’t want to be an aunt so soon.” I laugh.

Emma and I have been best friends since fourth grade. She’s my polar opposite, although we have the same dreams. We’re both journalists writing for a small newspaper outlet right outside of New York.

Emma’s the type to do things we’re doing now almost every day. She always tells me about all the big parties and exclusive events and venues she’s attended. She’s talk to, and slept with, many of the biggest people in multiple industries to get information for her articles.

I take a different approach. My stories come from the smaller people. The homeless and the struggling. I try to bring attention to the lower class of America.

I bet you can guess whose stories get published. Hence why I live in a small apartment above a bookshop, and Emma has a penthouse.

“God, I know. I can’t handle having a baby now. I’m only 20 for Pete’s sake!” Emma laughs and sets down her makeup brush. She turns to me and says “But I need to sleep with someone big and important tonight. I’m dying here, I haven had a story published in almost two weeks!”

I sigh. Two weeks is nothing. Try five months. I’m basically just a consultant at this point.

Emma turns back to the mirror to finish her makeup. I check the curling iron and it’s nice and hot, so I begin to curl the ends of my hair. Just a little curly at the edge.

Emma gets up from the mirror and starts shutting off lights and electronics around her penthouse. I unplug the curling iron and walk into the front room to put on my shoes and grab my purse. Emma shut off the last light and we walk out of the penthouse. She locks the door and we get into the elevator, going down to the front desk.

Emma has an Uber waiting for us. The great thing about Emma is, no matter how much more she has than me, she always gives and never asks for any in return. It’s always been this way. She’s the sweetest friend I’ve ever had. She’s also the most ruthless journalist I’ve ever met.

We get into the Uber and the driver starts for the city. It’s a long drive, one that me and Emma use to our advantage and try to find out who’s the most important person attending the party.

“Oh my god!” Emma says after a long silence of us just looking at our phones.

“What is it, who will be there?” I ask frantically.

“Matt Sturniolo!”

I look at her, confused. “Who’s that?”

“Who’s that? WHO’S THAT? Matt Sturniolo is only the most powerful guy in New York!”

“That can’t be true, how come I’ve never heard of him?”

“Because you focus on who can help the lower class. He can’t help them, it’s not in his power.”

“Then he doesn’t have much power.”

“Oh, he has power. He has all the power. It’s his rumor that he’s the one who controls all the important somebody’s in New York. I gotta make it my mission to sleep with him. God, I bet he’s good in bed.” She says to herself.

I let out a laugh. “What story do you plan together by sleeping with him?”

“I want to know if the rumor is true, duh!” She laughs and lightly hits my shoulder.

We arrive at the venue. It’s large and the music is blaring. We step out of the car and I lean to Emma and say loudly so she can hear me over the music “The most powerful man in New York is gonna be here?” I laugh. “This doesn’t look like a scene you’d catch someone so important in.”

“Trust me, he’ll be here. Steph said so, and she’s always right!” Emma says back. She takes my hand and drags me through the line, showing the bouncer a VIP pass for both her and I. They let us in and Emma immediately drags me to the bar.

“Two vodka martinis!” She says to the bartender. The bartender nods and begins our drinks. I turn around to look at all the people dancing. Men in half dressed suits grinding on women in the shortest dresses. This is what Emma does every day? I understand the appeal, but the loud music and the flashing lights just aren’t for me.

We get our drinks and Emma takes me to a table to sit down at. “So what do we do now?” I ask.

“We mingle!” She shouts and raises her hands in the air.

The rest of the night that I can still remember was filled with drinking and Emma talking to numerous people, always asking about the guy who’s name I can no longer remember due to my copious consumption of alcohol. The last thing I remember was talking to a tall, handsome, dark haired man with beautiful light blue eyes.

I awake with a pounding headache. I raise my head from my pillow and slowly open my eyes, groaning from the pain. I look around and realize, this is not my bedroom. This is not Emma’s bedroom. I have no clue where I am. I scan the room and my eyes fall on a strange man sitting on the couch. I gasp and he looks up at me.

“Good, you’re awake. I was wondering if I’d have to drop you at the emergency room.” He laughs to himself.

I sit up fully in the bed. “Who are you? Where am I?” I ask frantically.

“My names Matt, and-“ I stop him

“Oh my god.”

“It’s fine just-“

“Oh god what happened?”

“Nothing, I-“

“I was drunk!”

“I know, that’s why I-“

“Tell me I didn’t. We didn’t.”

“Would you let me fucking speak?” He yells. “I didn’t fucking touch you, okay? You were dancing on a table and your friend had gone home with some guy so I got you a hotel room. You could barely stand and you just passed out on the bed.” He finishes with a huff.

I stare up at him in shock. “So we didn’t”

“No. We didn’t.” He pauses. “But we could.” He says with a smirk.

A blush appears on my cheeks and my breath shakes “What?” I ask

“Well you’re an attractive girl, I wouldn’t mind it.” He laughs. “But I have a meeting in an hour, so it’ll have to be another time. Want my number while you think about it?” He asks and before I can answer he hands me a card. “I got an Uber waiting for you whenever you’re ready to go home, it’s already paid for. Just do whatever you need to before you leave.” He says, clearly insisting I shower and eat. “And tell the driver where you need to go. Don’t forget to call, doll face.” He says before leaving and closing the door behind him.

I look down at the card he had handed me.

‘Matt Sturniolo.’ With an address and phone number.

Tags: @stargirlsturniololover (the one who came up with the idea for Mafia!Matt) @sturniolobessed

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thatdeadaquarius · 10 months

Note

That language SAGAU but the Reader can only communicate writing on paper.

Either the Reader is mute and they (characters) don't know/understand sign language or they somehow lost their voices on their transmigration to Teyvat and can only write now. But the characters are left trying to decipher what the Reader wrote.

Examples:

Kaeya: "I may say, that was very unexpected your grace. One such as yourself should be more aware of who you are."

Reader: "wat, y u sayin dat?"

Gorou: "Oh, your grace! Careful now. I am most certain that you stepped on something unsightly right now. Let me clean your feet, your grace."

Reader: "r u srs rn? Fml"

Ooooo, this is nice, this is niiccceeee /ref

this would be the energy⬇️

Man I love this show, I gotta finish it (it’s Komi Can’t Communicate for those who want to see it) where she basically is too shy/introverted to speak (non-verbal neurospicy it seems like to me actually lol) and really wants to make friends and do normal things despite not speaking, her main way of communicating is writing (and her first guy friend who can just read her facial/body language really well lmao)!!

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Headcanons-ish?

Stars: dashes/mention of most characters

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Reader/”you” are mute/lost their voice, & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

This kinda falls into that post I made abt texting lingo, abt us being nigh incomprehensible when using texting lang. (its basically a code lol)

but i think it’s always neat to see nonverbal rep so here we are (also i think imma go ahead and say it is both selectively mute but also enforced by video game laws!)

u know a good explanation would be for this is actually abt how we technically are only allowed to freely communicate when we’re in chats,

so I could see that still being the only way we can commnicate in Teyvat (look am i little excited abt taking “video game world” a little too literally in every genshin AU ever- maybe.)

tbh i could see so many allogenes having to either learn to make room for you in convos and u also having to get wayyy more expressive in body language/facial expressions

tbh i think itd be pretty easy to get ur meaning, like in a battle or smth fast-paced where u couldnt write, like how Tinker Bell can?

if u dont know what i mean just search “tinkerbell scenes peter pan” on youtube and u can see ppl just having a full conversation with no words with her, which i think would deffo happen with ppl like Kaeya, Lisa, Lumine, Venti, Heizou, Ayato, Yae Miko, Thoma, Beidou and Itto surprisingly i could see it (ppl in the distance just think theyre all talking to themselves sometimes when ur not as visible hehe)

OMG they get u nice gifts for writing all the time, like the newest compact pens from Fontaine, the finest small, medium, and large notebooks from Inazuma,

like a little compact pocketbook so u can easily fit it in pockets!

u know Im absolutely sure you could literally start the texting appreviation trend in Tevyat like this-

like just so it’s easier to communicate with you, a lot of people are willing to adapt/take on abbreviations like “ttyl, gtg, wth, lol, lmao” even stuff like “etc”

lol u start a whole trend in the writing letters business, hehe silly medieval Teyvat is silly and medieval

yknow I think the quieter vision users would definitely find you to be peaceful to be around and easy to understand just with writing (also deffo most likely to adore the soft moments together of just ur pen scribbling and the sounds of nature or a cafe or something around them),

tbh i also think these ppl would be motivated to talk to you alone, or get you away to just talk the two of you for all the reasons above, like Xiao, Aether, Kazuha, Ayaka, Chongyun, Zhongli, Diluc, Sayu, Ei, Sucrose, Eula, Ganyu, Ningguang, Tighnari, Alhaitham omg he might literally be able to take his headphones off around u bc youd be in such quiet spaces all the time, and bc u dont talk he doesn’t have to worry abt u getting loud either lmao

…and then ofc, there’s the bitches that try and guess what ur writing ahead of timeeee 😭

bein all like, “Uh… you.. would like.. to go to… a restaurant… to get some- OH OH I got this one this time! Some pita pockets! …Oh. A drink. Right. Sorry, again.”

definitely Itto, Cyno, Heizou, Xingqiu, Fischl, Amber, Collei, Dehya, Wanderer, Childe, Venti, Keqing (she just used to being fast ok), Kaveh lmao

☆

I hope my reply was a little fun!! THANK U FOR SENDING THIS I LOVE THIS SM!! Man it’s so hard to make you feel my appreciation for this idea thru the damn screen

like how do i send a virtual hug

ANYWAY, if you or anybody else had an idea for celebrating 1000 followers lmk bc i am STRUGGLING with this same issue for that,

like how to make u guys feel my love 😩 ❤️‍🔥

☆

Safe travels ignihideous,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonderss / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #genshin isekai #my asks #genshin impact sagau #gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin x reader #sagau x reader #idk my tags help #also pls if u got follower celebrate things for me to do lmk #genshin imagines

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oneshotnewbie · 1 month

Note

You're polish???? Omfg me too! Can I request a oneshot, where Reader has the talent to be linguistically gifted. She knows over 10 different languages, one of them polish. But the entire BAU doesn't know about this (slightly based on the episode where Emily translates the letter). Someone comes to the BAU to report a murder they've seen, but they only know broken English. He always just says "my English not good. Polish? Polish?" And then reader comes around the corner and talks to them. Everyone is amazed because they didn't know anything about it. Emily finds it very attractive.

Authors note: I wish you all an early but still nice and wonderful Easter. I hope the Easter Bunny has something nice in store for you this year 💕😘

ᕚ---ᕘ

The scene at the FBI station was hectic as always. Phones ring, computer screens flicker, and agents scurry frantically through the hallways as each member of the BAU attends to their respective tasks. It was a typical day for the team, grappling with the darkest depths of human nature.

In the midst of this commotion, a man walked into the BAU, his face marked by fear and uncertainty. His gaze searched around until he finally approached Morgan nervously, who was sitting at his desk. The man began to speak in broken English, his words difficult to understand and marked by a strong accent.

"Please.. murder.. seen.. help," he stammered desperately and the agent furrowed his brow, obviously trying to disentangle the man's words. But the language barrier seemed insurmountable and communication threatened to stall. „my english is not good. Polish, Polish?“

And while Derek turned to Emily and Reid for help, and they shook their heads, unable to help him, your slim figure appeared around the corner, your steps light and sure, as if you had found an invisible path through the chaos of the precinct. With your remarkable and calm demeanor, you quickly got an overview of the situation.

You walked up to the man, shook his hand and walked him to your desk before you started talking to him. Your words flowed out of your mouth effortlessly and smoothly. Your voice was soft and soothing, and with every word the man seemed to relax a little more. „Proszę zając miejsce. Co się stało?” (Please sit down. What happened?) you asked him, and the man replied in his native language with relief. It was as if an invisible barrier was broken and suddenly the communication was clear and understandable.

The other agents in the room stared at you in surprise, no one had any idea that you knew Polish. In fact, it was just one of many languages you were fluent in - a fact your team didn't know about.

You turned back to the man after finding something to write, your voice warm and compassionate as you assured him that you would help him. You then turned to the other agents in the room and began giving instructions as you analyzed the situation and developed a plan to deprive the witnesses of all the facts possible.

For a moment there was silence in the room, broken only by your gentle words. The other members of the team stared at you in fascination, their faces showing amazement and curiosity bubbling beneath the surface.

It was a secret hidden deep within you, a talent that cleverly kept you hidden from the world. But in that moment, as you turned to the man and helped him ease his suffering, it became clear that your abilities were far beyond what your colleagues had ever imagined.

Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Reid whispered quietly and discreetly in their places, trying to catch the conversation between you and the man. Their eyes were still on you, moving with an ease and confidence they had never seen from you before. "Did you know she speaks Polish?" Emily whispered to the others in disbelief, hoping for an answer.

"Never. I didn't even know she spoke anything other than English," Morgan replied, his eyes lingering on you, who was now giving clear instructions to the man and writing things down for him. Reid, who was sitting right next to them, couldn't help but join in the discussion. "Maybe she picked it up somewhere, but it's really amazing how fluid she is."

Meanwhile, you continued the conversation, your words seeming to have a calming effect on the man, who leaned back and let out a deep breath. You took time to listen to him, your empathy clearly evident as you tried to gain his trust and help him.

Emily watched you carefully and couldn't help but wonder what other talents lay hidden within you. Your ability to move so effortlessly in a foreign language was impressive, and she couldn't help but wonder what else was hidden behind your calm facade.

As you continued to talk to the man, your team slowly began to realize that they still had a lot to learn about you. Their excitement grew with every passing minute and they couldn't wait to learn more about your mysterious talents.

When the conversation finally ended and the man left the BAU grateful and relieved, there was an excited atmosphere in the room. Your team turned to you at the same time, full of questions and admiration. “Y/n, how many languages do you actually speak?” Reid asked, unable to hide his surprise despite his poker face.

You smiled modestly when you saw the surprised looks. It was rare that you gave a glimpse of your true potential, but in that moment you felt comfortable revealing a small part of your secret. "A few. More than ten, definitely. Polish is my native language."

"That's incredible!" JJ exclaimed, realization catching up with her as she thought about what deep and great contribution you could still make if you helped her coordinate communications. "How did you learn that many languages?"

"It was a mix of interest and necessity," you explained, getting up from your seat to continue your work. "There are many situations in which it is useful to speak multiple languages, especially in our job."

Your team was impressed by your humility and for a moment they even forgot about the hustle and bustle of your job as they got lost in your talent. You disappeared from their field of vision to get a coffee while some of them immersed themselves in their work. Others, however, tried to sort out their thoughts.

Emily couldn't stop thinking about your language skills. The way you effortlessly switched between languages and your calm, confident charisma had deeply impressed her and sparked something in her that she hadn't yet known herself.

Determined to climb over the walls and explore your talents, your skills and yourself more closely, she followed you, the hustle and bustle of the precinct behind her slowly fading away. "Y/n, I'm really impressed with the way you spoke to the man. I never thought you knew so many languages," she began curiously as she moved to stand next to you at the coffee machine. "Could you maybe show me a little bit more of it? I'd love to hear how you speak in another language."

You hesitated for a moment, then smiled softly and nodded in agreement. "Of course, with pleasure. Which language are you interested in?"

"Your native language, please," Emily replied, staring at you in fascination and waiting impatiently. You began to speak and Emily listened intently. Your voice was soft and melodic, and every word sounded clear and precise. Emily was struck by the elegance and beauty of the language and how effortlessly you spoke it, even if she didn't know that you were just paying her the nicest compliments she had ever heard from anyone.

“This is incredible,” Emily whispered when you finished. "You're really talented."

You smiled modestly and sat down at the table to give yourself a short break. "Thank you, Emily. It's nice that you see it that way."

As she continued to join you and talk to you, Emily felt an even deeper connection with you than she had before. She not only admired your talents, but also your kindness and humility from the day she was allowed to work with you. And in that moment she knew that she had much more to discover about you and your fascinating world.

It was an unexpected moment of revelation and rapprochement that made Emily realize that she was attracted to your personality and the attraction you radiated to her. And as you sat together, lost in short, animated conversations, Emily knew that meeting you a few months ago as her new partner was the start of something bigger.

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nrdmssgs · 11 months

Text

Little things, they do 2 (Price, Ghost, Gaz) (headcannons)

Masterlist

Part 1 (Alex, Soap, König) here

Little things, they do, that get you every time. Silly, warm, heart-melting, wholesome things.

Captain John Price

Knuckle kisses. That's it.

Praises you not only when you succeed, but also when you fail. “I know, you tried so hard, love. This doesn't make you lesser. You don't have to prove anything to me. I'm proud of you. You're enough.”

Compliments you at the most random times. You've just woken up with an absolute mess on your head, or you walk around the house in old faded sweatpants and a dirty T-shirt because the rest of the clothes are being washed? John takes your hand, brings it to his lips and whispers "You are incredibly beautiful." or “How did an old git like me ended up with the most gorgeous, hottest human being out there?”

He has this habit of going behind your back and leaning close to your very ear while telling you something. Maybe he just likes to feel you close and uses it as an excuse, maybe he wants to “envelop” you in a way, hide you from the whole world, sharing his knowledge, feeling, how interested you are in a topic.

One of those people to actually use paper and envelopes, that some hotel still provide their rooms with. You get these long 3-5 page letters from different corners of earth every now and then. They can be absolutely platonic - he can literally describe, what he's seen or overheard on the streets lately or rant about how he wants to hear seabirds voices, but they are interrupted by the unceasing roar of engines and roadworks here… But you see it: every line screams “I love you. I freaking love you so much, it's almost 4 am here, and I'm still wide awake, because I need to write to you, to communicate in any way that will be safe for you.”

Simon Ghost Riley

He is no stranger to triggered stress or panic. So if you have any phobia, and he finds out about it - he starts protecting you from its triggers. Let's say, you're scared of spiders and scorpions. Even a picture of one can absolutely freak you out. Simon goes above and beyond to shield you from any type of appearance of these creatures in your life. In summer, he'll escort and even tiniest spider out of your apartment, before you see it.

He even shares a googledoc with trigger warning time codes for every piece of media, you wanted to see. Even if it's a long series - he just checks every episode of it on a fast rewind and writes you, if it's fully safe to watch or not.

Ghost has a wealth of experience in dealing with insomnia and is willing to help you, if you come across this issue. Just don't hesitate to ask - he is ready to spend all the night helping you out. Will definitely start with pressing your back to his chest and guiding you through a breathing exercise.

If you had a bad day and dropped him a message - he`d surely call you as soon as he can to talk you through everything that happened and soothe you.

“I`m always there for you, you know?” “I know, Simon…” “No, thats not the way, we do that.” “...” “Come on. Say it.” “I remember, ok?” “Say. it. I need you say it out loud.” “You are always there for me, no matter what.” “And?” “... and I can call or text you any time and you'll reach back asap.” “Good job. I'll call you again before you go to sleep.”

Despite his ascetic way of life, he likes nice things and gradually accustoms you to the same preferences.

It all starts with tea. One day, you go grocery shopping together. You walk between the rows of shelves while Simon stays by your cart. Returning to the cart, you find him skeptically examining the box of tea you dropped into the cart earlier. "What is this?" "It's tea, Simon, stop pretending you can't read." Ghosts gaze eloquently demonstrates his attitude towards this product. "It's trash." He pulls out a simple but elegant box from the top shelf. "This is tea." You try to convince him that with the money spent on that "good" box, you could drink tea all year, but he is relentless. Simon ends up buying the tea himself and brewing it at your place. When you first try it and roll your eyes in pleasure - he smiles contentedly. “Told you.”

Kyle Gaz Garrick

“Babe this is delicious, wanna try it?” - say yes and firstly he will kiss you. You absolutely need to try that ice cream, his tongue is just a nice bonus. Ofc shares his food with you afterward.

One of the most supportive human beings out there. Encourages every your hobby, hella proud of you and not shy to demonstrate it. “Have you heard her singing? RNs got a voice of a songbird!” “Kyle, please, I just went to a few vocal lessons and learned like… 2 songs.” “Those are my favorite ones from now on, love.”

If you work from home, he'll walk into your room randomly (but only when he is 100% sure, you're not on the call), sit beside you and just stare silently at you. Ask him, what's up, and he'll give you a quick kiss on the forehead and walk away grinning.

Slow dances with you on streets, when you two pass by street musicians. Doesn't care if everybody looking, even if someone pulls out a phone and starts filming this wholesome scene. It's only you in Kyles hands, that matter right now to him.

If you have a pet - he definitely becomes its new dad. When Kyle is around - your four-legged friend absolutely forgets about your existence, because Gaz is an expert in best scratches!

By the way, your pets birthday is now Kyles official holiday!

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modernimpressionism · 2 months

Text

a higher power compelled me to write this

Swann Arlaud x Reader Fluff

(First meetings, art museums, slight awkwardness)

1285 Words

• ───── ୨୧ ───── •

Like the work of art she was, he first saw her at a museum.

More specifically, at the Musée d'Orsay. Standing in front of Olympia. He had wandered in on a walk home from a meeting with his manager, feeling a little stressed and pretty annoyed. He assumed a walk around an air-conditioned maze would calm his mind a bit, and this one was just the closest when he googled 'museum'. He recalls visiting it as a boy because being a child in Paris meant field trips to insane historical monuments and world-famous museums.

She stared at the painting as if trying to memorize every brush stroke, occasionally adjusting the tote bag on her shoulder or tucking her hair behind her ear, but not moving onto another piece. The relaxed nude figure seemed to entrance her like the woman was communicating something secret and sensual and womanly through 150 years of dried pigment.

This gave him plenty of time to memorize her as well, to notice the hair falling gently on her back. Her fingers, the nails neatly painted but the skin around them picked and chewed to bits. She wore a watch on her left wrist, a real watch that ticked silently with the seconds, he thought higher of her because of this but couldn't place why. Her clothes looked nice, but not excessive. He imagined her being picky with what she wore, and not caring about brands or fashion houses, which felt rare in Paris. The tote bag on her shoulder was obviously full, and he yearned to hold it for her, to take the weight off if only for a moment. She obviously carried it every day and thought little of the weight anymore, but he was willing to take it.

He paused his study for a moment to look around the gallery. He noticed the similarity between all of the paintings, and with how long she was staring at the one, he assumed she must be a fan.

Shit

He leaned over to check the name of the artist on a few of the paintings, Manet, Manet, Manet, ok. He pulls his phone out and quickly searches for him. If he's going to talk to this woman, he should at least pretend to have a reason to.

He was starting to regret not paying attention during those field trips.

He slipped his phone back into his back pocket and ran his fingers through his hair. It seemed like he was eternally trying to fix it, and if there was ever a time for it to behave, it was right now.

He took one confident step before she started moving and he lost all of his nerve. He snapped his head around before finding a random painting to pretend to stare at, hoping she didn't notice his extended and possibly creepy staring. He shoved his hands in his front pockets to try to look calmer than he was.

He heard the slight tap of her shoes against the stone floor but didn't dare to look where she was going. This is disastrous, he thought, deciding to leave as soon as she stopped moving. He was counting down the seconds when he felt a slight shade move on his left side and heard her movements more closely.

She stood right next to them, looking at the same painting.

His plan to abandon ship quickly dissipated, knowing this was the only opportunity he had to talk to her. If he ignored her now and followed her around the museum to talk to her later, he would look mental.

He scanned the painting in a panic, trying to understand 150 years of art history before opening his mouth. To him, it just looked like a couple of people standing on a balcony but he felt like it meant much more to her. He thought that if he waited any more, he would lose his nerve, so he opened his mouth and...

"J'aime le chien"

"Oh, I. I'm sorry but I'm still learning French, I'm not sure-"

"You're American!"

Shit!

In his anxiety-ridden brain, he forgot to shut his mouth and his words bypassed any filter he possessed. It's over, this was a total failure, he thought as he felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

But instead he heard her giggle gently, before responding,

"I am! All of my life actually"

Oh god, and she's funny...

He smiled back at her with his signature goofy lopsided smile, too engrossed by her face, her mouth, her eyes to actually respond to anything.

"I like the dog too", she replies after a few silent seconds.

They both stared at the small animal painted in the bottom left corner, tucked into the petticoat of a figure. His eyes weren't visible beneath his fur, permanently hidden from the world. Looking at the animal and hearing her approval gave him the confidence to keep their conversation going a bit longer.

"So is he your favorite?"

"He's one of my favorites, i just love the choice of subjects, how average they were."

He's entranced by her voice. By the way her lips move to make the words, by the way her eyes light up as she speaks about art. He realizes that he must look silly, staring at her speak with a dumb smile, but he can't bring himself to care.

"Have you ever seen where he painted? In Giverny?"

She tilts her head slightly at that question, slightly confused.

Shit.

"Do you mean Monet? With the lilies? He painted in Giverny. This is Manet."

SHIT!

His mouth opens and closes like a fish, feeling like a deer in headlights, he can't possibly save this now.

So he just starts laughing. A genuine belly laugh, full of joy at his own stupidity. And then she starts laughing just as hard.

"Did you just google him a minute ago?", she asks, in between giggles.

"I did, it must have been uh... vérification orthographique.. spellcheck"

They look at each other earnestly, both admiring the other.

"I'm Y/N", she says, reaching out her hand.

He grabs it and is astounded by how comfortable he feels in hers

"Swann"

*One Year Later*

"Love I told you, I didn't want anything for our anniversary, just to do things together"

"Well this is a together present, sort of, it's for uh.. l'appartement"

He pulls a large, flat, wrapped present from the back of his closet, lifting it and placing it in front of Y/N, who's sat on their bed. He sits down next to her, leaning one hand on the bed behind her, subconsciously wanting to be close to her.

Her hands reach for the paper and start tearing, she makes a mental note of his gift-wrapping skills, assigning him that job in the future. Her were always horribly crumpled, but he was neat and untarnished, and she almost felt bad destroying it.

She quickly uncovered a gold frame with a glass pane, something familiar peeking out from inside.

"It's the Manet painting, The Balcony. A print of it, I mean. I thought it would be nice to hang out here since it's ours." he says, almost shyly... No matter how confident he was, he always felt the risk of gift-giving.

"Swann, I love it, It's perfect"

She places the framed print on the bed behind her, safely, before throwing her arms around his neck and hugging him with as much love as she could muster. It was such a quick transition that he was almost surprised, but he soon caught up and reached his arm around her and grabbed her waist, pulling her tighter. After a while, he placed a hand on her cheek to pull her away and leaned in to kiss her lips gently and with love.

"Joyeux anniversaire chérie, I would get you the real painting if I could.

#swann arlaud #swann arlaud x reader #fluff

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spacexseven · 1 year

Note

foreigner darling crying while desperately typing into their phone because they don’t any japanese or english, etc. 1) their yandere is a bastard and fucking with them, fully knowing they don’t know the language. 2) the yandere is also struggling and they a dictionary that’s highlighted with translations. 3) the yandere didn’t think this one through and is now acting as if they knew about the barrier. - garfield anon (hello!)

(1) jouno thinks it's funny. here you were, clearly confused and trying your best to communicate with him, but apart from sobs and pleadings of 'please let me go', he can hardly make out your other words. it didn't matter, anyway. this was fine too, you just had to calm down before he could set down some ground rules. he also finds it hilarious when he's talking to you in japanese, knowing you don't understand a single thing, threatening to kill you or your loved ones or telling you about how long he's been watching you and you're just staring at him wide-eyed; isn't that expression far too cute for this?

(1) fyodor wishes you didn't cry so much. if he wanted you to cry in the corner, your phone long abandoned after he had only laughed at your pathetic attempts at trying to talk to him, then he could have done a hundred other things apart from bringing you to a nice room and taking care of you. he understands everything you're saying, of course, but still pretends not to, cocking his head to the side when you ask him why he's done this and glaring at you when you ask his name. it was a little amusing to see you second guess your every word and try to recall any words from any language you knew. only after a month of captivity, when you start, on the brink of losing your mind, telling him about your name and likes and dislikes, he smiles at you, and says "i know", clear as day. the shock on your face is his favorite expression yet.

(2) so maybe chuuya overestimated his linguistic abilities. it was fine! he had dictionaries and the internet just for this. he gets by using the resources on hand, and you're surprisingly pretty well receptive to his attempts, and even point out the words you're saying when he doesn't understand you. things were going a lot better than he thought, until one day you ask him if he can please help you escape and that he can come with you so whoever hired him won't hurt him, you promise to help, and he realizes you had no idea just why you were here. he does consider telling you the truth, but it was a lot nicer to have you trust him and stick by him, so ultimately he decides that can wait. for now, he'll go along with your silly idea.

(2) dazai thought he had all the important words covered, but now you're screaming at him so loudly that he can't comprehend a single word coming out of your mouth. he offers you the dictionary and a pencil, clearly telling you to please circle the words you're using but instead, you throw it back at him and scream some more. not knowing what else to do, he starts speaking to you in gibberish. it works, almost, because you go eerily quiet to listen to him before going back to screaming and throwing things at him (because now it sounds like he's mocking you). oh well, time to sign up for those classes!

(3) nikolai didn't think it'd be this hard to get the message across. surely, using his overcoat to transport you here was enough for you to understand that this was a kidnapping? well, he didn't understand what you were saying either, but he was mostly sure that you said the words 'money', 'who' and 'why' at least thrice now. living together when neither of you understood the other couldn't be that bad, right? he uses pictures of an amusement park and a handy app to ask you if you'd like to go out and that he will drag you back screaming if you tried to run, and the horror on your face is all he needs to know you understood him clear as day. see, not that hard!

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drewsbuzzcut · 3 months

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/drewsbuzzcut/740429391926083584/right-where-you-left-me

How do they get back together? Please say it’s the model reader that goes after Mat instead of the other way around.

Lessons Learned

mat barzal x model!fem!reader

a visceral in doses fic

warnings: insecurities, mentions therapy, cursing, minor angst, slight mentions of blood, and I think that’s all

pt 2 of Right Where You Left Me

It’s been a lousy, dragged out month of self pity and anger. You’re upset with the way you handled things with Mat. You were proving your one sided point of you being too young right all because you couldn’t communicate with him. Why, you, thought breaking up with him rather than talking with him was a more beneficial idea? You have no clue. Mat is one of the most understanding people you’ve come to know. But because you’re you, you’ve also stayed clear of anything that has to do with Mat. Not that he was calling or texting you anyways. He is probably so done with you.

The day after everything went down, you realized your mistake but it was too late. Even if it wasn’t too late, you’re too stubborn to do anything about it. You don’t really deserve Mat, but you want him so bad.

During your flight back home from your latest photo shoot, you think over every little thing. You want to talk to Mat, but you can’t stop the thoughts of him not wanting you back, or worse, moving on from flooding your mind. You chew on your bottom lip until you taste blood and your leg hasn’t stopped shaking. Why do you keep doing this to yourself?

Before you can overthink it, you get an uber to Mat’s place and hope that he’s home.

His front door looks daunting, but it also reminds you of all the good times you’ve had in his home. You shake out your nerves and knock on the door. You’re met with silence. A minute passes and you knock again. It’s followed by more silence. You lean your forehead on the cool wood, trying not to let yourself get discouraged.

“Y/n?” You hear his voice behind you.

You quickly look up, snapping your head over your shoulder to face him. His hair is longer than it was a month ago. His eyes are tired and so is his body. His large bags look extra heavy in his hands. All your thoughts disappear when you connect your eyes with his.

“Hi. I didn’t know you weren’t home,” you say.

“We just got back from a roadie,” he answers, a nervous hand going through his hair.

Your fingers fidget with a loose strand of thread from your tank top. You try to form the right words in your head, but you feel intimidated under his gaze.

“Oh. Well I should probably leave and let you get settled in. It was nice seeing you,” you say and move away from his door.

“Y/n, you’re here for a reason. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine!” You blurt out.

You watch him through squinted eyes, because not even you buy your lie. You bite down on your lips and throw your head back with a groan.

“Okay. Fuck, I’m not fine, but you just got home so I’m sure you don’t feel like talking right now,” you slap a hand on your forehead.

You’re frazzled, but then you hear a small giggle fall from Mat’s lips.

“We can talk, but first we have to go inside,” he gestures to his front door but you quickly shake your head.

“No. I can’t go inside. Besides, it’ll be quick. I just wanted to tell you that I fucked up. I’m insecure and I fucked up big time. I broke up with you because I hate the way people possibly perceive me when they find out we’re dating. You’re older than me and wiser, so I get intimidated by that. That other person from the party just made me really jealous, and I lost my cool which made me not communicate well with you. I became my worst insecurity. I became this little, naive girl who can’t display her emotions, who can’t communicate. I suck and I just wanted to say that I’m sorry,” you rant, voice thick but strong.

“You’re shaking” he reaches out a hand to place on your arm. It's an immediate warmth that you feel and you close your eyes to relish in it.

“Yeah, well I’m really scared right now,” you whisper.

“Why?” He asks back in a whisper.

“Because I love you, but I don’t know if you still love me or even want me,” you admit, taking a chance to peer up at him.

“Always. I always want you and I always love you, but I need there to be a change,” he says and you feel your heart fall.

He’s not being unreasonable, but you wish you could just automatically change. You’d put in the work anyways, especially for him.

“You’re right. I’m a sucky girlfriend and you deserve better, so I have been going to my therapist a lot more. I’m working on how to properly communicate. I’m also trying to remind myself that I’m enough for you and that I can handle your life and our life together. I’m trying,” you explain.

“I’m proud of you,” you smile at his statement.

“Thank you. I should probably get home and let you unpack. I’ll call you later and maybe we can go on a date,” you suggest, smiling shyly at him.

He stays silent which you take as his agreement. You squeeze his arm affectionately and start to walk away, but you feel him tug on your hand. He pulls you towards him and you spin into his arms, your hands subconsciously connecting behind his neck.

“What makes you think I want my girlfriend to leave? I haven’t seen or talked to you in a month. I want a kiss. I want to love you in my bed. I want you right here in my arms,” he secures his arms around your waist and whispers in your ear.

You can feel butterflies flutter in your stomach and your cheeks heat up.

“But you said that I needed to change, so I thought maybe we should have some space,” you explain.

“Well I know it’s going to take some time to make changes, and you’re not the only one who has to change. I also don’t want any more space. We went a month without each other, I want you with me at all times. I love you,” he assures you.

“I love you. I’m so sorry. I promise I’m going to change. I want to be the girl you deserve, the girl you need,” you cry, your tears finally breaking through. All your tension releases from your shoulders and you can’t help but shake in his arms.

“You’re my dream girl. Like I said, it’s only you. You’re the love of my life. Please come inside, take a shower with me,” he pleads, his large hands traveling down to squeeze at your ass.

“Fine. Kiss me first,” you tug on his shirt.

He leans down, sucking your top lip between his two lips. Your body melts into his- especially when his tongue dips into your mouth.

“You’re perfect,” he says into your mouth.

“No, you are,” you grab the keys from his front pocket, smiling at the way his breath hitches at your touch. You unlock his door and drag him in.

You were about to make up for all the lost time.

a/n: Enjoy bffs!!

#mat barzal #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal fluff #mat barzal angst #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal smut #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #new york islanders #visceral in doses

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bucknastysbabe · 11 months

Text

I’m lovin’ it - Aegon II

This is straight crack like I mean if you read this more than once you’re entitled to go do meth behind a strip mall and work overnight stocking. This is for Chris you big fat dirty white bitch why’d you take me off the motherfuckin schedule with yo triflin ass- @teamaemond

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Loser Stoner McDonald’s Worker!Aeg, modern universe, meet fuck, play place defiled more than usual, doggystyle, dirty talk, pnv!sex, I did not beta I just word vomited aggressively

A/N: based off the crazy ass anon that asked if Aegon would fuck in a McDonald’s play place and I couldn’t help but lose my shit

So McDonald’s wasn’t really twenty-four hours in your town. Too small. 10 o’clock would roll around and they usually had one or two workers and every machine was ‘broken’ by then. No really. They told you one time their hot was broken. You asked for coffee.

But you needed some coffee and some fries before going into an all-nighter studying at the local community college in the area. Hopefully the ‘hot’ wasn’t broken or the weird foot guy was working the night shift. You liked the stupid blonde, he was cute and flirty. Usually he would give you free stuff. Argan? Argon…something weird like that.

Walking into the desolate McDonald’s you breathed a sigh of relief at the blonde working tonight. No foot talks. He seemed bored and positively stoned out of his gourd, leaning against the counter. The man drawled, “How can I help you?”

You came closer and snatched at his name tag, making him yelp. Aegon. You snickered, “Aegon. What kinda name is that?” He grimaced and spat back, “A family one. I’m trying to go home early- so what’s the order.” He had a cute blush on his pale cheeks, pale orbs staring you down.

“Uh just a medium coffee and same for the fries. That’s all.”

“That’s a stupid order,” he commented while ringing it up.

You gave him a look, mouth gaping. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Aegon smirked, “I don’t know, I’m about to close, I have all this leftover food and you want a coffee and fries. That’ll be three-oh-eight.” You handed him a five and teased, “Why don’t you eat the leftovers? You’re like…high as balls right now.” Aegon’s lips pouted and he sniffed, “I’m not trying to be one of those fat fuck stoners.”

You raised a brow at his slightly softened midsection and stifled a laugh. Violet eyes narrowed at you and he turned around to make your food. Plopping yourself on the counter you asked, “Soooo, you got siblings?”

“Yes.”

“Are they blonde too.”

“…Yes.”

“Oh. I graduated with Aemond.”

“He’s a dick.”

You laughed and agreed wholeheartedly. Aegon handed you the coffee and fries, having grabbed himself some nuggets in the meantime. He grumbled, “I gotta close soon.” You shrugged, “You don’t want company?”

A brow raised, heat coming across his eyes, “What kind of company are we talking about babe?”

Well.

Aegon had his standard black pants down, fucking you bent over the likely germ infested ball pit of the play place. He said there were no cameras in there…which had to be a total liability. No matter the issue he could fuck and had a nice cock.

His warm hands gripped your hips as he panted in staccato breaths, moaning, “Fuuuck, you’re fucking tight!”

You haphazardly flailed across the balls, unable to gain purchase as he fucked pathetic little ‘ah ah ah’s’ out of you. Reaching back to grab a boney wrist you whined, “C-can we- fuckshit- pleaAse find another spot! I-I d-oooon’t want a needle in ME! Goddamn!”

Aegon laughed, stupidly composed in his situation as he eased you down to the padded floor, hand now on the small of your back to push towards a better angle. You cried out as his cock drug along your sweet spot, pulling and stretching all the right walls. The blonde swatted a hand across your bouncing ass, huffing, “God- you’re gonna make me blow too fast, sh-shit.”

One of his gorgeous hand snuck down between your thighs to get at your swollen clit, sometimes sliding around where his cock stretched your cunt out. You mewled at the obscene feeling, wailing his name. The walls of your pussy were fluttering now, ecstasy taking a hold of body and mind. Chewing on your bottom lip, you thrust back to meet Aegon’s hips in wet slaps, hoarsely moaning.

“Oh Christ,” he whimpered under his breath, tone still low and raspy. Your legs were shaking, Aegon having to pull you up to keep from sliding flush to the ground. He leaned over your sweaty back, cooing in your ear with a playful nip, “Feels that good huh? You’re a needy little thing.”

“‘M gonna cum,” you squeaked with frantic eyes.

He began to nip and lap at your neck, disgustingly hot.

His fingers pinched and tugged at your clit, sending you over the edge with a careening wail, seizing up and milking his thick cock with rhythmic squeezes. Aegon stuttered on a breath, gasping for air as he quickly pulled out and painted your ass with hot cum. The idiot fell back onto his ass, you laying flat on the floor now.

You panted, pussy throbbing in the best way. Aegon moaned in content, “Needed that.” Finally pushing yourself off the floor you retied your ponytail and scoffed, “Yeah I’m not getting any studying done tonight.”

Aegon laughed, an endearing giggle, full lips stretched into a smile. He cocked his head and offered, “We can make this a full time…deal if you wanna help me close up? I’ll make it worth your while.” Then he gave you a cringeworthy wink. You found yourself grinning uncontrollably at the loser, accepting his proposition.

Besides, what’s wrong with a good fuck in the McDonald’s play place from a hot blonde?

#crack fic #aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #hotd smut

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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year

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yandere neteyam pursuing na'vi reader. she resists at first because he comes on too rough but she eventually falls in love and they have a family.

love your work and thank you for more yandere neteyam content, such a struggle to find 🥰🥰

Thank you so much! 💜 Sounds good.

Sweetheart, you are mine and you know it (Yandere! Neteyam x Fem! Reader)

Summary: The new Olo’eyktan, Neteyam, at the peer age of 20 has yet to find his mate. The only woman who he is interested in, Y/n, doesnt want him. The only thing is that he doesn’t take no for an answer.

Warnings: yandere behavior, obsessive Neteyam, stalking, Neteyam being a little bit cocky, manipulative Neteyam + threatening

This hasn’t been proofread yet

[ 3rd Person POV ]

Y/n was born Omatikaya. She grew from an energetic and talkative Na’vi child to a stunning and calmer Na’vi woman. Adulthood had made her beautify stand out.

Every young man of the omatikaya clan had at least thought once about mating with her, even Lo’ak. But they knew that the Olo’eyktan, Neteyam, had been courting her for quite a time now. She had always turned him down, nonetheless. But he had never stopped trying.

Men knew better than to try to get between those two. They knew what Neteyam was able to do, not only he was the Olo’eyktan but one of the best warriors and if during the war against humans in Metkayina territory he could kill various Na’vi adults at the age of 15, they didn’t wanna know what he could do now at the age of 20.

“But pleaseeee” people rolled their eyes at Neteyam’s pleas, anyone could hear them. It was part of his new plan. Instead of pursuing her stalking (since it didn’t go as planned) he would just put social pressure and manipulation onto her. Sooner or later she would say yes, wouldn’t she?

“Neteyam, I am not interested in you” she responded for the hundredth time that day. “Why not? I am all you want and you know it” he smirked. “Ugh! Shut up!” She ended it there before going off to finish her chores.

Night fell and after the communal dinner Neteyam began with his courting again. “Listen, Y/n I am going to set things straight, I want to be your mate and you are obviously ignoring me” he made her follow him to a more secluded area. “But you are going to be mine, sweetheart” he cockily smiled.

Y/n looked at him bewildered. “Haven’t you guessed it? Everyone knows I am after you, no other male nor female will try to mate with you knowing that you have been chosen by me! Do you wanna dishonor your family by dying without a mate? You want to be ashamed of yourself for the rest of your life? Or are you going to choose the Olo’eyktan that has been after you for two fucking years” he roughly finished his speech, cornering her against Hometree.

“You will be mine sooner or later” he smiled at her, but his smile was dark, mysterious and dangerous. Y/n gulped down and looked at him in the eyes. “You will see that you love me” he smiled cheekily while walking away. Y/n sighed loudly once she was left alone.

After months and months of trying, Y/n finally mated him. Neteyam was so happy he felt he was in a dream. People were shocked when the news spread. Nobody would even know if he was able to win Y/n’s heart, guilt trip her or the burn out was so that she just accepted to never hear it again.

Years later, Y/n brought to the world their first born. It was a girl, Neteyam insisted in calling her Trudy as his father always had talked about her with him. Y/n accepted. Trudy was born as the first born of the Olo’eyktan of the Omatikaya and she would be the Tsa’hìk in the future.

She was treated nicely with a calm and collected mom and an overprotective dad. She always asked the story of how they fell in love and such and Y/n could only respond with a sigh before giving her a sweet smile and saying “he never accepts “no” as an answer”. Trudy would laugh about it, her innocent and naïve kid brain not understanding the undertone of her mother. “I tried to tell him no and shoo him away, but to no use”.

“You are mine and you know it, sweetheart” Neteyam laughed while hugging his wife “you were mine the second I laid my eyes on you”.

“And now we have a small princess I’ll take care of” he then picked his daughter up. “Nothing and no one will come between my princesses and me”.

Avatar Taglist: @amerieee @simp-erformarvelwomen

Yandere Avatar Taglist <3: @jkeluv @penquinsqge

#avatar x reader #avatar james cameron #avatar #avatar 2 #yandere avatar (james cameron)#yandere avatar #avatar ( james cameron )#yandere neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar neteyam

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scretladyspider · 11 months

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“Why is there a need for microlabels like demisexual or gray ace? Isn’t that just the asexuality spectrum? Why not just say you’re asexual?”

Let’s talk about the asexuality spectrum and why specificity in labels under asexuality can make a difference—

Asexuality refers to “little to no sexual attraction”. For some aces (short for asexuals), the ‘no sexual attraction’ part of that definition completely serves their needs in a queer label. This is the definition most unfamiliar with asexuality immediately think of.

And I want to be clear that that’s great! It’s a wonderful thing that there’s a word for ‘no sexual attraction’ and that we have more resources addressing this difference as a sexual orientation. Labels are tools. If you find one you like, that resonates with you, use it!

The expectation for sexual attraction is ever present. In the words of Alice Olivia Scarlett, “Love without sex is a difficult concept for society…there are still people who believe that sex is a biological need of the same importance as food and water.”

Our world demands sexual attraction — most often cisgender, heterosexual, heteroromantic attraction to the opposite gender. This expectation exists in queer spaces also, even if gender and sexual orientation are less rigid. Asexuality proudly counters that.

Celebrating differences in a world that says you shouldn’t exist is literally life saving. According to Healthline, “a 2019 study found that LGBTQ people who reported more connectedness to the LGBTQ community were less likely to report suicidal behavior.”

Returning to the definition of asexuality: there are people with no sexual attraction who are served by that part of the definition. They are the black stripe on the asexual flag. There are four stripes —black, gray, white, and purple.

That gray stripe allows for the spectrum, for those experiences that may include rare and/or conditional sexual attraction. This is the reason the definition includes “little to” in its “little to no sexual attraction”. Asexuality with an asterisk, an exception.

In 2003, AVEN founder David Jay proposed semisexual:

“If anyone wants to play a fun game, go to some queer-ass conference (called something like “transcending boundaries”) and play a game where you try to think up a term/identity for every letter of the alphabet. When you do you’ll be forced to think up new, interesting ideas like: Semisexual. It occurs to me that we’ve got a spectrum of sexual intensity, but we don’t yet have a word for those who are halfway in between asexual and full-force sexual. I’d say that this is extremely important: right now we don’t have a way to talk about people who are asexual but maybe feel like being sexual once a year, or sexual people who are just relatively uninterested and don’t know what to do about it. Thoughts?”

This lead to further discussion on asexuality being viewed as a spectrum. In 2006, AVEN forum user KSpaz coined the term “gray A” to refer to a “fuzzy” connection to asexuality. Many others related to this “fuzzy” experience and it became accepted as graysexual/gray ace:

“Alright, so don't know if this term is already around, but if not, I'm coining it now.Gray-A. Is there really a line at which point you are asexual?According to our logo there isn't. Just fuzziness.So, this thread I dedicate to our fuzzy members who may sometimes feel unsure of their asexuality/sexuality.Share your views, stories, whatever makes you think you'd like to call yourself Gray-A.I'll start:In simple terms, I have hetero attractions, can experience physical pleasure, and am indifferent (as opposed to repulsed) to the idea of having sex if it is with someone I care for (though can't imagine it for any situation without utmost trust involved). I don't get turned on and jump my boyfriend, but will respond to him in touchy ways and am pleased to do so willingly, because it does feel nice. If we never had sex, I would have no problem. But if we do some day, I probably won't mind, and may enjoy it to a degree. I call myself asexual, because I am, and because I choose my label.

In February 2006, the user sonofeazel coined the term ‘demisexual’, writing in a thread about their experiences,

…If “sexual” is for both and “asexual” is for neither, maybe we need a new term for people who only have one but not the other? I propose “demisexuals”.

In 2008, OwlSaint proposed the idea of what we now refer to as demisexual, which is when someone would only experience sexual attraction under the circumstance of a close emotional bond.

A demisexual is, in my book at least, someone who does not experience sexual attraction to people in general. I’ve yet to see a single person and think “hot” or “10 out of 10” or “I’d like to hit that”. Sex with someone rarely crosses my mind and when it does it’s usually more along the lines of “could i force myself to with…. ew no”. In that respect, I can and do identify as asexual. However, with someone I’m in love with, it’s completely different, and I might as well be a “full fledged” sexual, but only with that one person. Full fledged meaning actually desiring sex, both for the physical and emotional aspect, being attracted to that special someone, and feeling sexual arousal in terms of wanting to do something on multiple levels instead of simply the biological reflex or “ugh not again”.

Without that “little to” part of the definition of the “little to no sexual attraction” definition of asexuality, there are a lot of people who really wouldn’t have a word for what they are. Asexual would almost fit, but feel like a shrunken sweater; something’s not quite right.

When you almost belong somewhere but don’t entirely, it can feel very isolating. Like you’re not doing “you” right. This is where that specificity comes into play. It gives room for those in that gray space to breathe, a seat at the table when before there was just standing room.

In the words of blogger Siggy in 2012, a self identified gray ace,

Lots of people come to the asexual community, find lots of experiences to identify with, and are glad to finally have a word to describe themselves. But some of those people will feel that they don’t technically fit into the definition of asexual. Are these people supposed to abandon the possibility of a self-identity because of a technicality? Are they to permanently feel like outsiders to the asexual community?

“Gray-A” is a solution to these questions. A gray-A is someone who finds asexuality to be a useful idea, in the sense that it approaches a self-description, even if it does not quite fit. This allows a space where you can have an identity, fit on the ace spectrum, and feel at home in your community, without being disqualified by an arbitrary definition.

There are many, many terms under the asexuality spectrum that delve into specific experiences, some of which go into the gray area and some that do not but that still describe a very specific experience. There is an effort to put language to the unknown, to be better understood.

Even within those served by the definition of no sexual attraction, there is nuance to language discussing specific relationships to sex and sexuality. Terms that describe individual favorability towards sex, or that describe importance of tertiary attraction, for example.

This thread focused on demisexual and graysexual because they’re more widely used. But it’s worth noting these labels do not serve everyone who exists in that in between space. Here is an expanded list of asexuality spectrum labels by asexuals.net.

I personally also use “gray ace” or just “ace” if I don’t feel like explaining myself. But that’s just me. Everyone is different. Everyone is served by different pieces of language and labels. Some are served best by no labels at all. There’s no wrong way to label your aceness.

Labels are magnets on your queer fridge. You can put as many on there as you feel are right for you, and if you stop liking one, you can take it off and stick it in your magnet drawer.

And that gray area? It matters. If you belong in it, you are welcome in ace spaces. I promise.

if you liked this post you can support me on patreon this pride month 🏳️‍🌈

#demisexuality #gray a #gray asexual #ace pride #acespec #text #text post #queer pride #pride month #asexual #asexuality #graysexual #gray ace #demisexual #lgbtqia #lgbtqiap #lgbtqia2s+#queer

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thatfreshi · 7 months

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"Tough Crowd" (Uni AU P. 1)

Really embracing the catty queerness of these fuckers LMAO. Anyways, here's our little intro to Ravenguard Univeristy and Tav's living situation :)

Tw - mention of alcohol

@justporo (If you want me to tag you in part two, leave a comment!)

It's finally move-in day. After getting your Associate's degree at some small-town community college, you finally transferred to Ravenguard University, probably through sheer luck. Perhaps someone dropped out of the waitlist, but you're here now, moving into the place that'll be your home for the upcoming semesters. Soon enough you're asked for your name, and given the key to your room, quickly being ushered to the elevators. The volunteering students are clearly stressed by all the newcomers, so you don't exactly blame them for seeming impersonal.

You read your key, which has deemed you to be in room 717. Sneaking your way over to the floor buttons, you lightly tap 7, and place yourself in one of the empty corners of the elevator. After dropping off a few strangers on lower floors, you finally get to your destination, and find your dorm room shortly after. When you unlock the door, you immediately hear arguing.

"I need the room with the desk! I have far too many exams to study for. Besides, you don't seem like the studying type anyways."

Two women are yelling at each other, one with jet-black hair and the other with piercing eyes and an intimidating demeanor.

"We're all here to study fool."

"Well, as far as I know, you don't want to be a doctor. Besides, aren't you just here as an athlete? Or, my bad, were here as an athlete?"

At this point the ginger is fuming, fists clenched, but simply takes the room they were arguing over and slams the door, locking it immediately. The med student slams her fist on the door.

"Just wait til I tell the RA about this Lae'zel!"

She sighs, clearly still trying to let go of her anger. When she turns from the closed door, she finally realizes you're standing there.

"Sorry about that. Roommate problems, am I right?"

The pale woman nervously chuckles. Dressed in all black, she looks ready for a funeral, well if funerals were comfy and full of college students.

"Uh, yeah. Please don't tell me you're going to be arguing like this every night."

"Well, her and I don't particularly get along. I'm surprised housing even let us be in the same room after how many issues we've had. Though I'm sure I'll learn to tolerate her better in our living situation."

The woman ponders the thought for a moment, and then her eyes light up.

"I forgot to introduce myself. I'm Shadowheart, and yes my parents are hippies. Most people call me Shadow since it's less cringe."

"Well, nice to meet you. Please tell me there's a room I can snag that you aren't fighting about."

"Oh, go down the hall and to the right. That one has a bigger wardrobe, but Lae and I both really wanted the desk."

Your phone vibrates, with a notification from some online magazine.

'Szarr: The Seven Models Behind the Magic'

"Why has this man been doing so many interviews?"

Shadowheart's ears perk up.

"You know Szarr, that fashion guy right? He's been all over the news, I cannot escape it."

"Oh. You may want to be careful how you talk about him. One of his precious prodigies goes here. Kind of a bitch honestly."

She makes a fake throw-up noise, rolling her eyes.

"Wait. One of his models goes here? I assumed they were all full-time."

"He's full-time alright. I've never seen Astarion pause for anything other than himself. Anyways, I suppose I need to unpack my things IN THE ROOM WITHOUT A DESK."

Shadowheart yells the last part loud enough for Lae'zel to hear, which coerces a groan from her behind the locked door. And just like that, she's locked away in her own room, leaving you with the room at the end of the hall. At least it has the nice wardrobe? You put on some music and start to unpack all your bags, soaking in the space. It leaves some to be desired, but you're excited nonetheless. You're woken from the trance however when there's a very loud knock at your dorm door. You wait for a moment, hoping one of the other two will get it, but the knocking simply continues obnoxiously. Making your way to the front door with a scowl on your face, you throw it open.

"Floor meeting in thirty minutes. If you or any of your roommates are late, I'll kill you."

You're met with the topic of your previous conversation: Astarion. While you aren't necessarily into fashion, you've seen so much about this guy as of recent, mostly from people thirsting on Twitter. You almost laugh, knowing Shadowheart will be pissed when she hears that he's the RA for their floor. He doesn't wait for you to respond and simply walks down to the next room. After closing the door, you call for your new gossipy friend.

"Oh Shadow, I have wonderful news!"

She opens her door and leans in the frame.

"Please tell me I heard that voice wrong."

"Nope. I guess if you want to complain about Lae'zel, you'll have to see your favorite person!"

She lets out a heavy sigh.

"Fine. I guess I'll just deal with her. Better the devil you know than the devil you don't."

You knock on Lae'zel's door to tell her about the meeting, but you're simply met with a yell of 'I know!'

"Geez, tough crowd."

"She's the toughest crowd you'll meet. Don't ever try to impress her, you'll die trying."

Shadowheart gives you this slice of advice while putting her hair in a black claw clip.

The next thirty minutes pass by quickly as you decorate the walls of your room. Posters, little pieces of art, pictures of friends from home. When you leave the room to go to the floor meeting, you're met with the overlapping voices of everyone from floor seven, clearly annoyed that they have to be here. You and Shadowheart sit on a couch in the common area, and Lae'zel stands off to the side.

"Okay, I'm going to make this quick."

The room gets quiet quickly as Astarion speaks up, pushing his shades down his nose slightly so he can make intense eye contact with anyone who interrupts him.

"I'm your RA for the year. No, I will not answer your calls. If I'm sleeping, you better not wake me up. I do not care if you have an air fryer in your room, but if you burn down the university I will be pissed. To make it entirely clear, I'm only doing this to make a little extra cash, so do not expect me to be, how do you say... present."

The room is silent, both pleased that he doesn't seem to care and entirely annoyed by his attitude.

"Any questions?"

Once again, no one speaks.

"Great! If you truly need something, I would suggest you go to the RA on floor eight, my wonderful friend Gale, as he actually cares about the well-being of strangers. Good day!"

The large group mutters as they all make their way back to their rooms. Shadowheart turns to whisper to you.

"Oh Gale fucking hates him, and I guarantee you he didn't sign off on being the RA of two floors. Can't wait to see that catfight."

You laugh at her comment, not noticing the white-haired man approaching the two of you.

"Shadowheart."

"Astarion."

"Who's your new friend?"

She then realizes she never actually asked your name.

"Tav. It's Tav."

Astarion makes a noise that lies somewhere between a laugh and a scoff.

"Fascinating. Well Tav, how would you like to be my plus-one to a party tonight? I would ask our emo queen here, but I'm sure she has some sulking and studying to do already."

"And I thought you'd be selling out on another Instagram post, but I guess you just really love bothering people. Have fun though, if you even know how to do that."

And with that comment. Shadowheart is back off to her room, most likely to sulk and study like Astarion said.

"Ugh, don't mind her. She just doesn't understand the hustle. Anyways, Tav was it? You seem like just the kind of person I'd love to silently drink champagne with."

You're silent for a moment, unsure if he really is as bad as Shadowheart makes him out to be.

"The champagne is free by the way."

What better way to sell a broke college student on a night out?

"Alright, guess I'm in."

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #au #shadowheart #lae'zel #astarion #gale of waterdeep #freshiau

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