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#pretty sure i was bargaining or something
morurui · 3 days
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Minor spoilers for chaos theory episode 1
I think that chaos theory is going to be using the nublar five as a way to show the five stages of grief (see what I did there)
I’m not a hundred percent sure of this, but I think chaos theory is going to definitely show them all going through grief and how they all processed Brooklynn’s death differently.
Denial- hmm I wonder who denial could be- It’s Darius without even needing to think about it. From him calling Brooklynn’s phone constantly giving her updates to continuing his search for the allosaurus it’s clear that he’s going through a quite severe denial stage.
Anger- While we don’t know the extent of how the loss has affected Sammy, Brooklynn, and Kenji; I’m pretty sure Kenji is going to represent anger. From the implication that him and Darius are not talking to how he reacted to Brooklynn being kidnapped it shows how Kenji often lashes out when something happens to his friends (especially Brooklynn).
Bargaining- I think it’s pretty clear that Ben is going to be representing this stage. He’s dove pretty deep into a rabbit hole about Brooklynn’s death and it’s clear he’s using this to cope with it. “If I get to the bottom of this, maybe then things will be okay. I just need to figure out everything.” It’s his own way of keeping Brooklynn in his life while seeming productive.
Depression and Acceptance- Now I’m not really sure who’s going to fill out depression and acceptance between Sammy and Yaz, but I think Sammy might represent Depression while Yaz represents acceptance. Do I think Yaz is over Brooklynn’s death? Absolutely not. But do I think she’s going to be the most accepting of it out of the whole group? Most likely. I don’t know how depression is going to show in Sammy, but I think we might get hints of it throughout the series.
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evonik-k · 2 years
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Something in me died
the day my hero died.
I found out at six am
barely awake
ready to do nothing at work
when I found out my hero died.
a text from a loved one,
a video from a man who shared
a love so different
But with him
i shared and shed tears
a quiet sob in a bathroom
drowned and simultaneously echoed
with the sorrow of millions
Something in me died
i don’t know what it is
but i know it is gone
maybe the illusion
of shelter
behind a shield made from a screen
maybe innocence
of laughter
shared with a good man
maybe naivete
that those we look up to
are indestructible
‘Good things don’t happen to heroes’
he once said
words that haven’t left 
my head in weeks
a mantra
i plan to etch into my skin with ink
a reminder
to never become a hero
so that maybe
good things may happen
and i may never have to endure this pain again
Something in me died, 
And much like with him,
all I have are memories
pictures in a gallery
texts in a chat
Something in me died that day.
And I’ll never get it back.
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gibbearish · 6 months
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so like i want to talk more abt what suicidal means but the problem is "suicidal ideation presents in two general forms, active and passive. the thing most people think of as suicidal is the active version, where the person *actively* desires to be dead and/or is making a plan to get there. the passive form however gets almost no attention in media so many people experiencing it are unaware they are even depressed, much less passively suicidal. some examples: not wanting to experience death but feeling like you wouldn't mind if you didn't wake up tomorrow or just stopped existing; feeling deeply exhausted with just the entire concept of being alive; even feeling like you want to run away, change your name, and start a whole new life; none of these look like suicidal ideation to most people because they don't involve actively doing anything to get from point a to point b, especially the more abstract ones like the start a new life thing - but remember that in order to truly start a whole new life, you have to destroy your current one. it's not suicidal as in wanting to actually DIE die, it's just. wanting something close enough to scratch the itch. but just because you haven't booked the ticket doesn't mean you don't still revisit the 'vacation activities at point b' tab occasionally to daydream, yknow?" is i think very informative and specific, but its also quite long and run on-y so people are v likely to tap out like a third of the way through it, whereas "suicidal doesnt necessarily mean wanting to die" is way shorter and therefore catchier, but is also the kind of nonspecific phrasing that gets you a thousand angry anons about how you said all suicidal people are just pretending they actually want to die or some dumb shit. so it's a fun line to toe
#especially when youre far too lazy to dig up sources however if u google passive suicidal theres a lot of info#pretty front and center altho you will get jumpscared by the size 1000 font suicide hotline number#or maybe you wont but i sure was. why was it so big#in this house we simply post both as part of another hashtag relatable post in the hopes that the two for one bargain#will entice viewers to read the whole thing and go 'wait but /i/ feel like that what do you mean'#and then make a meta joke about it in the tags so the viewers think we're hip and cool#nah but seriously i see ppl not knowing abt this . so much and every time im like !!!!!!! no youre not crazy youre not supposed#to feel like this!!!!#so its one of the things where im like nah idc if im being annoying abt this as long as i hit the one (1) todays lucky 10000 who needs it#this one i dont remember seeing on any articles but id like to propose also that having trouble imagining your future can count too#and like obviously all of these have exceptions right like. ppl can just want to start a whole new life for non suicidal reasons#but if theres a pattern of these things or you find yourself being drawn back to one over and over again thats#when you should start being like ok somethings afoot#like the imagining ur future one you could easily have trouble visualizing things or even just Not Be Especially Imaginative#...or... it could be that deep down you dont feel like you /have/ one so your brain just. steers away from the subject entirely#and ykno. knowing which one it is is usually pretty helpful LOL#anyways. sorry theres no paragraph breaks i could not for the life of me figure out a good spot for them#/suicide#/suicide mention#/suicidal ideation#/depression#/death mention#and of course i think also like a lot of things this is more of a spectrum than a binary like obviously 'run away and#start a new life' is def a bit less active than 'id be ok w it if i didnt wake up tomorrow' but theyre still both on the lassive side#passive*#eugh im rambling now and not even in the slightly contained way the post itself is#im hitting post without rereading for the 40th time otherwise ill remember another tangent so if theres#any errors left my apologies
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dduane · 1 year
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Hello.
I've seen you posting detailed information about the WGA strike and wondered if you had any suggestions as to how those of us not directly involved can show our support for the Union?
Okay, bearing in mind that all this is entirely subjective at the moment (and so far lacking any more useful input from other sources): a few thoughts.
This will be my third WGA strike. (My first one was in 1988, just after I'd made my first live action sale—s1e6 of ST:TNG). And the thought keeps occurring to me at the moment that this time out, there's a potentially gamechanging player on the field that wasn't there before: truly pervasive social media.
(Adding a cut here, because this goes on a bit...)
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In 2007, social media as we now understand it was still in its cradle. Now, though, those of us who're striking can make our voices much more widely heard. And so can those of us who're not, but just want to show solidarity. Last time, the AMPTP was able to do pretty much what it wanted without the public noticing or having even a medium-profile way to make their feelings known. But this time? Not so much.
So as an otherwise uninvolved person who wants to show solidarity, I'd start with something seemingly low-value. If I was on Twitter, I'd start routinely tweeting about the strike and my support for it—not obsessively, just persistently, a couple/few times a week—using the Twitter hashtags that are gaining ground even now, such as #DoTheWriteThing (and of course #WGAStrike). I would make sure I was following @WGAEast and @WGAWest, to keep an eye on what's going on.
Additionally: I would start politely, but repeatedly—again, maybe once or twice a week at least, and not stopping—tweeting the various major players in the AMPTP, especially the streamers: Amazon, Netflix, Hulu et al. I would start suggesting that their current attitude toward the WGA's contract negotiations is not only unrealistic but potentially (for the AMPTP) bad for business. (And self-destructive, too, as if this goes on much longer in this vein, they'll be seemingly eagerly casting themselves as The Baddies.) I would suggest that their bad behavior, if not amended by them coming to the table to bargain in good faith, might start affecting both my interest in their shows and my willingness to keep paying unreasonable people for access to them.
I should emphasize here that so far there've been no formal calls from anyone for boycotts or subscription cancellations. For the moment, this strikes me as wise. The point for WGA-friendly observers, right now, would be to keep what's happening to the writers visible: to keep bringing it up: to refuse to allow it to be swept under the rug. The "They only want two cents on the dollar!" angle seems potentially useful the more it's repeated. The point is to keep the repetition going: to make it plain, day after day, that the other side's being not just unreasonable, but greedy. Day after day, and week after week, and (if necessary: please Thoth may it not be...) month after month.
And tweeting is hardly all that can be done. Email is cheap and easy. But actual letters, written on actual paper and mailed, can still create a surprising amount of attention in a corporate office. (The saying in TV used to be that for every person who actually writes in about an issue, there are ten, or a hundred, who feel the same way but never got around to it.) Write letters to all the AMPTP members' CEOs, and make your feelings on the WGA's core demands politely plain. ...Especially when those CEOs collectively made almost three-quarters of a billion-with-a-B dollars in salaries last year, when many of the writers working on their shows can't afford rent.
After that: here's another thought, a little more physical. If by chance you're in an area where one or the other of the Guilds are picketing: turn out and support them! Honk when you pass: and if you're interested, show up and offer to walk the picket lines with them. These things get noticed. (In 2007 a bunch of us, both Guild members and non-, caused significant astonishment by turning out to picket AMPTP members' offices in Dublin.)
...Obviously not all that many people are going to be positioned, in terms of location or their own work and time commitments, to show up physically. But online? Find ways to keep this issue visible. The AMPTP wants this to go quiet, wants people to get bored with it, wants people to find reasons to blame the writers. They've tried spinning the story that way before. Don't let them pull that shit. Find ways to back those who're calling them on that, publicly. They do respond to this kind of thing (though they may strenuously deny it). If enough attention continues to be paid by the general public, they will blink—if sometimes excruciatingly slowly, as Disney began to blink over the dispute tagged #DisneyMustPay.
As viewers, and as viewers who pay for subscriptions to things, we far outnumber them. Help be a part of making the AMPTP understand that this quest for a truly fair deal is not going to go away. And the longer they try to act like the Guild's negotiation positions are beneath their notice, the more it's going to hurt them, and the stupider and greedier it's going to make them look.
...That's all I've got for the moment, as I need some lunch. :) ...But I hope this has helped. And thanks for your concern, and your desire to stand in solidarity with us! It's so welcome. :)
ETA: here's a link to the Guild's social media toolkit, for those who'd like to change PFPs or icons, etc., to show their support.
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letoasai · 4 months
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Will work for food
DP x DC An idea that's probably been done before but... here it is again.
~~
It was not an ideal setting for this. Out in the open, debris being their only cover. An unnatural storm closing in. The area had been evacuated but there was still no telling how many civilian eyes could be on them at this very moment. 
The League was scattered, making this current group a touch at odds while away from the majority of their normal teams. 
Batman stood with Red Robin, Flash, Superboy, and Raven. It wasn’t a bad lineup, but things were getting dicy. 
A monster had appeared, a creature foreign to most of them. With it came storms of all kinds, winds, hail, rain. It was a mess but there was nothing natural about it. The hail shattered the pavement. The winds were picking buildings up off their foundations. The blue lightning went without saying. The ice was changing the terrain. The temperature changes were disorienting to most of the heroes.  
Worse was the fact that this creature seemed to be able to duplicate itself, spreading the chaos out to a much wider area. They were having trouble even touching the thing let alone capturing it. 
“Are you sure about this?” Batman asked, a deep frown etched into his face as he watched Raven mark out a summoning circle. 
“It’s the only idea i have.” She said bluntly, shivering from the sudden chill. “That thing is not of this realm. We need something else not of this realm to subdue it.” 
“I hear what you’re saying but summoning a demon to deal with a demon still leaves us with a demon.” Flash said, seeing the flaw in this plan. 
“Unless you know this one personally or something.” Red Robin offered, his voice exhausted. 
“It’s not a demon.” Raven said, tone irritated but it wasn’t like any of them were having a good day. “Depending on how you want to look at it, it’s far worse than a demon. That thing came from the Infinite Realm.” 
Superboy just grunted once, watching her put the finishing touches on her spell circle. “You said that in a tone that said it was in capital letters. What’s the Infinite Realm?” 
“Bad news and something we shouldn’t freaking touch.” Raven answered swiftly. She stood, eyes going over her work. 
“Then what the hell are we doing?” Flash asked quickly, all of them tensed as the wind started to pick up again. If a hurricane was thrown at them, there was little they’d be able to do about it. 
“Raven.” Batman’s voice was serious. “You’re sure?” 
“It’s all i’ve got.” She repeated. “This is not a problem this realm was meant to handle on short notice. We need help.” 
There were several things in that one statement he didn’t like. “Who are you summoning?” 
Raven was looking rather pale herself. “The Ghost King. The King of the Infinite Realm. I’ve heard word that he can be bargained with so… we’re gonna give it a shot.” 
She didn’t wait for permission from anyone else to throw in their two cents on the matter. She threw her hands out, alien words no one else understood on her lips. The chant repeated and the summoning circle began to glow a green that the present Bats didn’t care for. 
It crept up the walls of the summoning circle in oddly pretty patterns before a gaping void opened on the ground. Silently, a figure rose into the circle from that same void. The king was smaller than they’d been imagining the last minute or two. He was human shaped and sized, a black crown floating several inches over his head. He was a wispy figure, face hidden by a large hood but there were strands of white hair floating around their shadowed face. He’d had nothing but a smoky looking tail when he’d first appeared but that had now split into solid looking legs. 
Given his size, he seems like a young adult, but it was hard to say for certain without seeing his face. 
“Woah.” Red Robin muttered, Superboy agreeing with the sentiment. 
“Heroes?” The Ghost King wondered, voice soft and lethargic. “Interesting.” 
Raven bowed her head in a show of respect. “Your Majesty. I apologize for the abrupt summons. We have a dire situation and are willing to make a deal for your help.” 
“A deal…” His voice echoed gently. He spoke as if raising his voice would shatter the very air around them. “That’s not something to choose lightly. What do you want from me?” 
Raven swallowed, her body rigid with nerves. She was almost relieved when Batman took over. 
“As i understand it, we have a being from your realm here in ours. We are underprepared to deal with such destruction and-” 
“Of my realm?” The King interrupted softly, head tipped a little as his attention turned to Batman. “Who?” 
Flash laughed nervously. “We’re not on a first name basis or anything but the guy seems to control the weather.” He pointed up and the sky above them was darkening the longer they spoke. 
The King made a noise like he’d clucked his tongue and it struck all of them as a very human kind of gesture despite his title. 
“I can handle that. Your deal?” 
Raven inhaled again, this obviously being the part she was dreading. “Blood, i have the blood of the Demon Lord Trigon-” 
“Pass.” 
That drew everyone up short. The others didn’t exactly understand the significance of Raven offering her blood but it clearly wasn’t something she’d expected to be declined so quickly. 
“My soul then….” Raven muttered. 
“Raven, no!” Superboy hissed. “The fuck!” 
Batman was also eyeing her unhappily. “Absolutely not. You are not Constantine.” 
Fortunately for the heroes, each of which was ready to revolt for such a barter, the Ghost King waved the thought away. 
“Nah.” He tugged on his hood a little and Batman realized he was likely brushing away one of those white strands of hair from his face. “That’s the thing about being the King of the Infinite Realm. Souls come to me one way or another in time. No need to preorder them.” 
Raven’s shoulders sagged, eyes shifting as she rapidly tried to think of something else she could offer. 
“What do you want?” Red Robin asked before anyone else could say something stupid. “You’re the one that’s going to fight this threat for us. What’s a good deal?” 
The King turned to him and stared. They could only assume he was contemplating his answer when he hummed quietly. “Food.” 
“Wha…” Flash muttered. 
The Ghost King just nodded. “Food from your realm. It’s been…a long time since i’ve eaten.” 
“Really? Like we could go grab you a burger and that would be cool?” Superboy asked, a touch suspicious, but the King just nodded.  
“Deal.” Raven said before anyone would make it worse. “A meal for returning this threat back to your realm.” 
The King nodded again, and each of them backed up several paces when the walls to the summoning circle broke apart and the King stepped out. For the briefest of moments he seemed to nearly stumble under the gravity of actually ‘walking’ but he got over it quickly enough. 
“Can we offer you any assistance?” Batman asked. 
The King shook his head. “No.” He wandered off towards the storm, the floating crown on top of his head seeming a little larger. He moved confidently and with purpose. “Oh Vortex…” He called, walking into the winds. 
He sounded young, but all of them agreed immediately that they never wanted to hear him beckoning them the same way. His tone was dangerous, and he walked right through a car that had been flung in his direction. 
“Cool.” Red Robin muttered. 
“Simmer down, Red.” Superboy muttered. All of them wanted to follow, but with the unstable weather and a literal Ghost King wandering about, staying out of the way felt like the best option. Of course that didn’t mean they weren’t dying of curiosity. 
Flash moved to stand beside Raven, making sure she wasn’t about to topple over because of the power it must have taken to summon a king from another dimension. “You good?” 
“Yeah.” she breathed out a sigh. “Honestly, this was an unforeseen best case scenario. You should really go get that food for him.” 
Batman moved to her otherside, hearing the voices over comms noticing a shift in what was happening. “You think it will be over that fast?” 
“Yes.” 
“Well-” Flash looked up at the sky that was rapidly clearing. “Yep. I’ll be right back.” He was gone in a blur but it was hard to believe a change was happening so quickly. 
“Has it even been a full minute?” Superboy asked. “I mean, damn…” 
“Someone better have been recording visuals.” Red Robin muttered. “We are absolutely missing something amazing.” 
“He’s the King of the infinite Realm.” Raven said. “It’s the realm that connects every other realm and it is as the name implies… infinite. He rules it. I don’t even think Trigon would dare mess with him.” 
Batman had his arms crossed, still listening to the amazed chatter over comms. “Should it be suspicious that all he wants is food?” 
“He made the deal.” Raven shrugged. “He could have asked for anything. Literally.” She stopped speaking when the hooded king returned. He was floating this time though only a foot or two off the ground. He didn’t look tired or dirty or anything. 
Just the same ethereal otherness he’d arrived with. “Done.” He announced. 
“What uh- happened to the guy?” Superboy asked, pointing vaguely at where the storm had been raging. 
The Ghost King just dug into his cape and pulled out…a thermos. “Souped him. He’s gonna have a little time out.” 
“Oh my god, i have so many questions.” Red Robin whispered. 
The thermos was put away and Batman was suppressing his own urge to ask a dozen questions over what just occurred. They’d been struggling with the Infinite creature for hours and countless lives had no doubt been altered. Clean up would take weeks if not months and this Ghost King handled it in minutes. 
“My food?” 
“On the way.” Raven said immediately. “Flash is one of the fastest men on the planet. He’ll be right back.” 
The King nodded and looked around before moving to a pile of bricks that had once been a fence. He sat down and waited, somehow looking regal among the wreckage. 
“So… I’m Red Robin.” Batman looked up again when his son was sliding closer to introduce himself. “Superboy, Raven, Batman.” He gestured and the King’s hood shifted as he followed Red Robin’s introduction of them. “Is there something we can call you or is your Majesty the most appropriate?” 
The Ghost King sat in silence for a moment before reaching up to lower his hood. The shadows that had hidden his face disappeared revealing a young man only a little older than Tim. Maybe around Jason’s age. His hair was indeed white, and was braided down the nape of his neck save for the tufts of hair that floated around his face. 
His skin was pale, and Batman thought it might have been gray or even blue in different light. His ears were pointed and his eyes were a haunting green. 
With the hood out of the way, the crown lowered to sit on his head. 
“Phantom.” He finally answered. “You can call me Phantom.” 
Raven bowed her head again and Red Robin beamed. “Thank you for helping us! We literally couldn’t have done it without you.”
Phantom nodded again but without his hood to shield him there was something shy about the action. 
The Flash reappeared in a cloud of dust, two bags of fast food in one hand and a collection of drinks under the other arm. “I got a little of everything!” He announced. “Got some burgers and some chicken nuggets and fries and onion rings. There’s one of those little apple pies in here somewhere too.
Phantom took the bags with a small smile and set them beside him so he could go through them. Superboy helped with the drinks, setting everything down so Phantom could have his pick. There were three different sodas, a lemonade, and a water. 
It wasn’t fancy and probably wasn’t a fair trade of a meal for his services but he didn’t seem disappointed. 
In a flash of rings made of light, Phantom transformed. The otherness of him was still there, but instead of a noble king of a realm, a young…very living human was in his place. Black hair instead of white was still braided down his neck and the strands around his face hung limp instead of floating. 
Those eerie green eyes were now blue but that– oddly enough– was not the most startling thing about his transformation. He wore a large hoodie and jeans but his feet were bare. 
His hands and feet were almost skeletal, and his face was gaunt and starved looking. His eyes were slightly sunken and his skin was a sickly kind of pale. 
He looked emaciated, but there was the smallest of smiles on his face when he ate one fry and then another. He took a sip from every drink offered to him and then took a bite out of the burger. 
They couldn’t help but stand there and watch, all of them transfixed over what they were seeing. 
Phantom took two more bites before wrapping up the rest of his burger and placing it back in the bag. 
“Not to your liking?” Flash asked, voice small. 
Phantom licked his fingers and shook his head. “No, it was good. I’m just full. I’ll take it with me and eat it later when i’m hungry again.” 
Batman could only imagine the size of his stomach. Stopping now was probably the healthiest thing he could have done if he wanted to keep the food down. He cleared his throat. “Are you alright?” 
“Mhmm.” Phantom nodded, the rings of light appearing again. He was back in his healthier looking ghostly form. That was an oxymoron, wasn’t it? A healthy ghost form… 
“You’re still alive.” Raven whispered, stuck in her shock. “The living shouldn’t… The Infinite Realm isn’t…” 
Phantom’s lips tipped up in a smile. “You’re right, but wrong. I’m both. I’m dead. I’m alive. I’m balance.” He paused for a moment. “I haven’t been in a living realm for a while… guess i’ve been neglecting that side of me. Thanks for the food, it was a good deal.” 
He was gathering up the bags he clearly planned to take with him. 
“You should come back.” Red Robin spat the words out, likely before giving them any real thought. “I’ll take you to lunch. I’ll take you like… all the time. I am not going to pretend to know what you have going on but… shit, Agent A would disown me if i did not offer to feed you.” 
Phantom looked cold briefly. “Agent… A…?” 
Red Robin winced, “Code name for my grandfather. He’s an amazing cook.” 
“Red Robin.” Batman scowled at him. 
“Oh, what? He’s gonna give you the look for you not being the one to offer.” Red Robin said unapologetically, but the explanation had Phantom softening again. “What do you say? Lunch? Do i have to summon you?” 
“Jesus, Red. Let him actually decline or accept.” Superboy was snickering. 
Phantom looked between them, the confusion on his face clearing up after a beat. A piece of paper appeared between his fingers. It had some kind of squiggle on it none of them could read at a glance. He handed it over to Red Robin. 
“Have that on you, say my name. I’ll find you.” Phantom said. “I should…eat again.” 
“We…appreciate you helping us.” Raven added quickly, determined that they make a good impression. 
Phantom’s look grew warmer again. “It was fun.” With his bags and drinks in his arms, he wandered back over to the summoning circle. “I don’t mind helping when the trouble is severe and you were right. This particular problem was mine to clean up. Sorry about him, by the way. Vortex is an asshole.” 
Superboy and Flash both snorted. “Thanks anyway.” 
Phantom nodded at them again, floating in the middle of the circle before his eyes glowed that bright, toxic green again. He slipped inside the void and disappeared as quickly as he arrived, the remains of the summoning circle erasing itself. 
“So… That happened.” Flash muttered, not sure how they were gonna put this in a report to the rest of the League members. Batman wasn’t so sure either. 
“I can’t believe you were just hitting on the Ghost King, Red.” Superboy laughed. “I mean… Lunches?”
“What?” 
Raven was on her phone. “I am already telling Nightwing.” 
“What!? Hey!” Red Robin was looking between them. “I wasn’t hitting on him. You leave Wing out of this!” 
“No way.” 
“You asked him on a date, man!” Superboy grinned. “All the titans are going to know about this in the next hour.” 
“You guys suck!” Red Robin growled, his face a flame. 
Batman just sighed. “There’s clean up to do. Get to work.” 
He definitely did not need to think about his son’s audacity, coming onto a King of an entire realm. Where did he even learn that kind of behavior?
~~
Masterlist
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serpentandlily · 1 month
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Lost in a Labyrinth - Azriel x Reader
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Lost in a Labyrinth I - Azriel x Reader
Summary: Lonely and heartbroken after his near kiss with Elain, Azriel finds himself at the door to the most exclusive pleasure house in Hewn City, The Labyrinth, taking Rhysand’s cruel advice. What he expected to find was a pretty girl to warm a bed with him for a single night. But instead he finds something he never thought existed—his mate. A mate that is tangled up in something far more sinister than he could ever imagine. 
Warnings: smut (minors dni), reader is a prostitute
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
Part I
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
“So you will leave Elain alone. If you need to fuck someone, go to a pleasure house and pay for it, but stay away from her.” 
Rhysand’s words had played over and over again in his head since the Winter Solstice, three months ago. Azriel wasn't sure why he was taking him up on his shitty advice now but by some will of his own, he was standing in the shadows of the alley across the street from The Labyrinth—Hewn City’s most exclusive brothel. 
Azriel only knew of this place because some of the high ranking nobles he spied on talked about it often. It was known for its secrecy, for making sure their clientele had confidentiality. There were far more pleasure houses that were known to the public, even one in Velaris, but the last thing Azriel wanted was word getting around that he had been seen visiting one. Partly because he liked keeping his love affairs secret, but mostly because he didn’t want to give that satisfaction to Rhysand. 
When his shadows came back with no reports of any sightings of faeries nearby, Azriel crossed the distance to The Labyrinth. He knocked five times on the plain looking, unassuming door, following the instructions he had overheard. 
A sliding peephole opened revealing a pair of dark eyes. “A bargain, Shadowsinger,” a male voice said through the door. “A copper for your eyes.”
“A silver for your tongue,” Azriel agreed. He felt a burning sensation behind his ear, the bargain tattoo forming. 
This was another thing he had learned from spying— the secret bargain that would grant you access to The Labyrinth. A bargain that he wouldn’t speak of the people and things he might see here so long as they kept their silence in regards to his identity. 
The door swung open a second later and the male guard ushered him in. The guard gave him a once over, his eyes stopping on the dagger sheathed on his thigh. 
“No weapons allowed, Shadowsinger,” the guard ordered. “Especially around the girls.”
Azriel wordlessly unsheathed Truth-teller and let his shadows take it away. He didn’t tell the guard that it was pointless, that he could summon it back at any time regardless of whatever wards they had set up around here—his shadows didn’t abide by the typical rules of magic. But the guard didn’t need to know that. 
The guard held out a gloved hand. “The entrance fee.”
Azriel reached into his pocket and pulled out a small pouch filled with coins. He set it in the guard’s palm without question. 
The guard gave him a dip of the head, satisfied, before gesturing for him to continue on. Azriel strided down the dim hallway. He could already smell various aphrodisiacs and drugs amongst the intoxicating scent of arousal in the air. It spurred him on, kept his feet moving on the dark red carpet, not allowing him the chance to second guess his decision to come here. 
He wasn’t sure what magic was at play, or if they specifically scented the hallway to further get their clients in the mood, but something was tugging him forward. 
He finally made it to the other end of the hallway, where a black door was awaiting him. He opened it slowly, cautiously and when no threat appeared, stepped through the threshold. The door opened up into a large foyer of sorts with a large candle chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 
Straight ahead was a grand staircase that led to the second floor. On both sides of the foyer were large double doors with masked guards standing in front of them, swords strapped to their backs.
Waiting for him in the center of the room was an older, High Fae female with generous curves, dressed decadently. A polite smile graced her pretty but aging face as she took him in. 
“Shadowsinger,” she greeted with a dip of the head, her hands clasped in front of her. “Welcome to The Labyrinth. My name is Lydia. I will be your point of contact during your time here. Please follow me, I will show you to the girls so you may make your selection.” 
This wasn’t the first time Azriel had visited a pleasure house. Gods, when they were younger, him, Rhysand and Cassian had gone to some together. Had even taken the same girl once. But this felt…different. The atmosphere was soft, sensual—not rowdy like the other brothels he had been to. 
He followed Lydia into the first set of double doors, which led down another long corridor with more doors lining the wall, all numbered. Until they reached the end where another set of double doors waited. As soon as Lydia pushed them open and gestured for him to continue, soft music crept through the air.
Azriel walked into a heavily perfumed room, dimly lit much like everywhere else in this place. Dark red, velvet settees and cushions lined the walls and floors. Silks hanging from the ceilings gave each space a bit of privacy. A bar was on the opposite wall, fully stocked with various alcohols. Males and females, alike, were milling about the room in various states of undress, some paired up on the couches and chairs. 
At the front of the room was a wall made entirely of glass that overlooked a courtyard. Hanging plants and flowered vines decorated the space. A large fountain bubbled in the middle of it. Girls in lingerie and silk robes sat on the stone benches and cushions on the floor, lingered near the fountain, danced to the soft music in corners of the courtyard—all giggling and chattering with each other.
“These are the girls in The Labyrinth,” Lydia explained. “If you would like to see our selection of males, let me know.” 
His eyes wandered over the girls, all so beautiful and unique. Every single type of fae was here—from nymphs to firelings to High Fae. But his gaze was drawn towards a lone figure in one of the second story alcoves. 
His breath was sucked from his lungs the minute his eyes fell on her. She was…she was so beautiful. The most beautiful female he had ever seen in his five hundred years of living. She was dressed in a light pink lingerie set, a sheer robe hanging over it with white fur trims. She was alone, resting an elbow on the stone railing with her chin plopped in her hand as she gazed out into the carved mountainside within Hewn City. 
He couldn’t rip his eyes away from her. 
“Are any of them suited to your tastes, Shadowsinger?” Lydia questioned from beside him, knocking him out of whatever spell he had been put under. 
“Her,” he answered, his voice a mere whisper, as he dipped his head towards the female he couldn’t help but stare at. 
Lydia murmured something to one of the masked servants walking around with trays of champagne flutes. A moment later, one returned and handed the female a slip of paper. She clicked her tongue at whatever she read. 
“Apologies, Shadowsinger,” she said, “But it looks like she’s already been chosen for tonight. Do any—”
“By who?” Azriel growled before he even realized, his shadows whirling around him. Lydia looked up at him with a stern look that accentuated all the fine lines on her face. 
“You know I can’t tell you that,” she chided. Azriel gave her a sheepish look, not knowing what had come over him. “It looks like any of the other girls are still up for the taking if you’d like to choose another?” 
But Azriel couldn’t stop staring at the girl in the pink. Couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her. None of the other girls caught his attention. He had come here looking for a quick, no strings attached, fuck but that desire, that need—it was like it had been sucked right out of him. 
“I…” he trailed off, suddenly reeling back into his body. Lydia was staring up at him expectedly but he took a step away. “N-no. I’m sorry. I should…I should go.” 
Not a second later, his shadows swirled around him, whisking him away. 
⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆
Azriel wasn’t sure what drew him back to The Labyrinth the next night. Or the night after. Each time he came, he asked for that girl in pink, and each time, he was told she had already been booked for the night. It would’ve been easy to accompany Mor to Rita’s and find a plethora of females that would fuck him for free. But none of them would’ve been her. 
He wasn’t even sure why he was becoming so obsessed with a girl he’d never even talked to. Obsessed enough to travel to Hewn City, pay the copious entrance fee, just to leave when he was told she was still not available. 
But here he was. 
Again. 
Standing at the doors to The Labyrinth. 
It had become such a reoccurrence that Lydia would merely shake her head no at the sight of him, already knowing what he was there for. He was sure tonight would go more or less the same. But he was surprised when he caught sight of Lydia standing in the large, intricate foyer and she shook her head yes. 
“Well, Shadowsinger,” she said, “I admire your persistence. It seems it is your lucky day. The girl you’ve been waiting for is available. Please, continue on up the stairs and into The Labyrinth. She will be waiting for you behind the ninth door.” 
Azriel gave her a dip of the head before striding past her to the staircase. His shadows were swarming him—excited about something. He tuned them out, pushing open the black doors waiting for him at the top of the stairs. 
He paused for a second, feeling like he had suddenly been transported somewhere else. Instead of one long hallway like he’d been expecting, the doors opened to a maze of large pillars, multiple pathways lit by candles placed on the floor. 
He sent his shadows forward to scout the place and locate the ninth door that Lydia had mentioned. He followed their trail which led him to a red door with a number nine painted on it in a darker shade of red that looked suspiciously like blood. 
He let out the breath he had been holding as he wrapped his scarred fingers around the doorknob and slowly pushed it open. 
Slow, sultry music met his ears and the scent of pomegranates and cardamom flooded his senses. It was intoxicating, beckoning him forward. He softly shut the door behind him before he completely paused in his tracks as he turned to face the room. 
There, standing with her back to him, was the girl who had been utterly consuming his mind since he had first laid eyes on her. She was wearing a light pink nightgown that laced down her lower back. She was bent forward slightly, lighting a candle on a coffee table set up in front of a pair of red velvet couches. 
His eyes trailed over the room for a second, trying to gather his bearings. It was a large room, large enough to have a sitting area separate from the four-poster bed covered in silk and textured fabrics. Everything fit the same color scheme as the other rooms he’d been in, red and black. Lit only by candles, the soft lighting only added to the sultry atmosphere. 
Some smoke lingered in the air, making everything a bit more hazy. He recognized the scent as a popular aphrodisiac often used during parties with high nobility. His shadows seemed lulled by the music, drifting around him lazily as he stood in place. 
He stood frozen as she finally turned around and met his gaze. He had thought her beautiful that day he had seen her up on the balcony, but this close, well… beautiful was not strong enough of a word. She looked crafted for the Gods, a being not meant to walk alongside man. His breath was sucked right out of his lungs again, his eyes widened as his shadows reacted by lowering themselves onto the ground, leaving him bare. 
“There you are,” she purred, her voice as smooth as silk and honey. “I’ve heard you’ve been waiting for me.”
Azriel swallowed harshly, his throat bobbing with the motion. He watched her eyes track it, watched how her smirk slipped into a soft smile instead. He opened his mouth to speak, to say anything, but it was like no thoughts existed in his head except for an image of her. 
“A bit shy, are you?” She teased after he failed to speak, walking towards him and holding out a hand with well manicured nails. “That’s okay, my love, let me take care of you.” 
She grasped his hand in her much smaller one, not even flinching when her skin met contact with his brutal scars. He let her guide him to the couch and push him to sit, entranced by her very presence. She moved to the bar cart behind him, running a delicate hand over his shoulders as she did, before pouring two glasses of whiskey. 
She meandered back over to him, plopping on the couch next to him before handing him one of the glasses. She clinked her glass against his. “For the nerves, my love.”
Azriel wanted to tell her that he wasn’t nervous, but that would be a lie. He had no idea why he had been reduced to the shy teenage boy he had been in his youth but he couldn’t shake himself from the feeling. Her presence was overwhelming, intimidating. Like she somehow held his entire being in the palm of her hands. 
“Thank you,” he grunted out, his voice rough. He cleared his throat before downing his glass of whiskey in one go. She followed his lead, her smoky eyes never leaving his as she swallowed her whiskey. Beneath the exaggerated desire he found in them was a more calculating look, like she was trying to figure him out. 
A bit of the whiskey slipped out of the side of her mouth, dripping down her chin and neck to the crevice between her breasts. Azriel’s gaze followed it, his cock tightening in his pants as he wished to lick it off her gleaming skin. 
“Oops,” she giggled, swiping it up with a finger and sucking it into her mouth. “Would you like another glass?” 
He shook his head. He didn’t want to be drunk for this. He wanted to savor every second of his time with her, the girl who had been plaguing his thoughts night and day. 
“You seem tense, Shadowsinger,” she purred with a pout, making his eyes dip to her full, red painted lips. “I can fix that.” 
She reached forward and ran a slender hand up his chest and he nearly moaned at the feeling of her touching him. His hand latched onto hers, stopping it in its tracks. 
“What’s your name?” Azriel asked, finally speaking. He needed to know. Needed to taste the way it felt to say it on his tongue as much as he needed to taste her. 
“Serenity,” she replied with a coy smile. “But you can call me anything you like, my love.” 
His eyes searched hers. “That’s not your real name, is it?” 
“Of course not, darling,” she giggled. She leaned towards him, close enough that her breath fluttered over his ear. His cock twitched in his pants, his skin heated. “I think the real question is, what would you like me to call you, Shadowsinger?”
“Azriel,” he breathed out. “Just…just Azriel.” 
“Azriel,” she repeated in that voice of silk and honey. 
His eyes darted down to her lips again. He couldn’t help it, couldn’t help how turned on he felt. Was it the aphrodisiacs in the room? Or perhaps the whiskey had hit just right? He didn’t care. All he knew was he needed to have her. 
Azriel let go of her hand, letting her continue her travel up his chest until she grabbed the empty glass in his hand and set it down on the table in front of them. She made eye contact with him again, slowly moving to straddle him on the couch, wrapping her arms around his neck lightly. He bit back a groan as her weight fell on his hardening member.
“What is it you’re here for, Azriel?”
His brain couldn’t focus with her in his lap. Her eyes were so mesmerizing, her scent one he could get high off. His hands found her waist, the silk fabric of her nightgown so smooth against his rough skin. 
“You,” he whispered, honestly. Because that was the truth. He had seen her and knew he needed to have her. 
“I’m yours, Azriel,” she giggled. “Any way you want me.” 
If he were a better male, perhaps now would be the time he realized this might be a mistake. But he wasn’t a better male. He couldn’t be. Not when her body was pressed against his, not when she looked so beautiful staring up at him with her large, expressive eyes, and certainly not when his body was singing for her—hungering for her like she was the only sustenance he needed. 
So Azriel surged forward and kissed her. 
Lightning exploded, skittering over his skin, the moment his lips touched hers. He groaned at the feeling of their softness. She let out a small sigh as she kissed him back, melting in his lap, pressing herself closer to him. 
Azriel slid a hand up her exposed back until he grasped her by the back of the neck and tilted her head so he could deepen the kiss, finally taking control of the situation. His cock hardened painfully as she spread her legs further, allowing her heat to rub against him. 
He kissed her like a starved male, licking along her bottom lip, compelling her to part her lips for him. She let him consume her, let him slip his tongue into her mouth and taste her fully. 
So sweet. 
So divine. 
Azriel broke the kiss, letting her gasp for air. The scent of her arousal had his eyes rolling back in his head. Still holding her by the back of the neck, he twisted her head to the side and pressed his lips just below her ear before trailing down her jaw and to her delicate neck. 
She moaned, squirming in his lap and rubbing against his hard length, only spurring him on more. His other hand started working on unlacing her nightgown. His fingers fumbled over the ribbon, until finally, it came undone and fell, pooling at her waist. 
Azriel pulled back to look at her, now bare before him from the waist up. Her chest was rising and falling rapidly with her breathing, her eyes dilated and full of lust, her lips swollen. The perfect image of desire. 
“So beautiful,” he growled, before leaning forward and latching his mouth around her right nipple. She gasped, arching into his mouth as her hands fisted his hair. 
“Azriel,” she whimpered, pushing her hips down against his bulge. He growled again, thrusting his hips up to meet hers. 
His lips made a path back up to hers, taking her breasts in his palms as he kissed her deeply. She grinded down on his cock again, pulling a whine from the back of his throat that had her smiling against his lips. 
He wanted to take his time with her, wanting to draw this out as long as he could. But he knew he wouldn’t last. Not when the need to be in her was causing him to strain against his pants to the point of pain. 
Azriel stood, lifting her up with him with an arm under her ass and the other wrapped around her. He let his shadows swarm them, stepping out right in front of the bed. She was breathless as he dropped her onto the soft pillows and sheets, her hair fanning around her head like a halo. 
An Angel. 
That’s what she was. 
A godsdamn Angel. 
He couldn’t keep his hands off of her, running them down her body as he pulled her nightgown all the way off, leaving her entirely bare before her. She moved to sit up, reaching for the buttons of his shirt but he lightly grasped her throat in his hand and pushed her back down.
“How do you want me, Azriel?” She hummed, seductively, wrapping her hands around his wrist.
Azriel leaned down, running his nose along the column of her throat until his mouth was beside her ear. 
“First, I want you coming on my fingers,” he commanded, his voice husky with desire. “Then my tongue. And then my cock. Do you understand?”
She swallowed audibly, nodding her head. 
“Words, angel,” he smirked. “Use your words.” 
“Yes, Azriel, I understand,” she whimpered, the scent of her arousal peaking. 
He inhaled deeply before pulling away and dropping to his knees before her. She sat up on her elbows, letting out a small cry as he hooked his arms around her thighs and yanked her towards the end of the bed. 
Her sex was glistening with her want and Azriel groaned at the sight, unlacing his pants with one hand to relieve some pressure. He watched her as he dipped forward and ran his tongue up her slit, his eyes rolling back at the sweet taste of her. 
She tossed her head back with a moan, spreading her legs wider for him. Azriel didn’t waste any time. He sucked and licked at her clit with a hunger he’d never felt before, his cock twitching every time he drew out a moan or cry from her lips. 
True to his word, his finger swirled around her entrance, causing her hips to thrust closer and closer. He continued his ministrations as he slid a single finger inside of her, cursing as he felt how tight she was wrapped around him. 
“Azriel,” she cried out as he added a second finger before slowly thrusting in and out of her. “Fuck.” 
He continued to suck that spot that had her crying out, pure waves of euphoria crashing through her body. His fingers began to thrust inside of her faster and faster as her moans became more frequent.
“That’s it, angel,” he praised as she rutted against his fingers. “Fuck yourself with my fingers.” 
She whimpered, her movements frenzied as he latched his mouth back on her clit, sucking in rhythm with his fingers. One of her hands gripped his hair while the other fisted the sheets and she squirmed in pleasure until he pushed her over the edge. 
“Az…Azriel,” she cried, arching her back as flames licked their way through her body. “I’m gonna—”
Azriel didn’t stop, palming himself with his free hand as she orgasmed, pulsating around his fingers with a loud moan. He slipped his fingers out and replaced them with his tongue just in time to feel the aftershock ripple through her. 
She tried to pull his head away, but he didn’t relent. He needed her on his tongue, needed to fulfill the hunger inside of him. It wasn’t long before he had her screaming through her second orgasm, lapping at the wetness pooling between her thighs. Azriel didn’t let up as he rode out her orgasm with his tongue, not until her body was writhing in pleasure and she was begging him to stop. 
He stood, sticking one of the fingers covered in her juices into his mouth, eyes rolling back in his head as he groaned. “Gods, you taste so good.” 
He left her panting on the bed as he made quick work of ripping his clothes off. His eyes were black with lust, his shadows spilling all around him in his craze. Gods, he needed her so bad. Every piece of her. 
He climbed onto the bed, hovering over her and crashing his lips against hers. His tongue was still claiming her mouth as her hands roamed the muscles of his chest, sliding down to his cock. He groaned into her mouth as she ran her hand up and down his shaft. 
“Please,” she begged. 
“Please what, angel?” He nipped at her bottom lip. “What is it you want?” 
“Please fuck me, Azriel,” she whined. 
The noise that came out of his throat at her words was one he’d never made before. He sat back on his haunches, replacing her hand with his as he guided himself towards her entrance, rubbing up and down against the wetness that was waiting for him. 
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he slid himself inside of her slowly. She moaned as Azriel let out an animalistic growl at the feeling of her wrapped around him. It wasn’t until he was all the way in her when they both finally released a breath.
“Fuck,” he grunted, falling forward and peppering kisses along her throat. “You feel so good.”
She whimpered at his praise and felt him smirk against her neck before he started to finally move, pulling himself all the way out her before thrusting back in, faster this time. She cried out as he slammed into her.
Azriel set a punishing pace, thrusting into her again and again. His shadows seeped from him until nearly every crevice of the room was taken over by his darkness. 
Her nails raked down his back, between his wings as she let him take her. He claimed her mouth again, passionately swallowing each moan he pulled from her. Her hips began to meet his with each thrust, pushing him deeper and deeper inside of her. 
“Gods, Azriel,” she cried, squeezing around him as he hit that sweet spot inside her. 
“Are you going to come on my cock, angel?” he cooed. 
“Yes,” she mewled. “Yes, gods, yes.” 
“Good girl,” he growled, nipping at her throat with his canines. 
His words pushed her over the edge into the hot bliss of pleasure. She screamed his name as the lightning shot through her, her core pulsating with each strike.
“Fuck,” Azriel groaned. He rode out her orgasm and then his thrusts became harder, faster but sloppy with no rhythm as his own release slid up on him.
His tongue swirled around the base of her neck before an utterly feral growl ripped through him. And then he bit down on that spot. His canines ripped through the skin, sinking down into her flesh as he came, thrusting once, twice and one final time—burying himself in her. 
They both panted in silence for a moment, coming down from their highs before Azriel slowly slipped out of her with a small whimper. He pulled away from her and she smiled up at him, her eyes glazed with pleasure and satisfaction. 
And then something happened. Something he never thought would. Something he had only dreamed about but never wished for because he had thought it a waste of breath. 
A golden string of light unwound itself and shot across the darkness, all the way to the beautiful girl before him. 
The mating bond snapped. 
His mating bond.
Azriel let out a choked noise, rising fully. He stumbled back in shock, his eyes wide as he stared down at her. Her brows furrowed in confusion and she sat up. 
Fuck, his mate…
She was his mate.
His godsdamn mate. 
This couldn’t be happening. Not like this. Not after he had just paid her to have sex with him. Not after he had come here for a shameless fuck. She’d never want him now. Why would she? 
He hastily began picking up his discarded clothes and dressing himself. She did the same in her confusion, slipping her nightgown back on as she frowned at him. 
“What happened?” Her voice was meek as she hugged an arm around herself, looking at him. “Have I…have I done something wrong?”
“N-no,” he stuttered, not looking her in the eyes. Gods, she would hate him if he told her now. She would not want anything to do with him. “No, I’m sorry. I-I need to go.” 
“But you paid for the whole night,” she said, perplexed with a hint of insecurity. “Please, if I wasn’t good…if you didn’t enjoy it…I can do better, I swear it.” 
He finally looked at her, at his mate. His heart sank in his chest at her words. Fuck, he was making this worse. He couldn’t stand the sight of her looking at him like she’d done something wrong. She was perfect. She had been perfect. It was him who fucked up.
“No, no, don’t. It’s not you," Azriel tried to reassure her. “I…it’s me. I need to go. I’m so sorry.” 
“At least let me get you your money back,” she said, rubbing her arm. He felt sick to his stomach.
“No! No, please keep it,” he murmured, buttoning up his shirt as fast as he could. “I’m…I’m so sorry. This was a mistake.”
And then he disappeared in his shadows, her confused and hurt face the last thing he saw. 
─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───
a/n: so obvious this was entirely from Az's perspective but it will be reader y/n just in case it wasn't super obvious! Hope you guys enjoyed it! If you asked to be tagged but don't see your username, it wouldn't let me tag you for some reason :((
(also, now that the whole chapters out, if this isn't what you thought you were signing up for, no hard feelings if you asked to be removed from the taglist)
taglist: @itsswritten @impossibelle @lilah-asteria @heartless-tate @sheblogs @jesskidding3 @landofpetrichor @thecollegecowgirl @5onedirection5 @cherry-cin @fayeatheart @brieflyclassymortal @saltedcoffeescotch @glitterypirateduck @eyebagsanonymous @chxosangxl @daardyrnitta
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hanaonesflower · 1 month
Text
“let me do this for you.”
“let me get that for you.”
“don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.”
when nanami was around, it was like being watched by a hawk. not in a bad way of course, just not a way you're probably used to. he is always on it, taking care of everything from beginning to end, hell bent on you not ever lifting a finger and actually bar you from doing it, even behind his back.
"seriously, kento, I can do it myself!"
"absolutely not, you worked all day, when you come home, I take care of you."
you try to bargain, dishing out facts that he, too, has a full time job that usually pushes him to the brink of exhaustion that he may or may not recover from, yet, here he is, elbows deep in dough, insistent on making pasta from scratch. according to a recipe that you may have briefly mentioned weeks ago that you wanted to try.
you tried to pick up the knife and dice the tomatoes or turn on the stove, he shoos you away.
"this is getting out of control, kento."
"you can help me by taking a nice warm long bath, honey."
nanami knows what he's doing, the majority of the time. but will he ever express that he fumbles from time to time? never. not that his ego is inflated, but because he has prided himself for being to care for you boundlessly.
so when you leave the bath and find kento with his hand in a bucket of ice water, you realize something have gone south in the kitchen.
"kento! what happened?!"
"nothing to worry about my l-"
"enough! tell me, now."
your stern voice and attitude stun him, he's never seen you like this before. his behavior is downright concerning, he hasn't always been this way though. sure, he loves by serving, but he isn't always this stubborn or ridiculously protective. you have always cooked together, why would it be different this time, or the last few times within the past couple of months. nanami isn't unreasonable, but he can be if something pricked at his pride.
"I may have burned myself with the hot steam."
"may have? your skin is having a terrible reaction! for a smart man you can be so clumsy sometimes."
"it's not that bad."
you glare.
"okay, it's pretty burnt and it hurts."
"I bet it does."
you slowly pull his hand out from the ice bucket and lead him to the kitchen table and command him to sit still when you fetch the first aid. his palm is raw from the burn and his face twists in pain when you apply some pressure.
there isn't much conversation exchanged between you and him, but something is definitely hanging above your heads. kento seems to be closed off to it, but you're willing to get to the root of things.
"you haven't been yourself lately."
silence.
"I feel like this is not just about providing for me, something happened, and it affected you."
kento looks saddened by this. you are spot on. something did happen.
a few months ago, during a dinner party amongst friends, kento found himself begrudgingly involved in unpleasant conversations with his colleagues, the way they audaciously questioned his ability to care for his partner when he was always away on work trips or spending extra time at work. he took it to heart, kento questioned himself. he realized, that even though his colleagues were terribly annoying and invasive, they made some considerable points. he made the executive decision to fully take over, spinning a complete 180 on you. at first you thought it was sweet, until it became authoritarian.
"that's really how you feel?"
"have I been absent to you, y/n?"
you contemplate for a while, you truly wish he is around more, but you always understand the nature of his job.
"I do wish I can see you more often, when you had that 2-week long vacation, I was able to spend such amazing quality time with you, and it was awesome, but I also understand how your job is. I didn't want to come in between that."
"so I have been absent." he moaned defeatedly.
"please don't blame it on yourself like this, it's not healthy, I still love you, kento."
"this is all my fault, y/n, I should have been there for you more."
truthfully, you wish he was, but once again, you are both stuck between a rock and a hard place.
"have you been doing all this to somehow compensate?"
"is it working?"
he is trying to humor you, although at quite a horrid time, you still crack a smile.
"I think it's very kind of you."
he sighs.
"please, forgive me, my love. I became what you called a workaholic, I tried to get more hours to provide for you, only to come short in other aspects."
"I'm not an unemployed housewife, kento."
“this isn’t my way of saying that you are incapacitated in any way, i just wish that you didn’t have to worry about anything,” he groaned from the incessant gnawing of the antiseptic on his burnt wound.
“kento, this is a partnership, you’re not my servant and i’m not a spoiled brat,” he felt a little silly, nanami knew this fact yet he felt impotent in this sense. he opened and closed his lips, hoping to get his point across even further but nothing seemed good enough at theis point, he’s done fighting.
“whatever you’re going to say, it’s not going to change the fact that i love you,” you silence him.
“then can i say that i love you, too?”
“that, you can.”
⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧ ︵‿⭒ཐིཋྀ ཐིཋྀ⭒‿︵ ‧˚⭒ ⭒˚‧
note: PHEEeewww… it’s really good to be back :33 this piece shall be the redebut as it is one of my cuter fics. going back with smut pieces after such a long hiatus didn’t feel right so – soft nanami is always the way to go!! more content will be coming soon (smut included >.>), stay tuned ( ˘ ³˘)
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awniie · 4 months
Text
AT LEAST LOOK AT ME WHEN YOU LIE
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ᣞ ⊹ ݁ summary: your boyfriend suguru finds the best way to punish you !!
꒰ content: mean!sugu, fem!reader, pussyslapping, praise/degradiation, cum denial, feel like this whole thing is kinda a niche kink
ㅤㅤㅤ⭑ notes: my ‘mean suguru’ drabble was based on this so if some stuff sounds familiar it’s cus i took this n drabble-fied it; also this is for the anon who asked for it <33 ALSO @d0nk3y-k0ng my new-found geto fixation is your fault <33
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“Suguru, can you help me?…this thing is too heavy!” you called out, voice straining as you struggled to bring the giant cardboard box through the door. It was way too heavy for you, and of course the delivery people had quickly set it outside the door, escaping the potential work of having to bring it inside. Your boyfriend quickly rushed to your aid, grabbing the opposite side of the box. “I got it baby, where did you wanna put it again?” Suguru asked, setting the box against the wall and looking at you.
“I wanted to put it in the living room. That way it’ll be the most accessible.” You told him. You two hand just moved into your new place and decorating was the sole thing on your mind. You spent hours on pinterest, trying to find the perfect aesthetic for your new home. You valued your home,so much so that you started repeating all those cringey aphorisms whenever you were questioned about your new-found obsession.
“Home is where the heart is, sugu.” You told him. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Okay, but what does that anything to do with spending $100 on a house plant?” You let out a sheepish laugh. “Well…I can take care of the plant. Which takes heart…?” You murmured. It was an inane suggestion, which was appropriate for the circumstance of spending $100 on a plant. “Sounds a bunch of bullshit to me.” Your boyfriend told you. He was necessarily happy with all the money being spent on what seemed like superficial things, he seemed to be happy with the results of your decorating.
It took about 30 minutes to situate this new mirror, but for good reasons. It was big, like really big. Leaning, it was taller than you and almost as tall as your 6’3 boyfriend. It was wide as well, providing a perfect view of anyone who looked into it. It was a gorgeous peice of furniture. The frame was a creamy white, with ornate molding. There were carefully crafted swirls and curves on it, with tiny clay embellishment. It had looked like something out of a fairytale, like a mirror that could reveal the deepest desires of whoever dared look inside. It was perfect for your new house, the only thing that wasn’t so perfect was the extravagant price. Your jaw almost dropped when you saw the cost. No way in hell would Suguru let you buy it, no matter how much you beg or how many tears you spill.
So you searched for alternatives. Any sort of duplicate or listing on another site would be scouted out and search throughly before you succumb your wallet to $2,500. You must’ve been god-kissed that day, as the only cheaper listing was $1,700. Still, it wasn’t something you felt 100% sure about buying, but what other options were there? Suguru would be proud of you for finding a cheaper offering and thinking about a budget. So, you went ahead and bought it, feeling pretty proud of yourself for doing so. Did you tell Suguru about the purchase? no way. You’d only tell him if he asked, and you prayed with all your heart that he wouldn’t.
“Sooo…do you like it?” you asked him hopefully. Maybe he would say yes and then move on to something else, and not ask that dreadful question. Maybe, when you told him about the bargain you made, he’d be proud of you for your efforts. “Mhmmm, t’s real pretty.” He put his hand on his chin, as if thinking. “How much did we pay for this again?” Suguru asks, stepping back and giving it an appraisal.
Shit. It was silent for a good 10 seconds. You could feel the way your words dried up on your tongue and died, as if they were too scared to come up. He raised an eyebrow and asks again, looking at you through the reflection of the mirror. “How much did we pay for this thing?” Stil not answer. He came up behind you, snaking one arm around your waist, while his open hand went to your chin. “Baby, you gon’ answer me?” His ghostly purple eyes searing yours through that cursed mirror.
“I-I just forgot to tell you-…!” you whined, legs buckling as you felt another sharp stinging sensation land on puffy clit.
“Oh, you did?” Suguru asked facetiously. You nod and cry as you feel another slap land on your clit. He then grabs your face with his hands, holding your cheeks between his slick-coated fingers. “At least look at me when you lie, baby.” He said as he guided your face in the mirror.
This was humiliating. He had you spread out on the floor, pussy glistening and your back pressed up against his chest. He had took upon himself to punish you, which subsequently turned into something lewd and twisted. Hence the being sprawled out, leggings and panties long discarded and receiving countless slaps on your cunt. It was painfully obvious that he was hard, feeling his length that was being squashed up against your ass. Your hair was messy and out of place, your skin sticky while drool and tears coated your chin. The worst part? He was doing this right infront of the new mirror and he wouldn’t even let you look away, so you were forced to fully embrace your current state.
“Please sugu. I didn’t mean too…just lemme cum please? You begged, your voice shaky and full of hiccups.
“Noo, only good girls get to cum .” He cooed, his finger playing with your little bundle of nerves. You’d been at this for about an hour now. He’d start to finger your cunt, and then he’d hit it as punishment. The closest you’ve been to finishing was the half-broken orgasm you’d stolen from his fingering, which in return you got another slap.
“Could’ve been done a long time ago. You’re making this so difficult for me baby.” He whispered in your ear, as if this hurt him more than it did you. “So now, are you gonna tell me the truth, or are you gonna keep lying to me? Cus’ trust me, I won’t hesitate to hit this pussy again” He threatened, the hand on your sticky clit moving even more slowly as an incentive.
You meant to shake your head, but when he swiftly plunged his fingers into your weeping cunt, the sloppy sounds of your slick, must’ve drowned out whatever of your senses was left. “y-yes…!”
You saw the gleam of that dangerous smile in the mirrors reflection. “I knew you would. Such a smart girl, yeah?”
Then your boyfriend laughed, a soft and smooth laugh that should not have gone down to your lower stomach with molten delicious heat. Could you blame yourself though? His fingers were pumping in-and-out of you with tantalizing proficiency, making your insides do somersaults. The way that syrupy-sweet praises dripped off his tongue alongside bitter jeers. Your brain was too far fucked out for so many conflicting emotions. “Go on now..say what you needa say to me.”
“m’ sorry for spending your money sugu! I shouldn’t have bought it, should’ve a-asked!” You confessed, buckling you hips in tandem with his fingers. “Ah ah…no moving.” He reprimanded, taking those fingers out and slapping your hole again. Your body jolted at the sudden sting and then slumped back against his chest.
“Look at you, all teary eyed and wet-pussied. You like this shit, don’t yeah?” He catchesized, with that stupid-stupid smirk on his face. “I bet you’re not sorry at all.”
“No-yes-no m’ sorry..! M’ really really sorry! ” You could barely understand what he was saying. Your pleasure was the only thing that mattered right now, all other senses finger-fucking out of you a long time ago. Geto loved you like this though. Fucked dumb and too far down the abyss of your own pleasure to think properly, all inhibitions lost. It was the easiest way to get an answer out of you.
“I think you bought this mirror just for yourself. Just so you could watch yourself get fucked? He guessed, dragging his hands across your quivering thighs. You hated how soft his voice sounded, especially when accusing you. whimpered as he did, wishing he’d just hurry and put you out of your misery. “N-no”
he frowned, stopping his hand in its tracks. He brought his lips close to shell of you ear, sending shivers down your spine and more wetness to your cunt. “Look at me, and don’t lie.”
You looked at him, straight through the mirror. “I promise, i didn't sugu. I just wanted our home to look nice!” you confessed, sniffling and squeezing your thighs together to create some sort of friction for your achey pussy.
Suguru felt his heart melt a little. You were so pitiful with your shaky mewls and whines . He couldn't help but feel a little bad for being so mean to his precious girl. He shouldn't punish you too hard, obviously you didn't know much better. “Aww..look at that face. How could I be so mean?” He told you, trailing that finger up on down your slit. He smiled at how you hips yet again bucked at his wandering digits. “So needy. Poor baby, drooling n’ crying just like this pussy. Guess I should give you what you want, yeah?”
“Mh! Yes sugu, please lemme cum now! I’m so sorry, won’t do this ever again.” You begged. At this point you were full on crying, all other senses overrides by your need to cum. His thick fingertip teased your sopping entrance, re-coating the fingers in cum.
He simply laughed, diving those fingers back into your pulsing heat. “Oh, I know baby. I know. Now watch me as I give this pussy just what she needs.”
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tarjapearce · 10 months
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PLEASE MORE RANCHERO MIGUEL
👀👀 of course.
Inspired by farevalee9s on insta fanart of Cowboy Miguel 🤭
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The first time Miguel arrived to your family's farm, you were borderline intimidated by his sheer size. You had seen tall people before, but never someone like him.
Your father was in dire need of someone that would take care of his horses and do some maintenance around the farm. Agustín, a horse that seemed a lost cause, was the one that concerned your dad the most. He was a bit aggressive with the other horses, Joaquín Y Luis. He was kept in a different location. The farm was a mess.
Not tolerating a bit ounce of further embarrassment, your mother looked up for people, even put you to post adds through, but none of them actually met the requirements, until a friend of your dad brought him.
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"Buenos días, señorita" (Morning, ma'am)
He'd always greet you with a tip of his hat. Unlike your parents, a bit stuck up people, devoted believers and servers of faith, and always speaking the necessary, you were kind to him. Polite and respectful.
You'd bring him cold fresh lemonade after he was done with his training session with Agustín. The sun would hide your embarrassment, since you couldn't help but give subtle glances at his naked torso.
He'd always train the horse, without much on him. Pants, belt, boots and hat. He'd always accept the lemonade with a small smirk and a grateful heart.
"You made it?" You nodded and smiled sheepishly.
"Best thing I've ever tasted." He'd mumble while staring intensely at you.
-----
"Could you teach me how to ride?"
His eyebrows would rise in surprise
"H-Horses, I mean." He'd chuckle and nodded.
"Lo que quieras, guapa ." (Anything for you, gorgeous.)
Sure, you wanted to ride horses, what would the point of having them would be if you couldn't ride them? But in truth, You just wanted to be closer to him. Something that earned you a bit more than you had actually bargained for.
He'd take you by your waist and help you get on Luis, like you weighed nothing. His skin irradiating with heat, calloused hands held you firmly, you could feel his thumb taking a taste of your soft skin. His tongue wetted his lips upon his eyes trailing your form.
Sun blazing on your skin, rosy cheeks, a sweet look that could disarm anyone, gorgeous body. You were such a sweet little thing. Just like the cherries you'd eat in the porch. He stared at your lips, as you dexterously peeled the cherry from it's flesh with your tongue.
He needed to have you.
-------
Of course your mother had seen the not too subtle looks you gave eachother.
He'd always greet you with a knowing smile, and you'd be a flustered mess after. Sometimes your head would hurt by the many times your mother would swat your head with whatever she was choosing to read. Your dad was busy with Church.
Oh, the church.
He didn't seem like a strong believer, neither did you, but respected the business enough to be almost every Sunday in church. Just to see you all dolled up and pretty.
-----
You'd kiss eachother breathless in the barn behind some stacked up hay. You just tasted as sweet as he had imagined. Your first kiss.
You had to be on your tip toes to wrap your arms around him and pulling him down to deepen the kiss as his hands finally were able to touch you and savour you
-----
Your mother was growing suspicious of your sudden absentminded behavior, so she had settled you up a date, and made sure for him to know. Even had the nerve to ask him to have the horses ready.
You had apologized to him, but he seemed unbothered by everything. It kinda bummed you to see him a bit indifferent to the situation. But once you left, he'd glare holes at your mother's window.
"No te dejes montar de nadie, ok? " (Don't let anyone to ride you)
Agustín would just flare and pat the ground. As if understanding him.
------
Every date your mother had arranged to you, ended up in the same scenario. Your dates on the floor, being chased by Agustín or the other horses.
"I don't know what that wicked man has done to the horses. None wants to come here anymore if he isn't around!"
To your mother's mortify, you were turning older enough to start your own family. But you didn't want none of that. No. At least you'd have some time away before she started to getting you on the dating scene again, to get you a husband.
They had a sudden trip to see other properties out of town. You were left alone with Miguel, He'd throw you over his shoulder like nothing, after kissing the daylights out of you and took you inside his place in the barn. Your cherry was popped that night.
-----
Ever since then, every time your parents left, you'd be holed up in your room with him, kissing, making love and talking.
You had corrupted him somehow, always wanting to touch and be near around you, and always wanting to put a baby inside.
"Funny you think I'd let you marry some other guy. Tú eres mía, y eso no se discute." (You're mine, and that's not up to discussion.)
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atsuwumus · 4 months
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.
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๋࣭⭑ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : who sees the human face correctly — the photographer, the mirror or the painter? dr ratio had always had an obsession with pretty things. so when you seek his guidance for one of your artistic pieces you find yourself in for more than you bargained for.
๋࣭⭑ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : mature content, minors dni 18+ only. dom! dr ratio x fem! reader, teasing, fingering, objectification if u really squint hard enough. p-paint play??? I wrote this with my coochie okay ʕ•͡-•ʔ
๋࣭⭑ 𝐌𝐀𝐈 𝐌𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 : nobody perceive me after writing this (๑﹏๑//) rlly messy one but wanted to get something out tonight on the new bloggie :3
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"𝐌𝐘, 𝐌𝐘, 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 aren't you a pretty sight."
His voice is low and as smooth as velvet, vibrating off the walls of the empty display room and shaking you right to your core. His voice shouldn't have such an affect on you, but it creeps into your veins like a slow acting poison, tainting your thoughts from the inside out.
For weeks now you've tried to get his attention, ready to beg on hands and knees for just a slither of recognition. You see, your artwork hasn't always made the biggest impact. Many found it rather mundane and boring.
One failed exhibition after the next had led you to seek out the only person you knew would have the answers you so desperately sought, the only person who would either see your vision through strokes of paint and blurred lines — or who would be able to tell you to give it all up for good.
A shaky breath leaves your chest when the door clicks closed behind him.
Another leaves your lips when the slow and purposeful stride of his feet draw closer.
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Rows upon rows of paintings of the finest details line the walls on either side of him but all he seems to be focused on is you.
Delicate strokes of paint stain your skin, spanning from one naked hip to the next. Swirls of green and blue meet in an intricate dance across your nipples and span to intertwine around your neck, a true display of intricacies and colors. You're bare to him, attesting to the advice he had given you with a shrug of his shoulder weeks ago.
"And what is this supposed to be?" he drawls, his voice coming from behind you. It takes every last ounce of your strength to scrape together enough willpower to remain still where you are, plastered on the small pedestal for him to see.
You inhale, exhale. Count to three and back again before you speak.
"You said I needed to be braver with my art," you say yet your voice still shakes. "That I needed to start taking more risks. This is me taking that risk."
An understanding hum vibrates low in his chest, a pleasant sound that eases some of the tension in your shoulders. But the closer he gets, the more he inspects, the hungrier his gaze gets. A calloused fingertip runs from the blade of your shoulder down to your hip. He taps his chin, feigning to be deep in thought.
"Risqué," he murmurs. "But not quite complete. Not to my liking."
Curiosity burns in your gaze as your eyes follow each shift and shrink of his body, watching avidly as he picks up a tube of paint, squeezing some red ink onto his fingertips. There's a half smile tugging at the corner of his lips — one that you aren't sure is entirely there — before he lets his fingers dip against your skin.
You gasp.
The paint is chillier than you expected against your heated skin as he draws long, precise lines along and around your breasts. He takes his time, idly moving his digits back and forth, keeping his gaze trained on the way the red brings your skin to life. A low chuckle follows when he runs his inked fingertips across your pert nipples, ensuring to outline them properly with thick layers of paint. Once satisfied does he pick up a deep mauve, smearing it across your abdomen, sinking lower and lower until you finally let out a whimper.
It's only when he sets the tube of paint down that he says, "Do not for a second think that I don't see you rubbing those thighs of yours together. Did no one ever tell you to not disturb the artwork?"
It should be embarrassing for you — how debauched you look right now, on the brink of being ruined, letting him paint, prod and process whoever he pleased, without any objection. You bite down on your bottom lip, pursing them together when you catch a flicker of his gaze — warm and wanting, like a predator ready to sink its teeth into his prey.
It's a weak protest but you let out a small, "Dr. —"
"Be quiet."
You swallow your words with a thick throat, chest heaving as he steps closer to you, right between your thighs, ever so slowly tilting his chin up to meet your gaze as he cleans his fingers off with a damp cloth.
"I believe I told you to bare a side of yours to me that I haven't seen before in your art," he drags out, letting his fingers smooth over your hips and thighs, admiring his work like a proud master. "But I never expected this from you. Tell me, have you put on a show like this for anyone else before?"
"N-No." You shudder with a shake of your head.
His lips curl into what you could only presume to be a satisfied smirk. "Good. It would be such a shame if I had to share something from my private gallery from the rest of the world."
His hands are definitive in the way he touches you, without hesitation or uncertainty, but with the elegance of a painter, parting your thighs with ease and running two fingers between your puffy lips, smirking when he realizes how wet you truly are.
"This is almost pathetic," he muses, continue to collect your wetness in between his fingers and using it to circle your clit a few times, always coming close enough to give you a taste of what you craved, but never indulging you. "How desperate you are for some attention. I almost pity you."
He gives your clit a smack with the palm of his hand, a deep chuckle bubbling in his throat when you yelp.
"Almost."
"P-Please." You almost don't recognize your own voice, how each syllable is painted with desperation. How your thighs shake with anticipation and you continuously clench around nothing each time he circles your entrance.
"Shhh," he chides, his voice sweet like honey but his eyes told you a different story. "I'm determined to enjoy the entire gallery. And I don't like being disturbed or disrupted. It takes away my focus."
He tilts his head up to look at you. "Do you understand?"
Your bottom lip wobbles a little when he slides two slender digits between your folds, curling them with ease and stroking along your soft walls until he heard you whine. "I do, I do!" you nod along feverishly, ready to beg and plead at this point — anything just for him to give you what you want.
"Good... Something tells me I'm going to be enjoying this spectacle tonight."
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saerins · 8 months
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𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆
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+ nagi seishiro x f!reader | wc 2.4k | content: fluff, high school setting!, some cursing
notes: this was something requested by an anon !! i realised this prompt was also done in my other fic whole except nagi was the second lead :’) also pleaseeeee excuse me if this is ass because i haven’t written in a long time T_T but i’m working on getting back properly !! <3
summary: he didn’t ask you out because he wanted to, yet nagi gets more than he bargained for in the end.
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“so, um, nagi, why’d you ask me out all of a sudden?”
it’s kind of an awkward situation to be in, you think, as you look around the arcade, shuffling your feet beside where nagi’s seated, trying to win some tickets from what you can only assume to be a music machine.
when he’d asked you out on a date yesterday, you didn’t think he’d take you to an arcade, of all places. (then again, nagi asking anyone out is sort of unbelievable, honestly.) if you knew sooner (or if nagi had bothered to tell you), you wouldn’t have worn such a nice dress for today.
besides, you’re not even sure why you’d agreed. call your state half-flustered or whatever, because you heard that nagi seishiro of all people does not bother with human relationships much. you’ve only ever seen him interact with mikage reo anyway—and you’d just chalked it up to him wanting it that way. nagi had never shown interest in girls or romance or that kind of shit, so cue your surprise when he asked you out yesterday, when he saw you at the bus stop.
“hey, wanna go on a date tomorrow?”
you blinked at him, utterly surprised because that was the first time that nagi had ever spoken to you.
“um, where to?” (you were still malfunctioning over the fact that he was asking you out on a date.)
nagi scratched the back of his head, and you could faintly make out reo a few ways behind him, watching on.
“hmm, not sure, i’ll text you tomorrow morning?” he suggested, pulling out his phone. “what’s your number?”
okay sure, you could’ve asked for more details, but it was hard getting nagi to respond to you at all. you’re pretty sure he was gaming, that’s why.
“oh, ‘cause reo asked me to.”
that… was not the answer you were expecting. “reo asked you to?”
nagi has a bad habit of not elaborating. you don’t really like that, because you don’t like asking questions, but you can’t help yourself now. this is too bizarre for you to let go.
“yeah, something about how he’s sick of me playing games all day long, told me to go get a date, then he’d return me my switch,” nagi mumbles, and you can’t help but think that reo’s plan may have backfired, considering how he’s on a date and still playing games.
while nagi’s grey eyes are focused on the screen in front of him, you find yourself drawn to the way he’s sucking in his cheek as he concentrates, the way his bangs fall over his eyes and how his fingers can respond so quickly to the lines on the screen.
“you’re pretty good at this,” you tell him, getting lost in how well he’s playing. the points on the screen gets so high he’s almost nearing the high score.
for a moment, nagi’s distracted by how close you are to him; your hair smells like citrus and it’s really smooth. it’s also the only time anyone other than reo has been this close and you’re not anyone so he doesn’t really see why you’re able to steal his focus from the game.
someone like you shouldn’t make him notice things that aren’t about games or himself.
but you do—and he misses the first note since the start of the game, though he recovers fairly easily.
he doesn’t know much about you, only that you’re in his class and you’re very pretty (now that he’s actually looking at you). you have a really cute laugh too, he realises, right when he wins the game and probably what’s a thousand tickets, with you rejoicing happily beside him.
“oh my god, you’re so fucking good at this,” you’re jumping and giggly and nothing like how quiet you are in school and why does he feel a little giddy knowing that he’s getting to see this firsthand? this doesn’t make sense. “okay, move aside, teach me, i wanna do it too.”
nagi obliges. it’s a pain having to teach someone else compared to doing it himself, he gets to know, as you miss probably half the notes on screen even when he tries to tell you how to do it. hell, he’s not really a good teacher.
you win about 300 tickets.
“not bad for a rookie,” nagi comments as you grab your own pile and stack it in your shared basket. the neon red and blue flashes pretty against your skin. it makes you even prettier, he feels.
you raise a brow. “nagi seishiro, wanna play a bet?”
no, not really. but somehow, he can’t quite turn down a game when it’s from you.
“what’re you betting?”
you hold out the basket in front of you. “i’m gonna find a game where i can beat you.” your chest is puffed out, like you’re determined, like you really believe you can. “if i lose, you can decide my punishment.”
nagi blinks at you. you’re… weird. you make his heart beat faster than usual. it’s a little concerning. “and if you win?”
grinning, you wink at him, “let’s leave that to later.”
whatever possessed him to spend the entire day following you around the arcade and watching you fail, he doesn’t know. you’re pretty bad at everything compared to him, but it’s not really fair—he’s probably spent ten times as much of his days in the arcade than you.
have you ever even set foot in here before?
nagi observes as you try desperately to beat him in ddr. you fail, naturally. your feet coordination really isn’t that good, but it’s pretty cute how hard you’re trying. you’re still pretty even at the end of it, even when you’re sweating and some of your hair is matted against your skin. he keeps that to himself though.
throughout the entire day, nagi finds himself entertained by your persistent insistence to beat him at something. it’s funny how you’re awful at the arcade games. it’s also funny how you’re honestly trying. it’s really no use but here you are, sweating once again from shooting hoops.
your 64 versus nagi’s 154.
“wow, you’re really bad at all these games,” nagi murmurs when he sees your score. “wanna go somewhere else?”
you’re quick to open your mouth but it takes you just as quick to shut it, probably knowing you’ll never beat him. at least, not today. “fine, you win,” you say through gritted teeth. you’re a little prideful; nagi’s learning a lot about you. “what do you want?”
nagi seems to have forgotten your earlier bet. he just shrugs and tells you to choose what you want at the exchange counter.
“you don’t want anything?”
nagi looks at the prizes with such disinterest it makes you wonder what can interest a guy like him. he shakes his head, “i can get anything i want anytime anyway.”
(the underlying insinuation that coming to the arcade with him is your only chance to win prizes flies right over your head.)
but when nagi looks at your slightly disappointed face, he tries to backtrack. “i’ll let you know when i think of something i want since i won,” he says, looking away from you. “but you choose one of the prizes today.”
turns out it’s so easy to please you. just like that and that smile is back on your face.
you choose a big goddamn pink teddy bear by the way. nagi sighs as he leaves the arcade with you. it’s probably a character nagi doesn’t know. he’s judging you, but then you hug it and smile at him and he forgets what he’s thinking about.
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“i know this was only because reo asked you to, but…” you mumble after you and nagi both finished eating dinner, sitting across from each other at the ramen shop. “it was fun.”
nagi’s not sure what this is. just a customary thing where you’re showing appreciation for the time you two spent together today? you’re looking away from him though, he’s pretty sure normal customs don’t dictate that. he’s pretty sure you’re supposed to look at him when you say that.
“why’re you looking away?”
you look at him in blank shock (an expression that he doesn’t know how to process—what’s so weird about asking you that?) before you smile helplessly. “you’re very weird, nagi seishiro.”
“what do you mean?” nagi’s clueless, in that nagi seishiro way only he can be.
a few seconds of silence pass when you try to make up your mind. it’s unnerving how big and wide his eyes are, especially when they’re focused only on you and nothing else. in the end, you manage with a shake of your head.
“it’s nothing,” you decide. telling him of your possible crush on him would not do any good, you guess.
something bugs nagi; he can’t understand what it is. he just knows something feels off but it’s not like he’s ever felt this particular kind of irk—he doesn’t know what to do.
when the time comes to leave the restaurant, nagi finds himself walking the opposite way to his home because you started walking first.
somehow, his feet follows you.
it’s stupid—walking this far away from the direction of his home is troublesome. it’ll be a hassle to get home when his bus is on the other side of the long gone restaurant. why is he walking you to the train station again when he’ll just see you next week anyway? you’re in the same class.
“oh, are you gonna take the train too?”
nagi blinks at you, drawing a blank at your question. he must’ve completely zoned out. did the both of you get here in complete silence?
“no,” he answers honestly. he doesn’t elaborate. as usual.
by now, that doesn’t surprise you. instead you just nod your head, a hesitance borne in the shuffling of your feet. “well,” you drawl out, dragging the syllable, somehow hoping this wasn’t the end of the night but it is. “this was a nice one-time date,” you settle for, smiling. you’re about to just say goodbye, but you bite on your bottom lip, contemplating, before you slip his phone out of his hand and slide the screen to the side, taking a picture of the both of you together, nagi looking at the screen in surprise and you winking beside him.
when you hand it back to him, you bite your inner mouth, trying not to grin. “in case reo asks for evidence,” you offer as an excuse. you totally didn’t want to take a picture with nagi. “he better give you your game back!”
nagi gets this fleeting feeling that he doesn’t know how to explain when he sees you smiling at him. like how you remind him of the color gray. not because it’s bland but because it’s his favourite color. you remind him of spring and the cool breeze and how refreshing it feels.
“it was a nice one-time date, nagi seishiro,” you chuckle before you turn around, ready to head into the station and probably never spend such time with nagi again. you’ll probably get over the sadness of what could’ve been pretty quickly. you think.
but just before you can enter, you hear the firm steadiness in nagi’s voice. “no.”
you whip your head around, not quite sure you heard him right. “no?” you narrow your stare a little, moving out of other people’s way as they push past you into the station. “as in, you didn’t like it?”
you hope he doesn’t mean it like that.
nagi looks away, earnestly processing it. it came blurting out of him, he didn’t even know what he said until he said it. “i won the bet and what i want is… this. again. with you.”
the implications of his words slowly sink in and it has you feeling giddy. nagi, the guy who barely cares about anything nor makes the time for anyone—is he actually telling you this? is he really saying he’d take you out more?
meanwhile, nagi’s feet stay firmly planted where he is, wondering why you make him feel like this, why you make him feel like he can’t get enough. you’re just… you. before today, he could honestly say you were insignificant. but just the way you are; how you speak, your smile, your laugh and your resilience—nagi likes it, finds comfort in it, somehow.
“then,” you say as you enter the station, face giddy with the excitement of something new blossoming. “i’ll wait for more dates with you, sei.”
the way you call him that makes his heart skip a beat and he’s left blankly staring at your figure as you retreat into the station, stealing his heart with you.
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“fine, fine,” reo sighs. it’s two days later on a monday and reo grudgingly gives nagi back his switch. “so, what’d you two do anyway?” he asks, shifting his gaze between nagi and you, though you’re at the other end of the classroom, talking excitedly to your friends.
nagi’s attention quickly transfers to his switch, already opening up a game to play. “nothing much,” is all he offers, and reo’s beginning to think maybe it was more of a punishment for you than a date.
reo sighs again, ready to lecture nagi for being the worst date ever when he pulls up his phone to look at the time. but he accidentally takes nagi’s phone instead, unlocking it to find his own chat thread—to which nagi doesn’t even bother saving his name (reo side eyes him but nagi doesn’t even realise).
that doesn’t surprise him, but what does is when reo realises your contact is saved—with the icon being a picture of the two of you together. you must really be something to be able to make nagi do something so idiotic like this.
“oi, nagi.”
nagi only responds with a raise of his brow. he’s still clicking away at the controls. reo guesses it must be a racing game from those sounds.
“if you guys get married i better be the best man for being your matchmaker,” reo teases, his grin filling his face.
even though nagi doesn’t respond, the champagne pink that brushes across his cheeks is enough indication to reo of nagi’s feelings for you.
looks like he never needed to worry after all.
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2K notes · View notes
vxnuslogy · 2 months
Text
— a reason. ft aventurine
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— warnings: slight cursing and violence and spoilers for the new hsr quest
— author's note: this is very long and very much a giant word vomit. first work in hsr is aventurine, i fear favoritism is real.
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‘everything happens for a reason.’
aventurine has never felt so sick and tired of that phrase. something about it makes his fists clench from beneath the table and stomach flip and twist uncomfortably from within.
if everything happens for a reason, then what was the reason behind his clan’s massacre? what was the reason for the stirring in his guts whenever he looked in the mirror? what was the reason behind all of his fortune now turned to misfortune?
aventurine hated not knowing the reason.
“and this pretty thing,” jade motioned towards you by her side. standing motionless, back straight and all. “is [name]. be sure to play nice, aventurine.”
what was the reason behind your new recruitment? better yet, why were you placed as his new assistant? the last time aventurine checked, he was doing perfectly fine. steadily climbing up his rank with his risky gambles and bargaining skills. he couldn't wrap his head around it so he just sighed and accepted it.
“thank you for always looking after me, jade.” his voice carried evident sarcasm but the woman only smiled and pushed you towards his direction. he had to physically stop himself from recoiling from the action and gave you a smile.
“it's a pleasure to meet you, [name].” he held his hand out for you to take. you were hesitating, aventurine noticed. but after a few seconds you slowly slid your hand into his and gave it a firm shake. “the pleasure is all mine, mr. aventurine.”
the blonde man held onto your hand for a moment longer before slipping it away and tucking it behind his back. he surveyed your form making you want to squirm under such a gaze, and he noticed.
“let's be good friends.”
working with aventurine was strange, not that you didn't expect it. you spent the past six months running around the IPC from one office to another carrying mountains of papers and constantly picking up calls from the communication device in your ear. other times, you'll be out and about trailing aventurine like a lost duckling when you need to accompany him to missions that require him to be physically present.
honestly, working for the stoneheart will eventually give you an early death from a heart attack. not only is his risky gambling habits very concerning, his way of speaking wasn't exactly everyone's cup of tea. more often than not you’re needed to play as a peacemaker, the middle ground of negotiations to prevent any physical fights from starting.
but it wasn't as bad as you'd assume. you clock in around 9 in the morning and clock out at 5 in the afternoon. sometimes if certain tasks require you for overtime, you'll clock out at around 8 or 9 at night max. all the work aventurine assigns to you aren't all that difficult to handle as well. just simple reports that need to be proofread so he won't have to read over them multiple times, scheduling interviews, picking up calls and informing him of his new missions, and if the situation calls for it, you play as a spy to gather information.
overall aventurine was a good boss.
today was like any other tuesday morning. you clock in just before 9, get your coffee and another cup for your boss, pick up the last reports from the strategic investment department, and then make your way into aventurine’s office to brief him on his schedule.
his office was on the fancier ends, no surprise there as he was one of the ten stonehearts. your shoes clicking when they met the marbled floors, your eyes skimmed through the reports, trying to guess which proposal will be approved or disapproved. when you reached a familiar door, you fixed your hair and readjusted the insignia pinned to your vest. an aventurine stone, just like your boss.
you knock thrice -short, short and long- before you hear a muffled voice tell you to come in.
“good morning, mr. aventurine.” you greet with a slight bow as normal. “as punctual as ever, [name].” raising your head you nod towards topaz’s direction in acknowledgment before making your way to his desk. “here are all the reports from the last mission. i’ve read through all of them and made sure everything is in order.” placing the papers on the table, he dropped the ones in his current hand before taking the new ones, all the while, you place down his coffee which he gladly took.
“you aren't overworking them, have you, aventurine?” topaz inquired, crossing both her arms over her chest. “what kind of boss do you take me for friend? a bad one? i can assure you my assistant is in good hands.” the blonde man chipped in, his fingers flipping from one page to another as you busied yourself trying to organize the scattered reports on his table. feeling topaz's gaze, you give her a slight smile and nod, confirming that aventurine is in fact, was a good boss.
she just sighed and shook her head. motioning for you to come over, you look to aventurine who gave you a nod in turn. you walked towards topaz -feeling the searing stare of aventurine burn through the back of your head- as she took out a flash drive and handed it to you.
“this is the recording of the last meeting in regards to the mission you're tasked with. since you were still in pier port, we started without you.”
“how cruel of you, to start such an important meeting without even waiting for me.”
ah yes, the pier port incident. you smiled wearily as your shoulder slumped when you remembered what happened. you shake your head in amusement of the memory.
“thank you topaz,” you break the silence, like you always do. “i’ll be sure to look over it today.” she smiled at you in appreciation before turning her back on you and waving goodbye.
“well, that was all i came for. catch you two later.”
once the door clicked shut and the sounds of footsteps getting fainter and fainter, you took it as a sign to turn back to your boss who was already looking at you.
“is something the matter, sir?” you ask. he took off his glasses with a hum and turned his attention back to the papers he was reading. “be sure to give me a summarized report of the meeting before you go home.” you nod and take a seat on the couch in his office and boot up the laptop on the coffee table. you've always wondered when it suddenly appeared in his office, you were 98% sure it wasn't there when you first started working but aventurine always said that's it been there the entire time.
you shake the thought out of your mind and shift into work mode. hours seem to pass by in the blink of an eye before you heard aventurine call out to you. “i’m sorry mr. aventurine, i'm afraid i didn't hear you.” you heard him sigh and repeat his question. “i said, why did you join the IPC? actually, no, that's not what i want to know.”
when you looked up from the laptop in front of you, your boss had taken a seat across from you. you felt your heart thumping in nervousness.
“what exactly did you do to pique jade’s interest?”
frozen. you felt frozen on your spot. fingers stopping midway from pressing onto the keys. those beautiful eyes you've slowly grown accustomed to seeing unfiltered from his glasses, they make your heart and pulse beat in an unfamiliar rhythm.
“i come from a well-off family.” you start, suddenly feeling conscious of your background. “my parents have worked closely with the stonehearts, i suppose miss jade wanted to continue the diplomatic relationship between my family and the IPC.”
“is that the reason why you're here now?”
you simply nod even though you weren't so sure if that really was the reason.
“let me ask you another question.”
letting out a startled noise when the laptop in your lap suddenly close with a gloved hand sitting on top of it, you stare at aventurine's purple eyes that had rings of teal, something so uniquely him that you couldn't help but get lost in them. he took the laptop from your grasp and set it on the coffee table as he leaned both his arms on his legs.
“do you like working under me?”
the question caught you off guard and it showed with how the corner of aventurine’s mouth twitched up into a smirk. hiding behind a closed fist and clearing your throat, you pray that your voice wouldn't waver as you answer.
“i do.” you peaked towards his directions and he didn't seem satisfied with your answer so you list out all the reasons why you like working with him. “despite your… questionable habits, i’ve come to grow used to them as time goes on.” a fond smile made its way to your lips when you dug around your mind trying to find your memories that had aventurine in them, only to realize that he was in all of them.
“i’ve come to enjoy all your little shenanigans in missions.”
“i'll have you know, calling your boss’ plans “shenanigans” could lead to your bonus being cut by a few percent.” he huffed like a child as he decided to just sit back and cross his arms over his chest and raise his chin at you. you chuckle at the action and continue.
“ever since i was a child, i have always wanted to travel the cosmos. but since i’m the only child to my mother and father, my childhood, teenage years, and now adulthood is centered around business and trade. going out on missions with you to different planets, they heal that little part of me that wished to travel.”
“but sometimes, i truly believe that you want me to die from a heart attack.” you hear him snicker from under his breath as he fixes the watch on his wrist. “i know that as a gambler taking risks is just a part of it but aeons, do they scare me to death sometimes.”
“if i knew you cared about me so much, maybe i would tone it down a bit!” there was a playful undertone to his voice as he talked to you. you let out a laugh and shake your head. “no offense sir, but i sincerely doubt that.”
“you wouldn't be the boss i've grown accustomed to if you didn't do your risky gambles.”
something flickered in aventurine's eyes, you were sure of it. but before you could find out what it was he suddenly stood up, putting on his usual glasses and giving you a closed eyed smile.
“well, that was all what i wanted to ask you.” you wanted to ask something in return, but you never had the chance to even get a word out when he was already halfway out the door. “be sure to finish that summary before the day ends. leave it at my desk as usual.”
and just like that, the office door clicked shut.
“if i told you the reason, that'd be the same as revealing a trade secret.”
aventurine remembered jade's word. how could he not when they repeated in his mind like a broken record.
after he left his office, it felt like he suddenly went back in time. it just had been roughly a month after you were given the position as his assistant and aventurine wasted no moment at the end of that friday afternoon to dash in jade's office and ask her the question: why were you his assistant.
aventurine scoffed at jade's response while she only smiled. clicking his tongue in annoyance as the woman led him in circles when he kept asking. what was the reason? was it that hard to answer?
the next few days weren't necessarily the best. he was like a walking ticking time bomb, ready to blow up at any second. everyone in the IPC kept their distance from him -not like they didn't keep their distance to begin with, some started whispering among the hallways about his potential termination after a very big gamble he almost, almost, lost. what ticked him off the most, was you.
he felt so frustrated at you because why were you so damn perceptive. those past few days, the papers that were messily and hastily thrown on the giant table in his office were suddenly organized into neat piles, all held together with different colored paperclips and a sticky note of when each pile was due to be submitted. how every morning you wouldn't fail to knock thrice at his door -short, short and long- at exactly 3 minutes before 9 in the morning with two cups of coffee in your hands. or the times where you would take one good look at him and start lighting up the candles in his office that you started buying for him because you noticed he'd be slightly less stressed when the room didn't smell like fear and insecurity.
what he hated the most was even after his little temper tantrum the past few days began to subdue, you still continued your almost doting actions towards him.
when did he start anticipating your methodical knocks 3 minutes before 9? when did he suddenly grow disappointed whenever someone knocked on his door and it wasn't you? topaz had suddenly grown confused when he suddenly came into the meeting room with a cup of coffee in his hand and when she asked about it he would simply say, “well, my darling assistant bought it for me!”. the multiple scented candles in his office that burned too quickly so at the end of every month he'd have you go out and buy some more.
when did he start using his left hand -the hand he left bare from rings, the same hand that shook in fear of losing- to guide the small of your back away from the crowd whenever you would accompany him to missions?
when did he start taking off the glasses that hid the eyes he wanted to sell to someone else?
it was so confusing yet so simple at the same time. aventurine had grown fond of his little assistant. he has grown fond of you. and that was all there is to it. after all, why would he go out of his way to get that customized brooch that you wear every single day when you come to work if he hadn't. how his chest would swell with pride whenever you spoke with higher positioned officers in the IPC and how they would avert their gaze because of the pin on your vest.
and he knows that you know of his sudden change in demeanor. you just never say a word for his sake. how he went from being a distant and acquainted boss to a friend. an actual friend. and that was supposed to be it. he did say in your first meeting that you should be good friends, but how was he supposed to keep his words after the little stunt you pulled at pier port?
it was a simple mission, negotiate and get the upper hand, nothing more and certainly nothing less. like any other mission, he was accompanied by you and some other people under the IPC. everything was going smoothly until one of them just had to open their mouth and talk shit about his already dreadful past just because he had forgotten to put on his glasses. he truly has grown a bit too comfortable with you around, and he didn't like it.
“what's a sigonian scum like you doing in the IPC? why don't you crawl back into the hole you came from?”
he just sighed. shaking his head, hiding his left hand behind his back, shielding it away from everyone's gaze as it shook with anger, disgust, and the tantalizing question of why.
why did he have to go through this?
and then you did something out of the ordinary.
the sweet assistant of aventurine suddenly pulled out the gun situated on your hip and pointed it directly to the man’s forehead, a deathly glimmer shining in your eyes as your index threateningly ghosted over the trigger.
“if you do not take back what you said just now, i won't hesitate to put a bullet or two in that empty skull of yours.”
then you started walking, and he started backing up. you didn't stop until the man was standing on the edge of the port, one simple push and he'd be drowned in the vast icy oceans. that is, if he wasn't already drowning in the fury of your eyes.
aventurine felt his body move in instinct. his left hand holding your wrist and slowly putting it down at your side. he gave a half assed apology about your behavior and ushered you to your original destination. this time, he kept his hand on your back, specifically near the gun on your hips to make sure you didn't point it at someone else.
“do they always speak to you that way?” you ask barely above whisper. eyes strained one the road you were walking one while his bore into your very being. “i’ve grown used to it. be sure to not point that gun of yours to any potential partners, m’kay?” to prove his point, he tapped the gun on your hips with his finger and you just sighed. a simple yes stumbling past your lips before being enveloped by silence.
aventurine was sure. he was very, very, sure that was the last nail in the coffin, and the answer to the question he's been asking.
the entire day, you stuck by his side. glued to the fucking hip and no one dared to utter a single word about him. the meeting went smoothly and when everyone was preparing to go home, he called you over and said:
“that stunt you pulled earlier, stays between us, alright, friend?”
and you simply nod in understanding.
you carry your bags onto the ship to take you back home only to be taken aback when aventurine comes to steal it away from your hands. “take it as thanks for earlier.” he remembered that look of shock before it turned into something else -what it was he didn't know because you turned away before he could even fathom what of it made his stomach do flips.
even when he came to drop off your things at your personal room, he found himself lingering by the door. watching you unpack your things as he stood idly. you would eventually turn to him and ask if he needed anything more, and out of curiosity he asked: “why did you point your gun at that man?” he will never forget the look of puzzlement on your face when he asked.
“because he said something unpleasant to you. as your assistant, i can't allow others to simply trample on your name.”
he spent the night staring up at the ceiling while laying on his bed. your words mingling in with jade's in his mind, trying to fit the two like puzzle pieces to ease the racing of his heart and uneasiness of his mind. he didn't like assuming things. a conjecture such as this would cost him too much, but tonight he indulged himself in the thought.
picking up his phone and messaging jade, he laid his forearm over his eyes and sighed.
“this room smells horrible…” he muttered. the strong scent of chlorine made his mind spin. making him miss the scented candles you had slowly but surely placed inside his office. he'd grown so fond of them that he'd bought some of his own to place around his home. “ah… i think i'm screwed.”
it has been approximately 3 system hours since you arrived in penacony, and roughly a few system hours before aventurine's eventual demise.
topaz had just finished speaking with the trailblazer and their companions. when they had left you stood next to her and stared at the giant prison turned hotel.
“you… don't seem too worried.” topaz said, you felt her gaze but you didn't turn to look at her, instead you just gazed into nothing. “it would be a lie if i said i wasn't worried.” you were most definitely worried, terrified even. no matter how many times aventurine does his high risk gambles, you will never get used to it, not when it causes ghostly hands to squeeze at your heart at the sheer thought of him losing. the thought of losing him.
“but i trust miss jade's judgment. i trust aventurine.”
roughly a day before his departure to penacony, curiosity got the best of you and you stuck around the meeting room in secret when aventurine stayed behind.
“what can i do for you, aventurine?” jade's voice slightly echoed in the empty room. your hands slightly shook in fear of being caught, but you were just so curious about what has been going on with your boss that you couldn't fight the urge to eavesdrop a bit. “oh nothing much. i take it you received my message?” you assumed the woman nodded because aventurine continued. “i must admit, your little plan worked. but is it really necessary?”
jade stood up from her seat, her heels clicked on the marble floor and aventurine followed her until they were by the door.
“well, it's better to stay safe than sorry. and besides, this doesn't count as a complaint, right?”
you heard him chuckle. somehow, even though you hid behind a pillar you felt his stare bore into your being. you could almost imagine those purple eyes that had rings of teal in them that made you weak in the knees.
“no, not necessarily. i could never consider it as a complaint.” he took a moment before asking another question. “but i want to hear it from you, friend. why did you assign [name] as my assistant?”
“it's rather simple really,” jade replied. “you need a reason to leave penacony alive, no? i simply made it easier for you.”
you? the reason for aventurine's will to live? it seemed rather silly. how you, a simple assistant, be so much of importance to someone like aventurine, but with how topaz came to hold the hand that gripped the brooch he had given you, you thought otherwise.
this half a year you've been working with him, you like to think that you've gotten to know him very well.
how when you stood beside him as he sat himself in another gamble, he would always lay his left hand on his lap, fingers curled into fists so tight you were afraid his palms were bleeding.
how he always hid his “weaker” hand behind his back in dire situations to hide his fear.
or when he would always take off his glasses in his office whenever you were there. and that laptop you were 98% sure wasn't there when you started working? aventurine apparently got it specifically for you so you could work in his office.
but what you were most sure of was:
“aventurine doesn't make deals he knows he won't benefit from. he'll win, he always does. he'll come back, i know it.”
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
1K notes · View notes
theemporium · 2 months
Note
I am in the mood for some SugarDaddy! Seb that’s all fluffy ❤️ please and thank you!!! 🙏🏻
thank you for requesting!🫶🏽
.
“Sebastian.”
The boy glared at you from the other side of the counter. 
“I said I was sorry,” you tried again, crossing your arms over your chest in an attempt to look a little more controlled. But in all honesty, the argument had been going on since you stepped into his apartment and you weren’t sure how much longer your patience could handle it.
Yet, Sebastian remained silent and stubborn. 
“It was just a coffee,” you groaned, your eyes darting over to the stupid cup that had essentially caused the tiff between you two.
“An outrageously priced coffee,” Sebastian corrected, something in his tone making you stand a little straighter in your sport. “One that you paid for with your own card.”
You sighed. “Seb—”
But the boy shut you down with a pointed look. 
The whole thing was utterly ridiculous. You had just finished running the few errands you needed to tick off on your day off before you headed to Sebastian’s apartment on the fancier side of town. You thought you would be sweet, stop by one of your favourite bakeries on this side of town and maybe get Sebastian something too.
You didn’t think it was that big of a deal that you instinctively reached for your own card instead of the one he had given you. And yet, here you were, still arguing over it almost twenty minutes later.
“It’s not that big of a deal,” you said to your boyfriend but his frown deepened.
“It’s a big deal to me, schatz,” Sebastian replied, a crease between his furrowed brows that you just wanted to smooth out with your thumb. 
You rounded the counter, leaving your coffees and the sweet treats you bought on the other side as you stepped into Sebastian’s space. Despite his annoyance, he wasted no time in opening his arms for you and letting you settle against him as you wound your arms around his waist. 
“I’m sorry,” you said again, though it was a little softer and less brattish this time around. “You know I didn’t do it on purpose to spite you or anything. It was a simple accident.” 
Sebastian hummed, pressing his lips together.
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll even let you buy me some outrageously expensive gift and I promise I won’t even complain about how many zeroes are on the end of it,” you bargained with a hopeful smile on your face.
You watched his expression closely as a slow grin began to spread across his face before he leaned down to kiss you. 
“Deal,” he murmured between soft pecks, but his quick acceptance made you pull back and narrow your eyes in suspicion.
“You weren’t pissed at all, were you?” You accused, watching his expression fill with glee. He wasn’t even ashamed of his tactics. “This was your plan all along, huh?”
“And now you can’t take it back,” he retorted, leaning down to kiss you again. “You just have to sit there and look pretty whilst I choose what yacht to get you.” 
“Sebastian!”
“Kidding. I am actually thinking about a helicopter—”
“Oh my god.”
.
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bandgie · 3 months
Text
Who Dun It?
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
warnings! MDNI18+, fingering!!, (rough/soft) clitplay!!!, poly!skz, 4/8skz, hyung-line, slight mindbreak/subspace, super slight PIV
synopsis: After vowing to find the stranger who was tragically ripped away from you that unfortunate night, your simple plan turns messy when eight men claim to be the one you're looking for. Seven are surely lying, but what's the harm in indulging in all of them?
2.9k words
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The cushions of the couch mold the shape of your body as you sit upon it. You find yourself picking at the loose strings anxiously, staring at the eight men who argue amongst themselves.
"He's lying!" It's Hyunjin who's shouting, a finger pointing at his younger frat brother. "He wasn't even there that night! He told me he had an essay due and couldn't come!"
Seungmin, as stoic as ever, rolls his eyes. "I finished early. I said that, like, 10 times. Are you stupid or something?"
It looks like Hyunjin might burst a vein from his neck, but Chan, the president of the frat, places a hand on Hyunjin's slender shoulder. "I don't think yelling will get us anywhere. Seungmin was there; He was fashionable late." He flashes a dimpled smile at you. "But you don't need to worry about who was there and who wasn't, baby, it was me."
Minho scoffs, "As if last I recall, you were too busy getting plastered to remember how to even finger someone."
You shift in your seat, drawing the attention of Felix who glances at you. He eyes you for a moment before wearing a look of sympathy on his face. "You don't have to stay here if you don't want to," his deep voice rings in your ear throughout the commotion. "I know the boys can be a little much," Felix gives a friendly smile. "We can always pick up where we left off next time." He finishes with a wink.
There's hardly any time to respond when Changbin loudly shouts, "Yah! Yongbok is cheating! He's putting fake memories in her head!"
Felix quickly puts his hands up in defense, "I was just saying she can leave if she feels uncomfortable. You guys aren't even letting her talk." Upon hearing his words, all the men quiet their bickering and finally give attention to you. All of a sudden, you rather liked it when they didn't have their focus on you.
"Are you? Uncomfortable I mean," Jisung frowns.
You shake your head, "No! No, I'm just nervous, I guess. I didn't think you guys would get so worked up over this. I thought one person would say it was them. Not...all of you."
This makes Chan laugh, crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Yeah, well, you got more than you bargained for." A few of the men chuckle. "What do you think we should do then?"
"Me?" You point at yourself. 
It's Jisung that speaks, "Duuhh, you. You're the one who came here asking for your fingering prince. It's only fair you make the rules."
You can feel your face heat up at Jisung's joke, but he's right. The eight of them can argue all they want, but it's you who has the reins. One by one, you scan them. There are only vague memories from that night, and you can hardly tell who it might be just by looking at them. 
And it's then that an idea pops into your head. 
"I don't think I can make a decision just by looking at you guys," you admit. "I think it's better to replicate what happened."
"Replicate?" Jeongin raises an eyebrow and looks amongst his older frat brothers. "What do you mean?"
A sly smile makes its way on your already blushing face, "I think you know what I mean."
-
It makes sense to go from oldest to youngest. 
Chan did the honors of getting you nude waist-down despite Jisung's complaining. You spread your legs, placing your heels on the edge of the cushions with your back flushed against the couch. It's intimidating to see their eyes on you, traveling to your exposed cunt to your embarrassed expression. 
"You don't have to be shy baby," Chan smoothes his hand over your thigh. "Got such a pretty pussy. You should show it off all the time."
He laughs at your whine, finding his place beside you as he looks down at your nakedness. Chan hums, fingers traveling lower before going towards your knee again. You appreciate how he works you up. How he takes his time to make sure your hips try to maneuver for his hand to brush against your folds. 
Chan is experienced, that's for sure. Even if you can already tell he's not the one from that night, you don't dare tell him. It feels too good to stop what he's started.
"What do you think baby, hm?" He looks at you. "Is this enough to admit it was me? Or do you need a little more?"
You nod, "I think I need a little more." Spreading your legs as further instruction, you gasp when Chan finally makes contact with your heat. He smiles at your slack jaw, opting to kiss your neck and rub soft circles on your clit.
"Feels good, huh?" He mumbles in your ear. "Just tell them it was me, baby. We both know how badly you want to finish." 
It's true, you do want to finish. It's why your hips have picked themselves up from the couch and started rutting against his hand. Chan lets your wet folds run over the ridges of his fingers, pressing down more forcefully to add pressure. 
"Hey, you can't cum that quick!" Changbin protests against your arrival. "Just hurry up and say if it was him or not!"
You keep quiet, save for the breathy moans and hard breathing. If you do tell the truth, Chan will stop on the brink of your orgasm. But if you lie, everything will come to a stop.
"It's...it's," you shamelessly try to hump his hand, but the impatient look on the seven other guys makes you confess. "It's not."
There's a part of you that thinks Chan might keep going and just let you finish, but he pulls his hand away from you instead. His body completely withdraws from your own as he tuts, shaking his head. "Should've just lied. I would've let you cum as many times as you wanted."
You watch as he puts his soiled fingers in your mouth to suck on, earning a moan from your lips. 
Minho takes a different approach, opting to kneel before your spread legs and place his soft hands on the inner of your thighs. His sly eyes look up to your aroused ones as he smiles, "I'll be honest, it wasn't me. But you'll let me play with your pussy anyway, right?"
"No, she won't!" Hyunjin pouts, "You're wasting time! Shoo!"
While Hyunjin's long limbs flail in protest, you keep your attention on Minho. His tongue swipes over his bottom lip, waiting for your response. Minho's warm breath sends chills when it comes into contact with your skin, and you find yourself nodding as you grip the undersides of your thighs.
He giggles, "Good girl."
You expect to feel his hot mouth, but you're surprised when he moves his hand to quickly rub against your clit. The sound of your wet folds reverberates throughout the apartment. Your clit is far too sensitive to be played so roughly with, but the sensation brings you back to the edge once more. 
Minho watches as your back arches off the couch, how you've thrown your head completely back in pure ecstasy. He leans down to peck the top of your pelvis, a contrast to his relentless rhythm. 
"I'm gonna cum," you whine. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna cum."
Minho smiles, "All over my fingers huh? Little pussy can't handle all this, can she?" He slows his past momentarily to move his other hand towards your entrance, dripping a finger into your pulsing walls. The combination of the rubbing and thrusting has you trembling, hips bucking wildly until Chan has to hold the top of your shoulders from behind to keep you still.
"Stay still baby, you're moving so much." 
"So good," you look up at Chan. "Can't stop."
Chan watches as your face contorts into pleasure. Blinding heat fills your stomach and floods your pussy. You distantly hear Minho and a few of the other guys gasp when you cum. Arousal drips down Minho's wrist, pouring out from where his finger is inside. 
Finally, you pick your head up to look at the mess, surprised to see Changbin striding to where Minho sits. 
"Move move move! It's Binnie's turn!"
You whine when Minho removes his finger, but judging from the look on his face, he isn't too happy about it either. "Impatient ass," he sneers at Changbin, standing up. "I just started."
Changbin doesn't respond, too preoccupied with finding his place between your legs and tapping his cock on your swollen lips. 
You gasp, looking down to see the heaviness between his legs, standing unashamed and proud. 
"Gross dude!" Jeongin scrunches his nose in disgust. "Pull your pants up. I can see your ass hanging out."
Hyunjin and Seungmin laugh, but Changbin pays no mind. You've been told he has a hard time concentrating on more than one thing at once, but you didn't think he would zone in on you so quickly.
"Let me put it in," Changbin begs, rubbing the head of his cock up and down your slit. "It'll just be the tip, I promise."
You're just about to agree before you remember why you're here. How would you know if Changbin is the one if he doesn't use his fingers? You bite your lower lip, looking between his short fingers to his chubby cock. 
"Binnie..." you pout at him. "Those aren't the rules."
He whines, humping his hips quicker as if it could change your mind. "Pleeease! Just one time, let me put it in one time and-"
"Bin," Chan's authoritative voice comes from above you. You feel him tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, reassuring. "Gotta listen to the boss here man."
Changbin looks dejected as his lower lips jut out, but he withdraws his throbbing erection obediently. His solemn expression fills you with pity and you wrap your legs around his waist to keep him from leaving. 
"Let's make a little deal, yeah? Tell me the truth if it was you at the party, and I'll let you put the tip in. Okay?"
His eyes lit up a little too quickly, and you repeat yourself. "Just the tip, okay? Only the tip."
"He's not gonna listen," Seungmin shakes his head. "He only thinks with the head between his legs."
The jab has Changbin frowning again, but you tighten your grip around his waist for encouragement. "No, Binnie's a good boy. You'll listen to me, won't you?" Changbin nods, still looking somewhat sulky as he repeats, "Binnie's a good boy." This has you smiling, settling further into the comfortable couch. "I know. So tell me, Binnie, was it you?"
"Yes!"
"Fucking liar," Seungmin swears. "He's full of bullshit."
"Yeah, he's lying!" Hyunjin joins in. "It was me!"
Seungmin moves his cold stare to the taller man, "Why are you so persistent? It was not you." Hyunjin looks like he's about to argue again, but Jisung beats him to it, "Fuck you guys both! It's me!"
You have to tune out their arguing, looking at Changbin who behaves suspiciously. He has a ghost of a smirk on his lips, his eyes can't maintain eye contact longer than two seconds. The cherry on top is his blushing face, red with guilt.
"Binnieee," you drawl. "Are you lying to me?"
With eyebrows raised, you watch as his small smile falls. His lips pucker into something like a scowl, but he looks hopeful. Stupidly hopeful. Changbin shrugs and finally meets your eyes, "Maybe, but that doesn't matter!" 
You frown, "You lied to me- oh-" Changbin cuts you off by dipping the fat head of his cock into your entrance. It's so warm, so thick that your cunt wraps around it snugly almost immediately. He rolls his hips to thrust shallowly, feeling your walls try to suck him in deeper. 
"That's...That's cheating," you manage to say. 
Changbin smiles, pulling his head out to slap it on your clit. "It feels good though." 
He places his hand on the base of his cock to aim at your pussy, this time with no scolding from you. Before his tip has the chance to sink back into your heat, Hyunjin yanks him by the shoulder. 
"Ya! What are you-"
"You broke the rules," Hyunjin reminds him. "You don't get a turn."
"But she-"
Minho looks rather pleased as he drags the sulky Changbin away from you, mostly likely happy he got his revenge. Though you wave Changbin a pitiful goodbye, your body begins to vibrate with excitement at the arrival of Hyunjin. As beautiful as all the men are, Hyunjin seems to match the brief descriptions you have of your mystery man that night. Long fingers, long hair, and a height that seems to fit. 
Hyunjin takes his place next to you, smiling innocently to where you can see his dumpling cheeks and crescent eyes. "How are you doing, beautiful?"
The attention makes you blush, shyly hiding behind your hair as you answer, "I-I'm fine. I...I really wanna cum."
"Again?" He laughs, "You're barely halfway there, you know?" Despite Hyunjin's teasing, his hand travels down your inner thigh to your soaked folds. You gasp at the contact, looking down at his slender fingers rubbing you in circles. 
"Mmm, that feels good," you sigh.
Though you aren't looking, Hyunjin beams at the compliment. "Good huh? How about familiar? Does it feel like that too?"
To that, you aren't too sure. Hyunjin is gentle, reassuring, and caring. Even as his digits travel lower to plunge into your cunt, it's still different from the night before. The mystery man was rougher, demanding. Telling you to spread your legs rather than the gentle voice Hyunjin uses. 
"Just like that, pretty," Hyunjin whispers in your ear. "Such a good angel for me." Two of his fingers easily slide in and out of you, making you clench and writhe on the couch. His other hand palms his erection at the sight of you and the sound of your moans. 
You can feel the men staring at the two of you. Changbin and Jisung have their cock out, stroking at the same face that Hyunjin finger fucks you. Felix seems eager to shove a hand down his pants, but his concentration is glued to your exposed cunt. Minho is whispering something to Jeongin who also can't take his eyes off you, nodding mindlessly to whatever his hung tells him. Chan's heavy hand pats the top of your head, comforting and somewhat wholesome. 
"So," Seungmin crosses his arms against his chest, ignoring the raging boner in his pants. "Hurry up and say it's not him."
This makes you shake your head, content with finishing your second orgasm on Hyunjin's hand. His palm slaps against your cunt, briefly coming into contact with your clit. It's so good, so good that you might lie and say it was Hyunjin that night. 
"Don't stop," you whine, pleading with Hyunjin. 
He leans down and places a chaste kiss on your lips. His lips are plump, full, and wet with salvia. Your mouth chases his when he pulls away, earning a chuckle from him. "Wasn't planning on it."
Hyunjin slows his pace to add another finger, stretching you with three digits before he's pumping again. You squeal at the speed, hands grasping onto the cushions to ground yourself. Your entire body feels hot, overstimulated to the point of fainting. Your heels dig into the couch as your high builds throughout your body. 
To make your climax powerful, Chan reaches down and flicks your clit rapidly. A mixture of a scream and a moan tear through your chest and you bury your face in Hyunjin's neck to conceal your embarrassing sounds.
"She's gonna cum again," Felix notes, eyes wide. 
The men watch as your body begins to convulse once again, arousal dripping further onto the couch and some to the floor. 
"Whatever," Minho snorts. "I made her cum first."
"Yeah, with my help," Chan looks up to narrow his eyes accusingly. 
It's in the midst of their banter that you cum, shaking and filled with burning pleasure. Hyunjin's fingers hardly slow their pace, but Chan hears your muffled cries and slows his rubbing. Your drool begins to seep onto Hyunjin's expensive shirt, but he pays no mind to it. He's too caught up in the way your sensitive body jolts and quivers with every thrust. 
He only stops when he feels warm tears soak his shirt. His fingers slip out of your cunt, taking a few strings of arousal with it. He cradles your face in his hands, looking worried. 
"Oh, my sweet angel," he coos. "Was that too much for you?" 
You're still vibrating with pleasure, jumping when Chan tenderly grips your neck.
"G-good," you manage to choke out. "S-so good. More, more. Wanna keep cumming."
The anxious expression on Hyunjin's face fades, and you hear a few of the men chuckle at your admission. 
"You can cum many times as you want, baby," Chan confirms. "But we need to know, was it him?"
For a moment, you're confused. Was what who? Who was what? Your brain flicks with thinking before the light bulb goes off.
"It wasn't him, was it?" Jeongin hopes, eyes shining with hope and arousal.
Your mind is half-broken, barely managing to say, "Not...not him." Hyunjin groans in frustration, throwing his head back dramatically. "Fuck! I so thought she was gonna say it was me. Didn't think her brain would still work after all that!"
Hyunjin stands up, defeated. The space next to you feels cold and empty, but Chan's warm touch keeps you feeling floaty and safe. You reach up to grasp onto his form, mewling and pawing at any physical contact you can get. 
"Shhh, everything's okay baby. We're right here," Chan leans down to whisper in your ear. "You're halfway there."
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a/n: holy shit this is taking me soooooooo long so I decided to break it into parts lmao I apologize. *slightly* proof-read ill be honest. tell me how you like it! taglist: @hyunjinhoexxx, @sharonxdevi, @thexemyy, @linocvp1d, @nahimgoodmom, @oddracha, @ihrtlix, @soobin-is-squishy, @kwanisms-replies, @scrumptiousbasketballranchalien, @got-me-seein-stars, @mkbum(also if you guys want to keep up with fics just tell me you wanna be tagged in the comments or something)
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hells-wasabii · 2 months
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hello :33
Could i request a drabble with Alastor x reader who can break deals made by demons
He meets the reader, who comes into the hotel, and they make a deal that is totally bad on their end (like to let them touch his ears once and in return they will do his bidding forever and ever).
But then after getting Alastor to do his part, they break the deal, and Alastor and everyone else is dumbfounded. (he is equally pissed and intrigued)
I looooooove your writing and congratulations on 200 followers!! :3
A/N: Hey wait I know you! You were one of my first followers! Thanks for sending this in, it’s seriously a cool concept and was pretty fun to work on! I actually hadn’t planned on it being so long, but I hope you enjoy!
Character: Alastor
Type: Fic (Alastor x reader with a deal breaking ability, Fluff, Angst)
Alastor knew when he was being watched, he could practically feel your eyes on him from across the room. His smile turned tense as he narrowed his eyes at the little display that Niffty was attempting to show him. Though, she really couldn’t be bothered whether he was paying attention or not. Alastor couldn’t help but wonder: why was it you were staring at him so intently?
You were an enigma to Alastor. You were a guest of the hotel, and yet of you he knew next to nothing other than a name and a knack for mischief. As far as he could tell, you were ordinary. A specimen that did little to pique his interest. The radio demon turned his attention from Niffty’s insect display to look at you from the corner of his eyes. He watched with unease as you smiled knowingly at him, almost as if you knew something that he didn’t and he was the last to be left in the dark.
“I want to make a deal with you.”
Now that, that got his attention. The words had left your mouth so effortlessly. It was barely a whisper and yet it was enough to make his shadow move across the room to tower over you. If you noticed, you didn’t let it show. Perhaps that should have been his first sign that something was amiss.
In moments Alastor was mere inches away, a grin that couldn’t be described as anything else but plotting splitting his lips. “And what is it that I can do for you, my dear?” Behind him, his shadow waited impatiently, hungry for a meal, a soul. And Alastor planned to feed it.
“I want to touch your ears,” You said it with such confidence, so much so that it nearly took him aback. In fact, there was hardly a pause or even a moment of consideration. It sounded more like an impulse than anything else.
Surely he was hearing things. His… Ears? What kind of preposterous request is that? And to offer your soul for such a thing? Preposterous. Surely you had lost your mind before or since your arrival. But perhaps it was an even trade-off, considering his aversion to touch. Truly, he couldn’t see himself losing to a fool’s deal like this.
It was all standard, really. The matter was settled in a shake of the hand, markings and sigils appearing in the air and lining the walls around the both of you. And of course the rest of the Hotel’s residents, guests and staff alike came along to see what the fuss and light show was about. Alastor didn’t make deals every day after all? When had been the last time he had struck a deal for a soul? He could hardly remember as your hand left his.
“Well, let’s get this over with, shall we?” As if you needed any more invitation than that. Stepping closer, you reached up. Had it not been for the fact that the radio demon had no choice but to hold up his end of the bargain, you were sure that getting this close would either reward you with a stern warning or the loss of a limb. Anyone else would have hesitated, but not you. Not when you had an ace up your sleeve the way you did.
The moment that your fingers brushed the appendages on the top of the radio demon’s head, your mouth opened into a fine ‘o’ shape. They were unbelievably soft. Usually, the pelt of a deer is coarse, the hair only smooth when you go with the grain, and prickly when against. But with Alastor, it felt more like fur than the usual coarse hair of a buck. Interesting.
The radio demon did his best to steel himself, unwilling to show any sort of reaction, especially with an audience present. His expression nearly fell as he realized that the rest of the Hotel’s residents were bearing witness to such an embarrassing situation. He made a note to attempt to save face later.
When it was finally over, his smile turned sinister. He relished the feeling of a new leash, a new bond, forming in the palm of his hand. The radio demon couldn’t help but love the way a new wave of power coursed through him He watched with glee as the chain began to form, link by link until it came to an end at the binding around your neck. But you merely smiled. This was his second clue that something was a miss.
He lifted his gaze to follow your hand, as you raised it up to grasp the glowing green bond. He watched as it strained, the shackle and the chain before it shattered in a manner that was not unlike glass. He could feel it, the broken bond. He could feel the power that had just coursed through his veins leave his body.
His lips twitched. His smile nearly fell, in fact, the overlord was certain that if it hadn’t been for the green stitches that appeared as he slipped into his demonic form, he was sure that he would have bared his teeth in a ferocious snarl. Instead, Alastor lost his composure. He reached out to grab ahold of you, but you were already two steps ahead and three out of range of the radio demon.
“What is the meaning of this.” The radio in Alastor’s voice crackled, a grating sound that nearly made you falter.
But you merely grinned, continuing to back away towards the others. “Deals are always meant to be broken.” With this, you turned on your heels and were out the door before more could be said.
You. You were exactly what he needed. But how could he possibly have you do anything in his favor without some sort of leverage or contract? It had been quite some time since someone had provoked his ire like this, but he wouldn’t allow himself to be bested like this. Not by a long shot. Alastor stood tall, dusting off his tattered coat, as if it had been sullied in some form or fashion as he watched you make your leave. It would seem that the radio demon had quite a bit of work to do.
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galacticgraffiti · 8 months
Text
❁ Sugar (I've developed a taste for you) ❁
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!!! NSFW ⋆ 18+ ⋆ Minors DNI !!!
Summary: Astarion asks for a favour and ends up getting more than what he bargained for (or: I'm a lesbian but this fictional little vampire twink can get it)
Rating: Explicit (for eventual smut) Wordcount: 2.4k Descriptors: I try to keep my reader-inserts fairly neutral, but let me know if anything slips through the cracks! Astarion is his usual self, pathetic and awful yet somehow also lovable as fuck. CW: bad flirting, friends with benefits (and the benefit is bloodsucking lol), blood, blood drinking, biting, hint of praise kink, eventual proper smut, nicknames, so much innuendo
✦⋆ Main Masterlist ⋆✦⋆ If you prefer AO3 ⋆✦
༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺
Chapter 1: My my, those eyes like fire
He could be lovely if he wasn’t so self-involved.
That is the first thought you have when you meet Astarion. He is not downright mean, but something about him just bugs you. He flirts with every creature on two legs (sometimes even those with more), but that’s not it.
Something about all his honeyed words just feels so… insincere. 
You think Astarion has something to hide, and you desperately want to know what it is. So far, he has shown no signs of weakness, and he is as much as self-entitled twat as when you first met him. And this continues to be your opinion of him… up until today.
The day has been hard. Your feet hurt, your hands have blisters, and you are smeared with blood pretty much all over. Your shirt has been ripped and frankly, you don’t know when you might find the time to mend it. There is a giant bloodstain on the thigh of your trousers, and you are pretty sure your hair has become completely encrusted in blood quite some time ago.
But you have made it back to camp and that is all that counts.
As you shake out your bedroll and try to ignore the fact that this is the seventh night in a row that you’ll have had bland stew for dinner, you catch Astarion’s eyes across the fire.
His gaze is… odd.
You have seen him in the heat of battle, you’ve seen the glint in his eye when he comes up with another of his devious plans. You’ve even seen him amused, shaking with laughter when Gale recited an - admittedly very ambiguous - poem to you.
But you have never seen him like this. It’s not affection, nor is it desire that lights up his delicate features. He almost looks… desperate. Like he is starving for something, and you can’t place your finger on what it is.
As soon as Astarion notices that you have caught him, his eyes flick away. He saunters off, way too casual to not be obvious about it.
You stare after him, vaguely confused. But then, Karlach makes her way over to ask for more stew, and you forget all about it. For the moment.
Her smile makes your belly flutter, and you wish you knew more about her, and so you do your best to make conversation, joking and asking shallow questions.
Astarion’s eyes haunt you through dinner.
Even though the day was exhausting, the nights in your little camp are starting to grow on you. Gale is funny in his own, book-wormish way. You have learned that Karlach is downright hilarious in her joy about the world outside of Avernus, and Wyll is always scandalised by her, which is admittedly quite fun to watch. Lae’zel and Shadowheart keep to themselves a bit more, but even they share the meals with the rest of you.
You laugh when Karlach imitates Wyll’s horrified expression, but in spite of yourself. your eyes keep wandering to the silver hair of your elven companion who is sitting across from you.
Astarion is staring at you again, his eyes focused on some point below your jaw. He is watching you intently, seemingly unaware you have caught him. He doesn’t blink, doesn’t look away - he just stares at you as your spoon scrapes along the bottom of your bowl.
Only when you get up to wash off before you go to bed does he move again.
Sometimes, Astarion reminds you of a scared animal in the way he moves, his eyes flicking back and forth, his hands trembling slightly whenever he is not in battle. He hides right out in the open, behind his swagger and his dirty jokes and innuendos, behind his beautiful face and his beautiful body.
Tonight, though, even in all his desperation, Astarion is not prey. He is a predator. And like any talented predator, he has managed to get his prey away from the protection of the group.
You are kneeling in the small stream that runs by the camp, washing your bowl, your clothes, yourself - everything is dirty and soaked in mud, sweat and blood. You are barely wearing anything, but your companions have seen you in much more precarious situations at this point.
Astarion approaches quietly, sneaking up on you in that manner where you can never tell whether it is intentional or not. He is just… there, suddenly, shedding his clothes next to you, blood still smeared on his pale skin.
He stops short of the water, watching you from the riverbank. You try not to gawk as he undresses, but something about him seems unusually anxious. The way he pushes hit foot forward so slowly, testing the water, makes you wonder if he might not know how to swim.
Astarion smiles suddenly, taking a step into the stream and towards you, then another, his smile growing the deeper he wades into the water. Dark red streaks appear in the water where the blood is washed from his pale skin.
He clears his throat and raises a sharp brow.
“And how are you feeling tonight, sweet thing?” he inquires. His eyes flick over your body, focusing on a point below your ear for a moment before he rips his gaze away again.
“‘M alright,” you answer, brow furrowed as you scrub your shirt a little harder than you actually need to. Why he has to be so infuriating with his nicknames, you’ll never know. “Today was… a lot. I wanted to have a quiet moment.”
“Ah.”
He doesn’t seem to get the hint. He merely wades further into the stream, shimmering pearls of water running down his back. When you don’t say anything else, he turns to face you once again.
“Are you not going to ask me how I am, darling?”
“Wasn’t planning on it,” you mumble, throwing your shirt to the side, Clearly, you’re not getting anywhere with it tonight.
“Tsk, so rude. Somebody should really teach you some manners.” He clicks his tongue at you like you are an insubordinate child, shaking his head until droplets hit you.
You press your lips together. If he wasn’t so beautiful, he wouldn’t get away with half the things he does, and it frustrates you to no end. You catch yourself forgiving him on occasions where you don’t mean to, simply because his face is the prettiest things you have ever seen, and you hate it.
Astarion watches you carefully, gauging your mood. You stare back at him defiantly. What the hell could he want from you, anyway?
The hunger in his eyes is back, you notice - that desperation that you can’t quite place. There is a pained expression around his mouth, and despite all his cockiness, he is clearly not doing entirely well - his skin even paler than usual, his hands shaking a little when he crosses his arms.
Astarion yawns, his gaze raking over you in a way that makes you shiver. You tell yourself it’s just the cold of the water.
“Well, I was going to ask you for your help, but you are in a terrible mood.” He inspects his fingernails, and even though you know exactly that he is baiting you, you can’t help yourself.
“You? Need my help? Never thought the day would come.” Your voice is biting, but you can’t hide the note of curiosity that sneaks in.
“Don’t make me out to be such a horrible companion.” Astarion takes a step closer to you through the water. You take a step back. He laughs, but his eyes catch on your neck again. “I’m not that bad, am I?”
You shrug.
“Sometimes you are.”
“Hm.” He raises his brows, and takes another step towards you. This time, you don’t step back. “Well, I suppose that can’t be helped, my love. We all have good and bad days, don’t we?” He cocks his head. “And today has been quite hard for me.”
You make a non-committal noise, staring him down. What in the hells is he trying to do? Seduce you?
Your body likes that thought much more than your mind does.
Astarion is watching you intently. He stretches out his hand to take yours, and in your surprise, you don’t even pull back. His thumb rests right against the delicate inside of your wrist, and he closes his eyes.
You wait for him to drone on about how he carried your group on the battlefield, to gloat that you now owe him your life seven times over, but he doesn’t. Astarion stays eerily still, breathing deeply as his thumb strokes your wrist, pressing against your pulse point.
You can’t keep quiet any longer, not with the odd way he is behaving. Maybe he got hit by a spell, or…
“Any reason today was particularly hard for you?” You meant to sound sarcastic, but the question comes out sounding sincere. You scold yourself for caring so much.
Your skin burns like fire where he is touching you. Astarion’s eyes open, and he looks at you like he was a million miles away. He is so close now - much closer than you realised. You can see the fiery ring around his irises.
“I…” To your surprise, his voice is hesitant and quiet. “It’s easier to just… show you. You see, I need something from you, my darling.”
You frown.
“Why ask me? You could ask any of us, and most of them would be more inclined to help than I am. I’ve seen the way that Gale watches you at the fire-”
“Gale?” Astarion sounds genuinely amused. “Darling, do you think I’m asking you for sexual favours right now?”
“I- yes?” Your voice is full of uncertainty. “I mean… is that not what you were going to say?”
Astarion smiles, small and sharp.
“No.” He is even closer to you now, his thumb still caressing the skin of your wrist. “Even though I would not be disinclined if you offered… you are quite beautiful, you know?”
“Mh. Thank you?” You wish your heart would not beat faster at the way he looks at you. It’s a look that doesn’t fit the words that fall from his lips, a look that betrays the desperation with which he needs this favour. “What-”
“What I am asking for is simple.” He is so close now he could kiss you if you leaned in. “All I want is… a taste.”
“I- what?”
His lips are on your neck, his hand in your hair. You are not quite sure when that happened.
“Say yes, sweet thing,” he breathes. “Just a taste of your blood and-”
“My blood?” You sound more distraught than you actually feel. You are… oddly resigned. You should have seen this coming - you knew something was up with him, you knew he wasn’t telling you the whole truth.
And now, here you are. With a fucking vampire. His lips graze your pulse point, and your heart beats faster. You can feel the heat of his breath when he utters a single word.
“Please.”
It’s that one word that changes everything. Just like that, he has you. All the arrogance, all the superiority is gone from his voice, and what is left is just hunger and the fear that you might reject him. For a moment, you are sure you must have imagined it, but then, Astarion repeats himself.
“Please.” His hand tightens around your wrist, though he is trembling more than you are. “Just a taste, no more.”
Your lips are numb when you answer, your mind screaming at you not to let him- this is dangerous, this is stupid- you have already lost so much blood in the fight today and-
“Yes.” Your hands are on his shoulders, then in his silver hair. He smells so good; even after this horrid day. Your voice is softer than you intend for it to be, but his desperation makes you weak. “If you need it, it’s yours.”
Astarion makes a sound that shatters you, and before you can think too much about your own colossal stupidity, his fangs sink into your neck. 
It’s not painful.
It’s uncomfortable, but the fear that bites into your heart ebbs after mere seconds. Astarion’s hands are surprisingly warm against you, keeping you upright. Your head falls to the side, granting him easier access and - oh.
Why does it feel so good?
You become acutely aware of your blood flowing from the small puncture wounds in your neck, and for a moment, you panic, stiffening in Astarion’s arms.
“There, there, sweet thing.” His lips don’t raise an inch from your neck. “It’s alright, just trust me. Just a taste, all I want is a taste…”
Your head is swimming.
“You have tasted me,” you whisper, trying to pull away. When you look into Astarion’s eyes, there is a red glint in them - and a sadness that overwhelms you.
“No taste of you will ever be enough.” Astarion looks up at you from beneath long lashes. “You are divine, my love.”
The tip of his tongue wets his lips, licking up the small droplets of blood that linger.
You stare at him, trying with all your might to focus.
“You said… just a taste. No more than you need.”
His finger traces your jaw, down your neck, and your whole body is on fire.
“If it were up to me, I would need all of you,” Astarion sighs, his lips on your neck again, his tongue lapping at the blood that flows from the wound he has given you. “I would take and take, and give you so much in return. I would have you in ways you did not even know you wanted. Taste everything you have to offer.”
You shiver when he raises your wrist to his mouth, soft lips pressing to delicate skin.
“I would cherish you, keep you. My little pet, so perfect, so beautiful in every way. So eager to give what I need. Would you give me more if I asked?”
“Of course,” your lips say even though those were not the words you were planning to utter. But how could you ever say no to him? “If that’s what you need.”
Astarion’s sigh is one of rapture and delight.
“So obedient for me… You know, all these days I thought you hated me.” He chuckles to himself. “I suppose even I can be wrong sometimes.”
His teeth sink back into your neck, and the world goes dark.
༻────• ༻❁༺ •────༺
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HELLO MY DOVES i finally found time to format this for tumblr so here you go, for those who are not in love with the bear, you can get the twink, as a treat.
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