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vanteguccir · 16 days

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── ୨୧ !　5 TIMES CHRIS AND Y/N WERE CAUGHT KISSING

chris sturniolo x reader

SUMMARY: Where a fan creates a 5-minute video with all the times that Chris and Y/N were caught kissing.

WARNING: Making-out.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anon.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Chris and Y/N sat side by side on the plush couch in the living room. They were half-watching a movie that had been playing for the past hour, but neither of them was truly invested. Chris's arm was draped lazily around Y/N's shoulders, his thumb drawing idle circles on her upper arm. It was one of those rare, peaceful evenings where they could just relax and enjoy each other's company, without the usual hustle and bustle of filming or the pressure of content creation hanging over Chris head.

Y/N was scrolling through her TikTok, a small smile playing on her lips as she came across fan edits and posts dedicated to Chris and his brothers. Her fingers stopped suddenly, her eyes widening as she stopped on a video with the caption: "Top 5 Times Chris and Y/N Were Caught Kissing in the Background." She let out a small laugh, nudging Chris's shoulder to get his attention.

"Baby, look at this." She muttered, her voice filled with a mix of amusement and shyness. She turned the phone screen towards him, and his brows shot up in surprise as he read the title.

"Are you serious?" He asked, a grin spreading across his face as he leaned closer to get a better view. "I didn't even know we were caught that many times."

Y/N pressed play, and the screen lit up with the fan edit.

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1. Baking Blind, Deaf and Mute. (Two Times)

The first clip was from a Baking Blind, Deaf, and Mute challenge, recorded when the triplets had visited their parents in Boston for their birthday.

The video opened with Nick standing in the foreground with Matt by his side, leaning casually on the marble table, his hands gesturing animatedly as he explained how that video would be with the participation of Y/N. His voice was filled with that signature mix of enthusiasm and sarcasm as usual.

As Nick continued to lay out the idea, the camera caught slightly Chris and Y/N in the background, standing by the fridge. Chris was holding a spatula in the air like a sword while staring at Y/N, trying to look serious but failing miserably as a playful grin tugged at his lips.

Next to him, Y/N was meticulously reading the ingredients list, ignoring his playful manner successfully, her brow furrowed in concentration as she tried to memorize the steps, fully aware that she wouldn’t be able to see anything in a few minutes.

The atmosphere was light and filled with anticipation, the kind that comes with knowing things were about to descend into playful chaos. Matt and Nick were already debating loudly over what constituted a valid ingredient while picking the necessary ones from the cabinets, their voices a blend of mock seriousness and barely-contained laughter.

But then, probably with the hope of being hidden behind his brothers' back, Chris leaned closer to Y/N, his shoulder brushing against hers. The gesture was subtle, almost as if he were seeking her out in the midst of the noise, a quiet connection just for them. Y/N looked up from the list, her eyes meeting his, and a soft laugh escaped her, the sound so gentle that the camera barely picked it up.

Listening to his favorite sound, Chris, with his eyes sparkling with mischief, turned fully toward Y/N. He leaned in, whispering something in her ear that drew another quiet laugh from her - just like his goal -, her smile wide and genuine, the kind that made her eyes crinkle at the corners.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, Chris dipped his head and pressed a quick, tender kiss to her lips. It was brief, a mere brush of lips, but the affection behind it was palpable. Y/N’s cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she ducked her head, pretending to be engrossed in the ingredients list once more, though the small, secretive smile playing at her lips betrayed her.

Meanwhile, Matt started trying to talk to the camera, his voice raised to make sure the viewers could hear him over Nick's teasing.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

2. DTI

The second clip was from a particularly memorable livestream that Matt and Chris had done from Matt’s room. They had recently started playing a game called Dress to Impress, and after recording a small video for their YouTube channel where they played the game for the first time, it quickly became their newest obsession.

Y/N had been hanging out in the room during the stream, perched comfortably on Nick's chair off-camera. Although she wasn’t actively participating in the game, her presence was felt in subtle ways; every now and then, a hand would appear on the edge of the screen, holding out a bottle of water, an energy drink or a bowl of snacks for the boys. Each time, Chris would glance away from the screen just long enough to offer her a grateful smile or a quick thank you before returning to the chaos on Matt's monitor.

On this particular moment, the livestream had taken an amusing turn. Matt was deeply engrossed in a competition against another player who had, to his disbelief, apparently copied his entire outfit design. His face was a mix of shock and indignation, his voice rising with every word as he expressed his frustration.

Chris couldn’t help but laugh loudly. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes crinkling with amusement as he listened to his brother’s angry words, his eyes focused on the screen.

It was in this moment that Y/N leaned forward, her face suddenly appearing in the corner of the camera. She moved quietly, almost as if she was sneaking up on Chris, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leaned in close to him, her lips brushing against his ear as she whispered softly - something about 'knowing that Matt would win either way, since he - Chris - was the creative mind who helped creating the outfit'.

Chris’s reaction was immediate. The playful grin he had been wearing just moments before softened into something warmer, more affectionate. He turned his head slightly, meeting Y/N’s gaze with a look that was full of amusement. Without a second thought, he leaned in, catching her lips in a quick, sweet kiss. The kiss was fleeting, lasting only a second before Y/N pulled back, her cheeks tinged with a faint blush as she disappeared back into the background.

The moment was so brief that it could have easily gone unnoticed, especially with Matt’s voice still rising as he ranted about the blatant theft of his outfit. But their fans were nothing if not observant. The chat lit up almost instantly, viewers flooding the comments with a mixture of excitement and teasing.

Despite his attempts to play it cool, Chris couldn’t help the faint blush that crept up his cheeks. The tips of his ears turned pink as he tried to brush off the attention, focusing back on the game with a slightly embarrassed laugh.

"Alright, alright, focus on Matt, not me." He said, trying to redirect the conversation, though his smile never wavered.

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3. Fortnite Late Night

The third clip captured a moment during one of Matt and Chris's late-night gaming streams, "Fortnite Late Night." Each brother was in his own bedroom, Chris’s camera angled perfectly to frame his upper body, revealing a glimpse of his bed in the background, the soft light from his monitor casting a cool, blue glow over the room.

Meanwhile, Y/N had been upstairs, finishing up in the kitchen. The quiet house amplified the sound of her soft footsteps as she went to the stairs, heading towards the room she shared with Chris.

When Y/N reached the end of the steps and stepped into their bedroom, she found Chris completely engrossed in the game. His posture was tense, shoulders slightly hunched forward, eyes fixed on the screen with an intense concentration. The dim lighting highlighted his features - his lips were slightly parted, pink and plump, forming a small, unintentional pout, and his dark brown eyebrows were knitted together in focus.

He didn’t notice her at first, his mind fully absorbed in the game, but Y/N couldn’t help but smile at how adorable he looked in his concentrated state.

She was ready to crawl into bed, exhausted from the day, but there was one thing she had to do before she could even think about sleep. It was a nightly ritual at this point. No matter how tired she was, Y/N couldn’t fall asleep without saying goodnight to Chris.

Moving with sleepy steps, she walked over to where he sat. Chris didn’t need to look up to know she was there; he could sense her presence. As she leaned over the back of his chair, he could feel the soft brush of her hair against his neck, a comforting sensation that made him momentarily forget about the game.

"Goodnight, honey." Y/N whispered softly, her voice low and gentle, meant only for his ears. But her words, though quiet, were picked up by his sensitive microphone, echoing faintly through the livestream, reaching the ears of the hundreds of fans watching.

Without hesitation, and without any regard for the live audience, Chris tilted his head back, silently asking for his goodnight kiss. It was an instinctual, almost automatic gesture. Y/N, smiling at his adorable demand, obliged him, leaning down to press her lips against his in a tender, familiar kiss.

The angle was a bit awkward, the kiss upside down, but it didn’t matter, it was soft and unhurried.

On the other end of the game, Matt was fully aware of what had just happened. The sudden silence from Chris’s side was enough of a giveaway, and when he glanced at the small preview screen showing Chris’s camera, he saw it all. Matt smirked but kept his eyes on the game, unfazed by the interruption - he had grown used to these moments.

"Dude." Matt finally spoke up after Y/N’s figure disappeared behind Chris’s back, his tone dripping with teasing exasperation. "Can’t you keep your PDA for when we’re not live?"

Chris didn’t even flinch. With a lazy grin spreading across his face, he shrugged, entirely unapologetic.

"Sorry, couldn’t help it." He replied, his voice light and carefree. The grin on his face said it all - he wasn’t sorry at all.

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4. hello world

It had been a late-night gaming session - again -, one of those times when Chris and Matt were fully immersed in it, talking to fans while navigating through Dress to Impress. The energy in Chris’s room was electric, with his monitors casting a blue glow that bathed everything in a dim light. His headset was on, and he was deeply focused, his eyes glued to the screen.

But the concentration was constantly broken by Chris’s rumbling stomach and the string of complaints that followed.

"Ugh, I’m so hungry." He groaned into the mic, making a face. "Seriously, I could eat a whole pizza right now."

Matt laughed on the other end of the line, his voice crackling through the headphones.

"Dude, we just had dinner like three hours ago."

"Yeah, and?" Chris shot back, pausing for a second to take a sip of his energy drink. "That was hours ago. I’m starving. Hey chat, send food!" He laughed at his own joke, glancing over at the live comments.

Little did Chris know, Y/N was watching the livestream from the living room. She’d been lounging on the couch, scrolling through her phone, when she heard his complaints. A smile spread across her face as an idea formed in her mind. She knew Chris’s favorite takeout place just down the street and decided to surprise him.

She slipped on a pair of sneakers, grabbed her keys, and headed out. The whole trip took barely fifteen minutes. When she returned, the aroma of Chris’s favorite meal wafted through the bag she was carrying, and she made her way quietly up the stairs to their room.

Chris was still completely absorbed in his game, his back to the door. He didn’t notice when she slipped in, the door clicking softly behind her. Y/N could hear him talking to his brother, still complaining about his hunger, completely oblivious to her presence.

She smiled to herself, holding back a giggle as she crept closer. She set the bag down on his desk next to his keyboard, the movement catching his attention. Chris looked up, his eyes widening in surprise when he saw Y/N standing there, holding out the takeout bag with a grin.

"Hey." She whispered, leaning in close so the mic wouldn’t pick up her voice - unsuccessfully. "I heard you were hungry."

Chris’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. He pulled off his headset, letting it hang around his neck, and stretched out his arms to catch the bag from her.

"Oh my God, you’re the best." He said, his voice low and filled with genuine affection. He opened the bag, inhaling deeply, and let out a content sigh. "You got my favorite!"

Y/N nodded, her smile growing wider.

"I know you too well."

Without another word, Chris set the bag down and reached out, pulling Y/N into his arms, forcing her to bent her upper body. He didn’t care that the stream was still going or that his brother and the fans were waiting. In that moment, all he could think about was how thoughtful and sweet she was. He tilted his head up, capturing her lips in a deep, grateful kiss.

Y/N kissed him back, her hands resting on his thighs, feeling the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his sweatpants.

It wasn’t until they broke apart that Chris remembered they were still live. He glanced over at his screen, the chat scrolling so fast it was a blur, and he could see the comments exploding.

Chris laughed, picking up his headset and sliding it back on.

"Sorry, guys." He said into the mic, a huge grin on his face. "Got a little distracted there. Y/N just brought me food, so, uh, I’m gonna eat while we keep playing."

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5. We became dad's for 24 hours!!! (to eggs)

The last clip was one of a quiet, intimate moment captured during one of the boys' more absurd challenges: taking care of an egg as if it were their own child for 24 hours.

It was the middle of the early morning, the clock barely ticking past 3 AM, when the sound of three simultaneous alarms pierced the stillness of the house. The sharp, grating beeps echoed through the rooms, signaling that it was time for them to wake up and "feed" their eggs.

The absurdity of the situation was only amplified by the ungodly hour, the boys' groggy voices muttering incoherently as they stumbled around, trying to remember where they had left their fragile "children".

Y/N, who had been curled up in bed, still wrapped in the warmth of sleep, found herself jolted awake by the noise. Her eyelids were heavy, barely lifting as she pushed herself up from the bed.

Dressed in one of Chris's oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her frame and a pair of soft pajama shorts, she looked the very picture of someone who had been dragged from sleep far too early. Her hair was tousled, a wild halo around her face, and her eyes were half-closed as she shuffled out of the room.

She used the commotion as an excuse to get a drink of water, her feet moving on autopilot as she padded quietly into the kitchen. The house was dimly lit, with only the soft glow of the moon filtering through the big window and the faint blue light of the fridge as she pulled it open.

The boys’ sleepy voices floated to her from the living room, muffled but distinct, each of them trying to outdo the other in their groggy banter about their "kids".

Chris was sprawled out on the couch in the living room, his body sinking into the cushions, looking cozy yet disheveled. His legs were stretched out, feet propped up on the coffee table, and his head was tilted back, his eyes blinking slowly as he tried to stay awake. He was mumbling something about the challenge, his words barely coherent.

Y/N, still in her sleepy haze, wandered toward them, her footsteps soft against the hardwood floor. The coolness of the water bottle in her hand provided a small comfort as she made her way toward Chris, passing by Matt’s legs, narrowly avoiding his outstretched foot, and maneuvered around the coffee table until she stood in front of her boyfriend.

Chris’s gaze followed her movements, his tired eyes lighting up slightly as he watched her approach. His arms opened wide, almost instinctively, inviting her into his embrace without needing to say a word. There was a small, sleepy smile on his lips, one that matched the one Y/N gave him as she stepped closer. The moment was quiet, almost dreamlike, the world around them fading into the background as she climbed over his legs and nestled into his lap.

She settled herself against him, her legs folded up on the couch as her body molded against his. The right side of her body pressed against his chest, and she could feel the steady rise and fall of his breathing beneath her. Her head found its place on his shoulder, her nose nuzzling gently against the exposed skin of his neck.

Chris’s arm wrapped around her, pulling her closer, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on her back. He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head, causing Y/N to smile against his neck, feeling the warmth of his breath on her skin, and she tilted her head back just enough to look up at him.

Almost automatically, Chris leaned down again, their lips meeting in a soft, lazy kiss. It was gentle, a mere brush of lips, but it was enough to make Y/N’s heart flutter.

When they pulled back, Y/N let out a small sigh, her eyes fluttering closed as she nestled back into the curve of his neck. Chris held her close, his hand resting on her back, his thumb stroking gently up and down in a soothing rhythm, letting his brothers finish what they wanted to say before going to bed again.

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The video ended, and Y/N hit pause before it replayed again by itself, looking up at Chris, who was leaning back with a satisfied smile.

"Wow." She started, dragging out the word. "Look at you, Mister Romantic."

Chris shrugged, unabashed.

"What can I say? When you've got a girlfriend as amazing as you, you just... can't help yourself."

Y/N, sitting up and adjusting her position, rolled her eyes but smiled, her cheeks tinged pink.

"You’re such a dork." She muttered, but there was affection in her voice.

"And you love it." Chris shot back, leaning down, pressing a kiss to her temple, and Y/N couldn't help but smile, leaning into his touch.

"I really do."

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extra - comments:

"this compilation was the perfect one to prove what the boys said about chris being the only one who would make-out with his girlfriend in front of everyone 😭"

"stop, the way chris looks at Y/N in every clip???? ugh, I NEED this 😩"

"forget the baking, chris and Y/N's little kiss right there? too cute omg"

"okay but that livestream moment when Y/N brings chris food 😭 she's so thoughtful and caring ;(("

"chris and Y/N in the background just being all lovey-dovey while matt and nick are doing their thing is EVERYTHING!!! they’re so in love it hurts 🥺"

"honestly, I’m all here for how they’re always caught kissing like they forget the cameras are on 😞"

"chris couldn't even focus on the game anymore after Y/N kissed him LMAOOO, he's down bad, guys"

"STOP IT RIGHT NOW!! Y/N laying on chris lap while they do their thing with their eggs omg 🤧🤧 they're so precious"

1K notes · View notes

cheapshrimpysheep · 2 months

Text

There's a Calm Surrender

SUMMARY: The Bead Brawl tournament ends and Leona and the other three run away leaving you, Grim and Jack behind. This causes Neji(Kifaji) to reprimand Leona and trigger him into taking you on a ride to confess to you.

CHARACTERS: Leona Kingscholar x Reader 🦁

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Love Confession; Kiss; Flirting

WARNING: Spoilers from Cloudcalling on the Savanna (Sunset Savanna's Tamashina-Mina) and its respective cards.

WORD COUNT: 2.200 words

COMMENTS: At first, I was going to write scenarios for all the event cards, but as Leona's was so personal, it ended up inspiring me to write a lot. So I decided to let him have his solo post. I'll still write scenarios for the others in a separate post.

By the way, I was undecided whether to use the name Neji or Kifaji, so I used both. 😅

I hope you enjoy. 😘

To escape from Cheka, Neji(Kifaji) and the palace guards who were with them, Leona rushed to the car to drive back to the hotel. Vil, Kalim and Lilia went with him. And you, Grim and Jack were left behind in the rain.

I mean, Leona wanted to escape and the car didn't have seats for everyone but... still... it made you a little sad. At least you had Jack who never left your side. Eventually, Cheka and Neji(Kifaji) reached you, after Leona and the others had already fled. Of course the first thing Neji(Kifaji) did was apologize for Leona's rudeness and offer to take you back to the hotel.

During the ride back, Cheka wanted to stay with you, especially after finding out that the name Leona used to win the tournament was yours. You were like his new favorite person. He even started calling you Unca, like he does with Leona.

There was a moment when it seemed like Neji(Kifaji) was going to correct Checka, perhaps explaining that since you're not married to his uncle, calling you “Unca” as well wouldn't be correct. But for some reason, he interrupted himself with a smile and just said amused: "Yes, they are the real Unca [Y/N]."

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA

When you arrive at the hotel, you decide to take a shower to clean yourself from the rainwater. And after that, you hear two voices arguing in a nearby room. One is from Neji(Kifaji) and the other from Leona. You can't contain your curiosity and lean against the door to listen.

“The other three only went with me because they wanted to!” Leona says “I could have left alone.”

“And you, as a prince, would leave all your guests behind?” Neji(Kifaji) replies “In the middle of the rain? It would be shameful enough if it were discovered that you did it to three of them.”

“There were no more seats in the car.” Leona says in that smug tone of his. “It would be dangerous if I took more people. I took whoever I could and you took the rest. And for that I thank you. For bringing my other dear colleagues when I couldn't.”

“Hum, dear colleagues. Fu fu.” Neji’s(Kifaji) tone sounded like he was smiling in amusement. “Is that all they really are to you, prince Leona?”

“You know even the ‘dear’ part was deceiver sarcasm. And I don't like that smug on your face.”

“Oh, forgive me, Prince Leona. Far be it from me to insinuate that I know, for knowing you, what feelings you hide for them.”

“Feelings? You don't really think they're my friends, do you?”

“I wish. But I didn't mean all of them. I was referring to [Y/N].”

“And what exactly were you referring to?” Leona's voice lost its smug and sounded slightly annoyed.

“You know, Prince Cheka liked them very much. He even started calling them Unca [Y/N]. Something tells me you would like the sound of it.”

“No, I wouldn't. And it's a good thing those thoughts and assumptions of yours never leave your mouth ever again! Or be written in any way!” Leona had a growl in his voice.

“But of course, Prince Leona. I would never do such a thing.” and his tone became more serious. “You let them get closer and at the same time they are the first person you push away.”

“I didn't ask them to come. The furball insisted that he wanted to come and he is unbearable without his caretaker.”

“You are trying to deceive others by deceiving yourself.”

“Mind your own business and get out of mine!” He roars. There is silence for a few seconds.

“Very well. I will withdraw now. Forgive my intrusion, Prince Leona.”

“I will not.”

“But there is a limit to which a person can be pushed.” His footsteps and voice approach the door and the last thing you hear before leaving is the phrase: “Until they find someone who is willing to embrace them.”

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA (later)

It was night. You were only going to return to NRC the next day. You were in your room with Grim and he was already fast asleep, when someone knocks on your door. With your pajamas on, you open it.

Leona looks you up and down. “If you want to come on one last ride, get changed and head to the entrance in half an hour.” He tells you and leaves.

You did as he said and a few seconds later you hear a car approaching. Leona stops, the front passenger door right in front of you ready for you to open and step inside. There's no one else in the car other than the two of you. You can't contain a little smile.

SUNSET SAVANNA - LEONA'S CAR

You ask him where you are going.

“I don't know.” He responds, very naturally.

What did he mean he didn't know? Why did he invite you to take that ride? What was happening?

“I know you heard our conversation.” He says, without taking his eyes off the path and speaking as he normally does. “I heard your footsteps and smelled your scent.” He smirks. “What a rude guest. If he knew maybe he wouldn't praise you so much.”

You apologize.

“It's a little late for that, don't you think? You already overheard a private conversation. And between a prince and the chief chamberlain of his royal family. Few would have such insolence.” he was grinning smugly.

“And what are you going to do with me?” you ask. “For this so-called insolence.”

“I could have you arrested for espionage. I invite you, out of the kindness of my heart, to introduce you to my country and culture, for you to betray me and try to find out personal information about the royal family of Sunset Savana.” He finally looks at you, from the corner of his eyes and with a serious face. “You know I could really do that, right?”

You immediately looked worried and flinched a little.

He laughs. “I’m kidding. Don’t be frightened of each little joke. It's not like I mean any harm to you.”

“Then... what is this?” You ask.

“A night ride.” Leona answers. “Just enjoy it. Look up.”

You do it and you see a beautiful, clear, dark sky full of stars you didn't even know could be seen from earth. He was calmly driving, which made you also feel like everything was okay and that you could relax too. He ended up making his way to the arena where the Bead Brawl tournament took place. But he continued driving toward the colossal boulder that was the tournament's background.

SUNSET SAVANNA - PRIDE ROCK

He parked right at the base of the stone. He gets out of the car, knowing you would follow, and walks up to a locked steel door. He takes a key out of his pocket and opens the door. You ask if you can be there.

“I can. I have the key, don't I?” He starts to climb the stone stairs and you follow him. “Close the door, will ya?” He turns on the lights in the passage and you close the door behind you.

You go up the stairs until you reach a kind of room with a large opening, like a cave. It was blocked by a fence with a locked door, probably for the safety of visitors. You look outside and see that extensive ledge in front of you, the most striking point of that place.

“When planning began to turn this place into a tourist spot,” Leona explained “they thought about placing the fence outlining the stone, to create a landscaped balcony, I think. But the stone has an unstable shape to support a lot of weight, so they blocked the passage here. For the tourists.” He takes the keys again and opens the fence door. “You're not afraid of heights, are you?” He laughs and walks along the ledge.

You go carefully after him. He stops halfway, takes off his cloak and spreads it on the ground. And he lays down beside the cloak.

“I know I'm hot, but wouldn't you rather lie down next to me and see the stars? You can admire me all you want at school.” He was referring to the cloak, it was for you.

You lie down and look back at that wonderful starry sky. It was calming.

“Legend says that it was on this stone that the shaman presented the newborn prince or princess to the other animals.” he tells you, and points to the tip of the stone. “The shama would go there, right on the edge and lifted the cub. Like the golden statue in the city center. I wonder if any lion has ever fallen from there.” he laughs. There's a short moment of silence. “Sorry.”

“Hum? Sorry for what?” you ask

“For leaving you behind in the rain.” he explained looking at the stars. “But if you had been faster I would have brought you too.”

“You’re apologizing?”

“Why are you herbivores always surprised by that?” he sighs.

And then he rolls over and positions himself on top of you with his arms stretched out. Making you look at him with the starry sky behind him.

“And just so we're clear, I didn't want to bring you because this wasn't a vacation. I was just trying to resolve an inconvenience. I didn't want to involve you in these matters, and I just wanted to get this over with quickly.” he smirks “However, I admit it wasn't bad that I had the opportunity to show off in front of you.”

You get flattered, maybe even blush and end up looking down instinctively from his face. But when you do this, your gaze ends up stopping at his torso, with that tight top and the muscles on his abdomen exposed and flexed. And you end up looking to the side, even more flustered, and with a little smile. He interprets this as a green light.

“You heard what Neji(Kifaji) said, right?” He wasn't smiling, but his face was relaxed and he was looking at you with strangely tender eyes. “About you.‘You let them get closer and at the same time they are the first person you push away.’... And you're still here.” he sighs. “Fine, then. I surrender.”

“What do you mean?” you ask “Surrender from what?”

He bends his arms, now supporting himself on his forearms and getting closer to your face.

“From the fight. You’re too persistent. Stronger than me apparently. Always wanting to see me happy. Always present with that smile. You looked like a puppy excited to go for a walk when I let you and Grim come with us... Cute... I’ll put all my cards on the table and give you a choice. And make sure you listen to me because I won't repeat myself. I like you and I'm willing to make you mine. I will give you the choice: Look away and refuse me or kiss me and accept me.”

You take your time. You look at his lips instead of looking away.

“It's your choice, herbivore. Let me be your number one and I'll make you mine... [Y/N].”

You kiss his lips and he lets his body move closer to yours. Until you're in each other's arms. You had started cuddling each other when he tells you:

“Don't tell anyone about this yet. I don't want Neji(Kifaji) to get all cocky thinking he was right and that he had a hand in this.”

“And he didn't?”

“He doesn't need to know that. No one needs. I never thought I'd say it this way, but...” with an arm around your waist he brings you closer. “Hakuna Matata... Let's not worry about it tonight.” and he kisses you again.

You will start to feel him more relaxed, even more than usual. He has nothing left to hide anymore, no feelings to fight against. Instead, he is free to behave however he wants, to hug you, kiss you and fall asleep next to you, especially if you pet his ears. But don't worry, he'll still wake up easily if you need to escape before you two get caught there and people start asking questions.

SUNSET SAVANNA - SUNSET VILLA

The two of you return to the hotel, when you are getting close to separating to go to your rooms, you say good night to Leona and turn to go to your room. But he holds you by the waist.

“And where do you think you're going?” he asks with a smirk. “I skipped the parade, but I still want to celebrate my victory.”

“Do you mean my victory?” you say “After all, I'm pretty sure that masked mysterious warrior that appeared last minute had my name.”

He laughs. “Whoever we celebrate, I want to do it in my room. And I want you there with me.” The way you smile is enough for him to know that you want the same. He picks you up and takes you with him to the prince's bedroom.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

#Twisted Wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst fluff #Twisted Wonderland Fluff #Leona Kingscholar #Leona Kingscholar x Reader

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mattsautumn · 1 month

Text

Pissed off - Matt Sturniolo

Summary; Matt is pissed off about y/n going to a party, but will she make it up to him?

Warnings; Sex, oral (!male receiving), swearing, use of y/n, idk what else.

A/N; THANK ALL SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 100 FOLLOWERS!! it means a lot, i love you all!!

━─━────༺༻────━─━

Matt barely had any bad days, but if he had one he would be pissed off. Most of the times when it would happen, you and him would argue and later forget about it, but now it was different. You went out with some friends and you didn’t tell Matt. Eventually a friend of you posted a picture online and he saw it. He didn’t like this, so he started ignoring you.

You walk into his room, noticing he’s busy with his playstation. It’s clear that he’s angry at you.

“Matt? Hey..” you speak up. His fingers clench the mouse tightly, his face red with anger.

“Im sorry for what i did okay..?”

He pauses the game and turns to face you, his eyes blazing with jealousy. “You think it's okay to just disappear without a word?” He says. You sigh, not knowing what to say.

His voice is low and dangerous, barely contained rage simmering just below the surface. “Did you even think about me once? Did you ever consider that maybe I might want to know where you are? That maybe I might be worried about you?” His hands ball into fists at his sides.

“Im sorry, i should’ve told you.” You apologize. He scoffs, not mollified in the least. “Sorry? That's it? Don't you think you owe me more than just a sorry?” He shifts in his seat, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “So where did you go?” He asks.

“Jim’s party.” You admit. Jim was someone you both knew from high school and he wasn’t exactly matt’s favorite. His eyes narrow, his jealousy turning into anger. “Jim's party? And why didn't you tell me?” He stands up, towering over you, the rage visible in every line of his body. “Are you trying to hurt me on purpose? Is that it?”

“No matt! I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just wanted to have fun..”

A deep breath leaves his mouth. He’s trying to control his anger, but it's clear that he's still upset. “You wanted to have fun? And you couldn't even spare a thought for me? Was it really that hard to send a text?” His voice is tense with frustration.

“im sorry.. can i make it up to you, please?” You beg. Matt sighs, rubbing the back of his neck as he sits back down. “Fine. What do you want to do?”

A smirk forms on your face as you sink to your knees in-front of him. His eyes flicker down to you, and he raises an eyebrow at your sudden closeness. “What are you doing?”

“Oh you know.. just.. this.” You say as you unbuckle his belt. His breath hitches as he watches you. “Oh, I see. You want to play that game, huh?” He leans back in his seat, letting you continue unbuckling his belt before he reaches down and brushes a hand through your hair.

You take off his belt, pants and underwear until his cock is in-front of you, fully erect. He lets out a soft sigh as you remove his pants and underwear, revealing his bare legs. He looks down at you, his eyes darkening with desire. “Alright, let's see how you plan on making it up to me.” He spreads his legs slightly, inviting you to sit between them.

You suck on his slit, making him shudder at the first touch of your tongue and letting out a soft gasp. He threads his hands through your hair, holding you close as you continue licking. “Y-yes, just like that...” He lets out a soft moan, his hips twitching slightly as you continue. A groan escapes his mouth as he leans his head back in pleasure as you take him fully into your mouth. He grips the arms of his chair tightly, his breathing growing heavier as you continue to move your mouth. “Ah, fuck... that's so good..”

You pump your head up and down his cock, determined to make him cum. He thrusts his hips up into your mouth, moaning loudly as he gets closer and closer to climax. He can't help but grip your hair tighter, rolling his head back in ecstasy. “God, yes... oh fuck, I'm gonna cum...” he moans out.

You keep going and going.

He suddenly bursts into a loud, desperate cry, his entire body shaking as he cums hard in your mouth. He grips your hair so tightly it almost hurts as he thrashes in his chair, his cum shooting down your throat in thick, hot spurts. “Fuck! Oh fuck!”

As he comes down from his high, you pull back, happy with your work. He collapses back in his chair, panting heavily as he looks at you with a dazed expression. He's still gripping your hair tightly, his heart racing from the intense orgasm. “H-holy shit...” He finally releases your hair, running a hand through it instead.

“Was that good, baby? You still mad?” You ask him. He looks at you with a mix of annoyance and satisfaction, his chest still heaving from his orgasm. “I'm still mad, but...” He trails off, his gaze drifting back to your mouth. “Maybe not as mad as I was before.”

“Do i need to show you again how sorry i am?” You look up at him, smiling innocently. He looks down at you with a smirk, his chest still heaving slightly. “i dont think im able to take it.”

“Oh we’ll see about that.” You say, biting your lip.

And that, that was the most memorable moment ever.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

yalllll i love this! Make sure to follow me for more<3

#christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #sturniolo x reader

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ew-selfish-art · 1 year

Text

Dpxdc AU: Danny can’t fix Jason’s whole…deal… and doesn’t want to answer any questions on ectoplasm but he can get Jason to the best therapist he knows! Jason mistakes Danny constantly pushing Jazz his way as an awkward little brother move to set them up romantically- which uh, isn't necessarily a bad thing? Jazz has her own vested interests.

… heads up that this got long...

Jason ran his hands through this hair, relieving them from their previous position of cradling his face in embarrassment. Why was he sitting in a nice cafe with Danny’s redhead sister and a five dollar chai latte? For all the awkward live wire feelings he had, at least she was calm and composed. How many times had this happened already?

“So… the green stuff again?” Jazz asks, taking a sip from her own stupidly expensive drink and giving him eyebrows that beg for his explanation.

“Yeah. I was trying to get your brother to explain stuff without all the science mumbo jumbo. I just, I guess that means he defers to you.” Jason sighed, and tried to not think about how pretty her eyes were as she observed him.

“Not likely. But is the search for your answers helping you cope from day to day or making you climb an impossible mountain?” Jazz asks and it makes Jason fluster.

“It’s a moving goal post, sure, but I need answers if I’m going to fix my-“

“I think it might help you to realize that people don’t need to be fixed, they just need to grow.” Jazz interrupts.

They finish their drinks in a comfortable nonchalance, the rest of their conversation doesn’t go anywhere beyond their mutual hobbies and he’s grateful for that.

Jason's been doing a lot of introspection since this all started.

——

The first time it happened was months ago.

He confronts Danny after a mission, just wanting a simple answer on whether or not Danny thought the Lazarus pit contained ectoplasm? Could ectoplasm be separated from blood? Danny looked a little uncomfortable.

“Look dude, I know you want to know more but like, having this info isn’t going to help you. You need to talk it out.” Danny sounds sad and his eyes are filed with something adjacent to pity. It riles up the pit inside him.

“Oof. See that whole reaction thing. That’s not ectoplasmic, that’s something different. C’mon follow me.” Phantom cringes as he talks to him, and then floats across the rooftops, going slow enough that Jason can keep up on his grapple.

The arrive at a modest apartment building, not too far from his territory but clearly outside of it. Danny opens a window and slides in ahead of Jason, and all of a sudden he’s seated at a kitchen table with hot chocolate and teal blue eyes peering into his soul.

“Danny, some warning next time you’re bringing a crime boss to my apartment.” Jazz sighs and its not said with any malice or sarcasm. Danny gives her a grin and a peace sign before disappearing.

“So you want to talk about it?” Jazz turns back to him and asks.

“About?” Jason’s deep voice is going through the modulator and it sounds more sinister than it should.

“Death. Dying. The afterlife. Those are the normal things Danny brings people to me for.” She blinks.

“There’s a misunderstanding, I don’t need to talk, I need answers on Ectoplasm.” He grits out.

"Hm. Well that's not my field of study, but I can tell you that however your feeling is probably a valid response towards the trauma you've faced in life. Do you think showing yourself some kindness might lessen your desire to know the knitty gritty details?"

Jason scoffs.

"Oh. You're serious. No. I don't think being kind to myself is a valid approach to dealing with an infection that's cost me a lot of family relationships." Jason rolls his eyes. The woman looks contemplative for a moment and Jason can tell that while the dim kitchen lights are doing her no favors, she's incredibly beautiful. He pockets that information and refuses to think about it.

"So...Lets take this a different direction. Do you think successful people know what they're doing or do you think successful people need help to get where they want to go?"

"Most people are dumb and trying to get by." Jason grits out.

"So, accept that you're dumb. And then get by." Jazz replies, and then sighs and leaves the room.

Jason however, is now pissed off. Who the heck was she to say that to him?

____

The next time he finds himself across the table from Jazz, he's been on a wild goose chase with Danny and lands himself in a fancy restaurant. Why the hell was she here?

"Uh, it's called self care." Jazz replies, because apparently Jason asked that out loud. But he's not going to let this lead get away from him.

He takes off his helmet, years of muscle memory make him check that his Domino mask was in place, and sits down across from her. She raises a brow and then sighs.

"You think Danny might give me answers if I hold you hostage over, what is that, some kind of gnocchi dish?"

"Mm. Probably not." Jazz says, taking a bite and pulling out her phone.

"You're just going to ignore me then?" Jason finds himself a bit flabbergasted, he was a fucking crime lord, not someone to be ignored! Like he's just- just some bad blind date!

"Uh huh. You don't want to work on your issues and it's not my job to lead a stubborn horse to water."

"The expression is that you can lead a horse to water but you can't-"

"Can't what? Or are you still going to tell me it's not a huge waste of my time to tell you that you need to accept and forgive yourself to be able to move on. Find peace. Rest." Jazz is taking bites between her last few words but her glare remains unshakeable.

Jason is about to get up and leave when a terrified waiter comes over: "A dish, as compliments from the chef. Your guest's meal as well." He's shaking as he speaks and it makes Jason feel bad.

"Thanks." He grits out.

"...Is that the lasagna?" Jazz is looking at his food curiously, and Jason pushes it forward to indicate that she can take a bite. Probably not the safest thing for a civilian to do considering people regularly try to poison Jason but, meh. He's kind of pissed off at her still.

"It's pretty good. I was debating between that and the gnocchi- Okay let's think about this differently. You want to know about the green stuff, Danny is never going to tell a mortal about it and you keep denying yourself basic self-respect. What does your support system look like?"

"You're really pushing my buttons lady-" Jason can feel the green, but after a breath and seeing her unimpressed gaze "-I have a few friends who know what my deal is, I have an older brother who claims to forgive me, and a merry band of goons that I call my henchmen."

"Henchpeople?" Jazz asks.

"I mean, sure. That's more accurate."

"What do you do for fun?" She asks.

"I take down crime syndicates-" she levels him with another glare, he wonders why its so effective on him "-I read."

"Yeah? What genres?"

"Classics." He can admit only that much.

"Nerd. Are you going to eat any of that? You really shouldn't let food waste like that when it's not even fighting back."

"I don't know why I'm even bothering to talk to you right now." Jason spoke plainly.

"I dunno either but it's easier to tolerate you without the stupid helmet speaker. Anyway, If you like to read, hopefully that means you like to see new scenarios, new plots, stuff like that. You ever think to put yourself in side-character mode and contemplate what your whole deal is bringing to the table?"

"...How so?"

"Like, if you don't think it's worth it to treat yourself well, how do the main characters feel? Or, you know, if you were a child reading your story, what would you shout at them to move forward differently?"

"... I've decided that I only read poetry." Jason grumbles, trying to deflect with humor the fact that he does have some thoughts about what she's saying. She actually laughs at his joke though- he hadn't anticipated that.

"Uh, what is the Dr. Suess line? Stop telling outlandish tales, stop turning minnows into whales? something like that."

"Dr. Suess? Really?" Jason laughs.

"Sorry Mr. Classics, I spent most of my childhood raising my brother, forgive me for not knowing any fancy poetry." She huffs but he can tell she's laughing with him still.

They get off the topic of his mental health crisis and it turns out the Lasagna isn't half bad.

----

Jason keeps chasing Danny. Danny keeps leading him to Jazz. It goes for a few rounds before the ghost kid makes a joke about Jason liking her better anyway. Jason asks what the hell Phantom means by that, but Danny just laughs and says that Jason should just ask for her number.

...This does not sit right in his gut all of a sudden. Does he think that, that Jason is only pursuing this knowledge to keep talking to Jazz?? Does Danny want him to pursue Jazz? Does HE want to pursue Jazz???

----

He spots the Replacement in the Cave's lab before he heads upstairs to grab a cookie and leave as a civilian. The reason he even looked that way being that Tim is holding glowing green vials.

"Is that-"

"Yeah. They're literally the same except for the magic mumbo jumbo that Ra's has mixed in with the pit. Leave me alone now."

"So there is a way to heal it or, or extract it or-" Jason can feel his heart racing, but his constantly-exhausted sibling is looking at him like he's grown a second head.

"Dude. You're not gunna be able to flush it out with like, a juice cleanse. You're probably better off trying to find a magic user to deal with the curses and a therapist to do the rest." Tim looks like he's trying to be patient despite being deeply, deeply vexxed.

"Therapist- why in the hell would I-"

"I mean hasn't that been Danny's entire solution for you? He's only had one strategy the whole time he's lived in Gotham." Jason rolls his eyes.

"His solution is setting me up on dates with his sister not-"

"Dates!?! His sister is THE break out psychologist, she's done more for Arkham in the last year than decades of political reform! You've been goin on- wheez- oh my god I have to call Danny-" Tim is cackling, the lazarus water all but abandoned.

"Don't you fucking dare!"

After a (from both brothers) number of punches, a few headlocks and a large portion of threats, Jason agrees that Tim can tell his boyfriend but no one else.

Kon can keep a secret right? That's why he's the favorite?

----

"So... You and Jazz huh?" Danny looks amused as he floats by- Kon could not be trusted. The entire Justice league knows. Jason might have to die again. Apparently he said as much.

"Oh buddy, it's okay! You don't have to die again! I'm sure that if she likes you, she likes you just as you are, weird little zombie boy." Danny teases, turning intangible as Jason swings a punch at him.

"What do you mean if she likes me?" Jason asks, swinging with his grapple, trying to keep up with Danny.

"You think I read her diary or something? Weirdo. You need to talk to her about it tho, it's funny and all but I'm sure she's not a fan of the JL hot goss."

"I didn't start any of this-"

"My guy. Chill. I know, but uh, I did definitely tell her about it so... Oh look! We made it all the way to her apartment! BYE!"

Jazz is standing in the window and she looks like an absolute vision. Her glare makes him want to shit his pants however, and he knows that it's going to take all of his brain cells making contact to survive this encounter.

He sits on the fire escape when he realizes that she's not moving from her spot in the window, blocking his way. Ouch.

"So let me get this straight, you thought this whole time-"

"I thought Danny was being annoying and trying to set us up! I didn't know you were a shrink!" He tries to defend himself.

"...Why should I date an idiot?" the like yourself goes unsaid but he can hear it. Jason is scrambling.

"...I can make even better lasagna than that fancy restaurant you like." is what he lands on. Jazz bursts out a laugh.

"I was just fucking with you, but honestly what a great response." She's wiping tears of laughter from her eyes.

"Just fucking with me?" He grins a bit, unable to stop himself from getting excited.

"Yeah, I've been telling everyone at work that I'm dating the Red Hood for like, months now. It's been stellar for my hostage record, I haven't had an issue since I started the rumor!"

"We're dating?" Jason asks, a bit bewildered but charmed.

"I wouldn't give free therapy to just anyone! Now about that Lasagna-"

Something, something, something- they seal the deal with a kiss.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dc crossover #dp crossover #anger management ship #hardcover ship #jasonxjazz #jazz x jason #long post #phanfic #jazz fenton

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tiredfox64 · 3 months

Note

I absolutely LOVE your “You Have Freedom” fic!! We need more Havik appreciation—

Can you write about Havik w an S/O that changes her hair almost every other week?? Kinda like Ramona Flowers from Scott Pilgrim.

You’re that bestest ever💖🔊‼️

Chaos Chameleon

Yip notes: Ugh I need to redye my raccoon tails again. I think I need to buy a better dye cause the black part is the only lasting color 😭

Pairing: Havik x Afab reader

Warnings‼️: Don’t clutch your pearls due to dyed hair it’s 2024

It’s a mystery how you could afford so much hair dye and take good care of it to keep the color popping.

You are not the kind of girl who picks natural hair colors like black, brown, blonde, or ginger. No, you go for the colors that shock old people and make children want to be you. From the bright neon colors that are fit for a rave to the soft pastel colors that would have been perfect for a Tumblr post when pastel goth was popular. Why stick to one hair color when the universe has an abundance of colors for you to try out? It’s never too late to have fun with the body you were blessed with.

As much as you loved dying your hair and seeing how the color popped off in the sun, there was someone else who loved the sight of it as well. That someone would be Havik.

He knew you had a bit of a chaotic side when he first saw you with your hair split into two colors. You looked like sweet cotton candy with one side of your hair being a blush pink and the other side being a baby blue. Add in the fact that you had black strips in the front part of your hair to make raccoon tails, you caught his attention quickly. He was already showing you off to Darrius before he introduced himself to you.

“Darrius, have you ever seen an Earthrealmer this exotic? I had no clue they could be so colorful.”

“Well, if you like her so much why don’t you go introduce yourself?” Darrius said in a somewhat annoyed tone, finding Havik’s fascination with some hair to be a weird distraction.

However, Havik took his words seriously and jumped at the opportunity. You could kinda thank Darrius for meeting your boyfriend. If it weren’t for his sarcasm you wouldn’t have seen a large man with a mangled face and strange clothes running towards you. Sure, it was horrific at first but once he complimented your hair you realized he wasn’t all that bad.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Gosh, Havik didn’t know there were so many different colors. And yet you manage to own a lot of them in bottles and containers.

He got used to the smell of hair dye and how it differed between colors and brands. There were a lot of Arctic Fox bottles scattered around while there were containers of Manic Panic stacked on shelves. All of them were opened and used at least once. They had to be considering you dye your hair often. You dye it almost every other week.

It was a shock to Havik. One week it’s like cotton candy on your head and the next week it’s lemons and limes. When he asked you why you changed it so quickly you replied,

“I’ve had it for two weeks, it’s time for a change.”

Sometimes it’s just one color, sometimes it’s split, multicolor, two-tone, ombre, the list never ends. He likes it when you hide one color under another, it’s like a surprise. One moment he thinks it’s just a silvery white but the second he runs his fingers through it, BAM, a plum purple color right under it. Get ready for your hair to get messy and possibly knotted because he will not stop playing with it.

You always clarify the specific color name too. Cause it could never be just blue. It’s always something specific when all he can identify is that it’s blue and sometimes it’s dark. He can sometimes identify aquamarine he just needs to think about the ocean.

If only you told Havik every time you dyed your hair. He’s irresponsible with time, he doesn’t realize when weeks have passed by unless he is waiting for something to happen. The second time you dyed your hair he had no idea it was you at first. That lemon and lime hair now turned into a fiery red that could only be compared to a ripe watermelon. When you went up to hug him he pushed you off of him.

“Get your hands off of me, woman!” He yelled.

“It’s me you idiot!” You yelled back.

“What!”

He stared at you for a few seconds, blinking rapidly before realizing it was you. No strange woman was trying to force themselves upon him.

“Oh…it’s nice.” He tried to fix his wrongs by giving a compliment. The head pat doesn’t fix it either.

Nonetheless, he still loves what you do to your hair. It’s crazy, it’s colorful, it’s a burst of your personality. He’s never witnessed a girl like you. You are a rare, colorful gem who can match his chaotic energy. So…why doesn’t he dye his hair?

Eventually, you would suggest doing his hair. It is quite long so there is lots of potential there. You even have a dark red that would match well with his attire. If that man can wear bones as clothes, it’s safe to say he could allow some dye in his hair. So you pleaded and begged, whined and nagged. Then finally he said,

“Give me a good color. Don’t you dare make it neon or that ugly pastel mess.”

“Aww, but you would look so cute with light pink hair.” You teased.

“…I love you, but I won’t hesitate to rip my head off and crush it just to prevent you from putting that stupid color on me.”

“Oh, you’re such a drama king. Come on, I’m gonna make you my masterpiece.”

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You were like a painter who couldn’t risk anything. Your masterpiece had to be perfect. One wrong move and you might have to switch up your idea.

IF ONLY HAVIK WOULD SIT STILL!

You didn’t do his whole head of hair like you usually did with yourself. Gotta take baby steps with this kind of stuff. You colored some strands of his hair with the front being special. You were going to do a raccoon tail since that was his favorite thing. He specifically pointed it out when you first met him. Plus, he has black hair so there is no need to use any dye for the black parts. Just use that dark red and go for it.

Havik never knew the process took so long. It would have been much longer if you decided to bleach the strands. That would have been a whole new struggle. You wanted to keep the color dark so it worked out. Still meant he had to sit still for a while and get sprayed with water to remove the excessive dye. Did you need to spray him directly in the face? No, but it was funny.

You were about to show Havik the end result but you hesitated.

“Wait,” you paused for a while, “I want to do the other side too.”

“Ugh! We have been at it all day!” Not really but it’s been two hours.

“I promise it will be worth it! I’m having fun with this, don’t kill my vibe!” You pushed him back in his chair before putting more dye in the bowl. Round two here we go.

Yeah, you wanted to dye the shaved side as well. You were gonna do a raccoon tail look for it. Havik had to sit there for another hour-long process, feeling your nails dig into his head to prevent him from moving and having the cold dye touch his scalp. Guess this shows how much Havik loves you. He’s willing to sit here and take it.

Time to splash him with water again. Don’t put the hair dryer on high you’re gonna remind him of when his face first melted off. BOOM! He is finished. You brought him over to your mirror so he could get a good look at himself. And…well…he loved it. It was different and unique. The raccoon tail was what caught his eye the most. He ran his fingers through his hair to see the red and black strands mixed together before separating. You knew he truly liked it once he picked you up and squeezed you tightly to his body. He nuzzled his face against yours to show his appreciation which you gladly accepted.

Just then Darrius walked in and immediately noticed something different about Havik. Havik was about to tell Darrius about what you did but he was interrupted by a question.

“Who is that woman? Where is your girlfriend?”

“THAT IS MY GIRLFRIEND! IT IS THE SAME GIRLFRIEND EVERY WEEK. I CAN NOT KEEP EXPLAINING TO YOU THAT SHE DYES HER HAIR!”

Darrius really needs to take his glasses off when he’s inside.

Yap notes: Can you tell which gear I like to put on him? I enjoyed doing this it helped my brain a little since the writer's block has been kicking my butt. Oh well, time to eat more Wing Stop. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #havik x you #havik x reader #mk1 havik #havik mk1 #havik mortal kombat #havik mk #mk havik #mortal kombat havik #havik #I finna steal Darrius’ glasses

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pastshadows · 8 months

Text

Shadows of the Past

Chapter 7: Complications Abound

Summary: After a year of blissful cohabitation, Astarion disappears without a trace, leaving behind a heartfelt letter explaining his departure. Determined to find him, you traverse Faerûn in search of your lost love, only to realize that some absences are meant to be permanent.

Returning to Waterdeep, you find solace in the company of Gale as you come to terms with Astarion's absence. But just as you begin to heal, Astarion reappears, begging for a second chance at love.

The question looms: can you forgive his abandonment and trust him once more? As you grapple with your emotions and trauma, a sinister force lurks in the shadows, targeting you for unknown reasons.

With danger closing in, you must navigate the treacherous waters of trust, love, and betrayal to uncover the truth behind the mysterious entity's motives. Will you be able to reunite with Astarion while facing the demons of your past? Can you unravel the secrets that threaten your very existence?

Setting: Post End-Game. Mostly canon compliant.

Word Count: 6.7K

Content: Explicit 18+ - intended for mature audiences.

Warnings: [Additional tags will be added, but expect mature content / read at your own risk.]

Spoilers. Mentions of in-game missable content. Violence. Sexual Assault [Implied/attempted sexual assault: Chapter 7]. Past Trauma. Murder. Death. Longing. Sexual themes. Smut. Blood drinking. Angst. Innuendos. High use of sarcasm. Completely fabricated camp interactions.

** Warning ** This chapter contains implied/attempted sexual assault. Please be careful and read at your own risk.

The Sussur Bloom’s glow pours like a phosphorescent waterfall over the delicate blue petals. You can taste the honey-sweet aroma of the flower suspended in the air.

You observe it acutely, trying to figure out where the boundary of its effect terminates.

Aldous grins deplorably, “You would not believe how much this cost to procure.”

Does he think that will impress me?

Drawing in a deep breath, you calm your rampaging heart and swallow the terror balled in your throat.

Adorning your face with an overtly sweet, innocent smile, you summon every snippet of charisma you possess, “A beautiful flower indeed.”

“Not half as beautiful as my current company,” Aldous winks.

Ew.

“Where is your father?” your eyes flash around, assessing the surroundings for advantages you may be able to exploit, “I believe he should join us.”

“Father is away on business. He will not be participating in this discussion tonight.”

Convenient.

“Perhaps we should postpone this little discourse until your father returns.”

Aldous ignores you, “Did you know that the Sussur Bloom nullifies all magic in its vicinity? A useful item against an ornery sorceress.”

“Aldous…”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he sneers, wagging his finger at you, “You will give me the respect I am due.”

HA! A ludicrous notion.

You clench your teeth so hard that the nerves sing, “Saer, I’d like to-”

“Where is the man who was with you?” Aldous cuts you off, “The Elf.”

The door lock clicks, and you nearly wince, but you keep your illusion of poise intact. A grin slinks across Aldous’s lips as he stalks toward you.

“There was no other Elf. You were roaring drunk.”

He chuckles sinisterly, “You may have been able to pull the wool over my father's eyes, but I am not so easily fooled.”

The distance between you and Aldous recedes as he continues his menacing approach. You take wary steps backward, striving to retain as much space as possible.

The poorly lit gloom only deepens as you’re pressured further to the rear of the shop.

Glancing at the door behind Aldous, you concentrate on the stained-glass window. Daylight is fading fast. You silently rejoice and then scold yourself harshly for it.

I shouldn’t be counting on Astarion to save me.

You soak your voice in your most persuasive, candied inflection, “We can sort this little mishap out. There’s no need to involve anyone else.”

“Who is he?!” Aldous rasps.

Anger. A weakness I can exploit.

“No one.”

“Don’t play dull, Sorceress. I will pry it out of you one way or another.”

“I don’t know who you’re talking about,” you smirk patronizingly, “It seems you’re seeing ghosts. Perhaps a visit to a healer is in order?”

Aldous growls threateningly at your taunting. His teeth scour together harshly, sending shivers rushing up your spine, making your stomach reel and pitch.

“He means much to you,” he sneers, “You protect him by putting yourself in harm’s way,” Aldous’s finger taps his chin, “I can’t help but wonder why he would let you come alone. Perhaps you don’t mean as much to him as he does to you.”

“Perhaps,” you shrug, “I don’t."

“You shouldn’t settle for that, Sorceress.”

This little shit dares scold me?

“As if I care what you think.”

“You deserve someone like me,” his hand comes to his puffed-up chest arrogantly, “prestigiously bred of noble blood, wealthy, handsome, and influential. Someone who can provide you with a life of luxury.”

“Gods, you sicken me.”

Aldous places the Sussur Bloom on a table behind him, but close enough that you are within the negating influence.

His face burns red, brows pinched in a nightmarish scowl, “You’re going to have a very miserable night then.”

“If you fucking touch me, I will kill you.”

Not a threat, a fucking promise.

“You’re all bark and no bite without your magic. I will take my apology in whatever form I choose.”

Your stomach warps nauseatingly, and you swallow the bile that soars into your throat.

Grabbing the hidden dagger in your boot, you swipe at Aldous frantically, grazing a weeping cut across his pudgy stomach.

Aldous lunges at you with a howl, grabbing your arm and twisting it, slamming it hard against the corner of a towering bookcase. The dagger rattles to the floor, and Aldous kicks it away swiftly.

“You miserable swine!” he barks, eyes savage and enraged.

Aldous pins you to the bookcase with a bruising grip. His chest puts so much pressure on yours that the air you inhale whines when drawn into your constricted lungs.

Gods, please, just a little longer.

Aldous wrenches at the high collar of your robe, and a snarling shriek tears from your throat. His forehead slams into your face, cutting off your scream.

Pain causes a disorienting parade of light to erupt behind your eyes, and your lip swells and aches furiously. The sharp, ferrous tang of blood coats your tongue.

You spit, and red-tinged droplets splatter across Aldous’s face, “I should have killed you.”

“My, my, what's this on your neck?” he snickers while eyeing the bite mark marring your flesh, “If you like to be bitten, all you had to do was ask nicely. I would have happily obliged.”

Your stomach churns with the insinuation. You yearn to see the little worm beg and plead for you to spare his life."

Pale hands rip Aldous backward.

Astarion’s voice resounds in the dark, “I hear you like to bite, but do you like to be bitten?”

Aldous shrieks as sharp fangs sink into the supple flesh of his neck. You stand, a wicked smile on your face, watching the life slowly drain from Aldous’s eyes.

You could ask Astarion to stop. You could spare the feeble runt his life. You could, but you don’t.

I was never a hero.

Astarion releases him when his eyes are dull and listless, and Aldous’s body crumbles to the floor.

The door creaks unexpectedly, making you jump, and you grasp at the intrinsic magic usually ever-present, only to find a yawning void.

Right. Where is that godsdamned flower?

Gale jogs in, huffing harshly out of breath. Eyeing the Sussur Bloom sitting innocently on the table, you throw it down and grind it to nothing but a blue paste smeared across the floor with your boot.

Astarion and Gale study you with apprehension as if worried you may buckle and break apart. You cross your arms and frown at them.

How soft do they think I am?

“I don’t need mollycoddling like a spoon-fed babe,” you tut, clearly vexed, “What are we going to do about him?”

Gale’s fingers his chin, “This will certainly complicate things.”

“I will handle this,” Astarion concludes.

“No,” you stammer, “I can help.”

Astarion shakes his head, “You and Gale go for a lovely, very long, relaxing night stroll. Greet, chat, mingle with everyone you see, stop at a pub and drink; I care not, just make sure you are seen far from here.”

Gale nods, “We must set the lanceboard in our favour, so to speak. Astarion can handle this. This is hardly the first body he’s had to make disappear.”

Astarion smirks, “Far from it.”

“I could simply set this whole place ablaze,” you muse.

An excuse, more than anything, to see this place eradicated from existence.

Gale pales, “Burn all these books?”

Astarion snickers and sighs dramatically, “Truly, darling, did you not consider the books?!”

You roll your eyes, “They would make for fine kindling.”

Gale mumbles, mouth agape, “How unseemly.”

Astarion giggles at the ill-humoured scowl darkening Gale’s face before looking at you, “Still that twitchy palm of yours. Nothing screams guilty like a raging, fiery inferno.”

“I suppose you are the expert in these matters, Astarion.”

“Oh,” he grins, “Please do continue showering me with your praises.”

“Good Gods,” Gale grumbles, “We should not linger, my friend.”

“Fine,” you throw your hands up, exasperated, “I will spare the damn books.”

Astarion snaps his fingers, “Gale, the scroll, if you please.”

The scroll?

You cock your brow at him. Astarion unrolls the scroll, recites the incantation, and it vanishes.

The swell and tender ache in your lower lip dissipates. Astarion pulls a handkerchief out and wipes the leftover drops of blood from your chin that had dribbled down from the split in your lip.

“Good as new,” he purrs, but there is concern laden in his eyes.

“Your incantations need work,” you tease to relieve Astarion’s anxiety.

He grins but clicks his tongue in disapproval, “As do your manners, it seems.”

Gale weaves you through small, dim alleys and paths while avoiding the populace until you’re far from the shop.

Once you can return to the main thoroughfare, Gale skillfully greets passersby, striking up mundane conversations to ensure you’re noticed and seen.

Neither Gale nor you speak of what happened until you’re safely back in the manor.

“Fuck,” your fingers wrack through your hair, “I’m so sorry, Gale.”

“You need not be,” Gale squeezes your shoulder, “I’m just glad you’re alright.”

“We need a plan.”

Run. Run. Run. Take Astarion and run - your mind chants.

Hells. My inclination toward avoidance has gotten out of hand.

Gale pats your arm, “What have we always done?”

“Outflank. Outsmart,” you echo his words.

“Spot on,” he grins, “We can delve further into the particulars come morning.”

“You’re right,” you take a calming breath, “I think that’s about enough excitement for today.”

“You have a strange notion of excitement, my friend,” Gale chuckles, “Now if you will excuse me, I am in dire need of a bath. Hells. That vampiric bastard can move swiftly. Perhaps I have gotten indolent in retirement.”

After bathing and changing, you sit on your bed and stare at the unfilled space beside you. Just this morning, you had awoken in Astarion’s room, and your eyes overindulged on the sight of him still peacefully at rest.

Can I go back to resting and waking up alone again? Moreover, do I want to?

No.

Your heart whimpers in your chest at the concept, sinking into your stomach with a quiver. The battle between your fearfulness and what you want continues to war on. Everything you crave is situated on the other side of your doubt.

Why do you keep yourself seated in the dark abyss you retreated to when he left when the light is right in front of you, and all you have to do is walk into it?

I’m still running.

Coward.

Reprimanding yourself for being so spineless, you leave the emptiness of your bed behind and make yourself some tea. Sinking into the chair on the terrace, your legs curl up under you.

The waves flourish and flaunt in the inlet, making the boats dance in concert and the tangy brine of the sea wafts in the air. Coasting clouds cause the pastel glow of the new moon to wax and wane.

The fluttering beat of wings alerts you to Tara’s approach before you see her soar and land on the terrace with a grace only she and Astarion could muster.

The pitter-patter of her little paws on the wood boards makes you smile as she draws near.

Tara stretches her wings before settling, “Would you like some company while you await the vampire’s return?”

“Tara, do you know the vampire’s name?”

“Of course,” she scowls, “You’ve been calling out to him in your sleep for months.”

Oh…

Right.

“Why do you keep calling him vampire then?”

“He calls me cat or cat with wings, does he not?” she huffs exasperatedly, “It does not vex him as I hoped, though.”

You giggle at her, “You must try much harder if you wish to aggravate him.”

She nods curly as if she’s taken that into advisement, “I have not seen you out here recently. What is troubling you this night?”

Patting your lap, you invite her up, “It’s hard to find enough peace to rest when your heart is at war with your mind.”

Tara jumps up and lays down with a soft purr, “Have you always been so meek?”

Meek? Not a word I would have ever described myself with.

“No,” you stare off into the distance blankly.

Her round eyes reflect what little light the moon provides, “You have been lonely here, yes?”

How does she know these things?

The unmistakable glint of unshed tears brims in your eyes, “Is there a cure for loneliness?”

She cocks her head, confused, “You do not seem lonely when he is near.”

“I-” your brows pinch together, she’s right again, you think, “I suppose I’m not.”

“Then he is the cure you seek.” Tara concludes, “May I speak bluntly?”

She’s never asked before. This should be good.

“Please do.”

“You are being an idiot,” she says factually.

You laugh, almost spewing your tea at Tara’s curtness, “I’m sorry. Care to elaborate?”

“The longer you keep yourself tethered to this unhappiness, the longer you will live a life not meant for you.”

I hate how right she is.

Your fingers tap the mug fretfully as tears tiptoe out of the corners of your eyes, “What if I can’t get over my fear, Tara?”

Tara puts her paws on your chest, levelling her green eyes with yours with a stern yet empathetic glower, “Then you must do it afraid, Sorceress.”

She makes it sound so simple.

But it is really that simple, isn't it?

You stifle back a sniffle and scratch behind her ear, “Stop being so smart and wise.”

“Perhaps when you stop being an idiot.”

Another strangled laugh escapes your throat as you stroke her silky fur, making her purr loudly. Resting your head on the high-backed chair, your eyes flutter shut.

“You must do it afraid.”

I will.

I just need a little more time.

Tara leaps off your lap, and your eyes open sleepily to see Astarion standing before you. Dirt streaks the pale skin of his face and hands, and trails, where sweat rolled down his temples and forehead, are evident.

“Wake up, sweetheart.”

You scan the sky as the haze clouding your vision disperses slowly. It must be only hours from dawn.

Your nose crinkles, “You smell like dirt.”

“I thought I would try something new; groundskeeper with a hint of grave robber,” his brow cocks seductively, “Is it working for you?”

You giggle, “Absolutely not.”

“Well,” he pouts with a dramatic sigh, “don’t be afraid to tell me what you really think.”

“I think you really need a bath.”

“I do love it when you sass me,” he tuts, “Naughty thing. What are you doing resting out there? You’re shivering fiercely.”

“I was talking to Tara,” your teeth chatter together, “I must have drifted off.”

He kisses your forehead, “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up inside,” Walking through the kitchen, Astarion turns to you, “Are you gracing my bed with your delicious self again tonight, friend?”

Hells. I was heading to his room without even thinking about it.

“Do you want me to?”

“It’s up to you,” Astarion shrugs as if it doesn’t matter, but there’s a hint of hope reflected in the scarlet of his irises.

Gods, tell me we belong together. Please.

“Tell me what you want, Astarion.”

“You, my love. Always and forevermore, you,” he purrs, taking your hand, “My bed it is.”

Astarion’s room is a chasm of blackness when you enter. With a flick of your wrist, you light the candles instantly with a smug smile.

He chuckles, “I forgot how handy you are to have around.”

“Truly indispensable,” you chime back in jest.

“Better set that ablaze as well,” Astarion points to the fireplace, “You get grouchy when you’re cold.”

You gasp, hand coming to your mouth theatrically, “I’m never grouchy!”

“Oh, don’t fret, my dear,” he glowers at you playfully, “You’re adorable when you're grouchy.”

“Go bathe, you smell.”

He giggles with a shallow bow, “As the lady wishes.”

You sit on the edge of Astarion’s bed, and a smile trails across your lips. These moments with him feel so familiar, so right, and they quiet the clashing present inside you.

Why are you making things so complicated for yourself? It could be as simple as telling him you want to be with him, so why don’t you?

He would finally stop calling me “friend,” at least.

Astarion returns with only a towel hanging loosely around his waist. He nudges your legs apart with his knee and leans in close. His hands slip up the bed by your sides, forcing you to lean back until you’re propped up on your forearms. Your heart parades in your chest, seemingly skipping beats the closer he leans into you.

“Well, you’re not wrinkling your cute little nose at me anymore,” Astarion taps the tip of your nose softly, “A good sign.”

Leaning in close, you kiss his shoulder while making a dramatic show of inhaling deeply, “You stink… less.”

He giggles and gives you a gentle shove, “Less?! Darling, I’m hurt,” he imitates shock with a sulky flair, “I smell excellent.”

Hells, does he ever.

“How do you know?”

Astarion taps your chest over your heart in rhythm with the quickened pace with a sly, boyishly handsome smile, “Your body tells me everything I need to know.”

“Pleased with yourself, are you?”

“Indeed,” he coos, “Now, to bed with you, sleepy love.”

Yes, rest. Gods, I’m tired.

Astarion’s thumb sweeps lazily back and forth over your arm, and you lay your head on his chest. Your eyes feel heavy and sag closed.

Lifting your hand, you draw all the flames from the candles into an orb floating above your palm, extinguishing them. The flaming sphere winks out, bathing the room in darkness except for the glow from the ebbing embers in the fireplace.

Astarion kisses your forehead, “Braggart.”

You giggle, but your voice sounds distant to your ears as the current of your trance pulls you under. Astarion starts to hum while running his fingers through your hair.

“I love you,” you say in a whispering sigh.

Wait… did I say that out loud?

Astarion’s crooning hum cuts off, and his fingers come to your chin, guiding your face up.

The silky skin of his lips caresses yours tenderly, “I love you too. Rest, my only one.”

Gale rubs his eyes, “Where was Mr. Blackwell?”

“Aldous said he was away on business,” your leg bounces nervously, “He didn’t elaborate further.”

Astarion’s hand slips over your thigh under the table, stilling the ferocity of its jostling.

“We have some time then,” Gale concludes, “I have business in the city today. I could make some inquiries.”

“Bloody Hells, you are terrible at this,” Astarion groans, clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes, “Gale, if you go making odd inquiries, you’ll implicate yourself.”

Gale scoffs, “Oh, my deepest apologies if I am not proficient in the matters of covering up a murder.”

“Apology accepted,” Astarion drawls, “We could always kill Mr. Blackwell. What’s one more murder?”

“Mr. Blackwell has a wife,” Gale scowls, “Aldous’s mother.”

“You say that as if it’s a problem, Gale,” Astarion shrugs, “The wife as well then.”

Gale’s skin goes a deathly white as his mouth drops open, eyes round, “You cannot seriously be suggesting we murder an entire family!”

You cut them both off, “Astarion is trying to get under your skin, Gale. Don’t let him.”

“You’re no fun,” Astarion’s lips purse into a pout, “I had the wizard going.”

Gale’s body unknots with relief, “Very funny, my sharp-toothed friend.”

You rub your temples to stifle the headache brewing, “How well connected is Mr. Blackwell, Gale?”

Gale’s fingers tap his chin, “Connected would be an understatement. The man is friends with every high-ranking official in the city.”

Certainly a complication.

Astarion’s fingers drum on the table, “Could we not convince him that his son ran off with some trollop?”

“I could try,” you nod, “but Mr. Blackwell is already suspicious of me. He will not make an easy target.”

“You do have a very delicious silver tongue,” Astarion’s hand slips up your thigh and between your legs, “I have no doubt you could persuade him.”

You sit stiffly, trying not to expose the crudeness happening below the wood tabletop as Astarion’s fingers sweep over your crotch.

“I could try,” you choke out as you clench involuntarily at the sensation, “but it’s not foolproof.”

Astarion scoffs, “If you want foolproof, my dear, we better circle back to the murder option.”

“Do you not feel any remorse for what you’ve done!” Gale explodes out of his chair, irritation creasing his forehead.

Astarion stands with bared teeth, leaning threateningly close to Gale’s face, “I feel only pristine satisfaction. You have NO idea what he was about to do to her, Gale.”

“Stop it! Both of you,” you roar, slamming your hands on the table to get their attention, “I could have stopped Astarion, and I didn’t. If you must hold someone responsible for this, the blame is mine, Gale.”

“Enough!” Astarion’s crimson eyes send shivers down your spine, “You are not accountable for my actions!”

This is about more than just this event.

“Gale,” you sigh with a forced smile, “Go make your inquiries, but be discreet.”

Gale bows shallowly and excuses himself, glancing between you and Astarion. There is a grim tension in the air.

Astarion’s finger taps rhythmically on the table, a telltale sign he’s upset with you.

“Spit it out, Astarion. What is really troubling you because it isn’t this.”

Astarion’s forehead creases as his brows pull down low, and he shouts, “You must stop holding yourself at fault for what I’ve done!”

“Aren’t I?” you scream back at him, coming to your feet abruptly, “The night you left, I made you uncomfortable, and what happened? You fucking ran from me, from our life, from us!”

He left. Gods, he left, and it nearly killed me.

“It-” Astarion’s eyes dart around, “It wasn’t because of something you did.”

“My fault or not, I paid dearly for it.”

You ran and took my heart with you.

You rush to your room, locking the door. It’s too much. It’s all too much at once, and you cannot process it quickly enough.

It was my fault Astarion left in the first place, wasn’t it?

I pushed him too hard, didn’t I?

Gods, you don’t know. You’ve been punishing yourself for all of your missteps since he disappeared, and you can’t relinquish your guilt no matter how hard you try.

Why will I not allow myself to let this go?

Astarion’s soft knock resonates on the door, and your head plummets into your hands.

You cannot do this right now, and your voice rumbles, “Go away, Astarion.”

Astarion plunks down on the floor outside your door, “I will wait until you are ready to speak to me.”

He used to do this when you lived with him, giving you space but ultimately staying close by.

Wrenching the door open, you seethe, “Go. Away.”

Astarion rights himself and pushes into your room as if nothing is amiss. Despite your fiery temper, Astarion was never easily goaded into a fight with you.

“Astarion,” you leer at him in a warning.

“You’re angry with me,” he retorts, “I’m well aware and well acquainted with your ire.”

“Then you know you should be leaving me alone,” you admonish him.

“You never used to retreat from arguments with me.”

Fuck. He’s right. I ran.

Again.

You groan, slamming your door and drop to the floor. The headache you had felt starting is now throbbing in your temples like a battering ram. Pressing your eyes shut, you kneed at your head with your fingers.

Astarion sinks to the ground opposite you, and his hand settles on your forehead, “Darling, are you alright?”

The chill of his skin eases some of your discomfort, and you push into his touch with a relieved sigh, “Just a headache.”

“You did not get much rest last night,” his fingers massage your temples, “I’m sorry. I should not have shouted at you.”

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.”

“You do not have to talk, but you will listen, and listen closely,” Astarion tilts your head up, and you open your eyes to meet his, “You must stop blaming yourself for what I’ve done. The guilt is not yours to endure.”

“But…” you swallow the lump in your throat, wrench your eyes down and fidget with your fingers, “But I made you uncomfortable the night you left.”

“My leaving was not due to anything you did or did not do. I’m-” he sits back, running his fingers through his hair, tousling it, “I’m a coward,” he shrugs, “I’ve always been a coward.”

“You have never been a coward, Astarion,” you shake your head, “What’s changed? What will stop you from leaving again?”

“I am no longer afraid,” his fingers sweep across your cheek before rubbing your temples again, “Well, perhaps that’s not entirely true. I am afraid of losing you again.”

How did he get over his fear?

“Astarion,” you sigh as his fingers skillfully knead the throbbing ache, “you could never lose me.”

“I did,” the corners of Astarion’s mouth creep downward mournfully, “did I not, friend?”

This word haunts me.

“May I ask you something?”

You nod, “Anything.”

“Ever since I returned, you have been exceedingly gentle with me, far beyond customary, even for you. Why?”

“You mean,” your voice trembles slightly, “when it comes to being intimate with you?”

“Yes.”

Fuck, I don’t want to tell him this, but I must stop trying to escape from the truth.

“I-” you inhale a long, slow breath to calm your pounding heart, “You left me the night I made you uncomfortable. I suppose,” you pause, trying to gather yourself, “I suppose I have been worried that if I make that same mistake, I will scare you away again.”

Astarion takes your hands, “I promise you do not have to be afraid. I am here to stay. You need not be so gentle with me.”

Don’t I though?

“Can I trust you to tell me when it’s too much?”

“I will always tell you,” he says conclusively, “Could we please get off this floor now, beautiful?”

Right…

“Sorry. Where would you like to sit?”

“The bed,” he says, helping you to your feet, “Does your head still hurt?”

“Yes,” you groan.

Your brain is bashing against your skull, trying to escape your head.

“Sit. I will rub it for you like I used to.”

Sitting on the bed, Astarion pulls you between his legs, your back against his chest, and you let yourself sink into him. His fingers work the achy spots perfectly.

“What happened yesterday,” Astarion says in a low timbre, “with the boy. Are you alright?”

Am I?

“It’s not the first time I’ve been attacked.”

“Yes,” Astarion looks around anxiously, “but there is a difference between being attacked and being,” he pauses, searching for a way to put it delicately.

“I know what you’re getting at,” you sigh, “I’ve lived a hard life, Astarion. This is just another one of those things that’s better forgotten."

“I understand,” Astarion kisses the top of your head, “But if you cannot forget, I am here if you need me.”

I always need you.

“Thank you.”

“You will tell me more about your life someday, yes?” Astarion’s voice is hopeful, “I wish to know everything.”

My past - another thing I run from.

“Will you tell me more about yours?”

“For you, my love, I am an open book,” Astarion murmurs, “Ask, and I will tell you to the best of my ability, but there are things I cannot recall.”

“Like your face?”

He smiles sadly, “Yes, like my face.”

You and Gale have been practicing magic together, and you asked him to teach you Mirror Image. The incantation was straightforward to learn, but Illusionary magic is not your realm of expertise and mastering the hand movements was tricky.

Mirror Image was meant to be used on yourself, but you and Gale often try to find new ways to use or cast various spells.

After many trials and failures, you’ve figured out how to use Mirror Image to mirror someone other than the caster.

Should I?

“Do you-” you trail off, wondering if this is a good idea, “I could try something - if you want. If I can pull it off, you will be able to see yourself.”

“What?” Astarion jolts off the bed, eyes round with astonishment, “How?”

You turn to look at him, “Do you remember that night in camp when Gale was inspecting a magical copy of himself?”

His red eyes shift around, crazed, and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake and stepped too far.

“Of course,” he groans, “How could I forget his incessant preening?”

Astarion looks anxious, and unease blooms in your stomach, “Are you okay? Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Please,” he pleads, his scarlet eyes wide and wild, “If you can, would you please?”

“This may feel odd at first,” you warn, “like countless fingers running over your skin. Don’t be alarmed.”

I can do this. I will do this.

Grasping the Weave, you wrap it around you and Astarion with the finesse of an archmage. Reciting the incantation is as easy as breathing, and it rolls off your tongue poetically.

The hand movements are far more complicated, but you’ve practiced this, and your fingers dance the perfectly choreographed pattern.

Astarion’s eyes stay locked on you.

You pull the threads, and the Weave unravels, only for you to stitch it back together in the image of Astarion.

“It’s done,” you smile, “All you need to do is turn around.”

Astarion takes a deep, shuddering breath but doesn’t turn, “What should I expect?”

You cock a brow at him. You’re not entirely sure how you expected him to react, but hesitancy didn’t even cross your mind.

Is he scared he won’t like what he sees?

“You will see yourself as the world sees you,” you say, calm and encouraging, “You don’t have to, Astarion. If it’s too much, I can always recast this when you’re ready.”

“No, I want to. Gods. It’s been so long, and I just… I just do not know,” he swallows hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “Will you hold my hand? I do not think I can do this without you.”

“I’ve got you,” you interlace your fingers with his, “When you’re ready, love.”

He smiles, “That’s the first time you’ve called me that since I’ve been back.”

No… No, I couldn’t be. Is it?

“I- Uh…I-”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he giggles, “I won’t get my hopes up, friend.”

Astarion takes another slow, shaky breath and turns around slowly. The image of Astarion faces him, but its eyes are closed. For a moment, you think you didn’t cast the spell correctly, but when you look at Astarion, the figure mirrors him as it should.

Giving him this moment, you lean your head on his shoulder and wait patiently.

Astarion recoils slightly when his eyes open, and he sees the image standing there. The figures stare at each other, awestruck.

Astarion takes a step closer to the image and touches his face, running his fingers along his jaw, down the bridge of his nose, and over his cheekbones. He racks his fingers through his hair. Leaning in closer, he inspects his eyes and fangs, utterly captivated.

“Good Gods,” he pants breathlessly, “That’s me?”

“It’s you, Astarion,” you can’t help but smile, “in all your earth-shatteringly, realm-ending handsome beauty.”

“I am positively magnificent, aren’t I?” he muses agog, “Now, all your fiery jealousy makes perfect sense.”

You nearly chastise him, but when you look at him to shoot back some witty retort your mind hasn’t yet formulated, he’s staring at you with tears shining down his cheeks.

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Fuck, Astarion,” you wipe the tears spilling from his eyes with your thumb, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

He looks at the image of himself again, “I- I don’t believe I’ve ever cried happy tears before,” he chuckles low, his eyes downcast, “Not that I can remember, at least.”

Happy tears?

Before you can process his words, he sweeps you up in a cradling embrace, pulling you off your feet, “Thank you, my love.”

The spell wanes, and the figures form flickers before fading away. Astarion lowers you to the floor and looks at the empty area woefully.

“Astarion,” you guide his eyes back to you, still shiny with unshed tears, “I can recast that spell whenever you want. You only have to ask. This need not be the last time you get to see yourself.”

“Gods, don’t tell me that,” he sighs dramatically, with a striking crooked smile, “I’m likely to overindulge."

“Fine,” you giggle, “You will have to earn your overindulgence.”

“Oh,” Astarion smiles devilishly, eyeing you through thick lashes and hooded eyes, “How would you have me earn it?”

“Oh,” you tap your lips, “I’m sure I can think of something like warming Tara her milk,” you taunt.

Astarion scoffs, “The cat can wait for her milk. I was thinking more along the lines of depraved carnal lust?”

“Now?”

“Well,” Astarion smirks, “Now is as good a time as any, but I need to ask something of you.”

“What?”

Astarion sweeps your hair back and looks deeply into your eyes, “Stop being excessively gentle with me. I’m not as fragile as you presume me to be.”

Isn’t he?

“I-” you stammer with worry in your voice, “I will try.”

“Good girl.”

“Lock the door,” you tug at this shirt, “and lose this.”

“Demanding thing,” he chuckles, sliding the lock into place, “As you wish.”

Astarion pulls his shirt off and stands so close that your breasts graze his chest with the rise and fall of your breath.

Astarion’s fingers curl under the hem of your top, “May I?”

You nod, and Astarion lets his cool fingers caress the warmth of your skin as he strips you. The temperature contract makes your skin prickle, and desire flushes your complexion red.

Your nipples skim across the chilled skin of Astarion’s chest, making them harden into peaks instantly, and you shudder at the sensation.

The pad of Astarion’s thumb teases your sensitive peak, “You have no idea how perfect you are, do you?”

His teasing causes a breathy whimper to escape your lips, and heat pools as your nerves are set alight. Astarion takes your lips in his. The kiss quickly becomes primal, urgent, and all-consuming.

He nips your lower lip gently, forcing your lips to part, and his tongue traverses your mouth. Bolts of electricity ripple down your spine, awakening the achy need in your centre.

Astarion grabs your hips and rolls them against his throbbing erection with an urging grunt. The swell between your thighs sings with the decadent banquet of friction, and you moan low, ghosting your lips over his ear as you melt into him.

“You have no idea how much I miss being inside you,” Astarion growls with a voice soaked in burning want.

Gods. I miss it too.

The walls of your core clench uncontrollably as depraved thoughts and memories of him stretching you, claiming you, swim through your head.

Astarion shoves you hard, and you fall onto the bed with a giggle. Pushing your legs apart, he crawls up, kissing your stomach before swirling his tongue around your nipple, making your back arch and body twitch.

Gods. He could undo me with that alone.

Your splayed fingers slip us his chest, sweeping across his nipple, eliciting a pleasant rumbling groan deep in his chest. His lips meet yours urgently, and he bucks his hips into you, pushing the throbbing bulge in his trousers against your swell.

His presence is intoxicating, and you can’t control your body. Hells, you don’t want to control your body, and you writhe against him greedily, needy for relief.

Astarion’s hand slides up your thigh and his fingers ghost over the pulsating flesh, “How wet are you?”

Embarrassingly so. Nigh on soaked.

You groan as the flush of embarrassment courses through you and cover your face with your arms.

Astarion gently moves one of your arms away from your face, “Do not hide from me. You never have to hide from me.”

He rocks his hips against you, and you convulse and tremble against him with whimpering, sputtered murmurs.

“You’re soaked, aren’t you?” he teases, “May I, friend?”

“Gods, yes.”

Astarion slips his fingers into your waistband in an agonizingly slow descent that makes you wonder if you might combust before his fingers find their target.

He parts your folds while expertly avoiding that pulsing bundle of nerves that is craving his stroke.

“Hells, you are positively soaked,” he drawls, “You’re making quite a mess. We should get these off, yes?”

Astarion hooks his fingers into your waistband. You lift your hips in silent consent, and he slips your pants off you.

You squeeze your thighs together, feeling far too vulnerable under those piercing hooded crimson eyes studying you.

“I wish to look upon you, friend,” Astarion glides his hand between your thighs, “Will you let me?”

He uses gradual force to encourage your legs to part, and you allow your legs to spread for him.

Those cardinal red eyes devour the sight of you, full of unwavering adoration, “You’re beautiful.”

His fingers roam down your thigh to your folds, slick with desire. Breathy, sputtering moans escape your lips as your hips lurch at his touch.

His fingers trace the swollen border of your achy clit, “Do all your friends make you drip with need?

“Astarion,” you gasp.

“Yes, love?”

“Please,” you beg, “For the love of all the Gods. Please.”

“How many fingers?” he growls.

What?

Your mind can’t focus enough to string together what he’s asking. You squirm, trying to motivate his fingers to move faster, but he stills and waits for you to stop your writhing.

“When was the last time you were filled?” Astarion says firmly as he eases the contact of his fingers to nothing more than a light tease.

Do I admit this?

“You.”

Astarion’s brows pop up, eyes round with surprise, “Me? You haven’t been with anyone since I left?”

You stare at him, confused by his shock, “You are all I want, Astarion.”

Wait, does his shock mean he’s been with others since he left?

Don’t be so blind and naive. Of course, he has.

He has...

Under the overwhelming realization, your heart warps and bursts, violently rocketing the razor-edged shards you’ve been cutting yourself with, trying to glue them together. You clutch your chest as they tear you asunder anew.

The world feels like it’s crumbling down around you and drowning you in it.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying?

Astarion’s hand cradles your cheek, and you leap off the bed to your hands and knees on the floor, recoiling from his touch.

How many others has he touched with that hand?

Stop.

But Hells, how many since you?

No. Stop.

Astarion is coming toward you, distress twisting his brows and shining vividly in those beautiful crimson eyes.

How many people have looked into those eyes since you while he drove them to their release?

Stop. Stop. Stop.

Fuck. How many?!

His mouth is moving, but Gods you hear nothing over the stampede of your heartbeat thrumming in your ears.

Run. Run. Run. Run and never stop , your mind wails.

You can’t breathe. Hells, you’re suffocating in this room as it caves in around you.

You can’t take anymore. You must escape. Picking yourself up off the floor, you throw on your clothes in a panicked scurry.

Astarion’s cool hand grazes the skin of your arm, and you shrink away, gritting your teeth.

How many? Fuck. How many?!

Astarion backs away from you, alarmed.

Run. Run. Run.

You’ve barely finished dressing before you find yourself sprinting through the manor.

You need to get away from this place, get away from him, get away from yourself.

Swinging the door open, the sunlight floods in. Someone cries out, but you barely register Astarion’s pained yelp. You launch out the door, slamming into a startled Gale, eyes wide with confusion.

Gale tries to halt you, but you push him away with a hard shove that nearly sends him toppling over.

You don’t stop. You can’t stop.

You run.

Thank you to all those who read/like/comment/follow/reblog/etc. I hope you're enjoying reading this! Let me know what you think :)

Chapters Master List - Shadows of the Past

AO3: Crossposted

If you're interested, I also write fanfic for Ascended Astarion x Spawn Tav - Fangs and Fractured Hearts

Small Notes: - Well, the noble is dead (yay), but how will they deal with the consequences? - Poor Tav :(

#astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion x reader #astarion smut #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion x mc #astarion romance #baldurs gate astarion #shadows of the past #astarion x oc #astarion fanfic #astarion fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion angst #astarion spawn #spawn astarion

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loupy-mongoose · 11 months

Text

Warning: This part contains discussion of Pokemon abuse and neglect, as well as the general topic of death.

Edit: I didn't realize when I posted that this part is kinda long, so I'mma slap a Read More on it.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

Lavender stared in shock at the man who'd approached her.

It was him.

The man she'd seen in the articles online.

The man she'd seen in Nico's dream vision.

Fuji...

The man tilted his head a bit. Ah, so you've heard of me. I'm guessing you've read about the orphanage online?

I, uh...

Lav had no idea how she would begin speaking to him, let alone broach the subject that drove her to this moment.

I... I...

She hugged herself, shivering. Her mind and emotions were spent.

Fuji's concerned look grew deeper. Easy, there. Easy. What's troubling you? Maybe we can work it out.

She could feel his genuine concern for her wash off of him, and her own loneliness and regret crashed over her. She asked him in a timid, shaky voice, can I have a hug?

His eyebrow rose, but he smiled warmly at her. Of course! If it'll help!

She charged into his arms almost before he could open them wide enough. Oh how she missed this feeling of being safe in a pair of arms...

So what's got you so upset? Or is it something too personal to tell a stranger like myself?

Uh...

His voice lowered to just above a whisper. Your family isn't mistreating you, are they? I can help get you out if they are.

At that Lav pushed away from him, waving her arms. No no no no, nothing like that! I-I'm sad because I left them... And I wish I hadn't... I came here looking for someone, but... She wiped her eyes for the hundredth time since she'd taken off. It was a rash decision and I wish I could go back...

I can help with that too. Fuji smiled again. Where do they live? I'll do what I can to get you back to them!

Lav gripped at her elbows, biting her lower lip. Should I tell him? How much would it give away...?

How much will I need to give away...?

She took a quiet breath and answered. Paldea.

Paldea... He became thoughtful. That's a long ways away from here... You came here on your own?

Lav nodded, rocking slightly back and forth. All the warnings she'd heard from her parents flashed through her mind, almost making her feel sick again.

Finally she gripped her jacket sleeves and took a deep breath. Listen, Mr. Fuji, there's something I wanted to talk to you about. But... not in the open.

The gentle man lowered his brows questioningly.

I-I know that sounds weird... But... C-can we go to your house? And talk in private?

Fuji's face creased in confusion, but he shrugged. Alright. I'm all ears. Maybe I can offer you a drink to calm your nerves? Coffee, tea, hot coco?

Lav smiled widely at the sound of that. Ooo, yes please! Hot chocolate! Please!

Fuji chuckled as he turned to go and motioned for her to follow. A sweet tooth, huh? No problem!

Hey, I never got your name.

She gave a shy laugh, well recognizing how this might sound to him. It's, uh... Lavender, actually. Lavender Linden.

Hah!! Oh dear, it might be a little hard for my old brain to remember that one. His voice oozed with joyful sarcasm, and Lav felt herself warming up to him.

You can call me Lav if it's too much for you~

Lav. That sounds lovely. He chuckled softly. It's nice to meet you, Lav.

Lav smiled, finally feeling a sense of comfort for the first time since leaving home.

It's nice to meet you too, Mr. Fuji.

The pink Mew carefully peered down into the cliffs surrounding the purple-hued town. It was too far away to make out distinct people. But where his eyes failed him, his senses gave him hope.

I feel her.

He looked at Akoya. They're eyes passed the message without use of words or mind. They flew down to discuss with Persim what the next step would be.

Oooooh, look at themmm!!

Lav looked into a pen containing several little land-dwelling Pokemon. Ratattas, Growlithes, Nidorans, and Mankeys, and others mingled together. Some were missing eyes and limbs.

So you take in orphaned Pokemon and take care of them?

Fuji smiled softly, but with a sad gleam in his eyes. Orphans, injured, sick... Trainers will often bring in Pokemon, either their own or ones that they've found in their travels. It's sad when they're mistreated, but I like to think we offer a little bit of hope and comfort for those in need.

Lav watched a few Ratattas running together, including a dark colored one that had a set of wheels attached to its back legs. She pointed to it. What happened to the Alolan one there?

A Karate Chop went too far. HP shields will only protect so much. Fuji sighed. Her trainer pushed her to fight beyond her limits--against a Machop, no less--and she paid the price. And of course her trainer left her for dead because she couldn't fight anymore.

A lot of the Pokemon in our care have similar stories. I swear, trainers who don't bother learning type matchups drive me up a wall! Just because they're protected from elemental attacks doesn't mean the protection lasts or is perfect every time! And when the shields fail, it can fail spectacularly.

Lav thought about her dad's journey as a trainer through Sinnoh, as well as her own dream of doing her own journey. She had to venture a question. D... Do you feel that way about all trainers?

Absolutely not. There are plenty of good trainers out there, and I adore them. I want to support those ones however I can! And of course trainers will make mistakes. Sometimes mistakes that will cost a life, unfortunately... As long as there are Pokemon trainers, that will continue to happen. But that alone doesn't make one a bad trainer.

And the sad thing is, it's those trainers who suffer most from their mistakes. The ones who throw away the dead or injured, they move on to the next victim with nary a backward glance. But when a loving trainer loses...

He sighed again, leaning on the fence. It's heartbreaking, really. All the trainers who feel like they failed because of their losses, when in reality those are the best of the best. They don't realize that in taking a path of love, they've taken the hard path. Grief is the price we pay for love, after all, and sometimes in can bankrupt trainers...

Suddenly he leaned back. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to get sad on you! I see both ends of it, so I have trouble keeping them apart sometimes. I hope you can forgive my morbid rambling...

Of course. Lav smiled morosely. ...I can tell you pay that price a lot...

Fuji met her eyes with warmth. Yeah... Yeah. It's not always an easy job... But it is my greatest love. And grief is a price I'm willing to pay for it.

PREVIOUS NEXT

ARC START | CHRONO

This makes me want to do a Nuzlocke. XD

#Linden Roots #writing #Art #comic #BLH #By Lavender's Hand #Full

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runawaydr3amerao3 · 6 months

Text

The Sims 4 Mods/Custom Content I Use

See my Simsnatural posts here! (Warning: May contain actual or references to Wincest, CGI and animated nudity and sex, kinky shit, and other absolute nonsense.)

I've decided to make a masterpost of the mods and custom content I use to play TS4, so that I can just link back here instead of listing them every time on every post I make of my Winchester Sims. I'll list all of my mods, but I'll only list CC if it's visible in a screenshot I share or mentioned in a post. Otherwise things would get unmanageable.

For reference, I play The Sims 4 with all expansions and stuff packs. EA can bite the big one.

Mods:

Better Exceptions

Bouncing Sim Boobies

Child Birth Mod

Ding & Ditch Smart Doorbell

Education Overhaul

FlirtyFetishes: BDSiM

GeneralPieMenu

MC Command Center

Mood Pack

More Columns in CAS

Pose Player

Selectable Pets Always

SharedTuning

Smarter Pie Menu: Searchable Interactions

Teleport Any Sim

Unlock/Lock Doors for chosen sims

Wicked Whims

Wicked Whims Inappropriate Unlock

XML Injector

Custom Content:

Appearance:

Dimples by PralineSims

Eye colours by PralineSims

Eyebrows by PralineSims

Penis Meshes by Supern4tural

Pierced Penis by Khlas

Clothing:

Boxer-briefs with side mesh by Joliebean

Lace boyshorts by Joliebean & Imvikai

Layered autumn plaid by SimmieV

Pentacle sweater by SimmieV

Sarcasm Inc t-shirt by PralineSims

Gameplay:

Pregnancy Pose Pack by Katverse

Wicked Whims sex animations (shown in posts so far: Anarcis, Artista De Bastardo, FausTTerM, Khlas, MOTHERLODESIMS)

Objects:

BDSM Easel by YrSa

Beer bottles by Around the Sims 4

Glass of vodka by Around the Sims 4

Glock handgun – original by XanKriegor, TS4 edit by SG5150, found here

Naughty TV by Reitanna

Sex toys by 0zzzy: ball gag

Sex toys by asketo: anal beads, dildo with handle, hanging chain, tentacle dildo

Sex toys by chisami: Lovehoney g-spot dildo and wall dildo

Sex toys by Julie J: collar and leash

Sex toys by Khlas: fleshlight

Sex toys by Kodenu: hanging belt and bull whip

Sex toys by Noir and Dark / scaled by wild_guy: chrome dildo, metallic plug, realistic dildo, wand massager

Sex toys by Supern4tural: horse dildo

Whiskey bottle by leosims

Wine cellar by Kaydazzle420 (in-game gallery)

Supernatural-themed Custom Content:

1967 Chevrolet Impala – original by Fresh-Prince Creations, TS4 edit by SG5150, found here

Anti-Possession Tattoo by plumbobfae

Dean's Amulet by BAkalia

Devil's Trap Rugs by WWOM_KittyKatt

Mark of Cain by Nys!k

Men of Letters Bunker by xogerardine

Winchester Bros t-shirt by simmi98x

Sincere apologies if I forget to list anything at any stage. I'm always open to being reminded. And if any links break, do let me know.

Also, please note that I cannot guarantee the security of each link indefinitely. Use your own discretion as well as protective software the way you would/should at any other time.

#simsnatural #spn sims 4

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just-antithings · 2 years

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very progressive!

#mod erin #just anti things #this post contains sarcasm #image #caps warning

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no-nameno-face · 1 year

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Auburn Thoughts (Pt.1)

Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams

Summary: You are an art student working on a rather boring assignment. The girl across from you makes it a bit more bearable.

Warnings: ummm painting and flirting ig? Some sarcasm? Not sure what qualifies as warning material in a chapter like this. lol.

Author's Notes: I'm literally a college drop out so idk if this is even close to a real college experience so bear with me. I'm really excited to be writing a slow burn, I love reading them so I'm having a lot of fun making one of my own. This chapter is mostly fluff, but with that being said I definitely plan on this leading to some heavy smut so fair warning. I’m still new to writing, like I said in my last post that was my first time writing, so be patient with me please. I'm already almost done with part two, the story definitely picks up a bit. trying to contain myself to keep it a nice slow build, but writing Ellie makes that so hardddd. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! <3

Part 2

I balance, perched on my wooden stool. Knee to my chest and a paint brush resting in the corner of my mouth. I squint at the bowl of fruit on the pedestal in the middle of the empty classroom.

How the fuck am I supposed to feel inspired by a god damn banana? My eyes shift to the canvas in front of me. A base of powder blue covers the surface with a rough outline of my perspective of the assigned model. So boring. My forehead drops onto my knee. “Im fucked.” I breathe. I rest there for a minute, trying to get past the mental block of painting something I have absolutely no interest in. I didn't anticipate this side of art school. I was picturing passion projects and creative people with minds for the picking. Not fucking bananas.

I look up at the ceiling and take a deep breath. I’m not gonna get anything else done today. I can tell. I’ll work on it tomorrow in class, see if I can figure anything out. I begin gathering my brushes head to the sink on the side of the classroom. Turning on the faucet I begin gently squeezing the paint out of my brushes, and drying them one by one. The colored water coming off of them was more exciting than anything I've created today.

I hear the classroom door swing open. It startles me and I jump a bit, turning automatically to find the noise. Green eyes meet mine.

“Shit, sorry.” she says as she looks away and paces to the canvas storage on the other side of the classroom, pulling off her hood as she walks revealing short auburn hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. It’s a nice color, I thought as I turned back to my brushes. I finished washing them as I thought about what colors I would have to mix to match it. My color theory class is getting to me, I shake my head softly.

As I dry my last brush I realize how quiet it is. Just the sound of my bristles on the cloth, and that girl from my class setting her canvas on her assigned easel across from mine, on the opposite side of the cursed fruit.

I turn and walk back to my easel and put my brushes in their case, then load it into my bag resting on the floor next to my seat. I stand up and address my canvas hopelessly one more time, letting out a small huff before I pick it up and haul it to the canvas storage. I load it into my assigned slot then head back to grab my bag, glancing first at the fruit, then at the girl. She sat comfortably eyeing her canvas, I wondered if she was having as hard of a time with this assignment or if it was just me. I reach my stuff and lean down to grab it.

“God, this blows,” she sighs. I look up at her. It's like she read my mind.

“What, you're not, like, crazy intrigued by the,” I wave towards the model “fruit.” I give a sarcastic smile. She looks up at me and returns the grin. She's got a pretty smile.

“Can't say I am,” she says looking back at her canvas. I smile swinging on my bag.

“Well that makes two of us.” I say turning to leave the classroom. Walking back to my dorm my mind drifts back to the colors I would need to make that auburn.

My following few nights were spent, paint brush in hand, and her across the room. Working hard on our assignments, with the occasional aggrieved comment discussing the problem at hand. I found my gaze lingering a bit longer on her than I would like to admit over these days. Smiling a bit too hard at her jokes. Laughing quietly to myself when I’d hear her drop a brush and curse under her breath.

I started actually looking forward to painting the stupid bowl of fruit. There was something so nice about being in our own worlds, occasionally colliding, then bouncing back to our own little universes on our canvases. She makes me feel safe. Motivated. It was refreshing.

I wondered if her mind would drift to me late at night like mine drifted to her. Definitely not. So fucking stupid, I would tell myself holding my pillow over my face.

______________________________________________________________

The next day I sat in class listening to the professor go on about the power of perspective, and how angles can truly change the emotion of a piece. My eyes drift as she's talking and I catch a glimpse of green before it darts away. Wandering eyes. Happens to us all. I think nothing of it.

I endure the lecture and we enter the freepainting portion of the class. Finally okay with the outline of my painting, I go to the paint station to collect the colors I need to start laying the foundation of the subject. I’m rummaging through the bottom drawer of the color supply when I hear someone approaching.

“So how's the emotion of your piece coming?” came her sarcastic voice. I smile at my scavenging hands.

“Oh, it's life changing.” I say with a small nod, not looking up. She chuckles lightly, then leans against the cabinets next to me, crossing her arms over her chest, looking over the classroom. I stand, feeling satisfied by my color choices and meet her eyes, giving her a small smile, before walking back to my easel. I put my headphones in and shuffle my music. Diving into the project, desperately riding the momentum of the lecture before I lost the little motivation I had.

The class time ended, but I planned on getting another hour or so of painting in to make up for my lack of progress during open room yesterday. Students were drifting out of the classroom leaving it quieter, which I much preferred. Finally finished with the base colors of the painting I began the shading, shuffling through my brushes in my case finding the one I needed. When I found it I pulled my knee up to my chest and leaned around my canvas to look at the subject.

I noticed she was still here, sitting across from me. Just legs beneath her work. Jeans, well worn converse, one tapping the floor. Then she's leaning around to look at the model, I dart back behind my canvas before she can catch me looking. I think I was fast enough? Why do I care, it's not a big deal? My brows furrow, confused by my own actions. Why am I being so weird?

I shade away at the apple on the left side of the bowl, frustrated with the highlights. I tilt my head up and feel the tension in my neck. I grab at it and roll my head. My eyes absently scan the classroom. Empty. All but that one seat.

I checked my phone for the time, shit it's been over 2 hours since class got out. I look at my canvas, mentally making a plan for tomorrow's work. Then I gather my brushes and head to the sink. A repeat of the day before, and days before that. Watching the colors strain down the sink, drying my brushes. This time she approaches with her own brushes, turning on the faucet next to me and begins working the paint out of them.

“I didn't realize what time it was, I'm glad you got up when you did. I would have been here for hours” she says looking at the brush in her hands.

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” I respond, looking over at her then back to my brushes. I see her smile in my peripheral. That pretty smile. We wash in silence for a bit before,

“My name’s Ellie. I just realized I never introduced myself” she says, glimpsing at you.

“How rude of you, Ellie.” I say smirking at her. She squints her eyes at me with a crooked smile. “I’m _____.” I say picking up my drying rag.

“Hey, for the record you never introduced yourself either.”

“Didn't know you wanted me to.”

“Touche.”

I turn and walk back to my bag, following my daily routine. Putting my brushes in their case, loading it in my bag. Hauling my canvas to the storage then heading to the door.

“Hey,” Ellie calls to me. I turn and see her putting her canvas away. “You seemed like you really knew what you were doing, picking your colors out earlier.” I grab at the straps of my backpack as she walks up to me “I was just wondering, could you give me some tips? I'm more of a graphite, charcoal girl myself. Color is not really my thing.” she said looking down at her shoes then back to me.

“I guess,” I say with a smile heading out the door. She follows me, catching up to walk by my side.

“Now?” She looks at me while we walk.

“I'm a bit painted out at the moment,”

“Oh, yeah. No for sure,” she responds, directing her attention to the floor. She almost sounds flustered? No, I'm definitely reading into it. A small smile paints my lips at the possibility.

“How about we meet up during open room tomorrow? I'll give you some pointers.” She looks up to me with a bit of surprise in her eyes, I look ahead of myself. “I mean I'm no Warhol, but I'm happy to help.”

“Fuck yeah, that sounds perfect! What time do you wanna meet?” she asks eagerly. A light in her eyes.

“4:00?”

“My last class gets out at 4:30, can you do 5:00?”

“Oh you're making demands now?” I say with a sarcastic grimace at her, brows furrowed. She bites at her smile. It's an image I'd like to immortalize in my sketchbook. What? I look at the ground, thrown off by my own thoughts. “Yeah, let's meet at 5:00.” I say just looking up enough to catch her eyes already peering at me, she glances away from me quickly. Pushing through the doors of the building we are hit with the cold air. She pulls her hood up over her ponytail.

“See you then.” she nods at me and heads down the stairs and to the left towards her dorm I presume. I grin at myself, my cheeks feeling a bit warmer than they should in the breeze.

Back at my dorm I find myself doodling the image of her bitten lips. Auburn thoughts.

#ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie smut #ellie x reader #ellie williams tlou #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie tlou #ellie fic #ellie fanfiction

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lilydoesdrawsometimes · 11 months

Text

Paratober 2023

So I am unhinged. Very, very unhinged.

And I decided that for Inktober/Paratober I'd draw Thierry for every single one of them (or involve Thierry in some way) Because, as I said, I am violently unhinged. Of course, I did that! It took me a bit because I had a THREE PART EXAM and was a week behind with stuff, but TODAY I caught up with everything! Isn't that WONDERFUL! The days are going to be VERY out of order since some of them contain blood and I can't really "spoiler" them so some will be under a cut. I'm using three different Paratober prompt things for my own sanity. The first two are the "Main" Paratober ones, both canon and non canon, by @/themochimadeoftaro and then there's "The Stanley Drawable 2023" Prompt list made by @/a-game-of-beginnings.

All that being said, here it is!:

Note: This one is actually Mantra and Thierry's fusion! Designed by myself [insert proud grin here] Under the cut here is going to be Gore, blood, Spoilers for Chapter Ten of The Narrative Parable (Link: READ IT )and the wORsT oF aLl (HEAVY SARCASM) A shirtless man! Good god how could I...

Anyways, be wary if you proceed please :) You have been warned. Other Note that's kind of at the end but also not because wehoa;fdlsi A huge thank you to @vellichorom for being supportive of my cursed antics and violent obsession with Thierry <3 I really love your guy so much lore and all. Not only has he given me the motivation to actually draw regularly where usually I would just give up, but so have you. The rest will be posted individually each day (or every other day if I end up having to miss one) Had to PUT SPACE here because TUMBLR IS STUPID and decided to add the KEEP READING AT THE GODDAMN TOP like a STUPID IDIOT if you read it a certain way

haha get it? Fresh off the pr- [Gets blown up]

He's gonna get sunburnt I stg

#tsp #the stanley parable #stanley parable ultra deluxe #tsp narrator #narrator tsp #tsp fanart #art #fanart #LilyDoesDrawArt #tspud #[faint gurgling noises as I die]#My art is literally visibly improving as i do these what is this #This is the farthest ive gotten in inktober too #paratober2023

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yyako · 11 months

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There Are No Credits in Sun Haven: 1.3 Edition

Sun Haven's 1.3 patch, adding lots of new art, vfx, new characters and additional writing drops today. What it will not contain is a list of the artists who created that art, crafted those vfx, designed those characters, and wrote the new writing that went into the patch, nor will it contain the names of anyone who previously contributed to the game. All "credits" seen in the game go to Kickstarter backers only. This has been a known issue in the game for as long as it's been in development-- my partner worked on the game and he's had a chance to talk with other ex-Sun Haven devs about these problems.

I really wanted to be nice and try not to hurt the people still working on the game. At this point, though, I think it will hurt more people to be silent. Pixel Sprout is hiring basically every position and I'd feel bad if I didn't warn people away from this scumbag company.

A couple of things: in the game industry there's not a single game that's made without any pain, stress, or mis-development. It's a creative field and a job; those things are inevitable. I wouldn't be out here saying that Pixel Sprout is a bad company if the development was rocky but they paid their workers fairly and gave them credits. But the fact of the matter is that they don't pay their workers fairly, and they don't give credit.

So I've already gone over the credit thing. Let's talk about pay! The director, Bruce, doesn't want his employees to talk about pay, which is always a good sign [sarcasm]. I only know 2 salaries, but they're both illustrative. My partner was one of the best-paid members on the team, being paid $15/hr for a highly specialized skill. This was significantly lower than his usual rate, and he didn't get a raise until two years of work had passed. Though my partner was expected to function as an almost full time, exclusive employee, he was on the books as a contract worker-- meaning he had to do his own taxes and received no medical insurance.

The other salary I know was for one of the lead writers, who quit explosively and alleged that he was earning $7/hr for his specialized work. Though I don't have any more precise numbers, I know that Bruce hires aggressively in countries with weak economies so that he can pay those workers below the American minimum wage-- and those positions are specialized work like pixel art.

Now, about those credits... I think people understand why they're important, but let me make it clear: even if you as a layperson don't usually look at credits, they're extremely important to the people credited because credits are how you get work. The games industry is very insular: everyone knows someone who worked on some game, so it's hard to break into. It's easier to break into if you can point at a game you've worked on and others can go and check to see that you're not lying. Not including credits in your game robs people of the ability to get jobs. It's gravely serious.

I'm going to end this post by once again saying that I'm not calling for a boycott, and you can decide for yourself if you want to play the game, knowing that playing it isn't going to affect whether or not credits get added. But please, do NOT submit an application to work for them until you know you'll be compensated for your work through credits. And keep pestering the developers about it. It's not going to make the credits happen (see: how hard they've been failing to produce a Switch release), but if we can annoy the director, my petty heart will be warmed.

#sun haven #sun haven critical

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wiypt-writes · 1 year

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Brothers In Arms

Part 9: I Believe In You

Summary: You and Ransom take time to heal, both yourselves and each other, and look forward to a future without having to glance back over your shoulders…

Warnings: Bad language, violence, smut (NSFW) 18+ guns and stuff…

Pairing: MOB Ransom Drysdale x Reader.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any of the characters contained within this series bar the Reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. I do not give permission for this to be translated and/or reposted on any other platforms. Reblogs are fine: Sharing is caring.

By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

So this is it, the tenth and final part. There will be an epilogue eventually but for now it’s goodbye to Ran and his Princess. Thank you to all who have read and reblogged along the way. And to my darling beta @spectre-posts 💙❤️

Brothers in Arms Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Part 9

W/C: 6.5k ish…

With Ari’s blessing, you stayed in Boston for a few days.

Okay, maybe blessing would be pushing it a little too far. It was more like a begrudging acceptance, punctuated with sarcasm about how you favoured that asshole to your own brother.

You knew he was mostly joking, however. That said, when you got news that Ari was being discharged, you flew back to New York, to be there for your brother.

Three days after that, Ransom was given the okay to return to Queens, under strict instructions to take it easy.

When the two of you had talked, you’d made it clear that your reconciliation was taking place at your speed. You hadn’t been quite ready to jump all the way back in just straight away. Instead, you wanted to take it slow, build what you had back up from the very foundations which had been shook.

So far you had spent most of your days with Ransom at the mansion whilst he was still recovering. Be it watching TV or taking short walks around the grounds. You cooked or ordered in, snuggled up together but each night you’d drawn the line in the sand and headed back to Ari’s, your intimacy not passing the kissing stage.

Ransom hadn’t argued, he hadn’t pushed. He’d simply agreed to give you the time you needed, his only request being that if you still weren’t ready to move back in by the time the baby arrived, you at least agreed to stay in the house and he would go back to his penthouse, to allow you and your future son or daughter somewhere comfortable to begin your life together.

You’d agreed, although you knew deep-down it wouldn’t come to that. You wanted to move on. You forgave Ransom, you had to if you wanted to make things work. You just needed the time to navigate this new start, but you were confident you could.

You smiled at Ransom, as he stood in the open doorway as you pulled up the drive.

“You should be resting.” You looked at him. He was dressed casually, in a pair of dark blue denims and a cream cable knit cashmere sweater.

“I’m fine.” He rolled his eyes as you stopped in front of him. You stood on your toes to peck him on the lips. He then moved back to let you walk into the hallway.

You smiled a little at the Christmas decorations that had been installed over the weekend. Usually you liked to decorate yourself, but with everything that had been going on, and the fact you were now two weeks into December, you’d agreed to let Ransom pay for someone to come and do it.

“Have you drunk enough water?” He asked and you couldn’t help the chuckle. Today was your first ultrasound, the first time you’d get to see your baby and hear its heartbeat. And of course, Ransom had been reading up all about the process.

“I…yeah, I guess. I mean I’m peeing every fifteen minutes or so. In fact, I need to go now.”

Ransom snorted as you headed off and made his way to the kitchen to wait for you. Soon you joined him, and he slid a small water bottle to you from the fridge, along with some carrot sticks which seemed to be a snack you couldn’t get enough of at the moment.

“Carter or Blanc can drive us today.” He offered, “I would myself but…”

“You’re not allowed yet.” You chuckled, swallowing your snack. “I can drive, it’s no issue. I drove here.”

Ransom popped a shoulder. “I’d prefer it if you let them, please.”

You looked at him and then smiled softly, deciding to let him have his way. “Okay.”

“And I thought if you wanted after, we could go for lunch.”

“Sounds great.” You nodded.

After a quick cup of coffee, decaf for you, you headed out to the car and we’re soon pulling up outside the private clinic.

Ransom stepped out first, and you didn’t miss the little wince he gave. You sighed and then leaned between the seats to speak quickly to Carter.

“Thank you, I know you know what’s going on.”

“Don’t know what you mean, Miss.” he shot back, flashing you a wink.

With a smile, you moved to step out of the car and took Ransom’s hand.

“Do we find out what it is today?” Ransom asked as you walked into reception, and you laughed.

“No, I’m only…well, about 8 weeks or so. We won’t see that for a good few months. That is if we decide to.”

“Oh.” He then blinked. “You don’t wanna find out?”

“I dunno.” You shrugged, “maybe, maybe not. I like the idea of it being a total surprise.”

Ransom smiled and pulled your hand up to kiss your wrist, “whatever you want, baby.”

Soon enough, you were called in after waiting in a small, comfortable room and you led on the bed, the cold jelly spreading over your stomach as the doctor moved the wand. Your ears then filled with the rhythmic thumping and your eyes caught the first glance of your baby on the little screen.

You smiled and glanced at Ransom, his eyes were fixed on the image, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

The Doctor smiled, then showed you where your baby’s head was, their heartbeat.

“And from the size then, yes, I’d estimate you’re between seven and eight weeks. So that gives us a due date of…the 29th of July.”

You swallowed and dropped your head. You’d secretly been hoping for s miracle, that you wouldn’t actually be that far along. But you knew deep down that had been stupid. Because no matter how much you did the maths, no matter what apps you keyed the dates of your cycle into, it still came back to the same thing. That your baby was likely conceived at any point really from 28th October to 12th November. It could belong to either of the twins.

“Can…can I get a copy, can we get a copy?” Ransom asked, his eyes still on the screen as he raised your hand to his lips.

“Absolutely.” The Doctor smiled. “I’ll grab you one now and we’ll get you booked in for your next ultrasound and I’ll get you some information leaflets on our Lamaze classes.” She smiled as Ransom leaned over to kiss your head. You spluttered as you wiped your eyes. “Is there anything you wanna ask me?”

Ransom launched into a myriad of questions about what you could and couldn’t do, what you had to stop eating, drinking and you couldn’t help but some out, instead focusing on his face.

You took a deep breath, and as you watched Ransom intently listening to the doctor, your heart swelled. Your momentary wobble flew from your mind as you were reminded that it didn’t matter. He was all in, you could see that. As far as Ransom was concerned, this baby was his. And when you logically thought about the odds, it probably was.

You’d agreed when you’d decided to make things work, not to dwell on any of this. And now it was time for you to live up to the bargain. Your baby was a Drysdale, not a Rogers.

You heard the Doctor tell you she’d be back soon, and you smiled as she wiped the gel from your stomach and left.

Ransom turned to you, your hand still held in his. “You okay, Princess?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded, “that was just…”

“Yeah…did you see him?”

“Oh, it’s a him?”

“Yup.” Ransom nodded, smirking. “My son and heir.”

“You know, it might be a girl. Girls are just as capable of being bad asses.” He playfully wrinkled his nose, and you slapped his arm. “Oh, wait till I tell Natasha your opinions on-”

“Err, there’s no need for that.” He cut you off, chuckling. The room fell silent, and he took a deep breath, his hand round yours as he looked at the floor. “Listen, Y/N. I know…I know we said we’d take things at your pace, and I’m, well, maybe happy to do that is the wrong phrase, but I understand. I know it’s what you want, and it’s the least I can do after…after everything I did, because I don’t deserve you.”

“Ran, please…we agreed not to dwell-“

“No, I know…lemme finish, please baby.” His blue eyes bore into yours, imploring you to let him have his day and you closed your mouth. You watched him, as the hand that wasn’t wrapped around yours moved into his pocket. When he brought it back out, you blinked as you recognised the small ring box he held in his palm. “I’d like you to have this back. It’s yours. And…maybe when you’re ready, you can put it back on. Whenever that may be…if you…if you ever are.”

You licked your lips and swallowed the lump in your throat, but it stuck in your chest. You inhaled through your nose and sighed out of your mouth. You bit the inside of your cheek. The look in his eyes appeared defeated. It didn't sway the way your heart felt. Your eyes flicked back to the box. Then you nodded and gently took it.

Ransom exhaled loudly as you smiled and nodded towards your bag.

“Imma need to put it in there…”

"Okay," he nodded. He figured that was what you wanted.

He passed it over and you stored the box carefully, zipping it into the compartment for safe keeping.

Soon enough, the two of you were on your way, copied of the ultrasound pictures with you. He took you to lunch in the Harbor. The changing of the seasons didn't make for a great view, but the gesture was there. The pair of you chatted, in a way you’d always been able to. About anything and everything.

Certain subjects were off limits, elephants in the room. But it was smooth. The ride back to the mansion was quiet but not unbearable. Your mind whirred. So much had gone on in the last few hours it seemed, and it had you thinking. Your eyes would flick to your bag at your feet, and you'd chew on your cheek.

“Princess?”

"Hmm?" You hummed softly.

“Are you coming in or do you want to head back to…to Ari’s?”

"I'd like to stay a little longer," you admitted.

“You can stay as long as you want.” Ransom took a deep breath. “If it was up to me you’d never leave.”

You softly smiled at the sentiment as he opened his door. He strode round to yours and offered you his hand.

You took it and allowed him to help you out of the car. His hand settled on the small of your back as he led you to the front doors. Once inside, he took the time to follow you into the foyer and then toward the kitchen where you left your bag on the island. You took the ultrasound images out of your purse and set the on the marble.

"Can I keep one?" Ransom asked as he stood behind you, his arms snaking around your middle to rest his hands on your stomach.

"You can have more than one." You turned your chin, so you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” His lips curled up at the side.

"Yeah, you can have half if you'd like, they gave us six," you chuckled.

Ransom snorted as he kissed your neck, “I think I’ll stick one to the fridge.”

"Oh my, that's a big step," you sniggered. "Big Mob Boss Ransom Drysdale puts a picture on the stainless steel."

“Hey, that’s my future son and heir.”

"Or daughter."

“Whatever.”

"I'm only kidding," you leaned back into him a little.

“Me too, sorta. I don’t mind what they turn out to be. As long as they’re healthy.”

"Me either. But it'd be interesting to see you with a daughter. It'd be entirely comical to see you with a son."

“Why comical?”

"Because I can see it." You turned in his arms and wrapped your own around his neck after they slid up his chest. "A little boy with your eyes that reins terror over this house and your kingdom. God help you when they're sixteen."

Ransoms brows flicked up before he gave a lowly chuckle, “well, maybe having a girl wouldn’t be so bad. There’s one obvious upside to that too.”

"Which is?" You cocked your head to the side a little as you looked up.

“They’re more likely to be like you, less like me. Not quite as fucked up.”

Your face softened, "Ransom." Your eyes welled up, "don't you ever say that again."

He licked his lips and hung his head, “I’m sorry…”

Your hands moved from around his neck to his jawline, your fingers spreading over his cheeks. "You're not a perfect man, but you're not fucked up either. You fell from grace, but that doesn't mean you can't change, or you haven't already made changes. I see you for what you're worth, Ransom. Our children will too."

At that he swallowed, his eyes misted over before he frowned a little, a soft smirk spreading across his face. “Children?”

You gave a soft smirk and a little pop to your shoulder, "I won't rule it out."

Ransom opened his mouth, but closed it again, and instead his hands cupped your face. “I don’t deserve you.”

You could see the turmoil in his eyes, he felt guilty. Guilty over what he’d put you through, ashamed of what he’d done to you, how he’d hurt you the way he did.

"We're gonna get through this," you encouraged. "It doesn't feel like it, but we will. I still love you."

“I love you too, so fucking much princess.” He sniffed.

You swallowed and sniffed, "I know."

He leaned down to you, his nose bumping yours gently before he kissed you.

There was something different to this kiss than the others you’d shared since you agreed to work things through. It was laden with emotion. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tenderness behind his lips made your stomach somersault. Your fingers pressed into the nape of his neck as a small whimper slipped through your throat.

“Fahk…” Ransom wrenched his lips away and pressed his head to yours.

You were a little breathless and lightheaded. "Ransom...."

“I know…too soon.”

"Just kiss me again."

With a surprised blink that merged into a soft smile, Ransom did exactly as you asked.

Again, the kiss was heady and needy. You needed him, no, you for the first time in a long time, you wanted him.

“Take me to bed.” You whispered, your eyes closed as he pulled away, lips mere centimetres from each other.

"Yeah?" It was barely a whisper, in fact you weren't sure he spoke at all, but you felt the word on your lips.

"Yes."

His lips were back on yours, those hands that cupped your face slid down your arms to your hips before they curled around your thighs.

In an easy movement he lifted you off your feet, your legs wrapping around his waist. He grimaced slightly, but made no moves to set you down.

"Be careful," you spoke gently. "You're still healing.”

“I’m fine, princess.”

"Okay," you kissed him again.

Somehow you ended up in the bedroom you once shared, him having carried you up the stairs.

Ransom set you down gently on the bed, bending at his waist to continue kissing you. When he pulled away for just a moment, you saw a hunger in his eyes you hadn't seen in a long time. A hunger that made you tingle and a spark that set your inside on fire. But there was a softness behind the hunger that made you want him more. You easily took the lead and grabbed the side of your sweater, pulling it up and over your head, tossing it to the floor.

Ransom wanted to touch you, put his hands on you. Felt desperate to have your skin at his fingertips. You waited on bated breath for him to do something.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he swallowed.

A step forward closed the space between you, and he settled between your legs. His hand cupped your face and settled into a cradle against your jaw. He rubbed his thumb across your cheek bone then slowly dragged along the column of your neck until he reached your sternum. With a flat palm, he gently pushed until your back hit the mattress.

You couldn’t help the little giggle that flew from your lips as your head hit the soft surface of the comforter.

You watched as Ransom pulled his own sweater off, tossing it somewhere over his head.

Your eyes glazed over with desire as you watched him kneel against the mattress and began to cover your body with his. But you didn’t miss the scar that ran along his side, where his brother had done his best to take his life.

It was still red and raised. A mark that wouldn't fade for a long while. Your fingers reached out and lightly grazed it.

Ransom swallowed as he watched your eyes follow your fingers before your gaze flicked to his.

“It’s the only thing left of him.” He shook his head, as he reached for your hand. “And soon, it’ll fade to nothing. Like he has.” His lips kissed the pads of your fingers.

You nodded, your lip tucked between your teeth. It was the only truth you needed. The baby in your belly was his and only his. Nothing else mattered.

He let go of your hand and leaned over, his lips brushing yours before they moved to the hinge of your jaw.

Your mouth parted in a sigh as you bent upward to kiss him. You traced the seam of his lips with your tongue and Ransom eagerly responded but kept allowing you to lead the pace.

There was a fear in the back of his mind that you'd change your mind, tell him to stop. That all this was a mistake. But the minute your hand slid up over his shoulder, nails caressing the short hair at the nape of his neck, that fear left him.

He kissed your lips, your jaw, your neck. He nipped gently at your collarbone, fluttered kisses between your bra covered breasts and you hissed as he palmed your left one with his right hand.

"Are you okay?" Ransome wondered against your skin.

"Just sensitive," you smirked.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.”

"You won't."

“Tell me if I do.”

“Ransom...."

Yeah?”

"I want you. I want...I want this. Stop stalling."

“I’m sorry.” He sighed.

You cupped his face, "no more sorry."

Okay…” he nodded, as he took a deep breath. “I love you.”

"I...we love you."

With a soft expression on his face, his lips were back on yours.

With tenderness you knew he was capable of, he stripped you, kissing every inch of skin he could find.

You sighed and gasped, hummed and whimpered. You were already wet between your legs and by the time you were naked, you were squeezing your thighs together for relief.

As his knee nudged your thighs apart, his hands reached up and his fingers slipped between yours.

You felt his tip kiss at your slit, and you titled your hips upward. Ransom slid in with a slow and shallow thrust.

"Oh my god...”

“Shit, princess. Fahk…”

"You feel so good, baby...."

“You too…” he groaned as he pulled back, and then pushed deeper into you with a roll of his hips.

Your back arched off the mattress as your body curled around him completely. You crossed your ankles at the small of his back and squeezed his fingers between yours.

His lips crashed back to yours in a desperate kiss.

Your tongue forced upon his and he growled against your kiss. You whimpered at the thrust he reciprocated with. It only made you speak against his lips.

"Faster," you begged.

With a low moan, he gripped your hands tighter as his hips began to thrust.

"Oh fuck, thassit, Ransom..."

“Oh, baby…” he choked, his lips latching onto your pulse point, “I missed this. I missed you.”

“Oh shit," you whined. "Me...too..."

“My Queen…” he whispered, his nose brushing the shell of your ear.

"My King," you rasped.

You felt him shudder, a soft whimper escaping his mouth and it made your insides burn. The power you held over him, the way you could reduce him to a quivering wreck. Such a ruthless man in his business, ruling his kingdom with an iron fist and yet you could undo him simply with words.

"S'close, Ran," you moaned.

“Me too, baby.”

"Just...right...."

He knew how to read your body like a cartographer knew how to read a map. He knew where to touch, where to kiss, where to brush gently and where to grab a little more firmly…

The beginning flutters of your orgasm coiled around his cock and your fingers began to squeeze his a little harder. "Ransom, I'm....I'm gonna..." You sighed with a high pitch to your breath as you came. Your body tenderly tensed around him as your heels pressed against him, your toes curled.

“Oh, thassit…” his eyes watched your face. He loved seeing you fall apart, the way your jaw laxed, how your eyelashes kissed your cheeks like the fluttering wings of a butterfly.

He wasn't far behind you. His body flexed above you, his fingers tight and palms pressing the back of your hands into the mattress.

When you opened your eyes, you saw the look on his face before he whimpered and let himself press into you a little more, his face buried into your neck.

"Oh, baby," you cooed.

He didn’t reply, simply nuzzled into you more. And it was only when you felt the wetness against your skin that you realise he was crying.

Your eyes stung, too. There were a lot of emotions that came through the course of the day, and it seemed to have settled between the two of you at the end of your physical reconnecting. You kissed his shoulder and whispered that things were okay. That you were okay, and the two of you were okay.

Eventually he pulled back, and you wriggled your fingers free from his. With a soft smile you reached up and brushed back the longer strands of hair that had flipped forward over his forehead.

"I wanna come home," you whispered wetly.

“You are…” Ransom’s voice cracked, “you don’t ever have to leave.”

******

You stayed that night. And you stayed the next night. And the night after that. On the fourth day your engagement ring was back on your finger, and by the seventh most of your stuff was back from Ari’s. The items you left, which Carter had put into storage instead of being destroyed as Ransom had instructed, were returned to their rightful place and it was as if you’d never been gone.

Christmas came and went, you spent it at home, just you, Ransom and Ari. The New Year passed, the snow melted, the spring flowers emerged. And, as the seasons changed, so did your body. Your bump blossomed like the trees, your eyes shone like the diamond on your hand, and to Ransom you were simply more beautiful with each day that passed.

Before you knew it, six months had passed. Things on Ransom's 'business' end were still a tight ship.

He hadn’t attempted to seize Brooklyn, instead he’d left the power vacuum to sort it sort itself out. His personal involvement with the ‘dodgy dealings’ had become less and less, his outside focus mainly on the Publishing Company. His attempt was to at least appear more straight on the outside, the unborn baby in your belly his number one priority.

He didn’t want your son, or daughter, being born into any kind of turf war, despite him joking about them being heir to his empire. He wanted safety, security for them, and if that meant appearing to go straight, so be it. He kept peace with the other factions and mobs in the area.

But he still ruled his own with an iron fist.

One particular day in April, you’d met your friend for a spa day, a bit of pampering whilst he held a meeting in his office.

“So, whaddya want me to do boss?” Langley asked, “send a message? I mean, do we want the Maximoffs muscling in on this?”

Ransom pondered for a moment, then looked across the table to Stark. “What do you think?”

Tony wrinkled his nose, “it depends, do you wanna rock the boat?”

Ransom tapped his fingers on the desk, “leave it be, it ain’t important. Let them take their shipment. It won’t have a big effect.”

“You’re the boss.” Langley shrugged.

An hour or so later, the rest of his men had left, leaving him and Langley alone.

“I gotta hand it to you, Dysdale, you really have calmed down a lot. Impending Fatherhood suits you.”

Ransom merely flicked his brows.

“I know what happened with Rogers was shitty, but… well, looks like it all turned out for the best, huh?” Langley stood from his chair, “whoever it was that sent that photo to you did you a favour in the long run.”

Random cocked his head to one side, studying the man in front of him through narrowed eyes. “Hmmm.”

“Anyway, I have stuff to do so I will see you tomorrow, Boss.”

“Sure.” Ransom nodded, reaching into his desk drawer.

With a final nod, Bryce turned to go, but stopped dead when he heard the loud click of a gun mechanism being cocked.

“You know, I knew Walt had to have someone pushing his buttons. The Iago to his Othello, so to speak, but I never expected it to be you.” Ransom’s voice was cool and collected as Langley turned to him, his eyes narrowing.

“Boss, I’m not-“

“I told no one I’d been sent those photos,” Ransom chewed the inside of his cheek as he rose gracefully from his seat.

“What?” Langley’s voice was a whisper as he swallowed, realising his mistake. His eyes were fearful as he watched Ransom round the desk and advance on him, like a tiger stalking its prey.

“So, the only possible explanation for you knowing is if you were the one who did. And, if you knew Rumlow was going to be there, with Walt, then you had to have known about it from the start.”

Bryce floundered like a fish outta water, looking for a viable story on a dime. His eyes flicked from Ransom, then to the gun which was trained at his head.

“Why?” Ransom exhaled, “come on, humour me. And don’t try and tell me it was all Walt, because we both know if brains were dynamite he wouldn’t have enough to blow off his eyebrow. He might have wanted the head seat at the table but there’s no way he’d have come up with something so elaborate. So, here’s your moment. The big confession before I blow your brains out.”

Langley blinked, before his jaw set, and an angry look crossed his face. Ransom recognised it as resignation, and he openly smirked. He knew his childhood friend too well, Bryce understood his time was up and he wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to explain, gaud Ransom one last time.

“The plan was to get rid of you and Steve, frame it as a rivalry gone wrong with the Maximoffs. Then Walt would take the lot, the business, inheritance. I’d get twenty percent, plus Brooklyn.” He clicked his tongue, “only Rumlow fucked the hit up, hit Peggy instead. It could have screwed it all up-“

“Then Steve killed Rumlow…and you saw your next opportunity, right?” Ransom arched a brow, “I played right into your hands, I listened to you, and I didn’t give Steve an alibi for Rumlow’s murder.”

“You always listened to me,” Bryce scoffed, “Walt was right, you were too soft. You’d have done it for him, despite everything that had happened between you. But I convinced you and then we had a new plan. We’d wait, bide our time, feed Steve a little metaphorical ammo and then he’d come after you.”

“So, you’re the reason he thought I organised the hit?”

Langley nodded, “I expected him to kill you, take out a hit of his own…but as time went on, it never came. Then it all went to shit. We didn’t expect Steve to get out as quickly as he did, not before we had come up with another plan. I mean, I wasn’t bothered at first, I expected him to kill you, not to…well…anyway, he totally fucked the whole thing up. And I knew it would only be a matter of time before you both started digging and the truth came out.”

“So, you panicked.” Ransom felt the nerve in his jaw tick. “You sent the photos to get yourself off the hook.”

Langley licked his lips, “when I heard that Levinson was looking into it, yeah. I cut my losses and sent him the photo with the intent of leading him to Walt. Then that asshole Barnes stabbed him so…”

“You sent it to me.” Ransom finished.

Langley nodded.

“Ransom took a deep breath. “You seriously did all this for money? You caused all this for…”

“No, it wasn’t just for money!” Langley’s face grew red, and Ransom notices with some amusement the man was shaking, a combination of fear and anger no doubt. “I wanted my share, what I was owed, what is my birthright!”

“What are you talking about?” Ransom narrowed his eyes.

“Your shit head father?”

“What about him? He’s been dead for fuckin’ decades….”

“He was my shit head father too!”

For the first time since the confrontation began, Ransom wavered. His gun lowered slightly, “he…you’re my…”

“Half-brother? Yeah, that’s right, he was fucking my mother, and he left her pregnant and penniless! You two got the big house, the private education, the family business…I got fuck all!”

“I…I had no idea.” Ransom shook his head.

“Neither did I until a few years back. But would it have made a difference?” Bryce scoffed.

Ransom hesitated for a moment, before he licked his lips, “you know, had you told me before all this…honestly? Yeah…yeah it would. I’d have done something…I mean…I was always closer to you than I was to my own twin!”

Ransom swallowed. This betrayal was hard to take. He’d always loved Bryce as a brother and had often wished he were his twin, not Steve. They’d been inseparable from the day they met, and Ransom had done everything he could to help Bryce. It had started with sharing sweets and toys, and in the end becoming his right hand man, paying him a wage he knew would set him up for life.

But all that…all that was crashing down around him.

He ran his hand over his face, groaning a little. “What a fuckin’ mess…”

“Ransom…” Bryce spotted the chink in the mob boss’ armour and jumped on it, “look, we can…I know I fucked up, but we can get through this.”

Ransom lowered his gun even more, and Langley let out a breath of relief, as Ransom looked at him.

“See…the thing is, Y/N.”

“What about her?” Bryce frowned.

“She’s my world. I killed my own twin because of what he did to her. And then I…I hurt her even more because of my anger and stupidity and I was so goddamned easily manipulated and twisted by what he did. I’ll never forgive myself for being so cruel and fucking weak.”

“But she’s forgiven-“

“And now I find out… all that was down to you and Walt.” Ransom finished, cutting Bryce off and the man stuttered.

“What, no, I-“

“Steve did what he did because he thought I killed his wife. Which, I suppose is understandable. I’d have done the same, well maybe not the exact same but I’d want revenge.” Ransom pondered for a moment and Langley waited, his entire body tense as he watched Ransom slowly raise the gun again. “Y/N has suffered the way she has because of Walt and your actions. You arranged the hit, you then let him think it was me. And for that…”

Ransom pulled the trigger, blowing a hole right through Langley’s eyes, exactly the same way he had done with Steve. He grimaced as, once more, bits of blood, bone and brain matter splattered across his face. This time they belonged to his half-brother.

The door to the room flew open and Carter bustled in, gun raises. He stopped dead as he looked from the smoking pistol in Ransom’s hand, to Langley, then back again, “boss…what-“

“He was in on it,” Ransom jerked out of his trance and turned to Carter. “With Walt.”

There was a moments pause and Carter let out a soft sigh, and Ransom saw the man’s eyes full with tears.

“I’m…I’m sorry none of this will bring Peggy back,” Ransom licked his lips, shaking his head a little, “I only hope you find comfort from knowing the men truly responsible are dead.”

Carter nodded and opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Ransom’s phone. He reached into his pocket and a smile spread across his face.

“Sweetheart?”

“Yeah, erm, I’m just on my way home.“ your voice was soothing, as it always was, and he took a deep breath.

“How was the spa?”

“Amazing…erm, do you mind if we just get pizza and a film tonight instead of going out? I…I just wanna curl up and relax now. Plus, our little bean seems to be doing the tango on my bladder…”

“Whatever you want.”

“Okay, have you finished your meetings?”

“Yeah,” Ransom glanced down at Langley’s body, and the mess in his office, “I just need to tidy up a couple of things then I’m done.

“Okay, well I’ll see you soon. We love you.”

“Love you both, too.”

He slipped the phone in his pocket and looked at Carter. He drew his shoulders back and wiped the forearm of the hand that still clutched the gun across his face, smearing the blood and gore over the sleeve of his shirt.

“Get someone to clean this up.” He instructed, his tone still softer than normal and Carter nodded.

“Boss.”

With that, Ransom stepped over the body of his dead half-brother and swept from the room, without so much as a glance back.

He was done looking over his shoulder. The only thing he cared about was you, and his baby.

And no one was ever going to threaten what the pair of you had ever again.

#brothers in arms #mob ransom drysdale x reader #mob Ransom Drysdale x you #mob ransom drysdale #mob au #ransom Drysdale x you #ransom Drysdale x reader #knives out #knives out au #knives out fanfiction #ransom drysdale fanfiction

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yeeehwa · 1 year

Text

Turbulence (Part Four)

Pairing: OT8 x fem!reader

Warnings: language

Word count: 3,619

Tag list: @layzfeelit @dream-in-progress @mingkilovur @jenseok17 @camzpetite @jjaelly @yeosxxx @8tinytings @marsattacks @eastleighsblog @jackinmyarea @stopeatread @goldnhwa @loverlele @popcatx0 @lost-midnight-flower @kiwibaekie @starillusion13 @vampcharxter @reallysparklychaos

A/N: I’m so so so sorry this took so long to post. Life has thrown me a TON of curveballs lately and I’ve been dealing with them the best I can. I have had this written for a while but wasn’t completely happy with it until a few days ago where I was able to edit it. I think I finally settled on the direction I want to take with this and I appreciate each and every one of you being so patient and supportive of me 💕 I’m sorry if there are any formatting errors. I uploaded on mobile at work since my computer decided to die on me. I’ll post links and everything when I get home and can borrow a laptop to use.

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Lights streamed in through the blinds and thin curtain you had haphazardly thrown up the night you moved in. It shone in your eyes and you grumbled, cuddling closer under the covers. Your hand searched for your phone as your head stayed under the covers. A few pats and extensions of your arms, you found it. Pulling the charger from it, it lit up.

“Shit!” You sat up in the bed, jerking Major awake in the process. He barked and whined, looking at you with such betrayal in his eyes as he settled himself back down. You heard him whine in discontent as you threw the covers off of you and rushed out of the room.

“Mina!”

“You don’t have to yell. I’m right here.” She emerged from the kitchen, dressed to the nines in simple black slacks and maroon button down. Black heels and a trench coat completed her outfit. “What do you want?” She looked you up and down. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

“I woke up late.” You grabbed the coffee cup out of her hand, and chugged the rest of it. Mina glared at you and you sent her a cheeky smile.

“We have to leave in 10. Hurry your ass up.” She rolled her eyes at you and turned her back to you, gone to refill her cup.

Back in your room, you looked at the outfit you had picked out days before. A pair of high waisted black and white plaid pants, and a long sleeved black sweater that you had modified. You had cut and re-hemmed the bottom just enough that if you lifted your arms and stretched a small sliver of skin would show, but still look tasteful. A cute black belt, combat boots, leather jacket and a wide brimmed hat finished your look.

You checked yourself over in the mirror, quickly swiping on a layer of mascara, and some lipgloss, you were ready. You had noticed on your walks around the city and research into the culture here that women usually went more natural with their makeup, so you decided to do the same. You grabbed your tote bag and checked through it, making sure you had your wallet, sunglasses, sketchbook, and, more importantly, all the paperwork you needed for your first day.

“Are you ready?” Mina yelled at you. You could hear her heels tapping impatiently on the tiled floor. You walked out into the hallway to meet her, Major lazily watching you both from the couch.

Mina looked you up and down, and smirked. “You’re going to cause a riot. I love it.” She eyed your tote bag. “Bring that face jewel thing you made for Hunter.”

You opened your mouth to say something when she cut you off. “Yeah yeah I snooped. It looks good, and will impress the head stylists. It’ll make a good first impression.”

Unsure, you went to protest again before she held her hand up to stop you. “If you don’t grab it. I will. Go.” She pointed towards your room.

You made a show of rolling your eyes at her before turning to grab it. “Yes mom.” Sarcasm dripped from your words as you grabbed the jewelry container that held the handmade piece. You stowed I’d safely in your bag.

She noises at you as she saw you stow the item away. “Good. Let’s go.” She walked to the front door, opened it, and waited for you.

“Bye puppy!” You leaned down and gave Major some love before hearing Mina huff out in annoyance. “Ignore her. You know she’s not a morning person.” You teased her, and kisses the top of Majors head. “We’ll go on another walk when I get home! Promise.” You walked out the door, Mina following suit and locking it behind you.

“The relationship you and your dog have is weird.” She led the way out of the lobby and down the street. You were happy you lived so close to the KQ building that you could just walk.

“You’re just jealous.” You fell a few steps behind her, and reached down to grab a small pile of snow.

“Don’t you even think about it!” Mina snapped, head still facing straight ahead.

You huffed, crossing your arms as you hurried your steps to catch up with her again. “How’d you know?”

She gave you an amused look. “You met WooSan.” She took a sip of her coffee.

“That’s fair.” The one interaction that you had with the two of them, and you already knew that they were always antagonizing Mina and the others. Troublemakers if there ever were. Especially Wooyoung.

“What are the rest of them like?” You were curious, after meeting those two, how the other six acted. Especially around each other.

Mina thought for a second. “Hongjoong is very stern. Atinys, their fans, call him the dad of the group. He can be very bold, and loves to take risks with his style, but he can also be very bashful and flusters kind of easily.” She smiled softly, thinking about the men who have become more than just her managees over the past year, they’ve become friends. Confidants in a way she didn’t think possible. “I’ve never met someone who was more of a workaholic than you until I met him.” She shoved her elbow into your side in a teasing gesture.

“Looks like I’ll have to work harder then.” You stuck your tongue between your teeth towards her, your breath clouding in the air in front of you. “What about Yeosang?” You remember her talking about them at one point or another, but his name was the only one that you remembered.

She thought for a second. “Yeosang is quiet. He may act clueless, but he’s very calculated. He’s always observing. Probably one of my favorites of the group.” She narrowed her eyes at you. “If you tell any of them that I’ll smother you in your sleep.”

You made a shocked fact and dramatically put your hand over your heart. “I would never.” You smiled at her. “But. I might use it as leverage later. We’ll see.”

She rolled her eyes at you but continued. “He’s very smart. As I said, he’s always watching. Yeosang is the type of person who will pick up on your smallest tell that something is wrong and will immediately know something is wrong. He remembers all the small things about you and will use that to his advantage. Him and Seonghwa are very similar in that way.”

You smiled as her eyes shone with fondness for the men she describes. “I know you’ve told me a little about Seonghwa. I remember you gushing to me over how handsome and gentlemanly he was.”

She smiled. “Oh yeah. I was smitten with that man. I’m thankful those feelings have settled. I can finally be in the same room as him without acting like an utter fool.” She laughed, and turned the corner. It took you a second before it registered you were turning and hurried up to catch up with her again.

“Tell me about him, since he’s obviously your favorite.” A teasing lilt to your voice as you linked your hands together.

She ignored the teasing. “The fans call him the mom of the group, and he really is. He looks out for the others and is very genuine with the love and concern he shows them. He’s very loving, and always takes care of them, and the staff. He’s the first to offer to grab staff a drink or food. One of the women who worked in the concept department was pregnant, and when Seonghwa found out? Oh boy. He asked everyone what the gender was and bought her toys and clothes for the baby. She was having a boy. I remember having to talk her out of naming her baby after him.” She sighed. “He remembers the smallest details about a person. You mention you love to read offhandedly? He’ll remember. Will probably try to find out who your favorite author is and gift a book to you. Just because.” She shrugged. “He’s a kind man.”

“I don’t think that crush is fully over yet.” You winked at her and laid your head on her shoulder, swinging your interlocked hands.

She shoved you off of her. “The only feelings I have towards him is one of a younger brother. Even though I’m only a few months older.”

You laughed then shivered. A gust of cold wind seeping into the jackets you both wore. “Are we almost there?”

“Yeah. A few more blocks. Promise.” She squeezed your hand. “Jongho is a man of few words, but damn he’s got the voice of an angel. That man is so talented, it’s crazy.” She shook her head. “He’s also very mature for being the maknae, and often gets confused as being the oldest. He told himself high, but also can be very impatient. He gets embarrassed almost as easily as Hongjoong does. He’s savage as hell though. He knows how to take teasing and throw it right back, with some bite.” She laughed to herself. “He also hates the quiet.” She added.

You looked at her confused. “He’s quiet, but hates the quiet?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. I’m going to need you to elaborate.”

“He’s quiet when they’re all together. But if there’s silence or a kind of lul in the conversation, he’ll start singing. Loudly. Beautifully, but loudly. I can’t hear myself think sometimes.” She chuckled at her last statement. “But I love him. I love all of them.”

You nodded, understanding what she meant. “I envy the relationships you seem to have built with them.” You looked down at your hands, playing with the rings you wore. “I hope that I can build relationships like that with KQ Fellaz. And Ateez, if you’re so determined to get me to work with them.”

Mina grabbed both your hands, noticing your figiting. “Stop that.” She knew your tells, and knew you were starting to get really anxious about your first day. “I promise, you will be okay. I’ll be with you the whole day. Edenary has the boys today, so I’m all yours.” She wrapped one of her arms around your shoulders and squeezed.

You instantly felt some tension leave you. You smiled at her gratefully when she pulled away. “Thank you.”

“What are besties for? Speaking of besties, I haven’t told you about Yungi yet.”

You cocked another eyebrow at her. “Yungi?”

“Best friends. Almost as close as Woosan. But, not as chaotic, thank god. Those two alone turn my hair gray.” She laughed. “Mingi is such a shy, sweet man. Complete opposite of how he is on stage. The duality he has is unreal. He’s like Yeosang, but genuinely is confused. He’s the biggest teddy bear. He has anxiety too.”

She sent you a small smile, and you felt a little more tension left. If an idol, who is in the press and followed around daily can do it and still be in the spotlight, you’d be fine in the background, for now. You let yourself focus on that as Mina stopped.

“Where here.” She laced her hand through yours once again. “You ready?”

You took a deep breath and nodded, but you knew she could feel how clammy your hands were. She squeezed. “You’re gonna do fine. I bet you once you meet Sumin, you’ll love him! He likes to modify clothes too.”

You perked up at that. “A kid after my own heart.” You fake swooned as Mina lead you toward the doors of KQ Entertainment.

“Hongjoong likes it too. I bet once you meet, he’ll just die. None of our stylists create or modify. They just source and get stuff commissioned.” Mina smirked, knowing exactly how Hongjoong would react once he saw your sketchbook, and knowing how loose-lipped Wooyoung was, he would’ve been bragging to Hongjoong about what he saw when he essentially broke into your room the other night while you worked.

“Deep breath, and let’s go.” Mina opened the door and pushed you into the lobby.

The lobby was very homey, and not at all what you expected. There was an entryway that made you scan a badge and would let you through a little door that opened, almost like the subway stations back in New York. Beside them sat a large white desk with the KQ Entertainment logo. A few people milled around the desk, while two ladies sat behind it. One on the phone, speaking quickly and the other looking at the computer screen in front of her.

“You’re missing the best part.” You couldn’t see her, but could tell that Mina had a mischievous smile on her face.

You sharply turned to look at her, eyes wide. You already started to feel a little overwhelmed. “What’s that?”

“The Cafe.” She smirked at you. “They have coffee.” At your grimace she rolled her eyes at you. “And tea.” That earned her a smile. “You’re weird. Everyone likes coffee.”

“I guess I’m not everyone.” You shrugged, eyes still scanning the lobby. “If this is just the lobby, I'm excited to see the rest of the building.”

Mina smiled. “We need to get you your badge first, and your meeting with the big boss. Then I can give you an official tour. I think KQ Fellaz are recording some tiktoks today too, so you might be able to meet some, if not all, of them.”

You nodded, processing everything she had just told you. “Okay.”

She grabbed your wrist and dragged you over to the counter and conversed with one of the ladies there, and was handed a packet. You didn’t pay attention, too busy gawking at all the people and the decor.

“Thank you!” You heard Mina say, and you focused in on the conversation again. She turned and looked at you, slowly walking towards the little entryway. “You didn’t listen to a word we said, did you.” It wasn’t a question. More of a statement.

A blush crept up your neck and your ears turned red. “Maybe.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “Scan this.” She handed you a basic white card, vaguely reminiscent of a credit card. “It’s exactly like the subway at home. Scan the card, go through the doors. Simple.” She did as she had instructed you to do as an example and you followed her lead.

You followed her down a hallway to the elevators, your eyes darting back and forth from all the posters on the wall. A soloist you’ve never heard of, Young Saeng, and a group of eight men you knew to be Ateez, recognizing Wooyoung and San. The other six members looked familiar, but you couldn’t figure out why. You chose to ignore that feeling as you entered the elevator behind Mina.

“The stylist department is on the third floor. Along with makeup, and basically every other visual aspect KQ talent goes through. Maddox, Ateez, and KQ Fellaz frequently rotate through, so you’ll become familiar with them all soon enough.

“The first floor is the cafe, check in area, and all basic needs. The second floor is where idols spend most of their time. Dance studios and recording rooms. I cannot begin to tell you how often I have found Hongjoong asleep at the mixing station.” She smiled fondly. “The fourth floor is upper management and such. I spend way too much time there, and prefer being on the second floor.”

The elevator stopped, and the doors slid open. “You’ll be meeting with the head stylists and some other management. I’ll be in the meeting as well. If you need grounding, just look at me.” She smiled warmly at you and gave your hand a reassuring squeeze as you followed her into the meeting room.

Eight pairs of eyes zeroed in on you both as you entered the room. Men and women dressed in full suits, or business casual, or a weird mix of both. You mentally grimaced at one of the men who wore a bright orange shirt button down under his blazer.

“Ah. You must be Y/N!” A lady said, a closed lip smile on her face. “Mina-ah has told us a lot about you.”

You shot Mina the side eye as she blushed and ducked her head in embarrassment. She detached herself from your side, slightly shoving you to one end of the table, and she joined the group of people on the other side.

You bowed before addressing them. “I am. I really do appreciate this opportunity.” You put your hands behind your back as you stood, nervously figuring with the rings you always wore. Mina noticed and sent you an encouraging head nod.

You swallowed nervously. “As Mina has probably told you, I do more than style, but design as well.” You reached into your bag that was still slung over your shoulder. “I’ve been watching some of the content that has been posted about them and trying to get an idea of what their personalities are like and what they seem to be comfortable in.” You opened the pad and flipped to a page of Minjae.

“Looking closely at Minjae, and knowing his interests, I took a more hip-hop styled approach.” You quickly laid it on the table and pushed it slightly towards the nine people who looked at you with curiosity.

One man leaned forward to slide the sketchbook closer to them. You mentally pictured what they saw. Mainly black colored sweatpants with accents of white on the flaps of pockets and strings that hung down from the sides. An oversized sweater that had smoke in the shape of hands reaching for each other in the middle of it. It was nothing super original to you, just one of the first things that came to your mind when you first saw Minjae.

The silence in the room was deafening as they all flipped through your sketchbook. Small hums can be heard, but you weren’t sure if they were of appreciation or distaste. That is, until they got to the face chain you made for Hunter.

An approving hum came from a woman who you were sure was as the head stylist by how she was dressed. She wore cream colored pants that were rolled up at the ankles, a white button down underneath a beige knit sweater vest. She looked effortlessly put together and she was stunning in your eyes.

You looked at Mina, who gave you a dazzling smile. “She made it too. I watched her. Wooyoung almost broke it as she worked on it, trying to convince her to let him wear it.” She laughed. “I made her bring it with her today.”

You were already finishing around in your bag for the little jewelry case that held the chain when you were asked to bring it out. Your hand clutched the velvety box and you let out a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. You never liked showing your creations to strangers when they knew you made it.

You pulled out the box slowly, hands shaking, and set it on the table, slowly sliding it towards them. The woman grabbed it and slowly opened it, her face staying neutral this time. Her eyes darted from the box to the drawing, not saying a word.

She passed the box to the next person and so on until all of them had seen it. They all shared looks before one man cleared his throat. “There are some things we need to discuss. If you could please sit outside for a moment.”

You froze when he said that. Were they going to fire you? Before you even started? Your blood ran cold and your heart pounded in your chest. “O-of course.” You studdeded and slowly walked towards the door.

A few agonizing minutes after standing outside, and almost on the brink of an anxiety attack, the door to the meeting room opened behind you, and Minas' voice called to you. It didn’t sound angry, or disappointed. “Y/N? You can come back now.”

You took a few deep, calming breaths as you turned to face her, hands clasped together tightly to hide how nervous you were. “I’m fired, aren’t I?”

She rolled her eyes before pulling you back into the meeting room and directed you to stand in the same spot as before.

“After seeing what you designed, and the chain you created” the man who sat in the middle of the group started. Your eyes shifted to Mina, who sent you a thumbs up. “We would like to offer you to work with Ateez.”

You stood there, stunned for a moment, while trying to figure out what words were and how to use them again.

“It would be temporary. Think of it like a trial of sorts.” A lady who sat to the left of you said. “Ateez is competing on another show that's very similar to how Kingdom was. The team could use someone like you to help with the designs.” She gave you a warm smile.

Your eyes widened. “That’s a lot of responsibility to throw onto someone who hasn’t proved their worth. I don’t think I can accept. I-“

The same woman waved her hand in the air, causing your words to die in your throat. “Nonsense. What we hear from Mina, and the designs you’ve showed us already, we have faith that you’ll succeed.” Her smile never left her face.

You eyes shot to Mina and she sent you a smug grin as you mustered up a nervous smile. You were too much of a people pleaser to say no.

“I accept.”

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