#but she apologized profusely that it was so out of tune

[finnegansundaysociety]

a love letter

decades-old out-of-tune pianos that no one will tune for fear of breaking you

i love you. you are beautiful. you are beautiful because you have not been tuned. your music is like nothing i will ever hear again except from your keys.

stories are written in your almost-rotting woodgrain. your yellowing keys are soaked with songs, tears, sweat, pain, and love.

my songs are a drop in the ocean of music that has poured forth from you. it is the greatest honor i have ever been gifted to swim in your history.

my only hope is that i am merely worthy enough to pull up a bench,

and if i am not, i hope you can forgive me,

while i drown in your sound for just a few moments longer

[taesanrot]

[from the start] taesan x f!reader | 4.0k words college au, classmates to lovers, making out, alc consumption ++ terrible drunk decisions lmao, angst kinda, misunderstanding, mutual pining, fear of physical touch at first, everyone is just a little confused note. sorry this took literally so long to finish, i kept changing my mind on how i wanted it to go. fun fact the original idea for this fic was based on my real life situationship. hope u guys enjoy <3

you shouldn't be here. you should be sleeping off the alcohol flowing through you in your own bed, at your place. you shouldn't be here, pressed against taesan's chest, your mouth molded against his.

up until a few hours ago, han taesan was nothing but a fleeting memory. just someone your friends brought up once in a while to watch the way your cheeks flared up in embarrassment. he was part of the past, an unfortunate moment during your freshman year in university. your friends didn't know about the guilt that ate away at you every time the boy's name crossed your mind.

the two of you had met in english, deskmates who bonded over the frustrations that came with your shitty professor and endless essays. complaining about class turned into hushed whispers while the professor wasn't looking, adding each other on socials and snapping silly pictures back and forth, walking back to the dorms together. because... why not? taesan was cute and you couldn't help but chase the feeling that came with every interaction you two shared.

you never thought it would turn into anything, until your friends pointed out the obvious: he liked you. taesan liked you. the way your hair flowed so prettily, the way you smiled at all of his stupid pictures and the way your eyebrows furrowed at the professors nasally voice.

the two of you had an undeniable connection, and it ended with the two of you sitting on his bed watching a movie together on his roommate, sungho's, tv.

flirty glances and brushing hands turned into his hands running up your arms, breath hot on your neck as you tangled your fingers in his dark hair. having him like this should've felt like heaven, but instead your chest tightened and your body tensed, to the point where taesan pulled away from you, looking into your eyes and softly asking if this was okay, if you were okay.

you should've told him the truth, you were just scared. you hadn't done this before, not with someone who you felt so deeply for. you just wanted to slow down a bit. but instead you faked a smile and just said that you remembered something your friend had asked you to do, ignoring the stab in your chest as his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. you pulled away uncomfortably quick and left without another word. that was months ago.

the last you'd heard from him was hours after you left; he'd apologized profusely, saying he'd misread things and you tried and tried to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. you wished he could read your mind so you didn't have to face the fact that you were a coward and you'd hurt him in the process.

taesan thought that night would be the last time he'd see you. he could tell something was wrong, and he'd figured that you'd never want to see him again. but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to blame you, hate you, nothing.

...

"seriously? you're not mad.... at all?" sungho sat up in his bed, staring at his roommate in disbelief. "dude, she literally led you on and ghosted you." jaehyun chimed in, shaking his head at the younger boy. taesan shrugged and went back to tuning his guitar, covering up the sounds of his friends' scoffs with the vibrations of the strings he plucked. they thought he was hopeless, and secretly, he agreed.

...

after months of radio silence, it was safe to say that taesan was not expecting his phone to ping with a message from you.

you tried to move on from things with the music major, joking away your pain with your friends and going on dates with other guys. it worked for a few months, but eventually thoughts of han taesan caught up to you. they plagued your mind for days on end.

late at night, lying in your bed and staring at the ceiling, you wondered how things could've been different if you'd just told taesan the truth. you thought it was easier to just run away and pretend nothing happened between the two of you, that you'd be at peace if you just went back to before you knew he liked you, before you knew you liked him too. in the end, it just left you feeling empty.

you hadn’t ever met anyone like him, something you hadn’t ever admitted out loud. you couldn't go back to the way things were before, he'd left an imprint on your mind like no one else.

the thoughts you tried to smother finally came up to surface on a breezy saturday night as you were celebrating your friend, yunjin's, 21st birthday party at her apartment. after more than a few shots and the truly you split with yeri, you felt like you were on another planet. you stumbled over to the living room, falling onto the couch and leaning your head back and closing your eyes.

after a few minutes of sitting with your intoxicated state, you lazily unlocked your phone, scrolling through your instagram timeline, attention focusing in and out. that was until you came across a certain set of pictures. you squinted, reading the caption.

tae23san take my tears @psungho @myungj4e

pictured was none other than taesan, sitting on top of a car with his head tilted back to look at the sky.

sitting up slightly, you carefully scrolled through the dump of photos taesan had posted: him posing in the booth of a recording studio, he, sungho, and jaehyun in a photobooth, a candid of him playing the guitar, a mirror selfie with sungho, and a solo shot of him.

the last picture almost took your breath away; he posed with a hand ruffling his own hair as he pouted his lips.

all at once, you felt every emotion you fought so hard to drown explode in your heart. you missed him. so much. your head spun with sadness, guilt, and longing. you wanted to- no, you needed to see him.

it wasn't long before the thoughts popped in your head.

why don't i just text him?

whats the worst that could happen?

it was bad idea, a terrible idea truly. but you couldn't help yourself, you opened your contacts and found your chat with him faster than you could blink. you fumbled with the screen, trying to type out a cohesive message to the boy you so desperately wanted to see.

[1:53 a.m.]

y/n: taesnjsnnnnn

y/n: i miss you

y/n: i'm soryry

y/n: can i swee yuo? please

...

taesan was hoping to have a peaceful smoke with his friends. he, sungho, and jaehyun had spent the day working on a project for their advanced music production class, and were now sitting on the couch passing a blunt around, some rnb songs floating softly through the air.

taesan breathed in slowly, sucking in the laced smoke and exhaling it softly, humming at the warm feeling in his limbs. he felt his phone buzz in his pocket, laughing at the feeling of the vibrations against his thigh.

"this is done for." jaehyun mumbled before flicking off the ash and placing the end on the side table. taesan watched him with hooded eyes as he stood up to stretch out his limbs, making sungho and taesan giggle.

"i'm going to my room." sungho stood as well, murmuring a similar quip before meandering over to his door. "don't forget to turn off the lights, san."

taesan groaned in acknowledgement, letting his head fall back onto the couch. not really wanting to sleep, he wondered if he should watch a movie or make some food.

the boy sighed in boredom, pulling his phone out of his pocket languidly and swiping through his notifications.

his already blown out pupils grew even bigger at the sight of your name in his notifications. he'd never gotten around to deleting your number -- he figured there was no point.

his eyes focused on the words next to your name. 4 unopened messages. he rubbed his eyes slowly.

was he really that high right now? or did you really message him. taesan's gaze jumped over to the timestamp.

10 minutes ago.

he hurriedly clicked the notification, tapping his thigh with his fingers as the screen expanded to display your texts. you were clearly a bit out of it, taesan smiled at your typos. his vision seemed to laser focus on the one text you didn't misspell.

i miss you.

taesan couldn't say he didn't feel the same way. despite sungho and jaehyun's relentless nags, he thought about you more often than he'd like to admit.

somehow, he knew something was up the fateful night the two of you had hung out. that wasn't you, he just knew it. or so he told himself. he didn't want to be mad at you, he didn't want to hate you. he had hoped for this day so many times. the day you'd tell him you didn't mean it.

taesan's fingers moved across the screen slowly.

[2:08 a.m.]

han taesan: hey

han taesan: where are you?

...

from the moment you hit send, you had suddenly been more alert, thoughts racing a million miles a minute.

what do i do if he responds? is he even awake? he just posted, he has to be. god, i hope this works.

you'd taken the leap, there wasn't any going back.

you begrudgingly lifted yourself from the couch you were sitting on, looking for your friends so you could take your mind off of the messages you'd just sent.

walking over to the fridge, you grabbed a water bottle to help you sober up a bit.

eunchae and chaewon did a great job at keeping you from checking your phone every thirty seconds. you laughed at their horrific job at playing pictionary against two guys yunjin knew, anton and sohee.

your two friends were losing bad, and you smiled watching anton and chaewon bicker, anton giggled at chaewon's reddened face. you hoped you'd remember to tease her about it later.

your phone buzzed twice in your pocket and you held your breath as you fished it out and tapped the screen. face to face with taesan's messages, nearly shrieking, you quickly typed a response.

you paused for a second, calculating your next move. you really wanted to see him, praying to god that he was free and willing.

[2:09 a.m.]

y/n: yunjins place. in source complex

taesan: oh

taesan: what room

y/n: 204

taesan: im 3 floors up

taesan: in 511

y/n: can i come up

taesan: yeah of course

while you were definitely a little more sober than 15 minutes ago, you still fought to not squeal into your hand. looking around, you searched for yunjin so you could bid her goodbye.

...

mellow music still floating in the air of the living room, taesan dropped his phone in his lap. he let out a shaky sigh.

whether it was the weed or the fact that he was about to see you after what felt like forever, taesan was suddenly very nervous, wiping his hands on his pants and slowly standing from the couch.

rubbing his arms, he looked around the apartment, unsure of what to do until you got there. he assumed you'd take a bit to leave your friends apartment and make your way up to his. taesan hoped you'd make it okay; he wanted to come get you but was honestly way too fucking high to leave his apartment.

"i guess i'll go brush my teeth or something." the boy mumbled to himself, walking over to the bathroom to fix his hair and make sure he smelled okay.

...

stepping into the elevator, you looked at your reflection as the doors closed, almost forgetting to hit the button for the fifth floor in the midst of smoothing your hair down and fixing your slightly smeared eyeliner with your thumb.

closing your eyes, you lightly rubbed your temples in a sore attempt to bring yourself back to reality, and to emotionally prepare yourself.

you were seeing taesan again, finally.

you hid your blush from literally no one and smiled slightly into your hand as the elevator doors opened.

...

standing in front of the boy's door, the weight of the situation at hand truly hit you.

what exactly did you want from this?

what did you want from him?

if you ended up hurting him again you wouldn't be able to forgive yourself. huffing slightly, you brought a hand up to your neck to fiddle with your necklace and think.

your dazed yet racing thoughts were interrupted by the opening of the front door to taesan's apartment, door swinging back to reveal none other than the music major himself.

"hi" you smiled and spoke quietly.

even though he knew you were coming, the boy somehow still couldn't believe the sight in front of him. it was really you.

you looked as breathtaking as ever in his eyes, your hair a bit shorter than the last time he saw you. taesan caught himself and chuckled slightly, moving out of the way to make room for you.

"come in."

you blushed as you stepped into the apartment awkwardly, not sure what to do with yourself. the alcohol was still making your head spin, eyes adjusting slowly to the sight of taesan's living space. you slipped your shoes off quietly and followed the boy as he walked into the kitchen.

"do you want some water? or snacks? we have chips and fruit, unless sungho ate them all. i think we have some juice too...." taesan's high had clearly not worn off in the slightest, and the boy winced after realizing he rambled on about the contents of his pantry for a full 30 seconds.

you couldn't have cared less, eyes focused on how pretty his hair looked brushed down in his face. making eye contact with him, you noticed the red tint to them, giggling quietly.

"we also have -- are you even listening?" taesan smiled at your starry eyes as you shook your head and laughed.

"god y/n- okay let's just go sit down." he watched you eagerly turn around and nearly skip towards his living room couch, settling right in the middle of the sofa.

the couch cushions were soft as they rubbed slightly against the exposed skin of your legs. shivering slightly, you wished you'd worn a bit more than just a crop top and denim shorts.

your gaze traced the lines of the wood on his coffee table, thoughts lost and scattered. you were just as blown away at the sight of him as he was of you. you recalled the sight of his larger hands shoved in the pockets of his zip up, wondering what it would feel like to have them wrapped around your own.

you wriggled your socked toes to a beat only you could hear, trying to take your mind off of the nervousness flowing through your veins.

"here." you looked up quickly to see taesan standing in front of you, about an arms length away. "i brought you some water."

taesan bit his lip to keep himself from smiling at the sight of you on the sofa. he looked around awkwardly for a second, not sure where to sit -- you were in the middle of the couch and choosing either side of the sofa would leave him sitting directly next to you.

"why are you still standing? come sit." you tilted your head at him and patted the spot to your right softly, smiling up at the nervous boy.

sighing out in relief, taesan plopped down next to you and settled into the corner of the sofa. you turned slightly so you could face him as he spoke, glass of water abandoned on the coffee table.

"do you wanna watch a movie?" he asked.

"is it okay to turn on the tv this late?" you shyly responded

taesan's ears turned slightly red in embarrassment. he 100% forgot about his two other roommates sleeping soundly in their own rooms.

while they probably wouldn't mind the noise, taesan didn't want to have to explain why you of all people were in their living room at this very moment.

"if you're okay with it, we can watch something in my room, i can play it on my laptop." taesan spoke.

your cheeks burned slightly at the idea of seeing the boy's room but you hummed in agreement, standing up quickly. the sudden movement caused you to stumble a bit. taesan stood up after you, wrapping a hand around your arm in an attempt to steady you.

"are you okay?" he turned you to face him fully, hands resting lightly on your shoulders as he looked at you worriedly.

your breath hitched at the mere inches of space between the two of you. taesan's gaze left you speechless, and your eyes searched his face before landing on his lips.

for every minute that had passed since you sent that first fateful text message, the anticipation had been eating you alive. deciding you couldn't take it anymore, you pulled yourself up by the collar of the boy's hoodie and pressed your lips against his.

his mouth was plush and unmoving against yours and you let yourself close your eyes and savor the feeling for a moment before lowering yourself back onto your heels.

opening your eyes, you mentally geared yourself for the awkward conversation you feared was about to ensue. taesan, on the other hand, barely gave you a moment to breathe, chasing your lips the second they detached from his. slipping a hand behind your neck, he tilted his face down and sealed his lips over yours once again.

taesan's mind raced as he bit your bottom lip, wondering what this was going to lead to and if he'd regret it. he decided he couldn't care less when he felt you tilt your head to the side and push your tongue in his mouth.

you craned your face upward and grabbed the sides of his sweatshirt tightly, like he might disappear if you let go of him. you needed more of him.

you broke your lips from his for a split second to ask where his room was. taesan mumbled something you couldn't hear before pulling you by your shoulders. the boy's mouth didn't leave yours for a second, only pulling away to push his door open.

you opened your eyes slowly, looking up to meet the taller boy's hooded gaze. you turned around and took in the sight in front of you. taesan's bed was in the corner of the room, posters hung above a small desk. you smiled at the tangles of wires on the floor, leading to a small speaker system and bass guitar.

"gonna go turn off the lights and check the door." taesan's voice rasped. you hummed in acknowledgement and stepped forward into the room slowly.

you walked over and climbed onto the boy's bed, bringing your legs up so you could hug your knees. staring at your socked feet, your mind was completely blank. when taesan came back you were absentmindedly fixing your hair and shirt, not even noticing the boy's return.

"are you okay?" taesan asked softly.

you looked up to see his eyes on you, smiling at the way hands were politely tucked behind his back. he was nervous, hoping he didn't overstep or make you uncomfortable. taesan didn't think he could handle watching you run out his door a second time.

"okay?" you tilted your head in confusion.

"with this... being here with me." your heart panged with sadness, feeling so guilty for how you made him feel before. you wanted to make it up to him.

"i am. i want this. i promise, taesan." you watched taesan slowly process your words though his wavering high, smile forming on his face. his hands came up to push your legs down, and you scooted towards him, giggling and wrapping your legs are his standing figure.

taesan had abandoned his hoodie in the living room, now in a loose t-shirt. your hands scrunched the fabric of the graphic tee as you pulled the boy towards you again. taesan complied without a word, bending down to meet your awaiting lips. you moved your lips against his languidly, savoring each swipe of his tongue against yours.

taesan pushed your body backwards so he could climb on the bed with you. you scooted back until you were pressed against the headboard, only staying there for a second before taesan pulled you onto his lap.

his lips went to your neck, pressing soft kisses and grazing his teeth against the sensitive skin. with each kiss, bite, and swipe of his tongue against you, taesan could feel you practically melting into his lap. eyes screwed shut, your head leaned back to further expose your neck and your fingers tugged at the boy's hair.

you slightly pulled taesan's face away from you, bringing your hands to gingerly cup his face. his eyes were slightly glossed over as you placed a wet kiss on his lips.

the last traces of your sobriety were thrown out the window, both of you drunk off each other. taesan thought you looked like an angel, bringing a hand up to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear. your eyes formed crescents as you smiled at the boy, and he swore he almost stopped breathing.

your hand came up to rest over his that was still cupping your face, intertwining your fingers. bringing them closer to your face, you opened taesan's and placed a featherlight kiss in the center of his palm.

"what was that for?" taesan mumbled in between giggles as he watched you continue to play with his fingers.

"thank you." your voice wavered slightly, eyes looking up to meet his nervously. you laughed at the puzzled look on his face before continuing.

"for giving me a second chance and letting me come over." you sighed shakily under taesan's gaze. "i missed you, a lot."

"probably not as much as i missed you." taesan replied softly, squeezing your hands and tilting your chin up to meet your wide eyes.

the moment that passed between the two of you was long and drawn out, you savored the feeling of weight being lifted off your chest. trapped in his eyes and tucked in his arms, you couldn't fathom missing the chance to have han taesan like this.

as the thick silence dissolved and taesan's aching lips found yours again, the two of you knew staying away from each other was ill-fated from the start.

[bonus — 10:54 AM]

blinking the sleep from your eyes, you lazily searched taesan's fridge for a water bottle. as you shut the door, a loud crash abruptly pulled you out of your sleepy daze. coming face to face with myung jaehyun, you let out a yelp of surprise.

"no fucking way." he spoke. a bowl of dry cereal lay at his feet, contents now strewn across the kitchen tiles.

ears turning red, you realized how insane you must look: your hair was untied and messily brushed down and you were wearing nothing but an old tshirt and some boxers taesan had given you.

"what happe- oh god." taesan said from behind jaehyun, having rushed over to the kitchen to check on you. it was safe to say the last thing he expected was to see you and his roommate staring open mouthed at each other. flustered, taesan opened his mouth to explain, but jaehyun interrupted him with a loud sigh.

"fuck you tae, now i owe woonhak 20 bucks."

...

taglist: @iweirdthingsblog @yjwkisser @sulkygyu @enhyven

[aklaustaleteller]

On One Condition

Klaus feels bad for messing up Y/n's exam preparation schedule, so he asks her what it is that he can do to 'earn her forgiveness'. Yet somehow, he manages to put up a condition when she asks him to help her with an art project...

Warnings - none, really.

Word Count - 1.4k

Masterlist | please reblog the fic if you like it!

So, I was rewriting an old fic when I decided to write a little backstory, i.e. this fic, and I hope you guys like it! I'll be posting part two within the next two days so yay!

Update: You can now read part two here!

She was something else, a feisty one who liked a good chase. And Klaus should've noted that from miles away. But he was too deep in now, and he wasn't going to back down until he had her.

He was waiting outside the school to catch Stefan, have a chat with him and warn him against trying to harm him because telling him off meant telling off the entire group, and Klaus found that lovely.

And he had just caught sight of Stefan when he saw her behind him, her hair bun not so tight as hair stands fell out and framed her face. She was walking with another girl who seemed to be trying profusely to convince Y/n of something -- probably a party if Klaus were to guess but he felt himself tuning in when she walked in a closer range to him.

"I really cannot do it, Vicki. Please try to understand that I'm myself giving exams right now," he heard her say, and then saw as she put her hand on her shoulders. There was softness in her voice that he'd never wished previously to be directed at him.

Bringing her in for a hug, Y/n explained herself again, as if she felt bad for denying whatever it was that Vicky wanted. "I would've helped you out had I not missed out on my preparation earlier. I’ve quite literally been studying the night before for each exam." She smiled, with what emotion Klaus couldn't quite see, but he found it beautiful, nonetheless.

"Why don't you ask Elena? I'm sure that way you'll bump into Jeremy a couple times as well," Y/n grinned, passing the squinting brunette a quick wink before turning back towards the exit with a sigh of relief.

Though it only took a couple steps for her to bump into Klaus, not so accidently. She'd seen him the moment she'd gotten out of the gates, and the fact that she had to pass him in order to reach her car only made her feel... more positive, let’s say.

She hadn't gone out of her way to slam into him, but he had. And the only other thing she has to blame is her spiteful walk that led the one library book she'd borrowed to topple out of her grip.

"Klaus, back off," she gritted, quickly picking up her book and moving once he did.

"It's not my fault, you know, that you bumped into me," Klaus said with a lure in his voice that suggested he just wanted to rile her up. "I'd apologize to me," he shrugged, a lopsided grin pulling up on his face when he noticed her turning.

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but that'd be a cruel and unusual punishment," she bit back, pressing her key to unlock the car.

"Please, save your breath. You'd probably need it to blow up your next date," Klaus teased, remembering the night Klaus had crashed her date and scared off the guy by doing nothing, really.

Sighing, Y/n gripped the steering wheel of her car and closed her eyes for a second. "Say something else and this book will become a lethal weapon," her voice was agitated as she warned him, and when he truly backed away with a proud grin on his face, she finally pulled back and drove home, daring to spare him a glance in her rear-view mirrors, an angry blush creeping up her neck when she caught his eyes.

Once she reached home, she didn't bother to lay out her clothes before jumping into her shower. Still, she buttoned up a loose striped cotton shirt and pulled her underwear up her legs. It didn't take her long to just decide on a pair of pyjama shorts.

After a good bowl of salad for lunch, she brought out her schoolwork to just do it on the porch considering the nice weather. But of course, that was a mistake because soon into her immersive study session, she was disturbed by loud clashing noises coming from the house across hers, Elena's house.

Taking a deep breath, she was just getting up when she caught sight of Damon and Stefan inside the house, speeding towards each other. It was purely for the dramatics, she was sure, considering the fact they wouldn't kill each other, they simply didn't have it in them.

She just felt sorry for Elena's dishes, maybe some of her furniture as well.

Twisting the knob she had just pushed the door in to go back inside the house when she heard a voice behind her. "Too noisy, aren't they?"

Klaus.

"You already messed up my preparation schedule once, Klaus. Do not dare to do it again," she said calmly, though her grip on the knob was probably tighter than normal.

With that, she decided to cross the line and enter her home. Then she turned around to face him, but he didn't seem to be in the mood to mess with her either.

"I came here to apologise, and perhaps, make up for the troubles I've caused you," he admitted, looking at her with such sincere eyes that she could've given in right then.

"And how do you plan on doing that? Plus, if this is a joke, I still have that book with me."

"You tell me what it is that will earn me your forgiveness," he said dramatically, making her look down to hide something from him, maybe a smile.

Opening the door wider, she looked at him and then hesitated a little. "Don't make me regret this," she said. "Come in, please."

Klaus was caught a bit off guard but managed to get inside, his eyes wandering right away to take in her house.

"I'm not sure how to word this really, so I'm just going to say it." Taking a breath, she sat on one of the dining table chairs and urged for him to do so too, getting a little flustered when he took the one right by her side and shifted so that he was turned towards her.

"What is it, love?"

"This might be a little ridiculous for you but it's very serious for me," she told him while maintaining eye contact to make sure he understood the situation.

Klaus simply nodded for her to go on, now leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.

"I know you paint, quite impressively, might I add but that's not the point here," she quickly shut the topic before Klaus could tease her.

"The point is, I have this art project that I said yes to under pressure because my favourite teacher asked me to. But were you to see even my handwriting, you'd know I'm no good at it. The most I can draw is a stick figure and even that's wonky sometimes," she admitted bashfully.

"I used to have a friend who'd do it for me, but she left town last year and now... I don't really have anyone who would," she let out a breath at that, her eyes closed in anticipation of his answer.

"So, you wish for me to help you out with this said art project?"

Sitting stiffly, she nodded.

"Okay then. I'll do it... but what is it?"

"Oh great!" She cheered; happiness evident on her face. "It's supposed to be this super zoomed in image of either a grapefruit, or a pomegranate."

Klaus leaned back in his chair then, sighing as he considered it. "I will do it on one condition," he proposed.

"And that is?"

"You will stay with me in my studio when I'm painting it," he shrugged, as if it wasn't so much a big deal.

"But were you not doing this for my forgiveness?" She narrowed her eyes, but when he began to get off the chair, she struggled for some answer to come out of her mouth before he could leave.

"Okay, okay! I will!" She agreed immediately, sitting back down in defeat when he remained standing, a smile on his face.

"I'll go now." He said, walking backwards towards the door and he could see the uncertainty in her eyes. He could've teased her about it but decided against it.

"Come by my house tomorrow, around three or four… your wish," he said before turning to open the door.

He turned back to see her reaction and a smile crept up on his mouth when he saw her smiling back at him.

"I will," she told him while waving him goodbye, stopping just before he sped off with his dead heart beating a mile an hour. 

[syoddeye]

Can you tell us what happened when price found out that she had stolen his radio? In way too curious👀 love your content you are such a good writer 💞

oh boy. the radio. | continuation of this and this. this one got away from me. ~1.3k words. banner by @/cafekitsune.

tags: food, smidgen of dacryphilia, noncon, cockwarming, throatfucking.

price knows something happened. the moment steps inside, quiet, hoping to catch his wife off guard, he knows. after all, he expected to see his wife dutifully working on the cherry pie she promised to make if he allowed her to remain indoors. (she’s been on her best behavior since the flower bed incident.)

instead, he finds the pastry half-pressed into the tin and washed cherries abandoned in a bowl. beneath his ragged breathing, he hears sniffling from the hall. the washroom. at first, he thinks she hurt herself. but that’d be mighty difficult. all she has are her fingers and spoons to bake with. anything sharper is secured. 

he edges down the hall, stopping at a faint crackling, and an even quieter voice.

— ...beg me again, sunshine, and maybe i won’t tell.

ah, nikolai. so the minx snooped around and found his radio. he’s half a mind to barge in and let nik listen in on his latest lesson. but with nik’s laughter mutedly echoing beyond the door, he gets another idea. he silently creeps out of the cottage, waits a few minutes, and then announces himself.

big, clomping steps. whistling a tune. sure enough, the missus hastily scrambles out of the bathroom, smoothing the borrowed shirt she wears—she hasn’t earned bottoms back quite yet, and she’ll probably lose tops now, too—and gives him a tight smile. ekes out an apology and explains she wasn’t feeling well, so she’s behind on baking.

and being a paragon of mercy, john merely drops a kiss to the top of her head and tells her he’s going to wash up.

(he suppresses a laugh at how stock-still she goes at that. poor thing clearly didn’t think that far ahead. probably hid the radio under the sink.)

he doesn’t even look for it when he rinses off. it doesn’t matter, because she’s not going to try it again.

john goes about the rest of his day, feigning cluelessness to his wife’s transgression. he lets her stew. like a guilt-ridden dog who wants its owner’s hand, like a penitent sweating in church. she unravels. more skittish than usual, flinching when he moves through the house, pretending not to stare when he lingers near the washroom.

at dinner, she squirms and barely lifts her eyes from her plate. pushes her food around. no appetite for your own cooking, darl? he teasingly admonishes. can’t let you have dessert if you don’t eat. and you worked so hard on that pie, didn’t you?

it’s the tipping point. the final straw. big, glossy tears flood her eyes and stream down her cheeks. her lip quivers, her chest heaves—she looks so damn pretty when she cries.

what’s the matter, sweetheart? c’mere.

he pushes back from the table and offers his arms.

she can’t refuse. it may be fear that guides her around the table, but it’s hope that plants her on his thigh. hope that he’ll forgive her. (he always will.) hope that he won’t punish her. (he always will.)

poor thing can’t get the words out, so john tucks her into his chest, and waits until she simmers. waits until he thinks she’s mustering the courage to confess.

this wouldn’t be about the radio, would it?

a beat, then a torrent of emotion. all that pent-up energy surges out in a rush of tears and babbling, fidgeting on his lap. to her credit, she skips denial this time and veers straight into confession. she apologizes profusely, curling her fingers in his shirt, beseeching him to not be mad. he’s not. blood rushes south, molten as he swipes a thumb over her wet cheek.

serve me a slice of pie, darl.

the confusion that passes over her face doesn’t stop her feet from moving. he adjusts himself while her back is turned and scoots his chair in. she hovers after setting the plate down, sniffling. 

he digs in. the crust crumbles, giving way to a burst of tart sweetness of cherries. juices mingling with cinnamon and vanilla. not too different from his wife. complex and piquant. a tasty thing in need of refinement and experienced hands. wherever she’s from, she’s clearly accustomed to running wild.

with a crook of his finger, she sinks to her knees just as he sinks his fork into another bite. he spreads his legs to let her crawl between them, eager for the forgiveness that only comes from his cock. once he’s freed, hot and heavy in her palm, he tempers her zeal, holding fast to the roots of her hair.

just hold it in that mouth an’ savor it. s’all the dessert you’re gettin’. 

john’s grip loosens as her mouth sheathes his cock, not bothering to shove her down yet. there’s pie to eat, his favorite, and he plans to relish every bite. take his time eating. he luxuriates in the warm heat of her mouth, the twitches of her tongue against the underside of his cock, pinned flat and pliant. feels her subtly negotiate the muscle and organ for better airflow. soft puffs from her nose. drool gradually leaking from the seal of her mouth, dampening his hair.

she flinches when the fork clatters onto the plate and again when he leans back. he groans at the sight of her. tears and snot and spit mess her pretty face. his cock throbs at how debauched she looks already. her soft lips cushioning him in a gentle hold, slick and shiny. her eyebrows curve up in question. a useless one.

his free hand joins the first in her hair and yanks. burrows his cock as far as it’ll go in one swift motion. the sensation of her throat immediately constricting, the jumping panic—it sends a bolt of pleasure down his spine. he holds her nose flush to him for a prolonged moment, admiring the view and picturing the spots dancing in her vision. her fists curl against his knees. she knows better than to hammer them.

he gives her no more time to acclimate. it is a punishment, after all. it’s supposed to hurt. supposed to be scary. something hard and cruel to make her appreciate all he’s done. his endless kindnesses. nik might’ve collected her, but she’s his responsibility now. No life for her outside these walls, outside of him.

this how it’s gonna have to be? Hm? Am i gonna have to keep this mouth busy?

his hips roll off the chair, hands engulfing the back and sides of her head. each thrust pulls a wet gag, sputtering whines and whimpers. his bucking grows more erratic as he chases release, throwing himself after the tight coil in his belly. the chair scrapes. his heels dig in. her face disappears in the thatch of hair. padding for a soft landing after a mean push.

long, thick spurts to paint her traitorous mouth and obliging throat. 

that’s it, that’s it. don’t waste—none of that, keep those eyes open.

he snarls, cock pulsing as the last of his cum spills. waits until he’s soft, gritting through the stimulation to prolong the indignity. to watch her cry a little more and listen to the garbled apologies. the ingrained gratitudes.

don’t speak with your mouth full, sweetheart. he says as he pulls out with a pop. reaches down as she sucks in air, pulls on the front of her apron until it gives, and wipes his cock. holds it like a leash while she sits on her haunches, cleaning her mouth with her hands. 

john doesn’t excuse her from the table yet. tucking himself away, he holds her watery gaze, and the claw where his heart’s supposed to be uncurls a fraction.

what am i gonna do with you? he opens his palm on his knee and turns it palm up. her cheek presses to it automatically.

are you ever gonna try the radio again? he chuckles fondly when she shakes her head against his hand. good. i like your tongue too much to cut it out.

[imaniwriting]

Can you write an imagine where jj is seeking refuge in his girlfriend’s home and she cleans his wounds and comforts him?

(This is so cute)

𝐁𝐫𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬

Warnings : Luke, abuse, mentions of blood, angst, swearing (let me know if i missed any)

Summary : after jj encounters his dad he has nowhere to go and chooses to pay his girlfriend a visit who is more than willing to take him in for a few days

Genre : Angst, Fluff

“You are a piece of shit!” Yelled Luke while taking another hit at his so called son. JJ was hunched up against the wall not having the energy to fight back.

He took one last hit at JJ’s face before spitting on him making JJ flinch. “You’re the goddamn reason why your mother left.” Luke gritted out while picking up a beer from the floor. JJ stood up and stormed into his room profusely crying.

He pulled his hair in anger feeling like he was a pet that his father could control whenever he wanted. He picked up his phone staring at the popped up message that was sent 20 minutes ago.

“Hey JJ, John B told me you were going home and i just wanted to make sure you’re okay”

He read the message over and over again shocked that someone really cared about him. Meanwhile you were sitting anxiously at home biting your lips staring at the message you sent 20 minutes ago. Usually JJ was a fast replier never did he leave anyone on read for more than 10 minutes especially you.

You sat up on your bed when you saw that he had opened the message waiting for ‘typing’ to pop up on your screen. But it never did. Not after 5 minutes not after 10.

You were about to leave your house to check on him when there was a knocking on your door. “Coming!” You yelled skipping down the stairs to answer your door.

And there he was, the love of your life standing with bloodied cuts on his face and hands. You placed down your keys and quickly embraced him in a tight hug.

JJ wrapped his arms around your waist and gently moved you so he could step into the house and escape the coldness of the night. “God, JJ what happened?” You asked while closing the door and turning to him.

“Nothing that hasn’t happened before” he chuckled but there wasn’t any humor to it, it was a cold chuckle. You frowned and quickly took his hand in yours to guide him into the bathroom.

“Sit down” you ordered in an instant taking out the first aid kit he followed your command and sat down at the edge of the bathtub that was standing in the back of the bathroom.

You walked up to him and took out a cotton ball and alcohol to clean his wounds. “This may sting” you informed him but he just kept on staring at you nodding absently.

He hissed when you made contact with his wound making you look into his eyes apologizing quietly “sorry”. You went to kiss his cheek softly before turning to the cut on his lip.

JJ kept staring at you completely lost in love. He often found himself staring at you loving every aspect of your body. You quickly finished with all the cuts he had and discarded the now dirty cotton ball.

“Thank you, baby” he said softly while gently grabbing your face to kiss you. The kiss was a loving one not lustful or harsh. You kissed him back careful not to hurt or open the cut on his upper lip.

You slowly pulled away making him whine at the loss of contact. “JJ don’t go back there” you said staring into his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t” he replied making you smile lightly.

You went in for another comforting kiss and another one before deciding to go to sleep.

JJ had his hands comfortably wrapped around you in bed while you were sound asleep he hummed a tune happy to be in the presence of the only person who he knew would always stand behind his back.

[solaarbeeam]

electric touch - kaminari denki x black reader

warnings: none, reader is portrayed as darkskin, usage of Y/N

a/n: guys he’s my favorite (besides shoto) soo here’s a special fic in his honor <33, i lowkey don’t like this but im trying to discipline myself when it comes to writing.

When Kaminari Denki made it to UA, he had a plan to become a heartthrob hero, not unlike Hawks.

His plan was completely thrown off the second he laid his eyes on you.

Rich and deep chocolate skin, brown eyes that nearly made it look black, and an all-white smile with the cutest tooth gems dotting your grin.

He was done for the second he walked in the room. He should’ve known then, but he didn’t.

He’d flirted with a lot of the girls in the class action once they had gotten to after the Sports Festival, but most just took it as jokes or rejected him, to which he calmly bowed out. No need to be an asshole about it, right?

As Jirou made fun of his quirk again, he laid his eyes on you once more. You were scribbling in your notebook, humming to the tune of what he assumed was a Bryson Tiller song, completely in your own little world.

He lost all sorts of common sense when it came to you. How couldn’t he, when you sat at your desk looking like you were the one that hung the moon in the sky?

“Hey, Y/N!”

Okay, he’d gotten your attention, what now? Oh lord, he’s an idiot. How is he supposed to do this? Your tooth gems catch the sunlight, making them gleam in the classroom, and he immediately hooks his eyes on them instead, so as to not come off as rude or creepy.

“Hey Kaminari, what’s up?” Oh my god he could stare at that smile for days. The coils of your hair makes him stare at them rather than look you in the eyes.

He holds his hand out. He mentally slaps himself stupid, because what was he thinking, just holding his hand out like that? Jirou could make fun of him for this all she wants and he wont even blame her, because what the hell?

He really loses all sense of self when he sees a pretty person, especially someone has gorgeous as you.

In response, you put your hand in his and marveled at how warm they were.

Three seconds pass by. Kaminari dies mentally.

He had just electrocuted Y/N L/N, the most beautiful person in existence, all because he can’t control himself or his quirk.

At lunch, he profusely apologizes to you, one because he knows your hair is important to you and if his quirk actually did anything bad to your hair, he’d put himself six feet under before you could.

“You’re honestly lucky my quirk prevents damage, but in all seriousness, it’s cool Kaminari. It was honestly kind of cute seeing you trip out like that.”

You have no idea what you’ve done, Cute? Cute?!?? You officially have Kaminari Denki wrapped around your finger.

They have the Training Camp. He’s stuck with Mr Aizawa for remedials, because he’s a dumbass and you can do no wrong. The villains attack, and you’re apart of the main fight. Your quirk, called Bounce Back, allows you to take damage, store the impact, and push it back out to deliver it back to the opponent. It was a perfect offensive quirk.

Until you, Bakugou, and Jirou get kidnapped by the league. You, because you were fighting Toga with Uraraka and Tsu, Bakugou for conversion reasons, and Jirou because of her scouting abilities and super hearing.

He goes with the team to get you back. He’d never forgive himself if he had the opportunity to do something and he didn’t.

Once they got the three of them out, he ran up to hug you, not caring who looked or who saw.

You hugged him back, just as eagerly and emotion full as he did. He felt whole, he felt complete again, and the feeling of you hugging him back with just as much warmth and intensity gives him hope.

They get dorms. It makes his crush a lot harder on him. For once, Jirou doesn’t laugh and actually helps him.

It was a regular night, a relatively warm one since summer had started. He knocked on your door, sparks literally flying from the tips of his fingers.

‘Do not electrocute them, this’ll be all for nothing if you can’t get it together.’

You open the door, and once he steps in, he’s hit by the smell of cocoa butter and hair products that smell distinctly like you.

“Okay so, Kami, what can I do for you?” You’re taking your hair out, as he can see, with half of your head still in mini-twists.

“Call me Denki?”

“Pffft-“ He feels blood rush to the tips of his ears. He’s already fucked up and he hasn’t even started the segway.

“‘Kay then, Denki, whatcha need?” He’s going to die. He will die here happily here.

You notice his hands are sparking. You coat your hands in a pastel yellow, a tell tale sign of your quirk, and you take the risky move of grabbing his hands.

He practically dies right then and there. You laugh out loud, pressing a kiss to his nose.

“You’re cute, yknow that Denki?”

The mention of his name brings him back to the present. He decides to just go for it instead of doing the whole plan he made with Jirou.

“Y/N, will you be my partner?”

“‘Course I will, I’ve been waiting for you to ask.”

It seems that at the end of the day, when it’s all said and done, you’re the one with the electric touch, and not him.

© solaarbeeam 2024. reposts and translations are not permitted.

[hee0soo]

...and it started with Airpods! - A S[e]oul Story -1-

Pairing — Kim Hongjoong x Foreigner!Reader

Summary — Visiting Seoul had always been your dream, and now that you were there you planned on using every second on exploring. The subway however might have made a lasting impression...

Genre — fluff

Wordcount — 2.1k

AU/Trope Info — Idol!Au, SliceofLifeAu

Warnings — none

Rating — sfw

Disclaimer: this fic is written and copyrighted by ©hee0soo on tumblr. do not rewrite or repost on any other plattforms without my permission.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED!

You weren't sure what you had thought when you booked that flight to Seoul. Nothing probably, at least if your mother had anything to say about it.

"What would you even do once you got there, huh? You don't know anyone, nobody is coming with you and you barely speak the language, so what do you want there?" Is what she had asked when you were over at your parents place for dinner. The slightly raised eyebrow of hers at practically every decision in your life, something you had long learned to ignore, glaring right back at you as you had simply shrugged and continued eating your food.

But now, now that you were here, walking through the streets with Myeongdong with several bags of skincare, souvenirs and a roll of kimbap in your hand, you couldn't care less about what your mother had said. You were simply happy to be where you were now, not one regret clouding your mind as it had done several times in moments where you had been alone in your apartment.

The masses of people that you would have despised on a normal day, suddenly didn't seem so bad besides the occasional man or woman randomly standing in the way.

It was fascination how the change of scenery left you so much more relaxed and happier then at home where your life in comparison seemed dull, boring and lonely. Your work being the same every day, the studies you had started not even in the slightest catching your interest anymore.

Of course you knew that this wasn't going to last longer then just a few days, but for now you simply basked in the feeling of being where your heart had pulled you for so long.

Humming along to the music playing through the speaker that was fastened on the outside of the store you were walking past, you looked up into the night sky as you took a bite from the roll still in your hands. It was already late and you could feel the tiredness settling in your bones, the jet leg weighing you down more then you had ever thought possible as you made your way to the subway station.

Compared to the busy street, the station was surprisingly empty. It was a relief to be honest, giving you the chance to take a short breath without being scared to accidently walk into someone and making a fool out of yourself just as the familiar tune of an incoming train arriving at the station. With hurting feet you dropped on to the nearest empty seat with no intention of getting up before you had to.

You popped your earphones in, the first tunes of your favorite songs filling your ears and making you relax into your seat. Eyes fluttering close as you took a breather alongside the calm rapping of Mingi's Fix off Project. The emotions of the song flooding your tired mind and you didn't even take notice of another passenger sitting himself down next to you.

He busied himself on his own phone, eyes flickering to the side in a hesitant manner. Carefull to stay in his own seat. A mask was covering his face, only showing his dark brown eyes and messy black and white hair.

The subway stopped abruptly at the next station, causing you to lose your balance for just a moment and knocking you into the man next to you. Startled he looked up, spooked eyes staring into yours and you had to stop yourself from reacting.

Dark eyes met y/e/c ones.

“I’m so sorry!” you apologized profusely with a well meant bow to the man who’s face you recogniced even with half of it covered by the mask he was wearing as said mans voice was ringing through your earphones now.

The idol waved you of with gentle bow of his head, eyes sparkling in the light of the subway.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.”

The moment was over as fast as it had come but it was enough to leave your heart racing in excitement. It felt like it was going just as fast as the subway speedibg of to it’s next destination just to come to another stop when the Announcement said that you arrived at Hongik University.

Hongjoong quickly got up with another last glance and bow before exiting the train with fast steps. Knowing that you were close to the KQ building you guessed that he was going to the studio to get some work done.

Only after the doors had closed again did you notice the little airpod case being left behind on the seat Hongjoong had been sitting on. They had to be his, as you were sure that they weren’t there when you had sat down before him. So they had to be his!

Hesitant you reached for the case. What were you supposed to do now?

You couldn’t leave them there. Your consciousness not allowing that, but you also couldn’t keep them.

You rolled it in your palm, noticing the little 8 drawn on it with sharpie surrounded by music notes and it made you smile in amusement. Yeah, they definitly belonged to him.

Releasing a tired sigh, you put the airpods in your pocket just as the announcement of your exit station rang through the speakers of the train.

Walking through the night gave you a sense of calm that you needed to sooth your frazzled mind, the encounter with one of your favorite Idols having left you reeling. And it was only when your head hit the pillow, freshly showered and ready to sleep that you felt your mind calm again.

You looked over to the side where the Airpod case was sitting on a small desk the hotel room provided, right next to your bag you always took with you while exploring Seoul.

They were almost mocking you in a sense, asking you what you were going to do with them now that they were in your posession. It was funny how you let yourself be made fun of by an inanimate object like this while sleep fought to win you over. Your eyes finally closing for the night.

Rushing through the busy subway station of Hongik University you passed through many people. Trying ang sometimes failing to not run into anyone else on your way through Hongdae.

The airpod case seemingly burning a hole into the pocket of your jeans and causeing sweat to collect on the inside of your hands. Sweat that you tried to wipe of every minute or two.

You didn’t know if this was a smart move. You didn’t even know if you would get far enough to execute your plan that you had thought about over breakfast this morning while drinking a cup of orange juice.

After all, you didn’t think KQs staff would willingly let a random person inside their building just because she knocked at their door.

You didn’t think it was a particularly good plan but you couldn’t think of any other way of getting the airpods back to their rightful owner so it was either this, keeping them or gwtting rid of them. Neither of the last two options were something you could agree on so this was it.

Arriving was the easy part, but actually walking up the stair and ringing the door bell, that was a whole different struggle. The people walking past must see you as an idiot as you stood there for some time, looking left and right, hesitating to actually walk up to the building while looking like you would keel over any second until you finally maaged to hype yourself up enough to actually do it.

You felt hot all over. Face burning as you walked through the hallways of the new building KQ used now.

“You’re fine. You can do this.” You exhaled with your finger hovering over the door bell infront of the milky glass door with the giant grey KQ logo on it and with a wave of bravery you pressed down.

For a moment nothing happened until the slender figure of someone appeared behind the milky surface and the door slid to the side.

The woman seemed confused and you couldn’t fault her for it.

“Hello, can I help you with anything? Do you have an appointment?” she spoke with an accent but otherwise clear english.

“Uhm – yeah, hi. No, no ughh appointment I just wanted to give you this?” you said, making it almost sound like a question when you pulled out the Airpods from your pocket and held it out for her to take. Her face furrowed more in confusion, but her eyes brightened in recognition.

“I, met one of your idols yesterday in the subway and uhm- he- he dropped them in the subway while leaving… I didn’t steal them or anything, I promise!” you rushed out to give more context on why you had them in the first place.

“Can you step in for a moment? Follow me to our desk and I will try to get someone who can variefy what you are saying.”

You closed your hand around the case when she didn’t take it, only offering you to come in and follow her. Your heart dropped at the mention of stepping foot inside the company. Nodding you hesitantly came in.

The glass dor slid shut behind you.

“Please wait here by the desk, it will be just a moment.” She said politely, yet didn’t wait for an answer before rushing the other way, leaving you standing there while the woman behind the desk was staring at you with a perfectly plucked eyebrow raised.

“Hi…” you said quietly with a head bow.

She didn’t answer, just looking down again at the papers in front of her.

*Great* you thought at her blatantly ignoring you. Gripping tightly onto the airpods to ground yourself.

Unintelligable whispers reached your ear as the first woman came back with someone.

The two-toned hair was messy on his head just like the night before but he seemed for more rested now than then.

His eyes widened just like yours did at the confrontation you didn’t expect.

“I’m sorry for letting you wait, I just need Hongjoong-ah to confirm if these really are his. Could you ahow them again, please?”

You did. You almost threw the airpods at him, the little 8 and music note visible on the front.

Hongjoong studied them for the moment. His eyes widened at seeing his airpods in your hand and you gave you an almost blinding smile.

“Yes, they mine! You found them?”

You chocked at a nervous, “Yeah! You dropped them in the subway yesterday!”

“Thank you, so much! You were next to me? That was you?”

“That was me, yes.”

Hongjoong reached over the desk, the woman on the other side not sparring either of you a glance as the rapper reached for a pen and paper to scribble something on it.

He handed you the paper when he was finished.

“As a thank you for, Atiny?” he winked with a teasing smile.

Surprised that he knew you froze. “Thank you - ?”

“y/n!”

“y/n…”

Just as you wanted to answer, the woman who had let you inside, cut you off.

“Thank you for bringing those back, now, can I escort you out.” Even phrased as a question you knew that it wasn’t mesnt to be one. She wanted you out, not wanting to risk getting herself or Hongjoong in trouble for letting a stranger inside.

Bowing to the idol as a goodbye, you followed her out. The piece of paper he had given you still in your hands.

You only dared looking at it once you stood back outside, thinking that it might have been his autograph as a thank you, however your heart stopped when you saw the series of numbers written on it.

~Text me? :D~

[love1other]

Safe Word // Sana

Bit of smut, angst, and fluff

WC- 2,750

“Baby, do we have to go?” Sana whines wrapping her arms around you so her front is to your back. 

“I wish we didn’t, but I need to be seen at this event and kiss ass to the up tops if I want this promotion.” 

Sana moves her head so it’s resting on your shoulder and her mouth is next to your ear.

“Are you sure we can’t just stay home?” She mumbles lips brushing your earlobe.

Sana continues, “Seeing you all dressed up is doing stuff to me,” and starts to suck on your earlobe lightly. 

“Baby I really can’t,” you say as Sana continues down to your neck with small open mouth kisses. 

You subconsciously tilt your head to give her better access, despite knowing you can't stay home

——--------

Sana is the true definition of a vixen and she knows it. On top of that, she knows how to exactly get her way even in the bedroom where you're supposed to hold all the control. 

You might be the one telling her what to do but at the end of the day, you both know who’s in control. 

But that’s pretty much all Dom/Sub relationships, well the healthy ones that is. 

The dom takes control in the bedroom, decides what happens, how it happens, and how it ends. But Sana has control over if it continues or not, control of the safeword. 

If the safeword is ever even uttered you stop immediately and make sure your sub is okay. 

Sana has never had to say it during bedroom time but she has gotten close and you felt horrible about it. 

----------

You had had the absolute shittiest day at work, running late and getting scolded by your boss and then having hot coffee spilled over your new white blouse, then again getting yelled at by your boss because of someone else’s fuck up. 

And on top of all that you had your sexy girlfriend sending you damn near nude pics of herself all day stating that she just “wanted your opinion on some new lingerie.” 

Yeah, you were royally pissed and turned on come the end of the day. 

And you took your frustrations out on Sana. 

You probably fucked her on every item at your house that night. But you’d never let her finish. Right as you’d feel her start to clench around your fingers or she’d make that distinct moan that lets you know she’s about to come as you’re thrusting into her with her favorite strap, you’d stop, give her a few minutes to calm down and then immediately go back to it. 

Sana’s least favorite is edging and that’s all you did all night long. 

Towards the end she was a begging crying mess, you could barely understand what was coming out her mouth besides her saying please over and over. 

To be honest, you didn’t mean for it to go on so long, you were so caught up in your own head about the shitty day you had that you just kept going without thinking. 

When you finally came to you had Sana on her back, her legs spread, you between them with your strap going as hard and fast as you could with your hand massaging her clit in tune with your thrusts. 

Your other hand is next to her head holding yourself up. Sana's hand clenching your wrist, in a bruising grip as she begs for you to let her cum. 

You’ve had Sana begging before, but never like this, and you could tell just from these new pleas that you’ve gone too far. 

You could feel her clenching around the strap and her higher than normal pitch moan that let you know she was going to cum and you didn’t stop like you had been all night. You kept going and Sana had possibly one of the most earth-shattering orgasms she's ever had. 

Sana passed out right after it and at first you panicked, she’s never immediately passed out before. But you realized she had to of been exhausted after the edging you had done all night, even you were pretty beat; you cleaned her up before laying down next to her and holding her. 

When she awoke the next day you apologized profusely even calling out of work to give her all the aftercare and affection you could. 

She told you that it was okay, that she was completely okay with it. 

But you weren’t. 

You vowed to never let yourself get lost in your head like that again, that was too much for your Sana. You would have been heartbroken had you made your love safeword. 

Since that night, you’ve been more caring and soft with Sana in the bedroom, scared you’d go overboard like you did last time. 

Unbeknownst to you Sana has been a bit frustrated with the soft and caring approach you’ve had recently. 

Despite the edging being a bit too long she still enjoyed that night very much. You had never been so rough and mean to her before and gods did Sana enjoy it more than she thought she would. 

Something about the way you’d grasp her tightly, and maneuver her into the position you wanted not giving her a chance to comprehend before using her again had her getting wet just thinking about it. 

Gods she just wanted you to be rough with her like that again. Yet you’ve been the complete opposite and she doesn’t know what she could do to get you to be that way with her again. 

That is until she realized she has the perfect opportunity at this event you’ll be attending tonight. 

Sana has a 3 step plan: 

Get Y/n turned out and frustrated before going. ✓

Flirt with another for Y/n to see.

Y/n gets angry, takes Sana home, and fucks her roughly 

Step one is already complete, now on to steps 2 and 3.

—--------------------

The event is very classy, with everyone dressed to the nines, and fancy caterers walking around offering drinks and hors-d’oeuvres. Even a hosted bar with endless drinks. 

But despite all the fanciness, it was still boring.

Y/n tried to stay with Sana as long as she could, feeling bad for even having to come and dragging Sana along, but alas she had to go and kiss ass to her bosses boss.

Y/n leaves Sana at the bar with a soft kiss on her temple and a promise to be back soon. 

Shortly after having sat down on the bar stool and ordering a drink, a woman sits beside Sana. 

Sana can’t deny that she’s a beautiful woman. 

The woman waves down the bartender and orders herself a drink, “I’ll have a dry martini, and another of whatever the gorgeous lady next to me is having.” 

‘Ahh so not just a beautiful woman but a confident one too. Seems I found someone to help me make my Y/n angry.’ Sana thinks giving the woman a flirty smile after making sure Y/n is going to be able to see Sana, and of course she is. 

The few times they’ve gone to events like this and Y/n has had to leave Sana to talk to others, she always makes sure to position herself so she can see Sana at all times. 

Sana loves that Y/n is always looking out for her, she also especially loves it as it helps her plans tremendously.

—----------

Sana continues to openly flirt with the woman every time she sees Y/n look her way, which has been more often.

“I see you’re drinking wine, you should join me back to my place, I have an exquisite collection that I’m certain you’ll appreciate, among other things.” The woman states moving closer to Sana. 

One thing Sana learned about this woman is not only is she confident, she's also horribly arrogant, and had Sana not needed this woman to make Y/n angry she would have left long ago. 

But seems I won't have to be in this woman's presence much longer as Y/n is making her way over with clenched fists. 

Y/n is glaring at the woman as she gets close and places her arm around my waist pulling me to her. 

Gods I’m so giddy, Y/n is so angry that she’s shaking. 

“Why hello Y/n, it’s been a while hasn’t it?” 

“Come on Sana we’ve got to go,” Y/n says not paying the woman any attention. 

Sana, a bit confused about how the woman knows Y/n but still wanting to push Y/n a bit more decides to put up a bit of a fuss about leaving. 

“Aww but baby I’ve just found some good company to talk to, she’s even invited me back to hers to see her wine collection.” 

“It’s not any b-better than the wine collection we have back home,” Y/n states with a stutter causing Sana to pause. 

Y/n hasn’t stuttered since they first met, and about three months into their relationship it went away entirely. 

Is Y/n really that angry that she’s stuttering again? 

Sana confused looks up at Y/n to see her already staring at her with a look that Sana can’t decipher. 

“We’ll I’m sure this beautiful lady here can make that decision on her own don’t ya think Y/n?” The woman says reaching over and placing her hand on Sana's arm. 

“No one a-asked you, now come on Sana.” 

Sana doesn't particularly like the way this woman is saying Y/n name in such a taunting manner but seeing how angry it's making her she lets it be and has one more go at pushing her lover before leaving by not removing the woman's hand from her arm like her instincts tell her to.

“Yeah baby, her wine collection sounds like it’s a lot better than ours. I could go just for a little while to see it?” Sana asks looking at Y/n again while fluttering her eyes. Knowing this will push Y/n over the edge. 

Y/n stares at Sana with that same look in her eye, before leaning in, her lips to Sana's ear. 

“Red.” 

Sana goes completely still. Red? Like red is how absolutely angry she is? 

Sana leans back and looks at Y/n with confusion and goes to question her but stops as she sees tears in the corner of her eyes. 

Red as in our safeword Sana realizes in horror. Has she been misreading all of Y/n’s signs? 

Oh gods the look in her eye and her shaking is not anger but fear? 

Y/n stops their staring contest and turns around to leave, her right hand grasping Sanas' left to pull her along. 

Sana goes to join but is pulled to a stop at a tug of her right arm that the woman still has a hold of. 

“Now come on honey, you’ll just be disappointed with this one, she’s horrible in bed.” The woman states with a condescending voice. 

Who does this bitch think she is talking about her Y/n like that? Sana thinks ripping her arm away from the woman. 

Before Sana can go off on this condescending bitch she’s stopped by a gentle tug on her wrist “Please Sana, let’s just go.” Whispers Y/n. 

Sana not wanting to upset Y/n more than she already has nods, grasps her hand tighter, and pulls them away from the woman, but not before throwing the bitch a glare over her shoulder. 

Y/n is still lightly trembling as they grab their coats and make it outside to their Uber, neither of them saying a word. 

Gods Sana fucked up; she’s never seen Y/n this withdrawn before. 

Just who the fuck was that woman? 

———-

They make it home and to their bedroom and dress down from the event. 

“Baby?” Sana questions walking out of the bathroom and seeing Y/n sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at her hands. 

Y/n doesn't acknowledge her, prompting Sana to inch closer, kneel in front of Y/n and gently take her hands in her own.

“Baby look at me,” Sana pleads causing Y/n to look up with glossy eyes. 

Sana's heart breaks, she’s only seen Y/n cry once before and it was during a sad movie. But to see her now trying to hold back tears because of something Sana did makes her feel absolutely horrible. 

“I’m sor-” Y/n starts but Sana cuts her off. “You have nothing to apologize for, I’m the one who’s sorry.” 

Sana reaches up and wipes a tear that had escaped, then cups Y/n's face in both hands. “Gods I’m so sorry for how I acted and for making you cry.” 

Y/n turns her face and gives Sana’s palm a light kiss, “It’s not you honey, it’s her that made me so upset.” 

“Who is she?” Sana questions.

“She is Monica, we used to date and had a relationship a lot like ours, except she was the domme and I was the submissive, and she liked being a domme in more ways than just the bedroom.” 

Y/n continues 

“She wasn’t a good domme, very mentally and borderline physically abusive, especially in the bedroom. But I stayed as she had me believing I deserved it.” 

Sana leans up and kisses Y/n on the forehead to comfort her. 

“I- she didn’t really believe in the safeword; instead of red meaning stop it just meant slow down and her telling me I need to be a “good girl and toughen up,” but one day she- she went way too far,” Y/n sucks in a deep breath, “When I got back to mine I broke up with her, changed my number and moved two districts away” 

“She made me dislike being submissive, to trusting someone while being so raw and open for them to treat you so horribly and not let them have the one control they could rely on during those situations.” Yn shivers slightly, “It just does a number on you.”

“Tonight was the first time I’ve seen her in almost 2 years, and seeing her with you flirting, I panicked.” Y/n finishes.

“Gods baby I’m so sorry, I wasn’t actually flirting with her, I was just doing it for you to see and get angry with me.” 

Y/n looks up confused, “Why do you want me angry at you?”

“Because I like it when you’re mean and rough with me and you only seem to get that way when you’re angry.” Sana continues a bit sheepishly.

“That night a couple of weeks ago when you came home all angry and just took your frustrations out on me, despite the edging going on for a bit too long, was one of the best orgasms I've had and it was because you were being so rough.” 

Sana reaches forward and clasps Y/n hands once more. “And since that night you’ve been so caring, and it's not that I don’t like when you're caring, I just want you to be a bit rough with me too, but it's like since that night you've been scared to.” 

“I kinda have been.” 

“Why?” 

“I didn't mean for the edging to go on for so long, I had got lost in my own head and wasn't fully paying attention to you. At the end you looked so unsatisfied and very close to using the safeword,” Y/n breaks eye contact and glances down at our hands. 

“I don't ever want to go too far and you to use the safeword, and I feel like I've failed by getting you so close to saying it that night.” 

“Oh baby, yes the edging was a bit too long for my full liking, but I trust you.”

Y/n looks up meeting Sana’s eyes.“Still?” Sana gives a gentle smile, “Always.” 

“Do you trust me?” Sana asks.

“Of course!” 

“Then trust me and let me show you how that fake domme was supposed to treat you.” 

Sana leans up on her knees and kisses Y/n softly. 

“No need for a safeword, if you say stop we stop,” Sana runs her hands up Y/n arms to her shoulders, to then rest around her neck. “Okay?” 

“Okay,” Y/n agrees while staring at Sana’s lips, which stretch into a seductive smirk. 

“Good, now get undressed for me baby girl, you've been driving me crazy all day.”

End   

[moodymisty]

So I'm suffering from life threatening levels of Perturabo brainrot and got a lil scenario idea stuck in my head while I was taking a shower: One of the serfs that does mundane housekeeping tasks throws all self-preservation aside when a curious little contraption Perty made catches her attention while she's tidying his quarters. It's a harmless trinket he made in his spare time, a clever little puzzle box, and she can't resist the urge to get a closer look.. Cue Perturabo catching her touching things she shouldn't be touching. He feels a flash of anger, but its quickly doused by the look of genuine wonder and awe at something he made simply as a mundane time-waster between campaigns. When she notices him in the doorway staring(glaring) at her, it's like being doused in ice water and she hurriedly sets the trinket down and apologizes profusely as she scurries away. Over the next few weeks, Serf quietly fears for her life due to her impropriety.. While Perty decides he wants to see that look again and sets about making a little courting gift - a music box that plays a lullaby/tune that is popular on Olympia.

Sorry if this is way too specific, you can change whatever you'd like about it to fit your tastes!

PS: I love your writing style so, so, much. Thank you for all you've created and shared with us 💕

Author's note: I like the idea! I changed it a teeeny tiny bit, but only because I didn't want it to run on into a massive block of text. Enjoy, here's some Perty meetcute.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!reader

Warnings: Not really any other than Perturabo's attitude

Returning to his private workshop Perturabo can tell by the door being slightly ajar that someone is inside cleaning it, and opens it fully to let himself in. Out of his armor he's wrapped up in clothing more suitable for the cool evening, walking underneath the dimmed lights.

He's always hated bright rooms; The few windows in this room provide enough sunlight during the day to work, and at night to keep it bright enough to work but dim enough to avoid a headache.

Not long after entering he notices your form in the corner, picking something up off the floor. He pays no mind and walks past, completely ignoring your presence other than that momentary glance. He's seen you before; You're usually the one cleaning the innermost parts of his chambers like this workshop. Perhaps you're the only one brave enough, and the only one that hasn't gotten thrown out for being in his way.

Sitting down the chair creaks in complaint but he ignores it, leaning forward over his desk. For awhile he simply glosses over his designs, old and new blueprints with a lack of interest, before his eyes wander away from it all. They're all just improvements for already existing war machines, nothing that keeps his attention for long.

He sees you now working on cleaning an area close to where some of his smaller projects are sitting, collecting dust, but he can tell as you clean one in particular has caught your eye.

It's the old puzzle box he had made when he was far younger; It's simplicity makes him scoff now in shame of his less experienced hands so long ago. Though even then, it far exceeded what anyone on Olympia could dream of making. Perhaps that's why it caught your eye, a stand out among little automatas, music boxes and miniatures.

He sees you looking at it, curiously gazing over the pieces that interlock together. It seems like you're trying to figure it out in your head rather than picking it up and risk his anger. You don't notice his gaze on you, his brow still furrowed but not in anger- deep set eyes hooded in lazy curiosity.

Once you either give up trying to figure it out or realize you need to return to your work you turn away from the box, but your sleeve accidentally catches on the sharp edge of the metal. It shifts and falls off the table, thinking that you're moving it as if attempting to solve it. You uncharacteristically swear, and snatch the box out of the air before it hits the ground.

You look at Perturabo momentarily and see him watching you, and he can see you swallow the knot in your throat. Your back straightens as you look away and towards the puzzle box in your hands, fingers brushing over it as you make sure it's unharmed.

With a grunt of effort Perturabo gets up out of his chair, and he sees you noticeably freeze up at the fear of his approach.

"You're supposed to turn it."

You look up at him surprised for a moment, before looking down at the box again. It's large in your hands, he'd scaled it for his own, but you're still able to fiddle with the mechanisms with little issue. He watches your eyebrows raise as you gain understanding.

"Oh, I see."

He hears the soft clink of one of the mechanisms inside unlocking- he knows there's four left. Your eyes are locked on it trying to figure out the system, and he can see you're making progress, faster than he might've expected you to. He doesn't stop you because of it; He's curious how far you can get.

You stop about halfway to figuring out the next part, and slowly go to place it back onto the shelf where it had been collecting dust.

"I think this would take me quite awhile to s-" Perturabo jerks his chin slightly towards you.

"Keep it."

You look at him wide eyed, and pull back from the shelf to continue holding it in your hands.

"It stopped amusing me long ago."

You thanked him for it, with a soft and sweet smile that made his nose wrinkle, and you got little more than a grunt in response before you finished your duties and left him in silence.

You returned the finished box to him three days later, opened. Perturabo, amused by it, had plucked another puzzle box he'd made in one of his moments of particularly sour moue off a high shelf, and handed that one to you. You'd returned it six days later, solved.

You had detoured from your assigned tasks to return it to him, and left shortly there after. Your hands had barely closed the door behind him before he pulled out a fresh piece of parchment and started to draft a new one, the first he'd be making in many years, something finally keeping his mind busy as he glossed over his old and forgotten creation to make this new one.

He had noticed your tiny fingerprints on the metal one time he'd looked up, pen stopping for a moment as he stared at them before returning to his work.

He's not here today, you notice.

The workshop is empty, though you aren't entirely surprised. The Iron Blood left port this last week, and you assume Perturabo went along with it.

What is surprising is that quite quickly you notice that there's something set out on his desk, in clear view. There's parchment being weighed down by it and you can't help but take a look, having to near climb from how high the tabletop is.

It's yet another puzzle box, you quickly realize. You pull the parchment with it and read the few words at the center of it.

This one should keep you entertained for awhile.

That's all it says, sitting the parchment back down and turning your full attention to the box instead.

It's significantly more ornate than any of the previous ones he'd given you, and still smells of oils and greases presumably from it's recent creation. The puzzle itself seems far more in-depth than the previous ones as well, and you can't help but smile at the realization that he's trying to stump you on purpose. Your fingertips brush over the etchings of symbols and the decorative grooves; He clearly spent a lot of time on this one.

You hold it close before sitting it down, and get to work cleaning. You keep a consistent schedule in this room so there isn't much to be done, and once you finish you're able to take the puzzle box back to your personal quarters and begin figuring it out.

Perturabo seemed to spare no expense in figuring out how to make this one more difficult, having to do puzzles to figure out parts of another puzzle. It takes you well over three weeks to figure out, slowly working at it between your work.

Once you crack it open, you're so excited you barely even realize there's something inside, pulling out the folded parchment. When you unfold it, you notice something that falls into your lap. A necklace.

You weren't exactly allowed to wear jewelry, it got in the way, but you suppose if it came from Lord Perturabo, none of your superiors could complain.

Putting the necklace around your neck you read the words on the parchment, pursing your lips. Your cheeks feel slightly warmer as well, realizing that you're holding something the primarch crafted specifically for you, and now you have not one, but two handwritten letters from him.

Perhaps they're quite short letters, but you count them anyways. Lord Perturabo has never been the wordy sort.

Meet me in my workshop the day the Iron Blood returns to port.

You wonder if Perturabo has always been this roundabout and obtuse. Or if he's for some reason toying with your odd knack for puzzles. You suppose he's bored, he seems to have plans for abandoned ideas all around his workshop. Bathhouses and ornate buildings, unfinished and pushed aside for efficient weapons of war.

You're glad you managed to open it before the Iron Blood returned, but just barely; Two days later is when it- he, returns, and you meet him in his workshop.

He turns to you, wearing lighter clothing given the warm weather. The sun is just starting to set however, the sky turning orange and purple. You notice he's grown a slight bit of stubble on his jawline since returning, and that his expression is surprisingly relaxed.

"How long did it take you?"

He says with not even a hello. Though you suppose you don't really need one.

"I finished it two nights ago. Just barely made it, it seems." He chuckles, much to your surprise. It's a deep rumble you can feel in your chest, and makes you swallow at the feeling of your heartbeat up in your collarbone.

"It seems they'll need to be even more complicated in order to slow you."

You notice his eyes look away from your face and down to your collarbone. The necklace is what caught his eye, you can only guess. you've been wearing it nonstop since you got it. His hand reaches down to grasp the pendant that hangs from it between his two fingers, before he lets it go moments later.

You wonder if perhaps it meant something a bit deeper than what you'd thought at first glance. He wouldn't just give out such ornately made things for no reason. Your face grows a bit warm at the sudden realization that you'd completely overlooked the implication of a man, a primarch, giving such a gift to a woman, but Perturabo either doesn't notice, or doesn't care.

"Sit with me. And tell me your name."

There's a chair beside his own that is similar in size to his own, though vastly oversized for you. You sit down in it and pull your legs up onto the chair and curl them to your side. Then you put your hands on your lap and look towards him and start talking, beginning into a conversation that leads well into the night.

[lilacwisps]

How about rating HL (Sebastian, Ominis, Garreth, others if you'd like) boys' pull out game when they are having fun times with MC? Assuming everyone is of age, ofc.

Late-night nonnies are always fun. Here you go 💜 (under cut for obvious reasons)

Sebastian: 

5/10

Can he do it? Absolutely. Sebastian's quite in tune with his own and MC's body, so if he wanted to pull out at the right time, he totally could. 

Will he do it? Well, he might...or he might not. 

The thing about Sebastian is that he's quite possessive - and few things scratch that possessive itch quite like finishing inside MC. Any time he spills inside her, MC feels so utterly and irrevocably his, and to Sebastian, that's a very tempting and addictive feeling - and one he gives in to quite often. 

Besides, a part of him that Sebastian does his best to ignore yearns to see MC pregnant with his child, which doesn't help his pull-out game efficiency at all.

Ominis: 

Very good, 9/10

Given his family history and pedigree, Ominis is rather terrified of having children, so when it comes to pulling out, he's extremely prudent. 

So prudent, in fact, that sometimes he does it a little too early - not that MC's complaining, of course, as the sight of him flushed and whimpering as he touches himself to completion is quite the treat. It's even more of a treat - for both Ominis and MC - whenever she decides to help him out. 

Ominis is good at not getting carried away, but he still gets a point deducted because, despite all of his reservations, whenever he hears MC whimper and beg for him to finish inside, he can't help but give in to her. 

Garreth: 

2/10, sorry, not sorry. 

Must run in the family, to be honest, with the number of children the Weasleys have.

Garreth's a sweetheart, and he really tries to pull out but fails almost every time. The feeling of being inside MC is so good it's completely overwhelming, and Garreth gets completely lost in the sensations, and by the time he can think straight again, it's usually too late. He just can't help it. 

When he realizes that he'd messed up, he blushes prettily and apologizes profusely, offering to help MC clean up and looking at her with the kind of eyes that make it impossible to stay mad at him for long. 

If MC asks him to finish inside, oh, this boy can now die happy. 

[gigi-the-writer]

HELLO GIGI! How are you?? Hope you're having a great night.🙃

May you do the crew (Demencia, Dr Flug and Black Hat) reacting to them accidentally making their s/o cry? (Feel free to delete if the request make your uncomfortable!)

Have fun writing!

Well this’ll be interesting!

FLUG:

Accidentally making his s/o cry breaks his heart, kind of. Flug, in the beginning of your relationship, may be emotionally unavailable. Again, this is only in the beginning of the relationship or it may last a little longer, depending on your personality as well. Another scenario, if it’s in front of blackhat (assuming you’re hiding your relationship which canonically, you most likely are because blackhat won’t tolerate that shit lol) he’ll brush it off, but behind closed doors he’ll apologize profusely.

If you’re the type to hold a grudge it’ll only put your relationship at risk even more (including other problems but I’ll get into that in a separate post) Flug is already pretty insecure, and having you not respond to and even ignore him stresses him out.

DEMENCIA:

Demencia is interesting to say the least. I’d say she’s the most in tune with your emotions, as she is obsessed with whatever special someone she finds. So she pays attention to everything.

She’s awkward about it though, I headcanon that she ignores her bad feelings and uses her fists to cope if ‘needed’. She focuses on the bright side, despite the fact that her version of ‘bright side’ is pretty twisted.

She won’t apologize outright, but she’ll provide you with distractions or other gifts as an indirect apology.

BLACKHAT:

I think we all know where this is going. BlackHat is an unapologetic creature, I doubt he’d even be able to feel sympathy if he’d want to. He doesn’t apologize, doesn’t accommodate, in fact he may even mock you or make fun of your emotions. A relationship with BlackHat is unhealthy in so many ways, he refuses to admit he’s in the wrong, and invalidates your feelings. That’s really all there is to say on this subject.

[illicitlimerence-writes]

a love story | m. schumacher

pairing: mick schumacher x reader word count: 3.4k words request: nopewarnings: fluuuuuuff and maybe some angst? kinda? this was inspired by a dream i had last night 🫣 a/n: me? actually posting something? no way!

my masterlist 

(i'm so proud of my boy but honestly wtf did they put in the water during roc they were all INSANE)

the gray clouds looked threatening, they covered the sky completely, leaving the sun nowhere to be found. it was a cold morning, with the crisp air causing the curtains of her bedroom to dance, even if her window was open just a tad bit. she usually loved days like this, being bundled up in a cable knit sweater, watching the raindrops hitting the windows as soft music played in the background, a cup of warm tea in her hands and a good book on her lap. 

but those days were usually accompanied by a warm embrace around her shoulders, a hard chest allowing her to rest her back against it, soft lips grazing her neck, her cheeks and lips. 

today was not one of those days, for he was not with her, but hours and miles away. after years of being with him, she still couldn’t get used to the idea of him being gone. but she couldn’t be selfish, she had to support him and his dreams as much as he did for hers. 

just two more days.

she started her morning as usual. shower, get dressed, light makeup, brush her hair, make breakfast and grab the lunch she made the previous night before leaving her apartment and going to work. 

the small book shop downtown sat peacefully, waiting with its pastel yellow walls for customers to arrive. she ate her breakfast as she sat on the bus on her way there, a simple bagel with cream cheese and jam bought from the farmer’s market. she finished just in time for her to skip down the bus steps and onto the streetwalk. 

she did her usual routine to open the book shop, like picking a quote from a book to write on the chalkboard wall by the kids’ section, checking that everything was in its right place, collecting the flowers from the shop next door, to brighten up the place. she was so lucky she found that spot for her book shop, with a café on one side, a flower shop on the other, it was quite possibly the perfect combination. every so often she’d receive customers with a coffee cup in their hands, looking for a book to enjoy while relaxing from the day. or people looking for a book as a gift, having already bought a bouquet of flowers. 

once the clock turned its hands to tell her it was 9:00 am, she turned the lock on the door and flipped the sign that hung from it, now reading ‘open’. 

it was a quiet morning, the rain started around an hour after opening and just picked up from there, with the winds picking up strength as well. she couldn’t spot a soul out there, the town she called home was a ghost town, everyone much preferred staying home than going out.

she wished she’d done so as well, that rest of the day was probably going to be just as slow as the morning. 

but a few hours after midday, a young couple entered the book shop. they apologized profusely as they dried their shoes on the carpet she’d placed especially for that. 

she smiled at them, waving their worries away as she informed them they could hang their jackets on the coat rack to dry and avoid making a mess. they thanked her, and she noticed how he was the first to reach for his girlfriend’s hand after having to separate to take off their jackets. she watched them walk further into the shop, and she grabbed her phone, opening the music app and changing the preloaded queue, adding a few soft, romantic tunes that fit well with the ambiance of the day, the bookshop, and the couple. songs that reminded her of him. 

book shops had always been a special place for her, she could get lost for hours on end, reading the back cover of paperback books, running her fingers along the hardcover spines, sighing over beautiful covers and sprayed edges. but especially, she loved book shops because that’s where she met him. 

she was in college, longing for ways to escape the real world. books provided just that, a chance to get lost in fictional places, with words that described endless possibilities and worlds where everything was possible. 

the local bookstore was her most frequented place, the owners and workers knew her and trusted her, they knew that the books she took were safe and that she’d take care of them as if they were the most delicate rose petals. 

she sat on a velvet sofa, her favorite. it fit two people, but she always claimed it as hers, and no one ever bothered her. not even on that day, when all the other available seats were taken. she was reading a poetry book. she had a lot on her mind and needed something that was quick to read and kept her mind occupied. she had her legs crossed beneath her, the book on one hand as she rested her head on the other. her eyes scanned the pages quickly, re-reading verses that caught her attention and often writing them down in her own notebook. she never was a fan of writing on books, but did like taking notes and scribbling down her thoughts. 

her quiet peace was interrupted by a tall body standing in front of her. 

“sorry-” she looked up, seeing blue eyes looking down at her. “is this seat taken? all the other chairs are busy and i- i haven’t seen anyone here, so-”

“yeah, it’s okay,” she answered, grabbing her bag and placing it on the floor beneath her.

“thank you,” he smiled at her as he sat, she did the same, returning to her book.

they didn’t speak more that day, he only thanked her again and said goodbye when he was ready to leave. he looked about her age, and she found herself staring at his frame as he left, with his back toward her. 

two days later, he was there again. he had the same book he was reading the previous time, whilst she had already finished her poetry book and was now reading a classic tragedy. the routine was the same, none of them talking, simply sitting next to each other as they read and saying goodbye when it was their time to leave. unfortunately, she couldn’t go the rest of the week because of school work, but finally, after a hard week, she walked through the doors, breathing in the familiar scent of ink and pages. she walked straight to her spot, stopping in her tracks as she saw the same guy sitting there already, his backpack on her side of the sofa. he looked up, a smile on his face.

“you’re back,” he said, grabbing his bag and placing it on the floor, like she’d done for him that very first day. she smiled, unable to stop a light flush to rush to her cheeks as she walked to him.

“yeah, school was being a pain,” she said, dropping down beside him. 

“well, i’m happy to see you again,” he placed a bookmark between the pages he was reading, closing the book to pay attention to her.

“thanks, i missed being here. this place… it’s like a home away from home.”

“i get it, i only found out about this place a week ago and felt an instant connection, and i’m not an avid reader. or, i wasn’t before coming here for the first time.” 

she smiled, nodding her head, that was exactly how she felt.

“i’m mick, by the way,” he offered his hand. she sat up, shaking his hand. she told him her name, and looked down at the book he was reading.

“the great gatsby?” 

“yeah, i saw you reading it last week and… you seemed so lost in the book and the pages, you gasped and your eyes widened every so often… you made me want to read it,” he spoke, hoping he didn’t sound like a creep. but he was an observant person, he noticed things. 

“oh,” was all she said, crossing her legs beneath her, a position she often found herself in, it was comfortable and meant she was at ease. “and what do you think?” she asked, looking down at the way his fingers delicately tapped the cover of the book. 

“it’s really good,” he chuckled, nodding his head to confirm his words. “i’d seen the movie but-”

“it doesn’t compare. it’s a good adaptation but… it’s not the same,” 

“yeah,” he agreed. 

and then he asked her a question, she answered. then she did, and he answered. and the hours passed but neither of them read the books, they got to know each other, talking and laughing and confessing their favorite tropes, books and even discussing their different stands on a controversial topic in one of their favorite books.

before they knew it, the day turned to night and the owners started getting ready to close the shop. she looked around, noticing they were the only two customers there. 

“i’m guessing that’s our cue to leave,” she said, chuckling softly, but didn’t stand up.

“oh- yeah,” he replied, playing with the edges of his book. they both stood up, walking to the exit. she said goodbye to the owners, waving her hand.

“see you tomorrow,” she told them, the words she said every night. “i guess i’ll- see you tomorrow, too,” she smiled.

“yeah, i’d like that.”

“okay. good night,” she said, looking straight at him as she took a step back. 

“good night.” he nodded his head, walking backward too, the other way. 

after that day their afternoons were spent getting wrapped up in sentences, verses, rhymes, the times new roman font, and each other. they’d walk along the shelves, point to books they’d already read, book they recommended to each other, and books they promised to read together. at one point as the days passed, the distance between them disappeared, they now sat side by side, leaning into each other to read from the same book. other times, one of them would read aloud while the other stared at the ceiling, or at the person reading.

the bookstore was witness to their first meeting, the time they exchanged numbers, their first real goodbye… their first kiss.

their first goodbye. he explained that besides books, his biggest passion in life was racing. he explained the extent of his rising career, the stakes and responsibilities that came with it. and how he’d have to leave several weeks of the year. she remained quiet, taking in his words, understanding that his life was so different from hers. their first goodbye included soft smiles, a gentle touch of hands, a hug that neither of them wanted to end, and a tear streaming down her face as she turned her back to him as she walked away. 

their first kiss happened two weeks later. two long weeks he’d been gone, and even though they could count on technology, it wasn’t the same as having him sitting next to her, feeling his warmth and hearing his laugh echoing through the wooden walls of their little nook in the bookshop. mick arrived unannounced, saying hi to the people behind the counter, asking for her. he walked to their spot, seeing her belongings there, but not her. he walked down the long corridor, one shelf after the other, and finally spotted her, leaning against the wall, book covering her face. 

"the great gatsby?" he asked. she dropped the book, looking up at him as a smile broke on her face. 

"you're here!" she got up, leaving the book forgotten on the floor as she flung herself towards him. "how are you? how did it go?" she said as she threw her arms around his neck. he wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her close against him. 

"it was good, but i don't want to talk about that right now," he replied, putting her down, but she still kept her arms on his neck, he kept his hold of her waist. "you're re-reading the great gatsby already?" he raised an eyebrow.

"yeah, i… this was the first book you read because you saw me, and we started talking because of this book. it's… special." 

"that feels so long ago," he said, turning so he had his back against the tall shelf. 

"a month and a half." 

"hmm…" he smiled, "and what have you been up to these past weeks?" he asked. 

"oh! i found the perfect greek mythology retelling, it's about hades and persephone, and all of their struggles, and he loves her so much, it's so beautifully written and-" her rambling was cut short by a pair of soft lips on hers. 

it was soft and slow and tender and so delicate, he moved his lips against hers as if they were a sugar cube that could break with the wrong movement. she was left breathless as he fully circled her middle with his arms, turning them so her back was against the hard wooden shelves. 

their first kiss was perfect. there was no other way to describe it. it was shared in the place that had a special meaning for both of them, they were both eager and devoted to the kiss, not wanting it to end, loving the feeling, the rushing heartbeats and flushing cheeks, the shivers and goosebumps after a particular sensitive touch, it was magical, and no words could ever even begin to describe it. 

they'd try to find poems, verses, lines, paragraphs that could put into words everything they felt at that moment, but nothing could ever come close to fully capture the electrifying energy that surrounded them. 

and five years later, after endless kisses, touches, intimate moments, book after book, their love only grew larger and larger, deeper and deeper, an undeniable and undefiable connection that could overcome everything. 

but sometimes that was easier said than done, and as she stared at the young couple, that reminded her so much of them, she couldn't help but wish he was there. she never said it, she didn't want to make him feel bad, but everytime he walked out the door was hard on her. he was her rock, the one person she could count on to always be there for her. and sometimes all she wanted was him. just his presence made her feel at ease. 

and especially in slow days like this, when her mind was left free to wander and think endlessly, she couldn't help but wish she could just wrap her arms around him and keep him close forever. he was so kind, so gentle with her, everything she longed for in a partner and so much more, traits that only made sense because of him. 

but she powered through it, picking a high fantasy novel to keep her mind busy, building the images on her head and creating the characters she was reading about. every so often her eyes would find the couple, sharing kisses and giggles as they scanned the books. 

maybe that was the magic of bookshops, the chance to escape the real, rainy world outside and be consumed by the endless possibilities the stories inside had to offer. 

once the rain died down, the couple left, they bought a couple of books and she dropped a couple of bookmarks in their bag as a gift. the rest of the day was the same, with only two or three more customers arriving and leaving quickly, not wanting to get caught under the rain once it started again. 

with about an hour left until closing time, she decided it was enough. she highly doubted anyone else was coming anytime soon. so she flipped the sign on the door, locking it as she began to clean up. the playlist had finished playing, and the only sounds were that of her footsteps. 

until a knock on the door startled her. she could only make out a tall body, head covered by the black hood of a jacket, her immediate stranger danger siren went off in her head, but she still approached the door, grabbing the nearest thing she could find as a weapon.

a hardcover copy of les mis.

she unlocked the door, opening it just wide enough for her to peek her head forward.

"sorry, we're closing early because of the weather." she explained, hands clutching the book against her chest.

"really? i wanted to buy that new emily henry book," the man said, looking up at her with a smile on his face.

"mick!" she said, dropping the copy of the french novel and skipping down the few steps leading up to the shop. she wrapped her legs around him, hands over his neck, pulling him close.

"get inside! you're not wearing a jacket," he laughed, walking with her on top of him. "it's nice to see your habit of dropping books when i stop by unannounced hasn't gone away." 

"i've missed you so much," she said, keeping her face buried in his neck. "all day… all i wanted to do was be near you." she mumbled against his skin, feeling him walking with her in his arms.

"i'm here now," he placed her on the counter, beside the cash register, and softly placed his hands on her face, leaning back to look at her. he tilted her chin up, getting lost in her eyes.

"you're here." she whispered, her fingers playing with his hair. "how are you here?" she asked.

"got done early. took a flight. i was going to wait for you at home but… i wanted to see you. i missed you too much." she smiled at his words, feeling butterflies in her stomach as he ticked a strand of hair behind her ear. even after so many years together, he still made her feel like they were falling in love for the first time all over again. 

"how was everything?" she asked, tentatively. she knew that sometimes he wasn't in the mood to talk about his job, he liked leaving racing on the paddock and just enjoy their time together.

"good, talks about next year are going well," he said, squeezing her hips. she smiled, knowing how much he deserved a seat on the f1 grid. 

"i'm happy to hear that. did you get any reading done?" she asked, changing the subject. 

"finished 'little women', started 'circe'."

"ooh, you really want to complete your reading challenge this year, don't you?"

"i only have two books left." he smiled, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

"well done, my love!" she said, kissing his cheek, too. 

"and you? how many books did you finish?"

"night circus and i'm halfway through anna karenina."

"a big book?" he raised his eyebrows. "i'm proud of you, baby."

"thanks," she blushed under his stare, her hands finding his, locking their fingers together. 

her eyes met his, soft smiles painted on their lips, chests rising up and down in sync. he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against hers softly. he rubbed his nose against hers, then placed his lips on top of hers. 

the first kiss after a goodbye was always a special one. there was so much longing, love and pure emotion poured into a reunion kiss, it always brought them back to their very first kiss shared a few moons ago. 

the first kiss after a goodbye always left her breathless after. it was like her body was getting used to having him close again, and no matter how many times they said goodbye and hello, it always felt like the first time. 

"what do you think about going home… turn on the fireplace, make hot cocoa, and read a good book?" he suggested.

"i'd love that," she smiled against his lips, leaning forward once more. "what are you in the mood for?"

"hmm… a love story?" he raised an eyebrow.

she nodded, pushing him back to jump off the counter. she held his hand and led him to the first book that crossed her mind.

"how about a tragic love story?" she said, grabbing a copy of the blue paperback book. "quite possibly the greatest love story," she teased.

"impossible. ours is way better," mick said, grabbing the copy of 'the great gatsby' and holding her hand.

and he was right. 

out of all the stories she'd read, theirs was her favorite one. and the best part was, it wasn't fictional, and more importantly, it didn't have to end. 

-- take a shot each time you read the word 'book'

[faerievampling]

Killing Time

Chapter 18: A Fresh Start

word count: 5.6k

pairing: Ascended Astarion x Vampire Tav (Female Reader)

Warnings: 18+. Mention of past SA. Mentions of sex. Graphic Violence.

Link to Ao3 | Killing Time M.List

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The spawn army is exactly what you expected: nearly a hundred spawn, so many ruby eyes glowing far more than they should. They seem to recognize you, having seen your portrait throughout the palace, eyeing you curiously as you ease your way into the dungeons. You haven’t seen Astarion since your fight early this morning, despite all the wandering you’ve done.

“You’re not supposed to be here, my Lady,” One of the spawn calls to you.

“What’re you gonna do about it?” You ask, cocking your head as you leer at the spawn. 

“Nothing, mistress, but we’ve informed the Master.” 

“Whatever. I only came down here to see his project,” You explain, crossing your arms. You wore a fitted cotton shirt, leather padding with elegant, gold stitching gracing your shoulders and elbows. Your trousers are comfortable cotton and leather – you had wanted something casual but protective, thinking that you’re hoping to spar with a few of the githyanki, maybe the spawn if they agreed to it…

And who were they to deny you?

Smack. Smack. Thunk!

Ygritte dodges your attack just before smashing your wooden gaive into her side – but your strength overcomes, snapping your weapon in half.

“C’mon Tav!” Zi’rro cheers, yelling off to the side with the little crowd you’ve gathered. “Be measured in your strength! You look amazing, by the way!”

You twirl around, sensing Alphoso is just at your back. You swing your arm, the back of your hand connecting to the flesh of his cheek, catching the spawn off-guard. His body flies behind him, but he catches himself before he falls – still, he stumbles. 

“Grab his sword!” Chae commands, her voice rising over all others: you know she’s right. You know you should – but your instincts get the better of you as your hands ball to fists as you swing at Ygritte, who can’t move fast enough as your knuckles meet her jaw. She cries out in pain before hitting you in the shoulder with her sword, her arm swinging in such a way that you can’t block: your arms are too busy punching this stupid spawn in the face and protecting your beauty (not that you won’t heal; you simply feel vain). 

The force of Ygritte’s swing takes the breath out of you, and you’re heaving on the ground when she swings at you again, more forcefully this time. Bashing the Master’s bride is certainly something she’s wanted to do for a very long time: the moment you invited the three to dance, Alphoso and Ygritte’s eyes lit up. Only Ruth had been reluctant; he seemed to only want to kiss your feet instead, profusely apologizing until you told him to shut his mouth. His shame is apparent, and his apologies are endless. 

“Get up, Tav!” Marg’o yelps; out of the corner of your eye, you see her clinging onto Chae’s shoulder for dear life, as if she’s the one on the ground right now. 

You ignore the tightness in your chest as you rebound off the floor, your strength allowing you to jump significantly higher than any woman should, creating distance between the two spawns. Just before you charge at them, you see them look over your shoulder, the crowd’s attention wavering to whoever has walked into the room. You know it’s Astarion: your ears are tuned to listen for the beat of his heart. He has given the spawn a silent command when they both turn back to you, looking even more sinister and ready to fight than before. 

It excites you. You want to watch them bleed!

You’re thinking you’re lucky you aren’t in any danger and that your foresight isn’t bothering you just as something slams into you from behind, shoving you onto the ground. You put your hands out in just enough time to keep your face from crashing to the floor; quickly roll onto your back, rebounding off the floor as you move to tackle your aggressor. It’s Ruth, who's now joined the fray. The reluctance in his eyes remains for only a second before his determination rises and he decides to truly fight. 

You feel time is slow, for a bit. It’s just your perception, nothing magical happening here, but sometimes, eternity moves so slowly, even in these moments. The hoots and hollers around you inspire you, and you feel their true belief and goodwill feelings towards you. Ziir’o, Chae, Josh, Marg’o, Quinel, Lae’zel, and the others: their auras are blooming with excitement, anticipation, and hope. Your githyanki friends believe that you and Astarion can help them fight Vlaakith. They trust you…

And your back, specifically the hot, passionate aura that seems to explore you, reaching for you…coming from Astarion: you know this because it’s so unmistakable. Albeit you can’t read his thoughts (his Ascendant mind is far too powerful, too protected from invasion) you know Astarion is so happy to see you, even like this. His love is passionate, and it’s so warm: but you dare not get distracted now, except…

Out of the corner of your eye, you see a white cat. It’s fluffy and beautiful, and it slowly blinks at you. The sight is shocking, bringing you back to your first conscious moments at Geldon Moth’s estate; except, the cat looks different, now. You had remembered the cat being collared, with dull green eyes – collared no more, the cat excludes freedom as its red and gold eyes stare back at you. Angel.

Your distraction leaves the three spawns descending on you, flanking you easily: you’re entirely vulnerable. You hear someone in the crowd remarking about the strange appearance of the animal, distracting you further. You don’t have time to look back at the cat before Ruth brings you to the ground. You hiss, growling as you begin to fight and claw, punch, and burn: celestial light is pouring from your every touch, making you feel hot. This would probably be cheating if you were ever forced to play by the rules but it isn’t like you can control it; if anything, your lack of control is beginning to frighten you. 

“Bitch!” Ygritte yells as you’ve burned her face. She backs away, clutching at her cheeks as you swing at her legs.

“Watch it,” Astarion growls from an unseen corner behind you, Ygritte’s eyes flitting to him for just a second. 

“Ha!” You laugh directly at her as she falls to the floor, you having kicked the ground from beneath her; you don’t hesitate when you impale her through the shoulder with her wooden blade, which she abandoned in her efforts to soothe her pain. The githyanki cheer even louder when you do this: and truthfully, it feels good to have so many cheering you on. 

You feel powerful! Fuck yes! You’ve almost forgotten who you are, haven’t you? The second most powerful vampire in the world. Maybe even the most powerful!

You’re invigorated and you’ve a smile on your face. Unable to stop yourself, you whip your head around. Your hair is still tightly secure, thanks to Bethild’s thorough work. After hearing about your mishap in Baldur’s Gate, she corrected her technique: you feel confident and beautiful. As you briefly survey the cheering crowd, your eyes rest on Astarion’s gaze for just a moment – that’s all you have before your attention is brought back to the spawn in front of you. 

You decide to go all in as you leap between the men, grabbing their necks as you smash them into the training floor: it’s padded, but you break through its lining, crushing the men into the stone below. You let go of Alphoso, who quickly submits to you. But Ruth…

You haven’t thought of Ruth in a while. He is, quite frankly, pretty low on your list of priorities. But you find yourself digging your fingertips into his skin until you’ve torn through his throat; you’re able to feel the insides of his body cavity, as the pressure of your nails only digs deeper. You can’t let go. The room seems to slowly devolve into silence, the crowd begrudgingly shuffling out of the training quarters. This isn’t a public, friendly brawl, anymore.

“This is revenge,” You whisper to him before pulling your hand away from his mangled form. Ruth recently fed, you can tell, because his body is filled with plasma-filled, warm blood, which soaks your hand – along with shreds of sinew and torn flesh. You and Ruth are looking at each other: he looks so pathetic to you that you ignore his sorrow-filled gaze, his attempts at making his mouth give you some sort of apology. Ruth was supposed to be watching you that night you were taken: he wasn’t supposed to leave your side. He was supposed to protect you. But Geldon Moth swallowed you up while Ruth was macking on his human girlfriend.

You almost laugh at the thought – and unable to hold whatever madness back that has now befallen you, you can’t help yourself as you devolve into a giggling mess. You keep laughing until the room clears, until your stomach hurts, until there are tears in your eyes. 

“Such a cute, evil little laugh~” Angel remarks at some point, having transformed back into his usual form, but it doesn’t sway you. You and Ruth are locked in – it’s almost romantic: the look on his eyes, the way his hair is fanned out as blood pools beneath him, making him look almost canvas-like, and the way he gasps beneath you…

“Ha…Ahaha…” You let out your last few giggles. You stare at him beneath you a little longer. The room is quiet, the only ones still left are your husband, Lae’zel, and Angel. You should just kill Ruth and be done with it, but you have a distinct feeling it won’t make anything better. You needn’t look deep to understand you just want to cause pain as you envision further tearing Ruth to shreds, ripping out his heart, and giving it to Cynthia as his body burns on a pyre. 

“You’ve defeated your opponent – get up, Tav,” Lae’zel coaxes. Her words are structured like a demand, but her voice reveals her words as a suggestion: nobody is actually about to stop you. You have all the power, right here, right now, to end Ruth’s life. 

“He hasn’t felt enough pain,” You find yourself saying. Ruth’s aura is frantic, more terrified than excruciating: that’s how you know he hasn’t had enough. 

“The only reason he isn’t dead is because he’s a vampire, Tav!” Lae’zel yells, louder than you both expect. This is undeniably true – no mortal could ever survive these wounds. “Look at him – he is done for. You’ve won.”

“So? So fucking what?” You answer, desperately trying to even your voice. “It’s not about winning.”

“So you’re a torturer now? Is that who you are?” Lae’zel sneers – she means to continue, but you interrupt. 

You guffaw before letting out a strangled chuckle. “Bah! A torturer?”

“Tav,” Astarion calls to you, and it stops you in your tracks. You feel a stillness come over you at the sound of his smooth, velvet voice. You hear the soft steps of his shoes as he approaches you; his heat, his heartbeat, his scent, that pink, lovely aura…they all begin to fawn over you. Astarion undeniably makes your heart swell to proportions uncomfortable to you, right now. It’s overwhelming, and you’re clenching your jaw so hard your temples begin to hurt. 

 Things between you are so tense, you could cut through the air with a knife. “I understand–”

“You understand!?” You ask incredulously, your voice cracking as you hold back your sob.

Astarion lets out a cruel chuckle, a darkening presence emitting from him. “You don’t think I understand what it’s like to be tortured? To be used? To be broken?” Astarion pauses for a moment, leaving only Ruth’s gurgles of torment to fill the room. Astarion hasn’t mentioned this explicitly to you in many, many years, and you are taken aback. “I wasted away in the boudoir for nearly two hundred years! I’ve had thousands violate my body, spent countless hours being tortured, starved, and buried alive. And you don’t think I understand you?”

You don’t know, anymore. You really don’t.

Astarion crouches next to you, grabbing your forearms in his hands, pulling them away from Ruth, desperately vying for your attention. He softens his expression. “I understand you fully, Tav. I see you.” 

“Y-you see me!?” You yell back, attempting to pull yourself back from his grasp. “How? How can you see me when I can't see myself? The only thing I know is that I’m n-not safe anymore! I’m not safe with you or Lae’zel, or Angel, or out in the world, or even in my own fucking house!” 

It’s up to you: only you can save yourself. You are your own Master, now. Angel’s face twists at your thoughts, displeasure apparent on his face. You think he’s about to speak, but he holds his tongue. 

“That isn’t true – I would do anything to protect you! Do you really believe you’re not safe with me? With your husband? Your Master?” Astarion emphasizes this last part, making you wince. 

“You’ve hurt me before! You let me be taken!”

“I didn’t let you be taken! You speak absurdities now!” Astarion argues desperately. “I hurt you in the past – I admit, I did things that weren’t right for me to do, love, but I believed they were right for us at the time. I only ever wanted us to stay together. To be together.”

“But you’d deliberately cause fear,” You gasp, “Heartache. Those things are painful.”

“Because I didn’t want to be a slave to you! You carry my heart in your hands, Tav, and you hardly realize it. You’re careless,” Astarion says, his face twisting in pain as if every word hurts to speak. “You don’t understand what you do to me. I’m–”

Astarion pauses, his eyes darting off to the side before meeting yours once more. “What I feel for you – I once believed it was shameful. I walk around with my greatest weakness for all to see. Gods, Tav…”

“Ashamed of your love for me?” You ask, despite already knowing the answer. 

“Love, obsession, devotion,” Angel says in a low voice, causing you and Astarion both to look at him; his eyes are hooded, a shadow passing over his eyes as his gaze boars into you. “With you. Your body, your mind, especially your cunt–”

The room explodes in protest. Astarion demands Angel’s silence while you’re asking your patron what the fuck is wrong with him and why he’s like this. But he only glowers at you, his dark mood unwavering. It unnerves you. 

“This is no business of ours. We shall take our leave,” Lae’zel interrupts, among you and Astarion’s protests. 

“Tav is also mine. Her business is my own.” Angel speaks seriously, likely for one of the first times in front of anyone but you. 

“I don’t want to be yours! I don’t want it to be your business! You’ve ruined everything, you know!” Your voice is harsh, ringing out loudly through the training room, your shrill tone and panicked expression apparent to everyone, even you. “You should have just left me there, to waste away–”

Astarion grabs you again, this time his grasp more forceful, surging your body to his. “Don’t say such things!”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do! I–“ You trail off because you really need space. There is a strange look that passes over Astarion; something soft, a realization of some sort. His hold on you loosens, and you pull yourself away from him. He looks dejected as you continue to stumble back, tripping over Ruth’s body. Astarion nearly moves to catch you but stops himself. You land with a thump, straight on your bottom – 

The air is so heavy, you can’t breathe. Thank gods you don’t need to. Astarion’s face has turned to stone, twisted from a pained expression to something more muted. You can see the wounds of his heart all over him. His aura looks like it’s bleeding, and it makes you want to fix him in whatever way you can; to fix this. 

“What am I supposed to do?” You ask yourself rather than anyone else, peering deeply into Ruth’s eyes. You want to disappear from this situation.

His eyes are glassy, and when you look closely, you find yourself getting lost…and a moment later, you see a vision in his eyes: the expanse of the sea. The Astral Sea. Timeless, floating, beautiful. A glimmer of dragon scales is almost undetectable amongst the stars. The scene changes: the moonlight shines brightly on the palace Astarion built for you – but only for a moment. When the dragons crash through the sky, the entire dome of your world lights up, as if the hells itself has ascended on you. Rubble. Blood. The scent of burning flesh. 

The sun is setting already, you can feel it. The sun is setting, your hands are still covered in warm blood. You turn back, Lae’zel and Astarion having already noticed Angel, who frantically grabs you before Astarion can understand what’s happened. Angel saw your vision, too, and the fear in his eyes frightens you even further. You can’t move, you’ve frozen in place. You’re imagining Ruth’s pyre spreading across your lands, your body, your sin, only for the fire to be kindled by a red dragon, which inadvertently turns into your worst nightmare: a red Dragonborn. Moth.

Angel and Astarion harshly exchange words before you’re thrust into Astarion’s arms. Something is very, very wrong, and Angel is upset. You mutter something to Astarion about dragons, your palace, and your things; your lover hushes you, telling you not to worry, but Angel interrupts him.

“Tell her he’s dead! He can’t hurt her, but a real dragon can, so she needs to get it together!” Angel’s concern is apparent in his tone, his deep voice loud in your ears. 

“I heard you!” You yell, relieved to be finally back to yourself once more. Although you aren’t frozen anymore, you can’t help but cling to Astarion for dear life, and he’s clinging to you in equal measure as your party runs through your palace. Angel leads, his presence in your home quite daunting; you think how strange it is that this odd, powerful being has become a constant in your life. Lae’zel flanks, and Astarion maneuvers you over his shoulder, his hands firmly gripping your hips and thighs. Part of you wants to demand your feet on the ground, but the destructive visions in your head have you wanting to be close. Something is telling you to hold onto him, and so you do.

“They couldn’t have found us here,” Lae’zel speaks a little too coolly like she’s desperately trying to keep her head. One peek into her mind reveals how truly devastated she is. 

“And yet they did,” Astarion growls under his breath, his hands squeezing you as if to make sure you’re still there. His aura is centered pink, as always, but the red that emits from his body is unmistakable. He’s furious.

“You don’t understand, it’s impossible!  we have the technology! Orpheus –“ Lae’zel’s voice quickly becomes shrill. 

“Orpheus was wrong!” Angel whips his head around, his expression more twisted than you ever imagined. Angel’s face is red with anger, his ruby eye blazing hot, his fingers trembling. He’s never been so disjointed before. “There’s nowhere on this plane Vlaakith’s army won’t be able to find us.”

The three of you reach the portal room just as the sun sets – and just as every portal vanishes before your eyes; you’ve never seen anything like it before as they all whir just before they die, becoming nothing more than a piece of furniture. Lae’zel’s furious, Angel is trying not to angrily throw his body around; Astarion sets you down, cupping your face in his hands – you both understand you don’t have much time for everything you need to say to each other. Your earlier anger seems to dissipate as you look into his eyes. 

I love you. I love you. I love you, Astarion.

Angel is telling you he needs to teach you a spell. Lae’zel is ragefully hitting and knocking at the portals, not understanding how Vlaakith could do such a thing, all while you and Astarion take a moment to look into each other's eyes. Something about this moment is pure. His skin, his hair, his eyes – they brighten, only ever for you. You have to fix this. Fuck.

“I’m so sorry…” You begin before faltering, because you don’t know what else to say. 

“Don’t – it’s alright,” Astarion says gently, brushing your cheekbone with his thumb. “I’m sorry. I’ve been entirely selfish, and you deserve so much more than that, my love…”

Astarion is interrupted by an ungodly bang, something that seems to shake the realm itself. He’s got you cradled to his chest now, his posture entirely defensive. This moment hardly feels real – your mind flits to Bethild, and you silently hope she will survive. Maybe if you’re quick –

“We don’t have time for that, or this!” Angel yells, motioning to you and Astarion, urging you away from him. “She needs to learn the spell!”

“I should’ve been better for you,” Astarion’s voice is low in your ear, coming to a whisper as you know he desires privacy, even as the screams in the palace start to get louder. “A better mast–mentor, a better husband. A better friend. Even a better lover. I am so sorry, my love.”

You want to tell him that you know it isn’t his fault, but your feelings beg to differ. Sometimes, reality and emotion don’t match up: it irritates you.

“I don’t hate you,” You whisper back, wishing you could look into his eyes, but you both feel better being embraced. 

“I’ll take what I can get,” Astarion lightly teases; you can hear the hint of a smile on his face. He kisses the top of your head before grabbing your shoulders, holding you squarely to him. He’s looking at your lips – you know he wants to kiss you, but he hesitates. He’s about to speak again, but you decide to take charge. The moment you move in for the kiss, Astarion does too, the both of you in perfect sync with each other. You bring each other into a chaste kiss, his pretty lips settling tenderly on yours; he’s gentle with you, one hand on your cheek, the other respectfully touching your waist. You’re surprised he isn’t pulling your body into his. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip in a smooth motion, as if it's something he can’t control: tasting you. Tingles ripple through your body under his touch. You want to touch and kiss him more: his aura becomes yours, making this kiss feel different than any you’ve had before. When he pulls away from you, you can’t help but start to cry – little tears, spilling down your lashes and trailing down your cheeks. 

“They’re going to destroy our home,” You whisper. “Everything you’ve built us…”

He gingerly wipes your tears away.

“Well,” Astarion whispers back, a playful look in his eye, despite his own tears. “As bad of a line this is, my only home is you, Tav. As long as we’re together.”

Astarion pulls you to him now, no longer able to control his desire for nearness; his forehead rests on yours. You know there’s much more he wants to say, but the Astral Sea calls, lest death finally catch you. You try to suck in your tears as you speak. “I g-guess we could use a fresh start…yeah?”

“I suppose we do,” Astarion wearily whispers, pulling away from you, looking uncertain. Neither of you understands what ‘a fresh start’ means: only that what the two of you carry of your old life is remnants of your love, still strong and passionate, but broken – displaced. This is exasperated by knowing what’s to come; rather, than not knowing exactly what’s to come. Your visions offered answers, certainly, but always seem to pose more questions in equal. 

You blink at him, his weepy smile becoming infectious to you. The two of you are lost in this little moment, exchanging little confessions of love with just your gaze. Only the sound of a dragon's roar can snap you out of your love trance. 

Lae’zel’s turned away from you. You think she’s also crying. “There’s no time to waste,” Lae’zel says, her voice rough. You know this is tearing her apart. When she looks back at you, it shakes you. Lae’zel’s brow is furrowed, her eyes filled with tears of fury, slanted with determination. 

“Your involvement with the Ancuníns is hardly why Vlaakith and her legion attacked the material plane, Lae’zel,” Angel quickly explains, turning away from the topic once he’s said his peace. “She wouldn’t just attack the material plane on a mere whim– no. She’s been planning this for some time.”

“Tav,” Angel’s voice is stern now. “Babe, come here. Consider it part of our contract.” His voice booms, louder than you’d imagine, and you know he means business. 

“Go on,” Astarion says with great reluctance, squeezing your hand. “We’ll figure everything out once we’re safe.”

“We must go to Orpheus,” Lae’zel says. “We won’t be able to hide anywhere on this plane – wherever we go, they will follow.”

“Tav,” Angel extends his hand towards you, and you feel almost a pull, right from your head. From your left eye. Like a string, tugging you along. 

“Wait!” You yell: this is all definitely happening way too fast – Angel wraps his arm around you. You feel scared for a moment, but you’re met with a surprising warmth…if anything, Angel is feverish to the touch. His large wings drape around you, and you’re thankful there is enough room just so he can shield the two of you. 

“I’d take us to my domain for a bit if I could,” Angel says, his voice low, softer than before. “I can’t leave this plane, girl. Well, I can, but I can’t summon a portal of any kind. Part of my punishment, or whatever. But I can give you the spell.”

Angel’s large hand comes to cup your jaw, his fingertips resting on the back of your head, pulling you into him. “I promise I don’t think you’re stupid, okay? You’re just not a great warlock or wizard, and this is the easiest way to make you know.”

“What!?” 

“Don’t freak out – I’m gonna give you part of my divine essence. Just a quick kiss and you’ll know the spell for a bit,” Angel explains, grabbing your hand and putting it over his heart. “You’re gonna feel like shit afterward, like, after you cast it. But I’ll take care of you.” 

You feel the thump of Angel’s heart beneath his broad chest. It’s racing. His heartbeat. His warmth. You want to be closer to him, and you’re tired of fighting. This is becoming too much for you. 

“You’re not really scared…are you?” Angel softly asks, running his thumb over your cheek. “Of me?”

Angel is soft, right now. His pupils blown, he gazes at your face, cradling your head and cheek with his large palm. His thumb seems to explore your face, just a little, idly smoothing out your brow and touching your lips. “I wouldn’t ever hurt you, beautiful…”

“But you want to possess me all the same, don’t you?” You ask darkly. What isn’t safe is your freedom, not necessarily your body. Astarion definitely wouldn’t hurt you, nor Lae’zel and Angel had been gentle with you so far, for the most part…you don’t have time for this! “Just fucking kiss me already!”

“I wanted it to be nicer than this, y’know,” Angel’s eyes sparkle down at you for just a moment before he presses his lips to yours. He’s firm, his lips soft and warm; parting your lips with his thumb, you feel the soft sensation of his tongue easing in to taste you. His tongue, so long you fear it could choke you, passionately explores your mouth. Angel can’t help but hum in pleasure, his needy hands grabbing you tighter, needing so much more from you. Strange runes fill your head, and you feel yourself sipping his power…

The tip of his tongue runs along one of your fangs, pressing into the tooth just enough to draw blood. It’s an explosion in your mouth: He tastes sweet, like liquid sunlight and gold in your mouth…his taste is rich, smooth, hot, so fucking hot you feel your cunt pulsate with desire. For a moment,  every inch of your body craves to be closer to him. You can’t help yourself when you bite into his lip, bringing yourself closer to his body, drinking more of him in. 

It’s unlike anything…it’s divine. You almost miss the flavor of deception: there is something wrong with you taking his blood. But what? 

Suddenly, you’re freed from Angel’s grasp – the spell between you breaks, and you realize your face is covered in his blood. You don’t have long to feel ashamed; Astarion effortlessly tosses you to the side, tackling Angel to the ground in one fell swoop. His motions are elegant, and measured, catching Angel off guard – your patron is still drunk off you, reflexes slow, a shocked expression coming over him.

Landing with a thump, Lae’zel quickly helps you up, drawing you further away from the men. 

Astarion remains dominant, and you realize Angel can’t use his typical methods to flee – now it is simply the will of bodily strength. Astarion pins Angel to the ground, the large Aasimar’s body being brought down to the floor with a crack. 

“You only have – ow! Shit! – thirty more seconds!” Angel calls out to you, his cry pained, and it pains you too. “Do the thing, Tav, I command it!”

Your next motions are almost involuntary, and you begin to understand why there is no refusal clause in your contract: you don’t think you can refuse, not now, anyway. Whatever Angel is, is far more than what you understand. Your body begins to move, and you know you’re preparing the spell. A diamond, worth far less than any diamond Astarion would buy you.

“I need a diamond!” You yell, wondering why the one time you actually need a diamond, you don’t have one in close vicinity. Once again, Angel fails to mention important information – you curse.

Astarion whips his head around, the urgency apparent on his face. “Across the hall! Hurry!” 

As you bound across the hall, using your supernatural speed to rummage through Astarion’s office until you found a ridiculous diamond-studded brooch, you desperately miss your connection to Astarion. All of this would be so much easier – because what in the hells is he planning? 

As soon as you reach the portal room once more, Lae’zel is screaming at you as an orchestra of chaos continues around you. 

“Open the portal!” Lae’zel yells. Ancient runes dance around your skull – the energy in the room is entirely chaotic, your world spinning and jolting as you bring your palms together, clasping together your digits except your index fingers and thumbs. You speak something in an unintelligible language; the words flow out of you naturally, as if you’ve always known them. The whir of the portal materializes in front of you. You don’t marvel at its majesty, despite its utter beauty and powerful presence. 

“‘Star! Angel!” You cry, but Lae’zel grabs you: you feel weak, extremely weak, all of a sudden…your muscles are jelly, and even your jaw feels slack as you fight against her grasp. “Please!”

“Go! Go, my love – we’ll find each other!” Astarion yells amidst his struggles with Angel, who aggressively fights back. 

“Astarion! No, please, please don’t leave me!” You start to panic, now, the thought of being away from both Astarion and Angel. If you’re separated from them in the Astral Sea, would they ever be able to reach you? Does Astarion or Angel know where to go? What does Astarion mean to do to him?

“Come on!” Lae’zel’s pulling you, but you’re turned around, wrenching yourself away from your ex-lover. You can’t leave Astarion. You can’t. You think you may actually die if you’re separated from your husband again. And Angel – you can’t leave Angel. 

You run towards them: gorgeous silver curls amidst long, flowing black hair, one large, tanned body desperately trying to overpower a smaller pale one. Sweat drips down Astarion’s face as he continues to dominate – you’ve almost reached them when you feel Lae’zel’s strong arms wrap around you, pulling you backward.

“No! Lae, let me go, please! ‘Star! Angel!” You scream, scratching and clawing at Lae’zel as the two of you fall back into an abyss. You are immediately disoriented as time falls away from you entirely. For a moment, you truly don’t know who you are, who you’re with, or what you’re doing: a fear rises in you, so vast and solid, that you try to scream, but nothing comes out. All you can see is a silvery expanse of void, floating debris, and strange lights.

You close your eyes, keeping the person you’re with close. ‘Help me,’ you call to them because you cannot speak. You’re suddenly pulled from your fear, existing in some suspended state before a great calm washes over you. You can hardly feel your body as your mind begins to relax. 

‘Stay with me,’ The voice says. But it could be anyone. Your mind reaches, reaches for your ex-lover, your friend: someone you trust. Someone you care for to some degree, despite your odd way of showing it. You’ve remembered you’re with Lae’zel, that she forcefully brought you through a portal, separating you from your husband and your patron – you feel anger before understanding. 

The Astral Sea. Finally.

[an-au-blog]

We've all seen Sora take the kids and marry Zeff or leaving Zeff custody of Sanji but hear me out: Sora doesn't die and is the one to break Sanji out of the dungeon and escapes with him. They're in some no name town in the East Blue and Sanji sneaks on to Mihawk's little coffin boat to loot him and take it back to his mom and gets caught. Mihawk walks him back to Sora who apologizes profusely and Mihawk can see that shes ill and that they're clearly out of their depth and for whatever reason, his mind cannot fathom it honestly, he offers to take the Kuraigana with him. Sora and Sanji agree too, for whatever reason, maybe they're scared because they know who he is, or they're just that desperate. Either way they agree and leave with him.

They make a supply stop a couple islands away because Mihawk realizes they have nothing except a shared back pack of clothes and that's it. Sanji is trying not to hide behind his mom from Mihawk but he's a kid who's been through a lot and Mihawk reminds him of his brothers and Judge. Mihawk gets them a few outfits and picks up some more food because of how thin they both are. When they check into an inn and Sanji's asleep Sora finds Mihawk and thanks him and says she had to save her son.

Not even a month after they're all settled in his home Mihawk finds himself extremely endeared to this duo and hopes they never leave, it takes him another three to say it and Sora cries happily and Sanji nods. Sora has taken over most of the cleaning and Sanji cooks with Mihawk a lot and Sora has improved greatly. The dynamic isnt perfect by any means but it works for them. Sometimes Sanji's nightmares will wake Mihawk up before they wake him up so Mihawk will sit with him until they do or he calms down. Sora knows a lot about caring for weapons and instruments so she'll tune the piano or clean his antique swords.

Woops Mihawk is in love and suddenly has a wife and child he didn't think he would and Newgate is going to laugh at him. Doesn't even necessarily think of the implications or anything just tells them at dinner over their plates. They don't leave until Sanji decides to go work at Baratie when he's a teen and then joins the straw hat crew. Life goes on. Everyone thinks Sanji's an orphan still since he doesn't talk about his parents. His parents read the paper.

When Perona appears Sora confirms it's not her pink haired daughter but she'll take another. And then look! Zoro's here, Sanji's nakama and the kid Mihawk almost killed, how charming. Zoro's really confused because Mihawk in the castle is different from the master training him and he's a lot softer and kind towards Sora. Sora asks them both about their adventures in pirating and such.

Zoro asks point blank if she's Sanji's mom and she laughs and mentions how that's so Sanji to not talk about them and Mihawk mentions how smart that is because otherwise oops, they're either down a son or Mihawk's bounty is unfrozen. Sora jokes that need two more to make up for the other two she has and Mihawk tells her that they cannot keep collecting kids.

Zoro is absolutely gonna kick Sanji's ass.

That's a whole-ass fix right there, damn! I actually love any au where Sora doesn't die, I don't wanna see her go ngl hahaha ':)

And I genuinely think she can melt almost anyone's heart. But have you thought about the Sanji repressions??? He's already canonically bitchy but now he'll have all the sass from Mihawk as well????? I think that'd be absolutely hilarious!

Plus that would mean that Mihawk was going to the Baratie to check in on his son, that's so cute omg :') And that could also be an excuse for why he didn't kill Sanji's "new friend" during his fight with Zoro.

Also why do I feel like Mihawk would try his damned best to make Sanji call him father instead of dad and Sanji would do it just to spite him.

Sanji: thanks for uh... you know... not killing my new crewmates

Mihawk: I guess it couldn't be helped

Sanji: Whatever, bye dad

Mihawk absolutely not having the heart to correct him at this point:... yeah.

Also Sora adopting Perona during ts makes me so happy. She would brush and braid her hair thinking if she'll ever have the chance to do it with her biological daughter. So that only makes her want to savour every moment with Perona while she can. And I think Perona would love Sora as well, she loves cute and pretty things so they'd make a great dynamic just absolutely driving Mihawk up the wall by redecorating... or as he calls it "ruining the aesthetic" or his castle.

Also... for the haha's: Sanji knowing way yoo much about swords would confused the hell out of Zoro. Not to mention that once Zoro finds out about his connection to Mihawk, I feel like he'd want to fight him even more than he already does. Bonus if Sanji is actually a really skilled swordman.

[crimsonhydrangeavn]

Hey again, i'm the anon who asked about if MC got into an argument with the LI's. I would also like to know about the sexual aspect

Hi there! Thank you for reaching out and asking again! If I'm not mistaken your initial question was "HI! Love the game demo! Please pardon my english as it is not my first language. How would the LI react if they accidentally hurt MC or took something too far? Like if they were arguing, and only noticed MC crying/sad after they said something. It could be on a emotional or sexual sense as well." It would honestly depend if Garret was upset with you beforehand. If he was "punishing you" he would purposefully want it to hurt so you would regret your actions and learn from your mistake. He'd probably start feeling a little guilty after the fact and try to make it up to you in little ways, but ultimately he would defend himself by saying it was for your own good. However, if he wasn't upset with you before hand and he took something too far with you in the sexual sense, he would apologize and try to make it up to you. To be honest he probably wouldn't notice it in the moment, so once he noticed you crying/ acting strangely after the fact he'd go into full damage control mode. If he hadn't already, he'd probably confess that you're his first and that he simply got carried away. He'd try to win your trust back and treat you extra gently the following weeks until you forgave him and felt comfortable with him once more.

If Marcelo took things too far or actually hurt you he would probably notice when it happened or shortly there after. He'd immediately stop, pull out, and immediately check in on you. Despite his outgoing attitude, he's actually incredibly sensitive and in tune with your emotions, and the thought of seriously hurting you would immediately take him out of the moment. Marcelo will always prioritize you over his own feelings and emotions and that absolutely extends to your bedroom.

Camilla would immediately realize that she hurt you and stop things then and there. She'd cuss herself out before profusely apologizing and rushing to treat any wounds your injuries you might have sustained.

Rita would be incredibly upset and frustrated with herself. She would do her best to surpress her frustration and focus on helping you and tending to any injuries you had, emotional or physical. She'd apologize and promise to take it easy on you moving forward, unless of course you asked for more. All in all she would be more upset with herself than anything and be incredibly kind, patient, and sweet towards you for the following days.

Similar to Garret, It would really depend with Teagan. If they were upset with you before hand they would justify it by saying you deserved it because of what you did to them first. They would probably try to smooth things over after the fact, but I don't see them feeling guilty or remorseful for taking things too far if they really felt as though you deserved it somehow.

If you didn't "provoke" them into hurting you, then they would probably genuinely apologize. The last thing they want is for you to dislike them and dread having sex with them. The rest of the session/ week they'd go out of their way to love bomb you and be extra sweet, treating you to all of your favorite foods, gifts, and some really nice quality time. They'd make it up to you in everyway they could if it was a genuine accident.

[orbdweaver]

One subtle thing about Nemona that stood out to me: there’s this moment, around the 4th gym or so, where she runs up to you and apologizes profusely that she can’t battle you yet because her team isn’t balanced right yet or something

It’s a Funny Moment because

1) I’m not the one itching to battle; she is. She doesn’t need to apologize this much, it’s fine lol.

2) I’m not picky with opponents. I’ll happily fight her team in whatever wack-ass state it’s in. She’s fretting over an imaginary problem.

At the time, I wondered if it was like an honor student thing. Maybe Nemona's the kind of person who, inspired by the genuine skill, kindness, & dedication of those around her, grinds herself into a pulp trying to live up to that imagined standard.

That pressure is ENTIRELY self-imposed. If any of the adults she looks up to noticed this anxiety spiral, they’d tell her to relax, it’s fine, you’re doing too much as is and we’re proud of you no matter what, we promise. And they’d mean it, sincerely. Which of course would just make it worse, because “oh no, they’re even kinder than I thought they were, much kinder than I am, I need to work even harder to become as kind as them”.

Anyway, having completed the game, I think all of that is still *an element*. Nemona is a rich kid, student council president, honor student, and particularly close with the kindest & most influential adults in the country. The writers didn’t make her those thing on accident.

What I hadn’t picked up on was, the thing that was eating at Nemona the most was probably that she was worried she was fumbling her chance to make you her friend

Nemona, explicitly, has a weird autistic hyperfixation on Pkmn battling. Nobody else her age does. So her only real friends are adults, who, with the wisdom of age, are able to appreciate her idiosyncrasies, and know how to direct them toward something positive.

But they don't share them, as far as Nemona can tell. It’s hard to tell if someone Gets It or is just navigating around It, especially when they keep treating it as a means rather than an end.

Then you come along, showing a hint of sharing her Niche Special Interest, and she thinks “at last, this is my chance, I can make someone else Get It”.

So she tries to give you a guided tour, basically.

Nemona is already champion-rank; she is deliberately holding back & using a weak team so she can do the gym challenge alongside you. She isn’t worried her team is too weak. She’s worried her team isn’t properly tuned to give you the experience she wants you to have.

She's trying to streamline the process of you falling in love with this thing she likes. Which is of course a self-defeating effort.

The adults in Paldea are all hilariously hands-off. I think it’s fair to say that Nemona lacking a Nemona of her own is part of what helped her develop her weird special interest. The adventure of crawling thru a thorn bush is part of the fun. (I'd wager this is the ethos behind the school's mostly-unsupervised treasure hunt.)

And to her credit, I think Nemona knows this. She’s trying not to weird you out; she doesn’t want you to know she’s following you around. She *certainly* doesn’t want you to know how much she’s tying herself in knots over this, trying to determine how much contact is appropriate. She's attempting the impossible task of trying to suss out how someone is feeling without interacting or being fully honest with them, because doing either might make you think she's weird.

The arc ends appropriately anticlimactically. Of course you like the game; that’s why you started playing it. Nemona was fretting over nothing. All she had to do was consistently be there for you while you grew into what you were going to be. Which she did.