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mimi-cee-genshin · 1 year ago

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A Slight of Hand Makes Colour - Lyney x f!reader

Summary: You think Lyney hates you. He's never used his charm on you. Lynette's response? If you look behind his ear, just under the stands of his hair, the answer will magically appear. (A cute and heartwarming getting together fic that I hope will make you smile.)

Other info: fluff, cute, some hurt/comfort, some pining, family, getting together, yes I know it's "sleight of hand", 2.5k words

*****

"Does Lyney hate me?"

You sat in front of the cafe with Lynette, enjoying a late night drink, and typically you'd be enjoying the silence and scenery together. But your thoughts slipped out of your mouth before you could snatch them back, ruining the peaceful moment you were having.

"Forget what I said," you said, eyes darting back to your drink.

Lynette placed her cup down and put a new cake slice on her plate. "Why do you ask?" she said with no hint of shock on her face.

"No. It was a stupid question." You took a sip, hoping she'd drop the topic.

"I see… Have you finally begun to wonder why Lyney has never used his charm on you?" she asked.

Your drink went down your throat the wrong way and you began to cough. "How did you know?" you asked, a little embarrassed.

"I could tell from how you were eyeing him as he welcomed our newest guest," she explained.

Nothing got past Lynette. You knew better than to try to hide anything from her. You'd often wondered if her greatest talent was actually reading minds.

She was right. You had never noticed the slight difference in Lyney's behavior towards you, even though you had known the twins for a long time now. He had always treated you with care and respect, but lately, you felt ill whenever he showered others with his suave words. You used to be happy just to see him smile.

You sighed, knowing exactly why you felt this way. You just didn't want to admit it.

"I think it's the right time to tell you this," Lynette said.

"Hm?" you asked. "Tell me what?"

"There's a reason why Lyney acts differently around you," she said.

You raised your brow, but you placed your cup down anyway and to listen for her next words.

"I'll give you a hint," she said. "If you look behind his ear, just under his strands of hair, you might figure out why he treats you this way."

What? It was always hard to tell what Lynette was thinking because of the lack of emotion on her face. But even if she'd crack a joke once in a while, she wouldn't do so when you had a genuine concern.

Lynette took another sip of her cup and returned back to standby mode, drifting somewhere within the stars.

You weren't sure what to make of her comment

*****

It was four in the afternoon and the workshop needed to be cleaned before you could start any work. You took the vacuum, which Lynette fortunately didn't break yet, and removed the sawdust on the floor from this morning.

Next, you wiped down the workshop's two-way mirror, knowing Lyney would need it to test another trick today. The majority of the cleaning fell on you, which you didn't mind. You used to be a maid after all – a maid to a cold and cruel mistress. You had never expected to see the twins again after her downfall.

Lyney walked to the entrance after the doorbell had rung and greeted the lady here for a delivery. You smiled as he chatted up a storm with her, always happy to meet new people, and he even added a magic trick to top it off.

"And that concludes today's mini show," he said, returning his hat on his head. "With your lovely shirt and trousers, I hope to see your excellent style at my next performance."

Ah. Another compliment, another knot in your stomach.

At the door, Lyney received the package which reached just above his eyes when he carried it. You placed your rag down and got the other package that was left at the front door.

"Thank you, Y/n," he said with a smile.

It was a short and simple statement of appreciation, which you typically didn't mind. Yet, he didn't say, 'Thank you. Whatever would I do without you.' Nor did he say, 'You're just as reliable as always. Why, I must ensure that you never leave us!' You'd often hear these words when he talked to your co-workers.

But not with you.

You placed the package on the table beside the retrofitted vase and the room went quiet. The two of you typically didn't mind a comfortable silence, but today felt different. You went on with your work anyway, cleaning up the scraps on the work table as Lyney worked at his desk. He didn't even hum a tune as he usually did when the others were around. It was only silent with you.

You sighed, thinking you would've noticed earlier if you were as observant as Lynette. You weren't sure if the subtle difference in behavior was something you should be concerned about.

Once you were done cleaning, you peeked over Lyney's shoulder as he sketched out a mechanism he'd need for a trick. He smiled at you and pointed to the drawing, explaining to you how the system worked.

"But if I place this gear here, its axel would obstruct the door of the hidden compartment," he told you. "I'm not really sure how to solve this one."

"I see…" you said, pulling out a stool beside him. "You said the axel needs to be at least an inch long... Could you add a slot for it on the door itself?"

He placed his pencil's end on his cheek. "That could work since it's hidden anyway," he said.

He continued to alternate between thinking and drawing, often erasing his paper and even getting another sheet to redraw it. You had always admired the work he put into his shows. You enjoyed watching him passionate about his craft.

"If you look behind his ear, just under his strands of hair, you might figure out why he treats you this way," Lynette had said.

You lifted your hand up to brush his hair away from his right ear.

Lyney's pencil stopped moving and his hand was frozen in place. "W-what are you doing, Y/n?"

You were right. There was nothing there. You didn't expect anything, but you thought maybe there could've been a secret magic trick the twins set up for you. There was nothing of that sort.

And then you saw it.

"Lyney, why is your ear…"

His hand rushed to cover his ear. "I-It just turns red sometimes. That's all," he explained. "It's unfortunate that most of my tricks are done at a distance, so I don't have any plans to create tricks that involve me turning red."

"What are you even talking about–"

His hand… He was tapping his finger and counting down from five. Lyney would only do this to activate his 'performance mode', when he needed to calm his nerves.

"Lyney, is there something wrong–"

"Oh, would you look at the time... The sun is about to set," he said, leaving his chair.

"Lyney, wait!"

Crash!

The pieces from the broken vase were scattered next to your knees and under the table. Memories flooded back of your mistress's twisted scowl and piercing eyes, and you quickly bowed your head and apologized. Your breathing became shallow and your eyes didn't leave the floor.

A fan of cards appeared in front of your face.

"Now you see them, and now you…"–he pulled the cards together–"Hey, hold on a moment, why didn't the vase disappear?" Lyney said before sighing. "I guess we'll have to do it the old fashioned way."

You looked up to see Lyney's smile and outstretched hand.

"Would you like to be my assistant for today?"

You had never forgotten how you first met Lyney. Two magicians on a secret mission and your mistress and her husband had a lot to hide. And yet, Lyney had taken the time to redirect your mistress's anger and given you a hand, just like he was doing now.

You took his hand and stood to your feet, not once leaving your eyes from his.

"Now, where were… uh…" he said, breaking eye contact. He released his grip from you hand, but you held him even tighter. "You're not going to let go, are you?" he said, running his hand on the back of his neck.

"No," you said. "I'm not."

You wanted an answer. You wanted to hear it – that this man in front of you was attracted to you. A wonderful magician who won you over not only because of his magic tricks and charisma, but also because of his kindness, hard work, and love for his siblings. And yet this same person whom you admired all this time had the tips of his ears burning red at your gentle touch.

"Lyney…" you managed to say. "Do you like me?"

He sighed and laughed a little. "I guess the cat's out of the bag. There isn't a way for me to escape out of this one, is there?"

You shook your head.

He gave you a gentle smile. "Do you remember our second meeting?" he said. "When you showed up at our rendezvous point?"

Panic had covered his face when he saw you instead of Lynette, his posture revealing he wouldn't hesitate to attack you if you had harmed her in any way. You had to quickly explain how you hid Lynette in a storage room after she almost blew her cover.

"You had come up with a detailed plan that helped Lynette escape and sacrificed your own food for her as she hid. And you did all of this while you were terrified of your mistress. How could I not have fallen for you then and there?"

You had never realized that Lynette noticed you gave her your food. You would've done it for anyone, knowing what the punishment would've been if she was caught.

"Anyway, that's the story of my one-sided love. We should really fix up the vase that had fallen earlier," he said, quickly returning to the scattered pieces.

"Lyney, but…"

"Be careful now, or you might get hurt. I wouldn't want to see any tears on that beautiful face of yours–" His eyes saw the mirror behind you before he covered his face. "Um… pretend you didn't see that."

You grabbed his face and pulled it back, observing his red blush up close.

"Uh…" he said, eyes darting away. "What are you doing–"

"You know, I wondered why you never used your smooth words on me," you told him. "Why did you hide it?"

He took your hands from his face and placed them back by your sides. "Nothing good would come out of it," he said with a sigh. "Especially with my association with the Fatui."

"And what if I want to take the risk?" you said, still clinging onto his hand.

"What?"

"You've always meant a lot to me Lyney, even before my feelings turned romantic," you told him. "I've taken risks for you before. And I'm willing to do it again."

He lifted his other hand to fix a strand of hair on your head, gently pushing it back and getting a better look at your face. "You shouldn't do that to yourself, Y/n. You deserve more than that."

"We can work together," you said. "Just like we always have."

He pulled his hand out of your grip. "I… I can't," he told you. "I can't do it. How…" His voice wavered as he turned away from you. "How can I take care of you too?"

A door clicked open and you turned to look behind you. Lynette had walked into the workshop from the other room.

"Oh…" Lyney looked at her with a nervous smile. "Did you see all of that?"

Lynette pointed to the two-way mirror. You wouldn't be surprised if she heard the whole conversation.

"Lyney," she said. "Do you remember when we jumped off the cliff, and you shielded my fall before going unconscious?"

"What?" he said, turning towards her. "How could I forget? That was the day you received your vision."

Lynette placed her hand on her chest. "You've taken care of me so much for as long as I could remember," she said. "But I love you too and care dearly for Y/n as well. So if any issues arise because of your relationship with her, let me help. I'll protect you."

"I…" Lyney lowered his eyes.

"I'll be alright, because as always…" she began.

"... Lynette is by my side," Lyney finished. Yet his shoulders sagged. "I… I don't know Lynette. What if something goes horribly wrong? I don't want Y/n to take the fall too."

"Don't worry," she told him, shaking her head. "I've already gotten some ideas to get you two out of any sticky situation. Keep it a secret as long as possible and I'll prepare for any contingency plans for whatever comes up."

"I'm still not so sure…" he said.

"Both of you are also discreet and know how to keep secrets," she continued. "The rest of the family would be excited and 'Father' would be fine with it as long as she doesn't hinder any missions. We both know that won't be a problem."

You stared at Lynette, amazed she thought all of this through. She really wanted this to work out, wanted us to work out.

Lyney placed his hand on his chin and thought for a long while. Both you and Lynette gave him a chance to think and didn't mind the silence he needed.

"So what's your plan?" he finally asked.

"For now, the biggest issue is that Lyney needs to figure out how to stop blushing." Lynette turned to you. "I figured that giving you the hint would get Lyney the help he needed with that."

"You gave her a hint?" exclaimed Lyney. "About my blushing? Lynette… I told you to keep it a secret."

"It was going to show sooner or later," she said. "Better here in the workshop than in public."

"Oh Lynette…" Lyney whined. "I can't believe you were the one who started this."

The tips of your mouth tugged back into a grin, seeing Lyney's arms relax a little. "So is that all he needs to do?" you asked. "Just stop blushing?"

"It's not that easy," Lyney said, a bit embarrassed. "Which was why I've been cautious with my words around you."

"Then why don't you practice now?" you said with a smile.

"What?"

"Practice flirting me until you can stop going red."

"I… uh…"

"What? Is the great magician who's a master at winning hearts actually at a loss for words?" you teased.

"I can't help it. You leave me breathless," he whined, sounding more like a complaint than a flirty remark. Yet his face turned red once again. He looked up at the two way mirror behind you and covered his face with both hands. "Okay, I need help," he said through his fingers.

"Keep practicing on me," you said with a smile.

"Can't we start tomorrow?"

"Nope. You need to make up for all the times I got jealous."

"You got jealous?"

You giggled as you scooped up his hand. "Of course I did. I just wish Lynette had given me the hint earlier."

*****

I hope you liked it. Please check out my other fics if you're interested. :)

#lyney x reader #lyney fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin fluff #lyney #lyney and lynette #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact scenarios #genshin lyney #genshin impact fanfics #genshin scenarios

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adventuringblind · 10 months ago

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Don't Leave Us

Lestappen x Reader

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Summary: With the mass amount of online hate and a relationship that's not public, it all gets too much.

Warnings: graphic depictions of self-harm, graphic depictions of suicide

Notes: I hope you're doing okay, Nonny! Maybe this will help you like it does me :)

side note: I am not above begging for interaction. Fill my inbox with feral driver thoughts! Interact with my posts! It feeds my praise kink and makes me giggle and kick my feet 🥰

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

It's not like the toxicity of social media is a new thing. She's always known that it could happen. She just wasn't expecting it to be so... much.

Her relationship with Max and Charles isn't out for the public. There are dangers that come with opening that up for everyone to get a glimpse of. Reporters waiting to make snide remarks. Fans that want to bash on the drivers they dislike.

Plus, she's not famous. People don't notice her. At least - they didn't until recently.

Some WAG account had managed to get photos of her with either Max or Charles. Not the three of them together. Speculative fans determined she must be playing both of them.

Not all of them, some people defend her. Those comments make her cry out of relief that at least someone isn't trying to tear her down.

She doesn't bring it up to either of the boys. They have enough on their plates as is. Stress and sickness become her new best excuses to not go out in public.

Sure, she's isolating herself and not talking to anyone. Carmen and Lily keep trying. She's just not ready to show her face.

Nothing is sacred anymore. The rumors are too much. Even avoiding all social media isn't enough. She can't even leave her house without someone trying to discreetly take her photo.

Her skin burns with attention every time she steps out the door. She can't eat knowing people are always looking at her. She can't even go to the shop to get groceries or to her mailbox.

It gets worse by the day. Soon enough, someone figures out where she lives. Knowing she has a stalker makes every ounce of security she once had vanish.

It's miserable seeing her information leaked out for everyone to see. Privacy is now a luxury of the past. It's enough to send her spiraling.

When her safety is called into question, Max and Charles bring her to Monaco. They are willing to risk it for her. Their attempt at giving her some piece of mind by staying in the same apartment only makes her thoughts darker.

She's the reason there is so much negative publicity. The sharks are circling them, just waiting for one wrong move. Is she ready to be the catalyst for her lovers' downfall?

The thought sends her stomach up her throat. The thoughts swirl around her head, paralyzing her body into a perpetual state of fear. Stuck in a luxurious Monaco penthouse. Because people being toxic and stalking her is such a horrible problem to have. She should just suck it up; pretend everything is fine.

So then, why is it so hard? Why can't she just be alright?

One week. A plan in her head and a smile plastered on her face. The boys haven't asked about it. Their concern shows in the facial expressions, but they don't push. Maybe it would be better if they did. Send her already crumbling walls to the ground.

She deep cleans on Monday. She does her best to make sure the apartment isn't in disarray, that her own things are packed away, so they won't have much to deal with. The contrasting red and blue of Max and Charles' clothes are the only things left in the closet when she's done.

Speculations start again on Tuesday. Max and Charles spend all day in some PR meeting about it. It gives her time to sort out her affairs without them hearing her. She cooks them dinner to help ease the frustrations. Their teams don't want them to come out, but they do.

Wednesday, they leave to their next destination. She doesn't leave the hotel room despite the concerns of others. Carmen and Lily come around at some point. They eat in with her and kick out the boys. It feels normal for the first time in months. She almost breaks and tells them.

Thursday is media day. She feels for both boys as they get asked invasive questions about their love life. They look stressed. She gets hugged a little tighter that night. It calms the thoughts, but it's not enough. They hurt more every day. She's just wants it to stop.

Practice on Friday goes well for both. Max and Charles are in better spirits. She drags herself out to eat with them. the boys don't care who sees. She does. The anxiety nearly suffocates her. eyes crawling over her skin. Please, make it stop.

Saturday is a wreck. The qualifying is difficult for both her partners. Their relationship status is once again coming under fire. The speculating is becoming extreme, enough for the whispering of the paddock to become deafening to her ears. She spends her time hiding away, writing her last thoughts in messy scrawl.

Sunday, they turn the weekend around. The podium has always suited them. Smiling for everyone to see and dousing each other in champagne. She smiles too, even though it hurts.

They fly back to Monaco that night. Conversation turns to going public despite team wishes. They are willing to risk it for her. She can't bring herself to say yes. They worked hard to live their dreams; she won't ruin it for them.

Monday comes around again. The notes are laying out on the table. The boys are with their friends, some kind of brunch get together.

She leaves the bathroom door unlocked.

The bath filled, her clothes still on. Her thoughts finally still. Tears streak down her face.

The water is cold.

Then it's red.

~~~~~

"I worry about leaving her alone." Charles pulls the car back into its spot.

"Well, if we brough her along it wouldn't be much of a surprise, yes?" Max checks his watch again. "Plus, what could she have done in the fifteen minutes we were gone?"

They haul the ridiculous number of snacks to the front door. They decided last week they would see if they could coax the female out of her depressive state, just for a little while. Maybe get her to confide in them. If not, then at the very least a therapist.

The distance is damn near suffocating. She's so close physically, yet so far away mentally. Always staring at the walls with a distant look in her eyes.

The apartment is eerily quiet when they step inside. The kind that Charles despises after living in a chaotic house with two brothers and three busy schedules his Maman had to keep track of.

He drops the bags and peers around the entry way. Then searches the corridors until he finds one of the bathroom doors closed.

Charles knocks on the door but receives no response. "Cheri? Are you not feeling well?"

Charles almost dives out of the way when Max comes barreling down the hallway. The Dutch tries the doorknob, heavy breathing filling the odd silence.

Charles pales at the sight revealed to him. Paralyzed that this horrific scene could even be a possibility. Is he dreaming? He has to be - there isn't any way for this to be real... right?

"Charles!-" the Monegasque is dragged from his thoughts. Real or not, Max needs his help. Scratch that - she needs his help. "- Get an ambulance!"

Charles fishes his phone out of his pocket and makes the call. Max is desperate trying to stop the bleeding from the vertical slit traveling her forearm. "Is she...?" He can't finish the thought. Heart being through his chest at the possible answer.

"Pules is there but faint." Max sounds like he's desperately trying to hold back his tears. His mind working desperately to keep her alive.

Charles must space out. He doesn't remember opening the door or watching her be carried out by the swift paramedics. The car ride doesn't register, not until they are already in the waiting room.

Max hands him her notes. The paragraphs she wrote to them. A final goodbye in messy scrawl, but the tails of her letters still curled.

"She did it for us, Charlie, because she thought she was hurting us."

They both break down in the uncomfortable waiting room chairs. Charles violently sobbing. Neither of them respond to their messages. Phones buzzing with calls that go to voice-mail.

A doctor comes calling her name. Charles is only half listening. Specifically looking for either a confirmation of death or the relief of hearing that she's okay. Max seems to be paying attention. His shoulders sag, and there is a soft look on his face when they are left to their own devices.

"She's alive, Charlie."

He erupts until tears once more.

~~~~~

Everything hurts. Her thoughts are fuzzy. There is something soft beneath her.

The white ceiling is paired with the burning smell of alcohol. A sterile environment. Meaning-

Fuck. How did it go so wrong? How had they managed to keep her alive?

The beeping on the heart monitor picks up. A sign that she's definitely alive and in a hospital.

Her attempts at moving are futile. There is too much pain and exhaustion to do so. A pulsing behind her ears drowns out the thumping of her heart.

"Rest now, amour."

It takes a single stroke of Charles' fingers on her cheek to make her entire facade shatter into nothing.

She's mumbling incoherent words. It's a string of apologies, rants of anger and embarrassment, and confusion at why they are even here with her. They are continually reassuring her. They coo into her ear how they are so glad she's alive. That she doesn't have to fight whatever battle through hell this is alone.

Recovery is difficult. They have to put her on a suicide watch, but Max and Charles somehow manage to keep her out of the psychward. Mostly because they want to be with her at all hours of the day.

They miss a singular race for her. Then drag her to the next. Part of the deal they had made was that they won't sacrifice their careers for her.

They negotiated with the teams. Managed to wriggle around their soft spots and get them to approve going public. Max and Charles want to openly defend her. No more public executions. They'er pulling her out of the shark infested waters that is the media.

It's slow. People ask about it sometimes; why Charles and Max had missed that race. None of them give an answer. They aren't obligated to.

"Why fight for me?" She asks. a year after the events.

"Because chéri, we love you enough to help you carry the burden."

"Honestly liefste, we fight for what we believe in. We believe in you and the love you have for us."

"Maybe it's selfish, but we want to share that with you. Keep you here with us to go on adventures and explore the different paths life offers."

"So don't leave us yet. You are worth every sacrifice."

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simpjaes · 3 months ago

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now that I have had the time to actually think and write out my feelings, here's what i stated earlier except worded better because every time i read my original post about the situation, it doesn't get my message across.

Despite me only having one (now deleted) work dedicated to that piece of undeserving shit, Moon Taeil, I will no longer be writing for nct, period. [ referring to ao3 and ncteez]

One reason being that as much as I enjoyed writing for NCT and as much as I adore(d) the members, I cannot realistically know who was or was not aware of what Taeil was doing. I am not saying that they were well aware and swept it under the rug, I am simply stating that as much as I hope they didn't know, I am no longer comfortable as a fan because it is unlikely that we will ever be able to do anything more than speculate. My second reason being that I have grown a lot as a person and have drifted from NCT in the past half year. The news we all came online to today was something that ultimately made me stop clinging.

Additionally, i want to remind you all that I will never judge you for continuing to support NCT, but I will judge you if you continue to support Taeil.

I sincerely hope the victims who were hurt by him are not only finding joy in his downfall, but healing. It's not easy to heal from such a thing, as so many of us have experienced it ourselves, but I do hope that seeing justice will make those wounds a little easier to handle. And if you're a fan, or biased Taeil previously, remember that you should not feel guilty or bad for loving him before this. It was his job to be lovable and to be seen in his best light. He manipulated many people but let's hope that he can no longer do that.

fuck moon taeil.

and just to add, i see people on twitter saying "i heard from somewhere blah blah blah" and "my friend said she saw taeil do this" etc. do not take these things random fans are saying and treat them as truth. we are well aware that taeil has done something awful but I want to make it very clear that with each new allegation that ends up being false, people may begin to question and downplay the whole situation. I'm talking "well this was proved false so clearly he's innocent with the other things too!" etc. DO NOT BELIEVE WHAT PEOPLE ARE SAYING IF THEY DO NOT POST SOURCES FROM LEGITAMATE PLACES. I know we are all angry and hurt, but get your information from trusted sources, not the person with a haechan pfp on twitter trying to express their anger by spreading information that could, ultimately, take awareness away from the real victims and/or make people second guess the investigation as a whole.

#simptxt

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velvette-creations · 5 months ago

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To be loved by death

Interview with the Vampire: Santiago x fem!reader

Rating: Explicit

WC: 1.5 k

Prompt: “That’s an awful lot of blood” for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Heavy on the blood play, stalking, oral (f receiving), manipulation, mind control, biting, thigh riding

Summary: You become Santiago's prey

A/n: Ben Daniels as Santiago has a hold on me. First time diving into writing for this fandom that I've loved for so long

A sense of dread crept up your spine as you took the last sip of your coffee at the quaint cafe on the corner. Your eyes darted around, but nothing suspicious lingered in your view. You placed the cup back on the saucer, the ceramic clinking together as you stood and left the money on the table. You hurried across the cobblestones, feeling like someone or something was following you. It was a feeling you couldn’t explain, but it felt like danger loomed in the distance, concealed in the shadows of night.

Your pulse pounded in your throat. Heady and unstable. The pavement slapped beneath your worn leather shoes, the pointed heels scraping against the grooves. One unsteady movement caused your downfall and sent you spilling across the ground. Your palms scraped against the concrete as the rough surface tore through your stockings and resulted in skinned knees. Tears of humiliation burned your eyes as you swallowed down the pain. You were thankful this pathway through the park was abandoned this time of night; otherwise, you would have curled into a ball of shame.

“My, my, you took quite the spill.”

You lifted your head at the sound of the voice, shaking the loose curls out of your face as you peered around, your heart racing with anticipation. It was quite odd because it sounded like the voice surrounded all sides of you, echoing through the stagnant night air. You gasped as a man appeared in front of you. Older with coiffed white hair and stunning blue eyes. Eyes that were not of this world, and something about them made you shiver. The black cape he wore surrounded him ominously as it billowed around his legs.

“What were you running from, ma chérie? Was a wolf chasing after the little lamb?”

You scooted away from him, your palms leaving a trail of blood along the cold ground, frowning as he taunted you. How dare he? He didn’t know you and had no right to be so condescending. If you were in a better mindset, you would have slapped him across the face for his brazenness.

“What’s wrong, chérie? Cat got your tongue.” A smirk crossed his face as he loomed over you. He was taunting you, and it made your blood boil.

“You are rude, monsieur,” you frowned, finally finding your voice while you slowly stood as pain surged through your body. You felt wobbly and lightheaded from the sight of your blood smeared against the concrete—a crimson gash reminding you of your folly.

“I have been told worse,” he chuckled. His demeanor shifted as he followed your gaze to the ruby blood sparkling in the dim light of the lamppost illuminating the park. “That is a lot of blood, chérie.”

“I’ll be fine. Thank you for your concern,” you murmured, pushing your stinging palms together and cursing yourself for not wearing your evening gloves.

He tutted gently, stepping forward with intricate grace, and instinctively, you wanted to run. A cold dread set over you. Had he been the one you were running from? The looming dread from the shadows, the breath on the back of your neck, the mysterious figure who had set you on edge that sent you sprinting through the park toward the safety of your apartment. This feeling had followed you for a week; perhaps now, the answer stood before you.

“Of course I care, ma chérie,” he chided, stepping closer and drawing your hands into his. His long nails reminded you of spun glass. You stood frozen, fixated on his unnatural, spectral blue eyes as he lifted your palms to his mouth. His warm pink tongue rolled from his lips as he lapped at the tiny droplets of blood that clung to your scraped flesh. A scream felt caught in your throat, yet you were paralyzed. Pointed fangs extended from his mouth, dragging across your wounded flesh and splitting it wider. He reminded you of a cat enjoying their dish of cream.

“Please,” you whimpered, voice faint and cracked.

“The sweet essence of fresh youth,” he sighed happily, your blood splashed around his mouth, “You are going to be quite the treat, ma chérie.”

You trembled like a lamb caught in the wolf’s jowls.

You waited in your apartment every evening at the same time. Minutes, hours, days, weeks, and months progressed and still, he kept the same schedule. The night ticked away, and the city of Paris was still alive as people enjoyed the treasures offered in the seclusion of darkness. As if on cue, you rose onto your bare feet and padded onto your balcony. The gentle breeze wafted through your loose hair as the hem of your black dress tickled your calves. You were mesmerized every night as he floated above the dimly lit streets and toward your balcony. Santiago. You were his dark bride, offering your flesh and blood to satiate his voracious appetite.

You gazed up as his hand cupped your chin and pondered how easily those long glass nails could puncture your skin. His lips were cold as ice as they pressed against yours. Warmth spread through you as blood bubbled to the surface, spilling down the corners of your mouth as he laid the first mark of the evening. Wordlessly, he took your hand, guiding you into the privacy of your apartment as the doors closed behind you. You moved as if under a laden spell as your fingers unbuttoned your dress, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you in silky undergarments. Ones you had scrimped and saved for, savoring the delicate fabric as it slipped through your fingers.

Santiago stepped closer, using his claws to tear them to shreds until you stood naked before him. Not a single tear dribbled from your eyes at the loss of the treasured garments. You moved in a daze, slowly dancing in place to an invisible tune as he removed his cape, leaving him in dark trousers, a white undershirt, and suspenders. His piercing blue eyes remained fixed on you as you continued your silent dance before he pulled a chair into the center of the room. You straddled his thigh before skimming your hands over his muscled arms, marveling at how an older man kept in such shape. You supposed there were many mysteries about him that you would never uncover.

His mouth grazed over your neck, leaving the flesh pure and unmarked until he reached one of your breasts. His tongue rolled over your nipple until it stiffened under his touch. The sharp pain made you gasp and rock against his thigh as your blood oozed into his welcoming mouth. It was intoxicating; the pain was quickly replaced by euphoria. Lust unraveled through your body as Santiago continued to claim your flesh, savoring each drop of warm, delicious blood. Your arms circled his neck, one palm pressing against the back of his head to hold him closer.

Moving gracefully and quickly, he lifted you into his arms and placed you on the bed. He kissed his way down your belly, leaving a light trail of your blood over your quivering flesh until he lay between your splayed thighs. Pain and pleasure blurred together as he feasted on your thighs while his tongue claimed your slick cunt. Blood and arousal intermixed and clung to your flushed skin as your fingers buried in his white hair. The sweet release rolled through your body like waves crashing through the ocean. You knew he savored the blood more.

“Sleep, ma chérie. My sweet little lamb. I will return to you tomorrow night,” he whispered as his fingers gently slipped against the tender skin of your eyelids and closed them. A deep slumber grasped your body, pulling you under the swirling darkness of dreams.

Santiago tucked the blanket around your body, a few sparkling, wet, ruby droplets clinging to your glowing skin as the rest dried into a vexing crust. The next day, you would indulge in a hot bath and scrub yourself clean. He lingered for a moment, watching your chest heave with your shallow breaths, hot blood pumping through your veins—an intoxicating ichor that called to him. How selfish it would be to drain you and deny him such a treat.

“What win I, if I gain the thing I seek? A dream, a breath, a froth of fleeting joy. Who buys a minute's mirth to wail a week?” The words rolled from his tongue, ever the skilled orator and performing, falling onto deaf ears before he disappeared into the black night. You were left to your dreams.

You dreamt of your malcontent Santiago, giving your being over to him as his fangs and claws ripped apart your flesh. Consuming you until you were nothing as blood dripped from him. The wolf feasted upon the lamb. To be loved by death. To be wrapped in it’s tender embrace. What divine bliss.

The next evening, Santiago did not arrive at your door, but instead, a courier who delivered a card and a wrapped box. Nestled inside the box, between layers of white tissue paper, lay a set of silky undergarments to replace the ones ruined the previous night. Inside the white envelope was an invitation to the Théâtre des Vampires on an evening of your choosing.

Join me, ma chérie. Perhaps you will welcome the dark gift.

Your thumb traced over the elegant cursive of his signature. Answers awaited you. Time to let death embrace you.

#fic: iwtv #sweetspicyhc #iwtv fanfiction #iwtv santiago #santiago x reader #interview with the vampire fanfic #santiago iwtv #santiago

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miss-musings · 6 months ago

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It’s so funny how in The Bad Batch 3.01 “Confined,” Crosshair and Batcher are parallel characters:

• Omega visits both of them regularly. While they are confined, she has some amount of freedom within Tantiss.

• Both are initially closed off/withdrawn and antagonistic toward her.

• But, through continual positive interactions with Omega, they grow attached to her. (You could say she domesticated BOTH of them … as others joked about here! 😂)

• Both of them are hurt — Batcher, physically and Crosshair, emotionally/physically — and Omega helps them both to heal.

• Both of their lives are threatened because of Omega’s actions. Batcher is slated for termination after Omega domesticates her; and Hemlock threatens to kill Crosshair if Omega’s misbehavior continues.

• Omega eventually frees both of them, and they both prove crucial in their collective escape in Episode 3.03. (Note: all three of them escape Tantiss the same way — via Batcher’s kennel chute.)

• Both Batcher and Crosshair are always ready to Square Up ™️ anytime someone threatens Omega.

• “S/he deserves a chance.”

• Hemlock only ever uses their designations — CT-9904 and LH-201. Omega only ever uses their names.

• The irony of Hemlock saying “actions always have consequences — sometimes not in the ways we imagine”… He literally arms Omega with two individuals who help in her first escape, and pairs her with Emerie who helps with the second escape. And later, Crosshair and Omega team up with Hunter to kill Hemlock. None of this would’ve happened if Hemlock had supervised Omega more closely, or not given her as many freedoms during her initial stay.

• Same thing with “Emotion and sentiment have no place within these walls. You would do well to remember that” … considering it’s the Bad Batch’s love for each other that causes Hemlock’s downfall.

• Omega refuses point-blank to leave either of them behind throughout S3. “I wasn’t going to leave without you.” / “I’m not abandoning her.”

• Also, Batcher and Crosshair save Hunter together in 3.05. 😂

• Batcher almost exclusively follows Crosshair in 3.05. But, after he reconciles with Hunter and Wrecker in that episode, Batcher seems more comfortable hanging out with Hunter and Wrecker too. Like, she fully integrates into the family when Crosshair does.

• UPDATE: Hemlock’s line of “And your domestication of LH-201 only made her vulnerable” also applies to Crosshair, as I talk about more in my Allegorical Analysis of 3.05 “The Return.” Despite his attempts to push her away, Omega makes Crosshair feel emotionally vulnerable for the first time in ages. But, just as Omega ultimately protected Batcher *by* domesticating her, so too does Omega protect Crosshair emotionally through the bond they form on Tantiss. As I speculated about in my CrossDad Episodes Ranking, seeing Omega regularly on Tantiss is probably a big reason — maybe the primary or only reason — why Hemlock’s CX conditioning didn’t work on Crosshair. Yes, Omega made both characters “vulnerable” in a way they weren’t before, but she also ultimately saved their lives by doing so.

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alloftheimagines · 2 years ago

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roy kent | just friends

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST | KO-FI

words: 3k

warnings: strong language because it's roy fucking kent, mentions of alcohol but not intoxication, bad date experiences with rude and not nice people, including comments on reader's body.

single parent!reader (they/them, bi/pan) x uncle roy in which he is your best friend and go-to babysitter when you have an awful date that ends early. protectiveness, hurt/comfort, and a heated confession ensues.

prompt: Roy Kent x Reader, Friends to lovers?

You’ve never been more relieved to be home, even as the sound of screaming children drifts from your house. You press your forehead against the cool door, taking in a deep breath. “Past their bedtime. Again,” you mutter, but your best friend allowing your daughter to have a late night with his niece, Phoebe, is the least of your worries after what you just experienced.

Horror. Pure horror.

“Oi!” you hear the deep, gritty voice of Roy Kent echoing down your hallway. “Come back ‘ere and do my other hand! Can’t be walking around with only one set of fucking nails painted!”

Giggles follow, and you smile despite yourself. They give you the energy to open the door finally, and you step in to find your hallway lit brightly, Phoebe flying out of the kitchen with chocolate smeared across her face and bright blue nail polish in her hand.

“Don’t be getting that on my carpet!” you warn, alerting everyone to your presence.

Your daughter, Maisie, skips out next, waving. “We’re painting Uncle Roy’s nails!”

“Lucky Roy!” She’d been calling him “uncle” for the past year, though neither of you is related to the footballer-turned-manager. Maisie picked it up from Phoebe, and Roy hadn’t seemed to mind, since you’re practically best friends anyway. You’re constantly trying to tire the kids out with play dates at one another’s house, or else exchanging babysitting duties so one of you can have a free night. Of course, Roy isn’t a single parent like you, but he watches Phoebe enough that you’ve formed a bond over the years, one that stemmed from your shared love of your chaotic children.

That bond has blossomed into something much more than you bargained for, though. After all, he is Roy fucking Kent, and his rough exterior matched with his hidden, softer side was always going to be your downfall. But since he’s been in and out of relationships and never made a move, you’ve let the small crush lie, trying to distract yourself with dates.

Terrible, terrible dates.

Like the one you had tonight.

“You’re back early.” Roy emerges last, leaning against the doorframe as he blows on his wet-varnished nails. “It wasn’t the one who speaks like someone’s pressed fast-forward on the TV remote again, was it? I told you they’re a loser.”

“No. No, it was someone far, far worse than Fast-forward Frank.” You sigh and try to ignore the flickering in your chest, because gruff footballer Roy Kent is currently being pampered by two ten-year-olds and seems to be enjoying every minute.

“Fuck,” he deadpans. “I’ll grab the wine.” He wanders back into the kitchen.

You huff again, kicking your shoes off your aching feet and heading into the living room, where the girls are painting one another’s nails. It was at least nice to snuggle up on your couch and watch, legs curled under you. They’re arguing, of course, but you’re good at tuning that out most of the time.

“You look very nice, Y/N,” Phoebe compliments. “Are you dressed up for my Uncle Roy?”

“No.” Even so, your cheeks flush, and you can’t help but hope he noticed your appearance before you left earlier. In fact, you’d been wondering all through dinner why he’d pursed his lips, jaw ticking, as he’d looked you up and down with shiny, dark eyes. It hadn’t exactly been the look of a man who lusted after you. More the disapproving stare of a father about to tell his child to go and change. “I went on a date.”

“What’s a date?” Maisie asks.

“14th of April,” Phoebe answers confidently. You smirk, glad when they return to their own little world.

“Right girls,” Roy says as he comes in. “Go and play upstairs, now. We’re talking about adult stuff now.”

“And you should be in bed,” you remind, because you suppose that one of you has to be the responsible parent, and it certainly isn’t him.

The kids groan but trudge out of the room, leaving you in peace. Somehow, that’s even worse. You don’t really know why; you’ve had lots of awful dating experiences, but tonight, you’re just… exhausted. You don’t want to have to keep searching for something that most people find without a problem. You don’t want to meet new people who you don’t connect with, don’t even really like, just because the alternative is sitting at home with only a child for company, or sometimes Roy.

Roy places the wine on the coffee table and raises his brow. “Go on then. Tell me what was wrong with this one.”

“It’d be quicker to tell you what’s right. They started by telling me to put a blanket under me in their car so I wouldn’t scuff their leather seats. And then when I told them I had a kid, they looked me up and down and said ‘ah, yeah, I can tell. Have you looked into cosmetic surgery?’” You wrinkle your nose as Roy scoffs.

“You’re joking!”

“I wish I was joking.” You rest your head against the couch cushion, closing your tired eyes. “They tried to order a salad for me after that. I told them fuck off, I’m having the garlic bread. They didn’t like that.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. Do you have their address?” Roy is already scrambling to get up, and you aren’t sure if he’s joking or not.

You roll your eyes and tug him back down. “Stop it.”

“I’m not fucking joking. Where does this wanker live?”

Okay, you realise. Not joking. His jaw is clenched, brows even more furrowed than usual. You’ve seen him angry before, but never… seething. It rolls off him until you yank him down a second time.

“I don’t need you to beat them up. I need you to drink wine and tell me I’ll find the right person one day.” You pout as you pick up your wine glass, only half-joking.

His nostrils flare, but he settles down. “You will find the right person,” he reassures. “People are just dicks. You deserve better than all that shit.”

“I wonder sometimes,” you admit. “Nobody wants a single parent. I’m a package deal, and… well, there’s a reason I’m still single after all this time.”

“Oi.” He nudges you, draping his arm around the back of your couch so you smell his aftershave. You turn into the warmth, the comfort, though there is so much space between you still. More than you’d like. In another life, he might have been the one you were looking for. In another life, you weren’t searching for a good, healthy, passionate love, because you’d found it long ago, in the schoolyard where you met.

But you’re in this life, you remind yourself, and you’re a far cry from the people Roy has dated before. It’s clear you’re just friends. You always will be.

You lift your brows, waiting for whatever lecture he’s about to give you.

His eyes pierce yours. “Don’t even bother going there. You and Maisie deserve the fucking world, and fuck anyone who isn’t going to give it to you.”

The words pierce your heart, and something damp and warm trickles from the corner of your eye. A tear, you realise too late.

Roy sighs, the rough pad of his thumb brushing it away. You’re not surprised by his gentle touch, though most people might be. You know him too well to think him anything other than tender-hearted and caring to his core.

“Don’t get fuckin’ upset over that prick. Please, sweetheart.”

“No. I’m not.” You sniff, feeling pathetic. “I’m just overwhelmed. Tired. That’s all.”

His touch drifts to your hair, brushing through the strands and tucking a few behind your ear as your eyes flutter shut again. You could stay like this for a long time. For forever. He has no idea just how much you need him, how much better things feel when he’s around. It would just make sense, you and him — if you took away his fame, at least. You love one another’s kids. You’d become family over the years. You trust him with every fibre of your being as the one steadfast person you can count on.

“Y’know, you’re the person I’d call in the middle of the night if I needed to bury a body. Or if I thought there was a ghost in my house or something,” you admit.

His face crumples. “Ey?”

“Just…” You lean into him, burying your cheek against his chest. “You’re the only person who hasn’t let me down or left me.”

His movements are stiff as he wraps his arms around you, but he melts into you quickly, holding you to him until you’re not sure where you end and he begins. You hear his heart echoing in your ear. Feel the prickly bristle of his beard against your skin. It’s the safest you ever get to feel, and it’s rare you allow yourself to be so vulnerable. But tonight, you can’t find a reason to keep pretending.

“I never would,” he whispers. “If it was me, if you gave me a chance at a family like yours… I wouldn’t fucking waste it. They’re idiots, all of them. You and Maisie are precious. You deserve the best. Don’t stop until you find it.”

You pull away, pulse racing. It’s never felt right to address your feelings before, and perhaps tomorrow you’ll regret it. Maybe you’ll lose him, even, but you believe him when he says he isn’t going anywhere, and you have to know…

“What if I already have?”

His frown lasts for minutes, hours, as he looks down at you. And then you see it dawn on him, and you don’t want to hear how this story ends. You don’t want to be rejected twice in one night. You stumble up. “Forget I said that. I had a couple of drinks at the restaurant, and I’m all… loopy. I’m going to get some snacks. Are you hungry?” The drinks were non-alcoholic, but he doesn't need to know that.

“No,” Roy says.

It’s all he gives you. The message has been delivered loud and clear. He doesn’t want you. Tears sting your eyes as you leave the living room, heading into the kitchen. You catch your reflection in the window and almost break down entirely. You’re an idiot, and you’ve gone and embarrassed yourself in front of the one person you can be yourself around.

You grab a tissue, drying your tears, but fresh ones fall all the same.

And then your back prickles and you know he’s followed you.

“Oi,” he breathes gently, tilting your chin up as he reaches you. “What are you getting upset for?”

“I’m not,” you lie pathetically, looking anywhere but at him. “You can head off if you want. I can watch the girls tonight and drop Phoebe off—”

“Can we just rewind a minute? Do you… Do you think that you and me…?”

“No! God, no. No. No, no, no.”

“Oh.” He nods, leaning back on his heels. "So no then?"

“No!”

“All right, I fucking get it.” He lifts his hands as though they might wipe it all away. “I just thought that’s what you were saying before, on the couch. I thought…”

“You should stop thinking, Roy.” You offer him a flustered smile, your face burning. “Honestly, let’s just forget about it.”

“Right. Fine.” More silence. And then: “What if I don’t want to?”

“Don’t want to what?”

He shrugs. “Forget about it. What if… we’ve both already found the right people?”

Your body is electricity now, and you can barely breathe. “What… do you mean?”

He scratches his stubble, lowering his gaze. “Well, I could take you on a date. I’d be much better at it than the losers you’ve been seeing.”

You’re caught off-guard, hands trembling, “Is that what you’d like?”

“Well, I did. I mean, I’ve wanted to. I just… you’ve already said no. Several times. So I suppose I got my answer, and that’s that.”

“Well, I didn’t think you saw me that way. You’ve never asked before. Is this, like, a pity thing?”

“Fuck no!” he blurts too quickly. “I mean, no. 'Course not. And you’ve never mentioned it before either, by the way. You’re always going on all these fucking dates. When was I supposed to ask? Between Fast-forward Frank and that fucking woman obsessed with her pet ferret?”

You blink, puzzled. “I mean… if you asked, I wouldn’t have gone on dates with Ferret Fiona.”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Now she fucking tells me.”

You don’t like the implication that you’ve been the one holding him back. “Well, it’s not like you’ve ever tried, is it? I mean, I’ve been single for years and you’ve never made a move, even before all this online dating palaver! And you’re not exactly easy to read, by the way. You’re always frowning, even when I’m trying to bloody well impress you! What was I supposed to think? That you fancy me when you always look like this?” You moulded your expression into a big, dramatic, brooding glower and hope it encapsulates everything that is Roy.

He crosses his arms over his chest, looking angry now. Proving your point. “Oi! I don’t do that with my lips,” he points out. “And you’re always talking about how badly you want to find someone when I’m sitting right fucking here! That’s mixed signals, mate.”

“It was me hinting! Hoping!” you shout. “I was just waiting for a sign, or something, but you never treated me like anything more than a friend!”

“Because I didn’t want to be like that creepy Allen bloke you dated last year! He was your friend too, if I recall!”

You sigh, realising the conversation is going in circles. You look at him. He looks at you. Both of you are breathless, wild-eyed, rosy-cheeked, and you know you’ll always remember the way he looks, standing in your kitchen, infuriated and perhaps more open than ever before, because you see it now; that dark look in his eyes was never a guard, never a sign of being just friends. It was want, need.

It was everything you already feel.

“Why are you two arguing?” a meek voice interrupts. You both look to the door to find the girls hovering in the hallway.

“We’re not arguing,” you assure quickly.

“It’s adult stuff,” says Roy at the same time.

“We don’t like it when you argue,” Maisie says. “Especially when you’re supposed to get married.”

“What?” you question sharply, turning red all over again.

Phoebe nods as though corroborating Maisie’s story. “We’ve planned it all. It will be next June at McDonald’s, and Uncle Roy will bring you flowers, and we’ll all have milkshakes afterwards.”

You put your head in your hands, peeking through your fingers and surprised to find that Roy is smirking. “Sounds like a shit wedding, Pheebs. Where’ve you got this idea from?” he says.

“Well, Mum said you two will end up together because you clearly fancy Y/N and it is invevitable.”

A laugh bubbles in your own throat at her attempt to say inevitable, though you’re still too stunned to speak.

“See?” Roy whispers. “Everyone else knew. It's fucking invevitable.”

You shiver, lowering your hands to meet his gaze properly. It’s soft and intent, nothing like the anger of a moment ago.

“All right, girls,” you say. “Get your pyjamas on. We’ll be up to say nanight in a minute.”

You usher them away, closing the door to when you hear their footsteps on the stairs. You’ve never been more aware of his presence, the fact it’s just the two of you — you don’t even know who you are without the kids jumping about, sticking their noses in.

“Have I fucked it all up?” he asks finally.

“No. Have I?”

He shakes his head.

“Then what now?” you question. “What does this… mean?”

“Well…” He leans against the counter, fidgety as he smiles again. “I’ll take you on a decent fucking date for starters. No kids, and no more of whatever the fuck this argument was.”

The thought leaves you feeling cracked and seeping with excitement, though you try to play it cool. “Okay. That’s a good plan.”

“Right. Good. Then… are you free Friday night?”

You inch closer to him, timid suddenly. “I don’t know. My usual babysitter is busy.”

He rolls his eyes and tugs you toward him so that your torsos collide, and then his fingers curl around the nape of your neck and you can think of nothing but the way his lips look, and what it must feel like, having them between your thighs, beard grazing your skin.

“You’re an idiot,” he rasps.

“Takes one to know one.” You lick your lips, then his mouth his on yours, rough and ready and desperate. You let him in, let his tongue explore your mouth. You know you shouldn’t. The girls might come back in, might already be listening, but you’ve wanted this for so long.

You both have.

You’re breathless when he stops, his hands lingering just above your belly as he bites down on a groan. “If I don’t stop now, there’ll be trouble.”

You’re not willing to let go, though, and you rest your hands on his chest as you kiss his jaw. “And?”

“And I’ve waited a long fucking time to do this properly. Give you the care,” he kisses your nose, “you deserve. Sweep you,” another kiss, this time at the outer corner of your eye, “off your fucking feet. So I’m going to.” He steps away. “Friday. Seven. Find a new babysitter, and make sure they’re free all night.”

With that, he steps away, leaving you wanting more.

“Uncle Royyyyy!” Phoebe is calling. “Will you read us a story?”

He grins, kisses your forehead, and then is gone. You’re not sure your knees will hold you up if you follow, but you listen to him talking to the girls, making them laugh, and you have never felt more right, more complete.

You’re a fool for thinking anyone else could be perfect for you when the man you love has been here all along.

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propheticclown · 24 days ago

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Just finished playing Mouthwashing and I just wanna leave my character opinions in this post. OBVIOUS SPOILER WARNING!!! Curly: Lovely character. I adore his characterization of being unable to do anything until it's too late. He stood on the sidelines for too long and was only given the option the stay on the sidelines for the rest of his life. That moment when he goes to confront Jimmy and the screen starts lightly shaking and starts flashing the "Kills 99.9%" to signify his utter rage and contempt for Jimmy at that point? Adore it. I don't think he's as horrible as people say. He had no malicious intent, but that ironically caused his downfall. He was too passive and that led to the failure of the crew and became a victim to Jimmy's twisted delusions. Swansea: MY GLORIOUS KING!!! I love his whole roundabout character. He's so three-dimensional. I adore him for accepting his flaws and genuinely being able to "Take Responsibility". His relationship with Daisuke, being the hardened man scorned by the world and wanting to make sure Daisuke didn't end up like him was so beautiful. The fact that he doesn't get mad at Daisuke for crawling through the vent and getting hurt because he knew he just wanted to help made me tear up. He's so incredible. Plus he can canonically throw it back, which is always a plus.

Daisuke: What an amazingly tragic character. A kid who feels useless and wants to help in any way he can, even if that means putting himself in harm's way. I love how he attempts to remain positive and cares about the other crew members. Even in his one moment of grief where he discusses his fear of disappointing others, it's never about himself. In his couple last scenes, he even talks about his mom and hopes she won't feel guilty. It's incredible. Anya: Oh, where do I even begin with Anya? I love her. Her whole character is tragic, but those profound moments where she's with Curly, where she's comfortable and we get to see her true self come out, it's so beautiful. She jokes around, gets intense about board games, and is even a bit energetic and passionate about nursing, but most of all, she's just a sweet person. She's incredibly skilled at keeping Curly alive after his incident. She keeps everything calm while Jimmy is away. Her grief and response to Jimmy's actions towards her are sad and I will absolutely admit that I cried after I found out she died and had to step away for a bit because she just was such a genuinely beautiful person. I wish we got to see more of her and I really wish we get to see more of her in the future. Easily my favorite character. I love her so much AAUGH!!! The fact that her and Curly's ID cards are always covered by Jimmy's in that ID card segment is so sad. I could make a whole post on Anya. I love Anya. 11/10. Need more Anya. Jimmy: Wonderfully written. I have never hated a person, let alone a fictional person, more in my life that when this fucker was on my screen. A horrible person. A genuinely irredeemable asshole who does nothing but bring the crew down with him. As much as I would adore making a whole rant post about him, it's 2:00 AM as of writing this and I wanna sleep. So basically; Fuck Jambalaya or whatever his name is.

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vampiretendencies · 2 years ago

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sfw alphabet — jj maybank

warning; fluff, angst, maybe suggestive, mentions of jj’s dad, mentions of pregnancy pairings; jj maybank x fem!reader authors note; posting old piece from my drafts, hope you’re all well and have full bellies <3 cred to owner of the gif and the sfw prompts (@/afghrodite )

A = FFECTION (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection? do they enjoy pda?)

He wants any and everything that you will give him. No one can ever change my mind that his first love language is physical touch. There is never a moment where his fingertips are not lingering on your skin. All the time, however, whenever.

Any form of affection will do for JJ, as long as he knows you’re present and that you’re there for him to hold and hang onto whenever he needs.

He longs to kiss the small skin behind your ear, paint your neck in kisses, and every other crevice that he can possibly reach.

He wants to breathe in your air, feel you in his lungs.

To get beneath your skin.

And he absolutely shows PDA, whether it be in the middle of grocery store he’s going to passionately love on you in front of everyone.

“J, there’s people staring!”

He would pull you flush into him, whilst you inspected an apple in the produce isle to see if it was the one you wanted. Such a craving ache to feel your skin against his.

“Don’t give a fuck, need you now, baby.”

The apple would bounce on the tiled floor, and he would leave you speechless by placing a slow and saccharine kiss to your lips. Molding perfectly, just how he liked and he would never get enough of that.

B = EAUTY (what is their favorite part of their partner. body part, trait, anything?)

Your hands. He absolutely loves how small your hands would be compared to his. How needy they look when they graze his frame, how intricately they fit into his much larger ones, and because they’re your hands they belong to you. And anything that’s traceable of you, he adores.

Both hands palm down on the bathroom counter.

“Love those lil’ things.”

He crossed his pinky over yours, so you’d get a hunch as to what he was referring to.

‘My hands?”

“Course’ baby. In every way.”

C = OMFORT (how do they comfort their partner? ex. after a panic attack or bad dream?)

It’s practically a given that he would never want you to be in harms way. He’s going to be there to walk you through every step of coming down from the fear, wallowing in the fact that he’d simply hurt the way his lover hurt.

So, an empath but only for you. He doesn’t give many people the pleasure of seeing that side of him.

If a panic attack were to ammense;

He’d pull you gently onto his lap and whisper the sweetest things he could muster, and that the panic wouldn’t be permanent.

“S’okay m’right here, baby.”

“Breathe with me …”

“Gonna’ get through this okay?”

D = EVOTED (how devoted are they in a relationship?)

The relationship is his most prized possession, and the only thing he’s held that close to his heart in years. He’s fully all in and wouldn’t want it any other way. There isn’t a doubt in his mind that you are his person, and he wants that for as long as humanly possible.

He gives you his full devotion, no one has his attention like you.

He’d definitely be one to say “If you’re tired of me, then take a nap, baby.”

E = NDING (if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

It would definitely have to be something tragic enough, like if cheating was involved.

But he would never fathom breaking up with you.

Because, living a life without you is not a life he could envision living.

If he absolutely had to, if he was at his wits end— he’d more than likely, text you or have one of the Pogues do it for him.

As we have established, he hates confrontation and will avoid expressing his feelings to people for fear of himself. All JJ has known is how to survive, and protect himself and the cause of the relationship ending would be his ultimate downfall.

He wouldn’t be able to cope, so having someone do his dirty work is the simplest route he could go.

F = UTURE (what is their ideal future with an s/o? marriage? how would they be domesticly?)

Try as he might, JJ has sort of always been envious with the idea of marriage. Despite all odds though, he would see himself settling down with you. He wants what he never got in life— desiring to allow you to know his heart and give himself free will to wake up next to you for the rest of his years.

“I couldn’t picture getting married before I met you.”

“How come?”

He’d twist the ends of your hair around his finger, stuck in a trance.

“Never felt this loved before.”

G = ENTLE (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

He treats you like an ethereal princess, you are his little baby.

Physically— when he touches you every movement is more delicate than the last, frightened that even if he breathes wrong he’ll break you. Lingering around with touches that are sensational.

“Gotta’ be gentle with my baby, alright?”

“You always are, J.”

Emotionally— he tries his upmost to be positive that he won’t damage or corrupt you. He has the worse time expressing his own emotions so it would be twice as horrifying for him to witness yours falling apart and not know what to do. But he’s fragile with you emotionally, no trace of tears should ever be left on your face in his sight.

“Wouldn’t ever fuck with your head like that.”

He was referring to the couple going at eachothers throat on the TV.

“Hope not.”

“Never pretty girl.”

H = UGS (do they like hugs? how often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

This shouldn’t even be a question. He longs for hugs, any formation of his body against yours, he’s all over that.

He does every millisecond of the day without fail.

Brushing your teeth, calls for a hug from behind every morning.

The sensation of you against him, made him feel like he had all the power in the world. It’s freeing, and it always feels like the first time with his heart thumping every which way.

Do not ever deny him a hug, because he will pout like a small child all day.

“Why the fuck are you always all over her?” Kie grumbled, eyes rolling just a tad.

“Can’t get enough of her Kie, what can I say?”

I = NTUNE (how intune are they with their s/o's emotions? can they read their s/o well?)

He can read you like a book, like the back of his hand. It’s like he can sense it everywhere throughout his being. Just because he doesn’t know how to handle all emotions, doesn’t mean he can’t immediately sense when somethings wrong with his baby.

He proceeds to notice the glint in your eye.

“Who pissed you off now?”

“Just been a rough day.”

“Let me help you baby.”

J = EALOUSY (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they’re jealous?)

He’s going to fucking maul someone that does a double take in your direction. Pummel them, knock their brains from their skulls, whatever it takes. However, it does take a lot for another's gaze to get under JJ's skin; knowing full-well that he can fight and that what you and him have is unbreakable. But, the main thing JJ does when he's jealous is seat you in his lap or pull you closer into him if you aren't already; or give you endless kisses to make others envy the shared love he has with his girlfriend.

"Gonna' let them know you're mine okay pretty baby?"

"Let ‘em know, J."

K = ISSES (good kisser? where do they like to kiss you? where do they like to be kissed?)

100% guaranteed that JJ is an undeniably impeccable kisser. He’s had much experience before you, with flings and hookups. But when he found that your lips fit more accurate with his than anyone else’s, he was sold.

His favorite places to kiss you are the most untouched places, the places that don’t get enough recognition. He dares to show them more attention. So the inside of your wrist, the nape of your neck, the small of your back— something so intimate about the many crevices. He’d pay them special attention each and every time.

JJ likes to be kissed anywhere on his face, but mainly his lips because he felt your love that you have for him through the gesture. He was obsessed with the way the pairs of mouths would glide together, and fall apart— ravishing in every second of it.

And you never went unkissed. Therefore, don’t forget his kisses or he’s falling apart.

“Where’s my ‘see you later’ kiss?”

“You didn’t give me a chance to-“

He envelopes your lips with his, before you can continue speaking.

“Yeah that’s what I thought.”

L = LOVE LANGUAGE (what is their love language? gift giving? quality time?)

As it has already been mentioned. His love language is physical touch, he always wants to be recognized by you with loving and touching and being full of you— missing you in his bones. Though his second love language, is quality time. Because if in some dire circumstance that he wouldn’t be able to touch you at least he’ll know you’re with him— sulking in every ounce of the infatuation the lovers shared. He appreciated you being in his presence, and just creating moments and memories together— living life.

“Found this recipe for us to try tonight baby … s’got all the stuff you like in it.”

Nuzzling in a way for quality time, not a second more spent away from you.

“Sounds perfect J.”

M = MEMORIES (what are their favorite memories with their s/o or family?)

By far, his favorite memory is when he got you high for the first time and your were talking out of your ass. You were saying so much off the wall shit, JJ swore the muscles of his stomach never hurt more from laughing so vigorously. He always comes back to that memory because it encompasses the relationship so well, and he’d always want to relive it.

“How do you think medicine just knows what part of you is hurting?”

He’d sigh into your neck, placing a small peck there before laughing again. “Don’t know baby, m’not a doctor.”

“Can you be my doctor? You’d be such a hot doctor!”

“Want me to fix you all up pretty girl?”

“Mhm, make me all better.”

N = ICKNAMES (what do they call their partner?)

JJ is a nickname type of guy okay! He loves showering you with nicknames. His all time favorite though was baby, because you were undoubtedly his little baby. He treats you like one, he aches for the way it slips of his tongue and he knows you’ll come running. Pretty girl is his second favorite, because you were so alluring in his eyes that you were declared the prettiest woman in OBX. And the girl stems from, you simply being his girl and no one else’s.

He uses them any and every chance he gets, hell at this point does he even know your real name?

You tended to go for J, because it was something no one else called him. It was your own, like he was your own. And you could keep it that way, the single J in JJ was reserved for you, and only you. Baby was thrown in there too.

Several instances he’d require a nickname;

“Baby will you turn off the alarm.”

“Gonna go to JB’s for some beers, pretty girl.”

“You don’t need a chair, my lap is your own personal chair baby.”

O = PEN (when would they start revealing things about themselves? do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He is not necessarily closed off, but after having no role model in life to teach him how to express his emotions he tended to sit with them until he could fully process them enough to tell you. When he is ready he’ll come to you, like a sad puppy ready to vent then. Like the first time he told you I love you, he’d known for about 3 months. But he couldn’t find the correct way to say it, either that or he’d back out.

“Don’t know’ s’just when m’around you my heart does this thing … where it’s gonna fly straight out of my chest and I just can’t control it.”

“Is it love … maybe?”

“Always have I guess, because that feeling hasn’t went away. It’s worsened baby.”

P = ATIENCE (how easily angered are they?)

When it comes to patience, JJ has the utmost amount for you, it could go on for multitudes. He was wrapped around your finger, always had a hard time telling you no, and vice versa. It’s also because JJ has walked on egg shells his entire life, constantly getting attacked and belittled by his father— so any given circumstance he has patience to avoid a sour outcome. He knew bumping heads was bound to happen but he always ran away from it. His patience is key, and that’s what keeps JJ centered.

You’d asked him nearly a thousand times if the shirt you were wearing looked fine, and he’s just as amused as he was the first time. Patience not wavering one bit.

Why not make it a thousand and one?

“J, are you sure this shirt doesn’t make me look slouchy?”

“Prettiest slouch I’ve ever seen.”

He was toying with you, picking fun only to receive a glare in turn.

“JJ!”

“Okay, okay … you look fuckin’ phenomenal baby.”

Q = UALITY TIME (how would they spend time with a partner? what are dates like?)

If he’s not working he’s with you, the Pogues even teased him about soaking in all his time with you. But he wouldn’t have it any other way, he is always coming up with little schemes and plans as to how to spend essential time together— something worth remembering.

Unable to keep his hands off of you, Romantic, everlasting and with a twist from JJ.

His ideal date though is on the beach, feet gently getting washed by water as the two of you are sat on a picnic blanket. Drinking beers, smoking weed, a little food here and there. His dates are not well thought out at first, as even though it’s supposed to be a surprise he still asks for you help on little things. Merely flattered by even the gesture, the effort mattered most.

“I wanna stay here with you for a lifetime .. gonna’ love you and never leave, baby.”

“We can’t stay here forever though, the sand is gonna’ have imprints of our asses.”

R = ANDOM HEADCANON

You helped him start journaling, he was iffy at first because though he has patience for you he doesn’t have the patience to write multiple sentences down about how he felt.

So you convinced him to take it one sentence at a time, that it would help him cope even just a little bit with the scarring hurt and pain he’s dealt with in his life.

And you persuaded him.

Something to give him routine, and to subsist for a second.

“So glad you introduced this to me baby, my heart doesn’t feel so heavy.”

You’d kiss his temple gently, and his eyes closed at the comfort.

“Anything to help, J”

S = ECURITY (how protective are they?)

JJ will walks to the ends of this earth to be positive you are safe. Whether that be from Kooks, or from someone that tried to hold the door open for you knowing full well you have a boyfriend beside you. He’d be ranked in overprotective, but in the best way possible and for all the right reasons. He’s overpowering with it when need be. You found it attractive simply because of that. But he’s not toxic, or nasty. He’s just JJ.

“So you don’t care how long I’m gone for?”

“Course’ baby, just let me know that you’ve gotten there safe.”

T = TINY ONES (how do they feel about kids? how would they act with kids?)

If it is a teen pregnancy, JJ is hesitant at first because he can’t even take care of himself led alone an actual real life child. But, if it happens he can’t control it, he took part in making it so he will fully own up to that baby. He will take care of it with his life.

Later in life, if you were to get pregnant JJ would absolutely be captivated by it. JJ always wanted kids that he’d be able to give everything to that he didn’t have as a child. A mother that’s present, a dad that loves them unconditionally, and childhood that will be memorable.

He just always envisioned having children somewhere down the line, maybe a dog or two, and his sweet girl.

“Gonna’ have so many babies with you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, gonna give them all to you.”

U = UPSET (how do they act after a fight? Would they be the first to apologize?)

He is like a lost dog, he doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself. And he’s going to fall apart, because everything in his life feels like it’s coming to an end. So every fight silence would fall over the two of you, he’d assume you were thinking about leaving him. Little did he know you just wanted to pluck his forehead for annoying you. He doesn’t want to always be the first to apologize, but he gives into that pride and always apologizes. Mainly because he can’t go more than ten minutes without hearing your voice or touching you.

“Baby, you have to come out eventually.”

His fist clung to the bathroom door after you’d been locked in there for the past thirty minutes due to some idiotic argument.

“No, m’busy being mad at you.”

“Stop being mad and love me.”

V = ALUE (how important is the relationship to them? what is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?)

The relationship is his first priority. He cherishes it, as it has both healed him and helped him all at once. He values it above all, if he loses this then he officially will feel as though he’s lost any hope in his life. He treasures it, and wants it to linger and fester on like a cut that scars and the scar never goes away.

You were never going away.

It comes above beer, weed, and maybe even the rest of the Pogues in certain circumstances.

“Starting to save up so that we can have our own place.”

“J, we don’t have to do it now if we’re not ready-“

“No I want this, baby.”

W = HOLE (would they feel incomplete without you? what is their worst fear, what causes a hole in their heart?)

He going to crumble. Chasing a high that he knows he won’t ever feel again as long as he’s not with you. Trying everything just to feel something, he’d be fucking miserable. Losing you was losing himself because you were what he based the entirety of the rest of his life around. It definitely would cause a massive, unfillable, black-hole in his heart that would not be able to be healed by another. Your love kept him going, it was his fuel and he knew it was unhealthy. But when you live a life without love being reciprocated, it’s so deathly hard to not let go of it when you actually get it.

“What the fuck am I supposed to do without her John B?”

“I don’t know but you’ve gotta’ do something man, you’re stinkin’ up my house. Jesus! Go shower.”

X = XENOS (what is something about them that is strange? something that most wouldn't like)

He likes licking your face … like genuinely he likes licking you. He likes watching you squirm as he does it, feeling his tongue against your smooth skin. Most couldn’t tolerate his wet tongue salivating all over them, but you put up with his odd habit because it was JJ. Tasting of the warmest vanilla.

“JJ, do you really have to lick my face in broad daylight?”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Y = ANK (what do they do that makes their partner mad? that makes one wanna yank they ass?)

JJ Maybank does not clean up after himself and it grinds your fucking gears. If he eats cereal and the milk is almost empty, he puts it back in the refrigerator instead of throwing it away. Beer cans will be stepped on, because after he drinks them he chucks it at whatever is in front of him. Old clothes are everywhere, hence the reason he can never find anything to wear. But at least he wasn’t a total slob, so you met in the middle.

“M’this close to choking you if I have to pick up your toothbrush again.”

“Do it then, baby.”

Z = ZZZ (what are their sleeping habits? do they snore? is the schedule fucked up?]

Cuddles of fucking course. His favorite type is the give you all of him by lying directly on top of you though he knows sometimes it crushes you, he’ll suffice for snuggling you into his chest and combing through your hair. And he is definite on staying that way all night, not being able to sleep properly if you weren’t present. He snores lightly but angelic almost, as he couldn’t image a better sleep than the one he has. He also twitches, he has to be in a deep enough sleep though. It depends on if the two of you decide to have a night out wether or not the sleep schedule is messy, but JJ typically looks forward to the shared night routine so there’s no complaints from him. Sometimes, he will even rush you.

Night time skin care before bed for instance.

“Where’s my face mask at baby?”

He’d tuck his hands into the front pockets of your pajama shorts, peppering fragile kisses to your collar bone.

“On the counter,” you pointed to the sheet mask. “Waiting for you to put it on.”

“But I want you to. You do it better, pretty girl.”

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thehobbitwithstickyuppyhair · 28 days ago

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Re: Pike in TLOVM S3...

Okay maybe it's just me as a person of faith who has a fucking complicated relationship with my religion... but I really love what they're doing with this exploration of Pike's faith this season. Already I have seen multiple people say it doesn't make sense for her to have a crisis of faith/doubting storyline because 'she already had one in season 1'

.... bestie my entire life is one ongoing crisis of faith, what the fuck.

I don't even really see this as a separate arc anyway from the first season, but rather a continuation of where it began. Pike's struggle is with finding the boundaries of her faith. To use the example of what Keyleth went through in her earth trial; not knowing where she ends and (in this case with Pike) her faith begins. Honestly I found Pike's declaration of "It's me" really powerful and moving. It wasn't the armor holding her back, it was herself. It wssnt even her god holding her back, it was herself. Putting her faith in herself doesn't mean she's renouncing the Everlight. If for some reason she does, I don't think that's where it's going to end. She had an experience in the Hells that shook her and stripped her faith down to the roots. Her arc didn't end this season - honestly? Speculation for next season time - I think she's going to fuck up and trust someone she shouldn't (Zerxus) and she's going to be hurt by it. If they end up playing with more Calamity and Downfall references I think it will be really interesting if they parallel it with the Everlight trusting Asmodeus... which he then he used to wipe out her followers.

I'm really intrigued to see where they go with Pike's storyline, and I don't think at all that her struggling with her faith/conflict with her god (or for that matter, Vax going against what the Matron said in order to save Percy) means that 'blah CR thinks the gods are all evil and big meanies!! >:((' I think it adds depth to the relationship Pike has with her faith and herself.

And honestly? Like I said above, as someone with a fucking complicated relationship with my faith, it's honestly been really comforting to see a religion arc explored as something with far more depth than a simple 'god good, you bad for not trusting more!!' or 'god bad, you stupid for trusting at all!'

So yeah. Maybe you've never had more than one crisis of faith arc in your life, but some of us have. And I take a lot of comfort in Pike's arc, and I really look forward to see where it ends. Because contrary to some of the complaints I've been seeing, it clearly isn't ended.

#critical role #vox machina #pike trickfoot #tlovm #tlovm spoilers #the legend of vox machina #tlovm season 3

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chaethewriter · 2 years ago

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with(out) you

Jack Champion x reader

In which Jack follows his dreams, unbeknownst to you hurting.

word count: 2,2k

tagged: @viivvriv @genesis4545 @norrisgf @darkcrusadestrawberry @drxwstxrkxy @wafflehousewrold

A/N: requested by my fellow Jack pookies. this took me 5 hours to write my attention span sucks ass. DON'T GET INTO MY INBOX HATING— JACK IS MY COMFORT RN DURING THESE STRESSFUL WEEKS. Anyway to my other pookies, ily enjoy. <3 tell me what tou thought.

Are y'all in need of a part 2?

Jack's career was skyrocketing. You shouldn't be surprised: an important role in Avatar The Way of Water and Ghostface in the popular Scream franchises with a movie featuring Pedro Pascal on the way. Your boyfriend was going places and you couldn't be prouder, but his career skyrocketing also meant he was highly recommended among casting directors. You should be proud of him. You didn't want to be in the way of his success, but what about your boundaries?

He got fancasted in a romcom on social media, to which he grew interested in. He was the top choice, it was everywhere. The existence of the handsome actor named Jack Champion spread like wildfire. You didn't know all the details, but he got casted as the handsome love interest. Just the way everyone wanted it to be. He was trending thanks to this role and he couldn't wait where it would bring him. You were happy for him, but another side of you couldn't help but feel uncomfortable a the thought. You knew it was work, of course you did. It was part of his work and besides, he loved you, right? But you still felt uncomfortable at the thought of him holding another, kissing another, being another's. You never dared to voice these feelings out, though. And you wished you did.

News got out of the casting of the movie and media went into an uproar, everyone but you. The publicity of the casting meant that filming would start. He asked you to be there for him and you reluctantly agreed. You could follow college online, so you didn't have an excuse not to go with him. Was it selfish of you to think like this? You really wanted to be the supportive girlfriend one would see on television, and you felt bad that you currently weren't that person for him.

"Are you proud of him?" You would answer that question truthfully: with a nod, because you were proud of him and what he had achieved.

Being behind the scenes was anything but exciting. Sitting at a table somewhere behind the crew as you typed away on your laptop. Your gaze would occasionally wander in front of you, craning your neck to see Jack in his glory, working his ass off. You couldn't help but smile as you watched him in his role. It was amazing to see how he could go from being Jack to a fictional character. But your smile faded as the camera was rolling and Jack gave her a look similar in your eyes. A look he gave you when he looked at you. A look that wasn't only yours anymore.

You packed your stuff and discreetly left the scene, phone in hand as your thumbs typed away on the screen.

You should have communicated properly.

Jack's phone buzzed in his mother's pocket.

Her <3: I had to leave in an urgent, ily I'll see you soon.

Your relationship was rocky, not the same as before. Jack wasn't stupid. Something was wrong. He may be busy, but he always noticed any small detail that changed when it came to you. He didn't want to push you, so he decided to not push you further. What a mistake that was.

Not communicating your feelings properly.

Not pushing himself to ask you about it.

Was that your downfall?

With this lack of communication, filming continued, with you out of touch with reality. You still stayed in the city Jack was filming at. You wanted to be there for him, but being on set? That you couldn't do. You would be wandering around the city, sitting at cafes as your gaze would focus on the assignment in front of you. You only saw one another at night, when he met you at his trailer after filming. Sharing a small kiss before heading to sleep.

Even that was taken away from you.

As you, unfortunately, walked in during a kissing scene. A kissing scene that they had to redo continuously. Wrong perspective. Touchier. More passion. You couldn't help but watched how his lips moved in sync with hers as she pulled him down by his collar, his hands on her waist. Their bodies pressed against one another. The camera tilted as he pressed her against a nearby wall, deepening the kiss.

"Cut! That was amazing!"

You had already disappeared amongst the crew, your appearance unbeknownst to Jack.

As well as your feelings.

How could you ever voice yourself?

How could he make you talk?

Since that day, you hadn't kissed him on the lips. They didn't belong to you anymore. Was there anything of him that was still yours?

He had shared his longing gazes, his I love you's, his lips, his touches.

What was still yours?

Could you still call him yours?

Every morning, every night, he had leaned in for a kiss from you. His girlfriend. He didn't feel anything for the kisses he did for work, but yours. Yours would always give him butterflies. Made him feel like he was floating. Made his heart beat faster.

But his heart did the polar opposite.

It broke.

It broke as you leaned to the side, his lips landing against your cheek instead.

What had gone wrong?

He watched your expression. A forced smile. He couldn't help it anymore. He couldn't watch the process of your relationship falling apart.

"Baby, talk to me." His voice was soft as it cracked, holding your cheeks in his hands, basically forcing you close to him. Thus forcing your gazes to lock. Your eyes faltered, tears almost welling up in your eyes. Almost. Then your gaze traveled to his lips. Lips that not only you kissed.

"Soon, Jack." Your lips pressed against the tip of his nose as you lied through your teeth. Not knowing you weren't the only one hurting.

Communicating was important, you knew that. But communicating meant explaining your feelings. It meant ruining Jack's career. You couldn't bare to do that. So during the entirety of filming and after, this pain went on.

Him <3: We will be there in 15, my love <3

Her <3: see you soon x

The premiere of the movie. With flashing cameras, interviews, crowds and the first watch. Jack had picked you up with his mother. You were his plus one, of course he had chosen you as his plus on. Who else could he have chosen? Even though the two of you were arguing and you still didn't talk, he wanted to work this out with you. He had hoped this premiere could bring you closer.

If only he knew.

You stayed in the background as Jack walked past the rolling cameras, microphones pressed into his face as every interviewer wanted the first answers to their questions for the rising star. Beside him stood the his co-star, the two of them smiling as they spoke into the microphone. You envied her. Ironic, envying a girl while you were the girlfriend.

"Everyone was amazing. The crew, the director, the cast. It was an unforgettable experience that for sure made me grow as an actor."

"Yes definitely. Jack was amazing to work with and I look forward to working with him more often. There was a bond that immediately clicked, which helped with our chemistry."

It made you sick to your stomach, watching them bond. Their chemistry had grown so much over the months. While you were brooding about your relationship, the two of them had grown so close. Why couldn't you just tell him how you felt?

With your head full of painful thoughts, Jack took you by the waist as he led you towards the venue. While he was proud to show you off to everyone as the cameras were shooting pictures of you, your mind was elsewhere. If only he had already connected the dots and gotten out of there with him, maybe the night would have turned out different.

At that point, you wanted to be anywhere else but there. The lights were off as the movie played on the big screen. You wanted to look away the entire time, the way your hands fiddled in your lap looking so much more interesting than the screen in front of you. But you wanted to support him, watch him act and praise him for it, so you endured the aching in your heart as you focused on your boyfriend holding another in his arms. Jack took notice of this. If he was honest, he could care less about whatever happened on screen: his gaze was focused on you and you only. The way you reacted to anything on the screen. His eyebrows furrowed, as if it finally settled in what was wrong with you.

"I love you, why don't you understand that?!"

"it will always be you!"

His lips pressed against hers, a heated make out scene on full display. The scene you had walked into. You felt sick in your stomach, tears welling into your eyes. You couldn't make a fool out of yourself, so you got up and left. Just like that. He watched you leave and shot up from his seat himself, covering most of the screen for the people behind him. He mumbled soft apologies as he rushed after you.

He had to find you and this time, he would make you talk.

To your dismay, he had found you fast. His long legs keeping up with your shorter ones. You stood in the middle of some empty hallway with your back facing him, your face in your hands as you sobbed. All the emotions you had kept inside you were bursting out, all at once. You were definitely overreacting. He was just doing his job, but why did it hurt?

"babe?" his voice rang through your head. He couldn't see you like this. You have been rubbing your eyes, your makeup was smudged for sure. He stepped towards you, slow but steady, "please talk to me? Don't tell me you're fine. Since I got casted you have been so off.." His voice trailed off, as if the realization finally hit. You were hurting. And it was his fault. The realization made him lunge himself at you, his hands settled on your waist as he pulled you closer. You felt your heart crack.

That wasn't only yours either. You pushed him away with your elbows, thus making him stumble back. "You're not mine anymore."

What?

Not yours?

You owned his heart. You carried it with you everywhere you went, unbeknownst to you. Your name was engraved into his heart. It was beating for you, and only you. He was yours. His mind, body and soul was yours.

"I'm yours, everything that has to do with me is yours."

You snapped. All your frustrations shot out, like lava escaping an active volcano.

You turned to him, your face covered in smudges as your hot tears rolled down your face. "Do you know how it feels to see my boyfriend be someone else's?! You held her like you do with me, you looked at her like you do with me. Hell, you never kissed me like you did with HER. So no, you're not mine. Because when I look at you, I just see you with HER. I can't do it Jack, and I'm sorry."

You held your arms to your chest, as if you tried to protect yourself from further heartbreak. The sight broke him. He never meant to hurt you and he wanted to prove you. A step closer to you was all it took for you to stumble backwards, "why didn't you tell me? I would have understood. Babe, We could have fixed this early on."

"No, Jack. Holding you back was never my intention. And look at you, this romance role made you skyrocket," your voice cracked, "you're a star Jack."

"If being a star means I am hurting you, then I don't want it. You don't hold me back, you could never hold me back. Please, I will do whatever to be with you. There are enough roles for me to get that doesn't include intimacy! Like horror roles, a cool badass side character. There is so much." he was rambling and he knew that. But he couldn't help it. He had to do whatever to make you stay.

"You always wanted to be a star and reach the charts, you-"

"I LOVE YOU! It will always be you! You would always be on my first place! I can't do this without you, please." That sounded incredibly similar. A familiar scream, so echoey that they had gained peoples attention. Phones were taken out, as well as flickering lights filling the room. But he could care less, he needed to fix this.

Yet you were thinking the complete opposite. You had to leave, you couldn't handle crowds. You could hear his pleads as you tried your best to make your way out.

He watched you leave, his tears rolling down his face as his hands were in his hair.

"Jack! Mind telling us what was going on?"

"Jack! Are you officially single now?!"

"Jack smile for us please!"

"Jack here!"

"Jack this way!"

Overwhelmed.

Aching.

He got on his knees as he cried, his face in his hands as he begged everyone to leave him alone. Begged them to let him cry at your departure.

This was his dream, but at what cost?

#chaethewriter #jack champion #jack champion x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion is taking my brain over #jack champion headcannons #jack champion imagines #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader

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marvelavengerspovs1 · 8 months ago

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Rest

Pairing: Bucky x F!reader

Warnings: No warnings, just fluff!

Length: 725

Summary: Bucky takes care of you while you have a migraine.

A/N: This was a request, which is the perfect excuse to say that my requests are open!

Request: “Can you write one where Bucky takes care of the reader when they have a migraine”

I do not give consent for my work to be translated, copied, or sold!

Bucky knows you better than you know yourself. He knows when you’re getting sick, he knows when you’re about to start your period, hell! He even knows when you’re having a bad day before you know it.

It could be because he’s a trained assassin, made to be very observant. Or it could be just because he is the world’s best boyfriend. Either way, he lives to make sure you are taken care of.

As you sit in the meeting room listening to Tony and Steve explain the next mission, you feel a pang behind your left eyeball. You let out a small sigh and rest your head on your hand, trying not to draw too much attention to yourself. You feel a hand on your left knee and slightly look up.

Bucky looks at you with his eyebrows scrunched in concern. His face was asking if you were ok. You give Bucky a small smile and grab the hand on your knee. Bucky isn’t convinced that you are ok but he didn’t pry, he just made sure to hold your hand tight.

Once the meeting is over, you try to stand up but wobble. Bucky quickly gets up to help but you put a hand out to stop him.

“I’m alright Bucky, I’ve just been sitting down for too long.” You give him a tight lip smile.

“You’re not alright Doll, I’m pretty sure you’re getting a migraine.” Bucky looks at you with concern.

“I’m alright. I’m just going to take a nap before we have to go train.” You tell him before leaving for your shared room.

Bucky follows behind you to make sure that you are fine. He knows your migraine symptoms but he also knows you’re too stubborn to do anything about it.

You sit on the bed and look at Bucky. He’s sitting on his side of the bed, watching you. You roll your eyes and face away from him.

“I’m fine Bucky, you don’t need to worry about me.” Bucky lets out a sigh and leaves the room.

He knows that once you get up you’ll get nauseous, you won’t be able to look at anything that has a screen or is too bright, and you won’t be able to see anything clearly. While Bucky loved that you were stubborn, he thought that it was your downfall.

Not wanting to fight with you, Bucky stays silent and watches you as you fall asleep. He listens for your breathing to even out before getting up. Bucky knows that you are going to be miserable when you wake up so he wants to make sure that he can make you feel better instantly.

Bucky grabs you some migraine medicine and your favorite blanket. His heart hurt that you wouldn’t be able to watch your favorite movies or listen to any music but he knew that you would fall asleep right after.

While going back to your room, he made sure to fill up your water bottle with ice-cold water and prepped a mug of hot chocolate. You would feel too sick to eat but a comforting beverage would help you fall asleep.

10 minutes after you fall asleep, you wake up. You let out an agonizing yelp and cradle your head.

“It’s ok, Doll, I got you.” Bucky quickly comes to your side with the water and medicine.

You thank him as you take the medication and cradle your head, feeling tears well up in your eyes. No matter how many times you get migraines, you refuse to acknowledge the symptoms.

“Thank you, Bucky.” You tell him quietly, your eyes closed.

“Don’t cry, Doll. You’re too beautiful to waste your crying on some stupid migraine.” You laugh at his words but immediately regret it.

“Will you lay with me?” You ask him with your arms out.

“Of course Doll, you never need to ask.” Bucky gets under the covers and you lay your head on his chest.

Bucky rubs your back and you wrap your arms around his waist. It’s moments like this that you fall more and more in love with this man. He would hang the moon and the stars just for you.

“Just rest Doll, I’ll take care of you.” He tells you and you fall back asleep, the comfort of the man you love making it easy.

#avengers #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader fluff #bucky x you #bucky barnes fluff

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irasamu · 1 year ago

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. . . (🍷) ֶָ֢ 𔓘 THE DRINK IS OF SORROW, KISS IT OFF MY LIPS ; a osamu dazai fic. ❞

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . ahhhhh!!!! deleting your account on accident isn't smthg i'll recommend, this is the downfall to my popularity. :/

˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🍷 ꒱ . . . tw ; sugar daddy!dazai, sugar baby!reader, fem!reader, sensitive!reader, crybaby!reader, reader is insecure and speaks about her insecurities, reader has abandonment issues, reader is shamed of her sensitivity, reader is twenty while dazai is in his late twenties, tease!dazai, riding in a club, angst, hurt to comfort, fluff, nsfw, and yeah that's it ig.

the cold breezes giggled as they watched the leafs on trees dance as if to flirt with them, the cold breezes showed their appreciation to this flirty gesture by blowing around and making the people they passed to shudder.

you hummed to yourself as you swayed your hips around to the song playing on your phone while trailing your index finger through the different lipsticks you owned, trying to choose the perfect one to go with your outfit for today.

as your finger hovered above the shade you carefully picked, the door bell rang and made your head to turn in its direction, a smile on your face as your excitement competed with the fluttering in your heart and you had immediately abandoned your dressing table to rush towards the door, opening it with a big smile on your face, expecting the one dear to your heart and sanity to be standing on the other side.

he wasn't. rather it were his bodyguards who you saw and your smile faltered slightly but not enough to make them think you are displeased with their presence.

the two bulky men bowed halfway which you mirrored before they entered your house and only then did your eyes fell upon their hands which grabbed many shopping bags, all distinguishable for they all belonged to famous brands which are deemed too expensive for people who fall in the same category as you for its as if luxuries and enjoyment is made only for the rich as only they can afford most of it and the ones not belonging to the same class and category as them? they have to compromise, to gain this luxury they must loose something else, the choice is entirely their's however on what to loose and what to gain.

you watched, still standing at the door, as the two men gently placed the many bags on your couch before turning to walk out after bowing to you again which you again mimicked.

as you closed the door, your phone began ringing and although still a bit bummed, you walked towards your dressing table, eyes falling down on your phone whose screen flashed the name of the person who was but a magician for how else will you explain the reappearance of the giddy feelings inside you.

you immediately pick the call and bring it near your ear, eyes closing at the soothing voice which is a hypnotizing lure to you speaking from the other side.

"got your gifts baby doll?" the calm voice wrapped in a teasing tone and a slight purr between his words caused you to raise your thumb and allow it past your parted lips before your lips enclosed your thumb and you gently bit on it, smiling.

"thank you." your voice matches the same calmness his greeted you with and you hear dazai hum, the low sound making your skin feel cold as a chill runs down your spine. perhaps love is really in the air today or maybe it's your expectations for today that has you seeing everything with rose tinted glasses or maybe it's simply the effect dazai has on you.

"happy birthday, sweet doll." dazai's soft voice makes your cheek pain a bit because of the big smile on your face, then you hear him sigh and shuffle on his chair a bit and with the next sentence he spoke, his voice had lost its teasing element and rather adapted a serious tone -- all because you laid your expectations and hopes out in front of him, waiting for him to pick them and treasure them like he usually does.

"when are you coming here?"

"as much as i want to be there, to hold you in my arms while kissing those sweet cheeks of yours . . . i don't think i can make it till late at night. a sudden and urgent meeting came up and i can not possibly miss it, my presence there is essential."

"you . . . won't be coming, will you?" small, meek and reeking of sadness and suddenly you aren't twenty but ten, sitting alone at your birthday party as no one showed up -- but that's nothing compared to now.

after going two weeks without seeing dazai, you hoped and you revealed this thought to him too of how much your heart will swell in gratitude if he shows up for even half an hour on your birthday, it would be more then enough for you.

the way dazai sighs, you don't even have to actually wait to hear him for your heart had already dropped to the deepest pits of your stomach and the intrusion made your stomach churn painfully, influencing your chest as it too felt like it was being compressed by the nimble yet atrocious hands of sadness.

"baby doll, i am sorry." his soft voice only fuels the sadness in your heart more, your eyes land on your reflection in the mirror and you nod,

"no, it's fine. really." you mutter but both you and dazai knows your words are baseless and meaningless for they were spoken as a formality.

"i really wanted to be there, trust me. i'll try to wrap up the meeting soon but i still won't be able to come there until ten --"

you are thirteen again, watching your mother make excuses for your father leaving and then you are fifteen, watching your mother's bestfriend making excuses for her sleeping around with different guys and being absent in your life.

"you don't need to come, it's fine." you watch in your reflection the sadness pooling in your eyes in the form of tears, biting your lip harshly to warn yourself to not cry now, tilting your head as suddenly your lipsticks lined up on the dressing table is a sight which annoys you.

dazai sighs again, running a hand through his hair. "baby please, trust me, i am so sorr--"

"it's fine." you rush to cut him off as you end the call for you don't want to hear his voice now.

"what even is the use of coming here later? i don't care anyway. it's fine, he is busy." you speak to your reflection in the mirror as you feel your throat burn, staggering forwards before you open your drawer and place your lipsticks inside it again.

"but . . . i would've dropped everything for you if it was your birthday." you whisper as you close the drawer and walk towards the couch behind which is the open kitchen as the two rooms have been combined in one to increase the space, a dining table just a few steps forwards and said dining table was your main source of attention today.

yet the thing is, the man for whom you will walk through seas and deserts isn't alone, he has a big corporation behind him who depends on him as well and so, he needs to consider them as well for one mistake on his part will not only affect him but the many who work under him too.

and who is a businessman if not a slave to his business?

you pick the two plates up before putting them in the cabinets again, doing the same with the wine glasses and then taking the dish you cooked in hopes of having dinner with him today and walking towards your fridge to put it inside but the sight of the cake box which you wanted to cut with dazai makes your lip quiver.

for who is a common man but not he who desperately tries to find happiness in small moments and interactions?

"stupid birthday, stupid sugar daddy." you grit your teeth as you slam the door shut, the movement was caused due to the intense frustration and disappointment you felt and as you trudge towards your bedroom, you pass by your couch where the shopping bags were placed neatly, a mockery, a blow to your heart and a massacre on your hopes and expectations.

why does your house feel so cold and unwelcoming? are your walls laughing at your loneliness right now? especially after how you were frantically trying to find the perfect dress to wear today at near midnight? he is going to leave soon too, isn't he?

everyone does.

but since when did dazai become like everyone else or are these just your fears fooling you, you wonder.

the first few drops of tears flowed down like the warning waves of a tsunami in its beginning states, you speed walk towards your bedroom and plop down on your bed, running a hand up and down your arm as you rock back and forth to calm yourself down.

dazai is your demise. he gave you so much love and attention that he filled the hole left by your parents with his own love and look, now how affected you are with his absence even if it's temporary.

but dazai is also your paradise or how else will you explain why you are imagining him backhugging you as you rub your arms to comfort yourself, the many times he stared at you with wide eyes filled with utter adoration or how he immediately drops everything and surrenders himself in whatever way you want him to whenever his eyes fall upon your glossy eyes.

it's him who spoiled you and it's him who encouraged you to cry and throw a tantrum at him whenever he hurted your feelings for dazai osamu is a mean man but oh lord, what a lover he is.

does he not see himself in you, the fragile child of him who was forced to be forgotten as he wore the mask of the arrogant bastard he is now?

does he not heal parts of himself in the process of healing you too or does he not try to find his humanity in the most humane emotion he feels which starts from his love for you and ends on his love for you?

dazai osamu is the man you want to never meet again right now but he is also the man on whose lap you want to bury your head in and cry right now.

but he isn't here and he won't be here for as long as he isn't done with his meeting and the fact that you aren't his first priority but his meeting is will continue to poison your brain with sadness till then.

looking down at the light pink silk dress reaching till your midthighs, you pucker your bottom lip as you remember how hard you tried to look extra preety today for the man whose thoughts follow you like misfortunes following orphans, addiction following the druggie and sorrow following the poor.

your silk dress with spaghetti straps and a slightly low neckline to tease the observer with the slightest sight of your clevage was all for dazai but what use is it now that the said man himself isn't here?

"stupid daddy. fuck him and fuck his meetings." you mutter, wanting to step out for fresh air for as long as you stay inside your apartment, your eyes would fall on the shopping bags and it'll only carve wounds in your flesh as the sadness would giggle before looming over you and stabbing you to let frustration and disappointment enter your body.

though you had many ideas of celebrating your birthday today, sitting alone at the bar of a club wasn't one of them but here you are, hands on the counter and around your wine glass as you rotate the glass to watch the liquid inside it splash around the glass.

how many hours has it been already? you aren't sure, you had switched off your phone too to not be bothered or disturbed by messages from anyone for your mood is sour and lashing at someone undeserving of it is the last thing you would want to do.

you felt the presence of someone next to you as you could hear someone sitting down on the empty stool.

"why is it that such a young girl like you is sitting here all alone?" a voice came from beside you, curious and amused yet you paid no heed to the speaker for your wine glass and the liquid splashing around is the greatest wonder for your somewhat drunk mind.

"why, am i not allowed to be here?" your voice matched his gentleness to let him know that just like him, you mean no harm and hostility.

the man laughed and if you weren't so drunk, would you have still liked the way his laugh reverberated in your ears and made your heart flutter?

"oh dear! that isn't what i meant. i am just curious as to why such a preety girl would sit all by herself, looking so gloomy? had a breakup?" voiced the man who you still haven't looked at for you didn't deem anyone else as important as dazai and if it isn't dazai then why bother looking?

but his voice, the man beside you must be a siren or why would you find your heart at peace as his words enter your ears?

"absolutely not. i am just a bit sad."

"your boyfriend ditched you?" why is his voice laced with a teasing undertone? is he finding your source of gloom to be perhaps an entertainment?

"kind of though it isn't intentional and this is what makes it worse. he didn't mean to yet i am still so stumped over it like a kid. this sensitivity of mine is something i am ashamed of and loathe." your eyes harden as you begin to glower down at your wine glass making it shiver in fear or perhaps its your own hand that is shaking as it sensed the turmoil inside you.

"why?" the man's soft voice urges you to continue forwards.

"it's not the fact that he couldn't make it that's upsetting me but the fact that i am not his first priority -- it's selfish of me, immature even but it is still the truth and this is what i am ashamed of. it's not his absence but my own ungrateful attitude that is making me ashamed for am i not overstepping my boundaries? am i not being greedy? should i not be content with the attention and affection i already get?"

with the finishing of your confession, you inhale a shaky breath before you add the very last of your feelings to this confession which is being expressed to a man whose face you couldn't even bother to look at,

"i am just so hopelessly in love with him that every single thing he does affect me and i am sure this feeling is one sided. i mean . . . when would even want to stay long-term with such a clingy person. it's hopeless! i am hopeless and i wonder why people leave me when the answer is so damn clear. a kid, i am." you scoff in self mockery, gulping the remaining wine which you were previously playing with before the man sat beside you, you place the glass on the counter as you blink one too many times to keep your tears at bay.

"you say you are a kid but with the way you speak, you are anything but a kid. after all, kids don't drink in sorrow, do they?" the joke cracked by the man made you smile for reasons unknown to you and maybe you don't even want to know the reasoning behind the way your lips curled up into a small smile.

"you calling me a kid too, mister?" your amused voice coming out as a tease makes the man next to you chuckle a bit.

"you admitted it yourself so what harm is there if i call you one too?"

"i will cry mister." you playfully threatened him.

"is the little doll trying to make me feel like the bad guy now?" the man's voice couldn't betray his amusement as he nearly chuckled at you antics.

you smile, raising your head to look at him for you want to see the face of the one who is lifting your mood up but you feel the cold dread of a possible confrontation approaching as for the man who sat beside you was none other then the man who was the very reason you find yourself stumbling into this club to attempt to drink your sorrows away, a very futile attempt it proved itself to be.

the said man sat with his elbow propped on the bar counter, cheek resting on his palm as he continued to look at you with an amused smile dancing on his lips, a glass of whiskey in his hands as he raised the glass to his mouth, parting his soft lips before gulping down the liquid as the liquid flows down his throat, adam's apple bobbing with the movement.

you quickly turn your face away from him, opting to stare at your now empty wine glass instead, a frown evident on your lips to let the man know of your displeasure upon seeing him but your fingers twitching in excitement under his hard gaze told him all he needed to, after all, can you ever be really angry at the man?

a black hole opens up in your stomach, sucking in your energy and everything else and the remains is the gloom settling on top of your irises as the conversation from a few hours ago, your excited state before receiving it played in your mind like a broken record who suddenly started working after being forced to by a sudden force.

"did anyone ever tell you how adorable you look when you are sad?" he mused and raised his eyebrows at the lack of reply, nevertheless entertained. he tried to grab your nape but you slapped his hand away midway, making dazai raise his eyebrows yet again.

"who are you? don't you know it's not good to talk to strangers?" your reply comes out as more of a snap for all the pent up emotions and feelings are now forcing their way out, seeing as you wouldn't let them out yourself. you clench your thighs slightly together to not notice how dazai is staring at you with gentle eyes or how he ran his hand through his hair.

"we are strangers?" dazai cocked an eyebrow before he grinned again, the same cocky grin which you are itching to remove off his face yet it is this same grin that is making butterflies enter the black hole in your stomach.

"but dolly you'll never have someone as handsome as me talk to you so how can i be a stranger? i am preety confident that my face isn't one to be forgotten soon yet you did? oh, how cruel of you to wound my heart like this!" dazai pouted in faux offense mixed with disbelief before he took one of the ice cubes from his glass ; setting the glass on the bar counter, dazai scooted his stool closer to your's.

"mister it seems as if you have had one too many drinks. you sound drunk with the bullshit you are spewing." you scoot your stool an inch at most away from his but dazai does the same with his as he speaks,

"then shouldn't you be a good girl and help this drunk old man?" dazai sees you scooting your stool away again and chuckles silently, grabbing the edge of your stool to restrict any further movements as he leans near you, dropping the melting ice cube inside your dress and down your clevage making you yelp, the ice leaves a trail of water and coldness behind as it flows down your chest and onto your stomach.

you bow your head in embarrassment as it attracts the attention of the bartender near you two who was serving another customer before you turn to look at dazai, glaring at him when you hear him giggle like a schoolboy.

"isn't it clear that i do not want to talk to you?" you snap.

"you don't want to?" dazai raises his eyebrows and sees you nod, he then proceeded to lean closer to you, lips inches away from your ear, licking it only slightly to make you shiver, which when you do, made him smirk in self satisfaction.

"but i want to talk to you," dazai placed his index finger on your exposed collarbone as he lightly traces it with his nail before letting his hand trail towards your shoulder. man, he really does want to take this dress off of you but he can't, not when you are still upset so for now, he'll just try to be content with caressing your collarbone and watching the area he touched be littered with goosebumps.

"i also want to make you sit on my lap and kiss you," he continued, hand now gripping your shoulder as he drags it up and down the length of your arm, you could only gulp.

"but since you don't want to talk to me, i guess i won't force you, i am somewhat of a gentleman after all." and he immediately retracts his hand which along with the way he sits back straight makes you miss his presence being near you, you look at him though your face remains blank as to not let him have his satisfaction upon seeing you reacting in anyway. dazai turns to his empty whiskey glass and takes the small, nearly melted ice cube between his fingers.

"thank you, now leave too." you hiss, closing your eyes when dazai yet again drops the ice cube on your clevage and you are once again forced to feel the temporary freezing sensation of the cube gliding down your chest and onto your stomach. when you opened your eyes again, you saw dazai leaning a bit too close to you to be considered appropriate given the place you two are at, but isn't the club the most appropriate place for this as well. for the club is practically one of the houses of heartbreak and of lust and the castle of mistakes and of fun.

"and let these other bastards think they have a chance with you? i don't think so," dazai mumbled out, eyes staring down at your lips before trailing back up to your eyes again as he grinned, cockily, "besides, i can sit wherever i want and right now, i feel like sitting here. it's comfortable here, i wonder why?"

he extended his arm forwards to wrap it around your waist to push you closer to him, the flat of his palm resting against the silk which worked as the only barrier against his skin and your's, dazai only laughed as you tried to push his chest to create distance but did you really need any when he clearly saw the way your breath hitched when your arm brushed against his chest. his other hand is holding your elbow in place to stop you from trying to push him away.

"maybe it's because you are here?" dazai hums as he taps his fingers against your hip but would you not falter and would your heart not throw the anger away if he continued to give you the touches you so crave?

"i really think you are only spewing bullshit right now, don't you know you are bothering me?" you raise your eyebrows at him as you smile sarcastically, as if challenging him and his ego, to edge him on till he has no choice but to remain silent for no words would formulate in that witty brain of his ; this is what you want to achieve at the very moment when you began to speak again.

"am i getting you all hot and bothered now, doll?" dazai grinned, tilting his head in such a way that caused his bangs to fall over his eyes while his thumb caressed your hipbone, going up and down to flatten the fabric clutching against your skin.

"do you not know the concept of someone not wanting to talk to you or were you always ignorant enough to think everyone would die to talk to you?"

your heart fluttered. the pressing down of dazai's thumb on your hip indicated you are somewhat succeeding in irritating him but is he dazai if he lets others get to him when it is always the other way around?

absolutely not.

"i mean, isn't it the truth? people would actually sell their souls to devil to have one chance with me. so if i may say so, you should consider yourself lucky, baby doll."

confidence in himself had always been dazai's weapon and it has always been your weakness.

your smile faltered, whatever determination you had in your eyes suddenly left you once again and you dropped your head, looking down.

had his words been the ones to bring you back to reality or were they the key to open your door of fears and insecurities?

"right. lucky." you smirk bitterly, nodding as you look away from him again. "so was not meeting me for two weeks your way of telling me to always remember my place or something? because it worked." you chuckled but it was humorless and one look at the serious expression on dazai's face only proved the point further.

ah fuck, dazai felt his throat being gripped. he can't breath suddenly with the way your eyes look so glossy, bottom lip jutted upwards slightly to form a small pout, should he lean in and kiss you now?

your vulnerability was always something that dazai cherished greatly.

"and i'll rather die then ever forget my place agai --" your eyes widened, words left hanging on the tip of your tongue and heart left unsheltered when your ribcage opened up to allow the hands of love to rip them open.

because this is how you feel emotions. strongly and dangerously. a threat to yourself because daddy was never there to properly teach you to feel things and mommy never knew how to control her own emotions, how could you expect her to help you?

you closed your eyes, perhaps due to the intimacy of the moment or to hide your eyes burning with tears, you won't try to find meaning behind your gestures and actions now when dazai is greedily devouring your lips in a heated kiss, eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed as if trying to prove himself and his point but what?

your hand raises to grab his shirt collar and to pull him forwards because you want more, you want to drown yourself in this kiss. you want to feel nothing but the movement of his lips against your's ; his hand on your hip which slithered down to grab your thigh harshly and tug it closer to him to ultimately pull you closer to him, his other hand which was resting by his side until this moment is now gripping your jaw to guide you to tilt your mouth so he could kiss you better.

you felt the black hole in your stomach being overpowered by arousal and what does a vessel do when it reaches its limit?

so the arousal flowed down towards your lower torso and decided to settle there, marking its territory by making your slick run down and stain your underwear.

"shut up, shut up, shut up." dazai chanted in a low tone against your lips because he wants you to feel every word which will leave his lips.

but how can you focus on his words when he looks so good with your lipstick stain around his lips, you lean upwards to press a quick peck on his jaw and when you pulled back, you saw the light lipstick stamp there as well, making you feel a bit giddy knowing those are your lips which were against his skin once.

dazai grabbed your chin to force you to look at him, pulling your chin to have your lips against his again.

"can't you fucking sit and look preety for me? is that so hard? who told you to run that dumb brain of your's?" he tightened his grip on your jaw, biting your lower lip with enough force to make your body twitch as you inhale sharply due to the pain and suddenness of his action.

"do you think i didn't want to meet you? i was ignoring you on purpose? you think i didn't want to abandon my work and come to you? i thought about it almost every single day but what can i do? i am not alone, my actions aren't mine alone." dazai pauses to release a chuckle and the way it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand for the way his lips move against your's with every word he speaks makes your stomach tingle and your heart to abandon every grudge and anger at once to bow down to him.

the way he is looking up at you with those brown pupils which holds the sweetest honey and the most earthly comfort makes your brain to close its eyes and turn away, letting your heart take lead once again.

and your heart will die but it won't stop now, it knows the sudden rush of courage is because of this intimate moment and perhaps this moment won't have the same impact if it repeats itself another time so it blindly takes the chance presented to it.

"you are the source of my pain and longing . . " you mutter, voice cracking as your hands greedily claw at his shirt to grab the fabric to ensure he won't run away, looking at him with narrowed eyes for the tears in them makes it hard to keep them open.

oh fuck, no, don't look at him like this. it's making it harder for him to sit straight, he could almost feel the blood rushing to his dick.

"but you are my cure, doll. don't be so cruel to me. it's my first time in love too. i make many mistakes -- intentional and unintentional but bare with me? please?" dazai whispers, eyes turning to crescent as he smiles in defeat.

if your heart is taking the lead in you then so is his, so cheers to the dance of your hearts which aren't afraid for the first time.

dazai is confident but he doesn't love himself so how can he freely love you?

and dazai knows you have neither love for yourself nor the confidence but you have love for him and as selfish as it may sound, he likes the way you love him, the way you devoted yourself to him for if not you, then who will love him in this big world?

children are born just fine without knowing the feeling of love, it is the love their mother shows them or the love they see between others in their growing years that makes them long for it too, to wish for it as well. dazai is no different.

he wants love. you give exactly that to him because daddy was never there to receive your overflowing love, but dazai is and he welcomes it with open arms.

"because i am immature! fucking immature and dumb and clingy as hell and --" you purposely bring a stop to your overflowing insults as you take short breaths to bury your incoming sobs in them, your hands grabbing his shirt fabric shook as you tried to bury your wrath for yourself within the chambers of your body, " -- and you are so amazing. you are basically husband material and many women would die to be with you and many are better then me, more experienced then me and what do i have to give to you? i don't even know how to love properly and i am insecure even though you give me no reason to be and i just ruin everything with how sensitive i am and i . . . i just don't want you to leave me, thinking of me as immature and not someone you would want to be with because you deserve so so much better." at the end of your confession, you are left breathing heavily before you squint your teary eyes to stop the air from hitting and making them burn.

your head falls forwards on his shoulder with the last sentence leaving your lips after which followed the soft and small sobs, hands wrapping around his waist as you let the anger be converted into sadness for you would rather cry to dazai then be angry at him.

"stupid doll," dazai sighed and this made you sob harder before he tapped your hip, "come here, come on my lap." he leaned his head down to whisper in your ears but sighed adoringly when you shook your head, trying to nuzzle your head even more against his chest, he only patted your back as the other grabbed the back of your head to keep you pressed against his chest.

"aww glad to know you are still my cute crybaby because with the way you were angry, i thought for a second that i was actually done this time. preety doll, you actually made me sweat a bit." dazai pretends to sigh in relief but chuckles when you weakly lift your hand to smack his chest, holding your wrist as he raises your hand to his lip to kiss the back of your palm.

"when someone is crying mister, you ought to not crack lame jokes and stuff --" your words are once left hanging on your lips when dazai lightly smacks your hip, tsking as well though there is a grin on his face.

"it's daddy for you, not mister."

"i don't go around calling random men daddy." you lean back as you wipe your tears away, chuckling in embarrassment due to crying in a bar of all places but when you look up at dazai, you see him pulling a small box out of his pocket which distracted you or else you would've finally gotten the satisfaction of seeing dazai poke his inner cheek with his tongue at your words. your teasing along with the sexual frustration he feels is just making him go insane at this point, that is, if he won't take care of it soon.

two weeks without you were a challenge and you better be glad that dazai had enough self control to not pounce at you at the very moment he saw you sitting all alone at the corner of the bar, strap of your dress slightly pulled down as you weren't aware of it to pull it upwards.

a navy blue velvety box which he opens to reveal a pink diamond pendent with a white diamond outline, he picks the chain with his index finger before he stands up, takes a step closer to you and without speaking anything, he places and secures the diamond around your neck, where it's rightful place is.

though the gentle facade only lasted so long before dazai hooked his index around the very same necklace to pull you forwards in a jerking motion, his other hand placed on your thigh as he caressed your revealed skin, leaning his body down to whisper in your ears,

"my doll must've drank too much to forget me it seems. not to worry, i'll remind you who i am." raising one hand to let one of his guards know to come here and pay for your drinks, dazai's hand trailed lower till it rested on your elbow and he began to pull you with him towards the area of the bar reserved only for those of higher society who wish to be far from those prying and lingering eyes of others. for isn't the club meant to be an escape for everyone despite their status.

you look at dazai's back covered with his black blazer and you can't help but imagine taking it off him followed by his shirt and then his belt before finally moving to his pants.

"eye-fucking me may bring you pleasure but you can wait a few minutes for the real deal, right doll? or are you that horny that you wish i would take you right here, right now?" well if you weren't aroused before, you surely are now. the purr in his voice between his words were directed to make you feel all hot and bothered combined with that playful sing like tone of his, dazai knows what to do and when to do to get you all worked up.

like a bee being lured towards nectar, you couldn't help but silently follow dazai as he nodded at the bouncer before you two were allowed inside the vip section where scandals, affairs and controversies happen in every nook and corner but stays between the four walls of the separated section from the rest of the club building.

dazai takes off his blazer to reveal his white shirt before he looks back at you and throws his blazer around your shoulder, his hand trailed down to now hold your hand before he kissed the flat of your palm again and began to pull you with him.

is that the famous a-list actor getting a lap dance on the very far right? you think so but aren't sure as you weren't able to get a good look at his face, not that your mind would allow you to look around and get a glimpse into the lives of those who portray themselves as someone else on television with the way dazai's thumb is rubbing your knuckles.

"you aren't overbearingly clingy or i would've told you so, didn't i tell you i like when you act freely like a kid around me? it doesn't matter if you act like a kid or --" dazai leads you towards the very corners before he sits on one of the two maroon velvety u-shaped sofa. " -- immature because as i said, i enjoy knowing you feel comfortable enough around me to be this fragile. i like knowing this fragile doll is mine to take care of. and over sensitive? rubbish."

dazai scoffs at the claim before he tapped your butt and then his thigh, leaning back on the sofa while spreading his legs apart as he smirks and when he does smirk, you feel a shiver of lust travel down your spine.

dazai tilted his head as he watches you take the blazer off your shoulders before you move to sit and straddle his lap, he places the blazer around your waist area and bottom as he tied the sleeves around your waist before he pushed the fabric of your dress up.

" -- good girl. you aren't over sensitive. even if you were, it would have been fine. i am not a coward to not handle my girl's emotions, yeah?" lithe fingers grazed your jaw before they grabbed your chin and tucked it upwards as if to make an emphasis of his words, dazai may be smiling softly but the way his other hand was between your thighs as his knuckles grazed your clit made it clear what is going on in his mind.

"and who even told you that i will leave you for someone else? if that were the case --" dazai grabbed your hips with both of his hands and began to move you back and forth on his crotch, relishing in the hiss you released, "-- wouldn't i have already done it? i don't like wasting my time on stuff i do not deem important."

dazai looked up to make sure you are listening to every word leaving his lips and when he saw you biting your lip due to the friction he is causing, he tsked before lightly smacking your breasts,

"use your ears and hear what i am saying, hm? are you listening to me, baby doll?" dazai raised his eyebrow at you.

"yeah daddy," you could only mutter, looking down to make sure your slick hadn't tainted his pant but when dazai saw you doing so, he humped upwards to tease you.

the response from you which was a small whine was seen in a green light as dazai hummed, leaning his head down to have his lips on your collarbone, a shiver ran down your arm when dazai parted his lips to let his tongue tease your skin, "you can't go around acting as if you aren't worthy of my love. that's disrespectful to me doll, you get me?" dazai kissed your collarbone, slowly moving upwards towards your throat as you could only hum out in response.

"just like it's my first time in love, so is your's," he leaned in to peck your lips quickly.

your breath hitched when dazai kissed your throat before moving upwards again. is it getting hot in here? or is this the carnal urge to remove your clothes and bend on dazai's lap?

"so don't go around thinking you don't know how to love and stuff because i don't as well but in the same way, we really don't know how to really live too but we still try, making many mistakes and most live life imperfectly --" dazai kissed your chin, then began to trail kisses down your jaw before your hands trailed down to trace the growing bulge in his pants and he hissed, grabbing your palm and raising it towards his lips to plant a kiss on it.

"-- but the thing that makes them have pride in that imperfect life of their's is the fact that it's exclusively and uniquely their own. in the same way, our love may not be ideal, it may not even be right but it's ours, reserved and understood by only the both of us so --" dazai let's go of your hand but you were done with being sad and miserable alone, so your hand reaching out to cup his cheek also meant reaching out for dazai to take you, to protect and take care of you like he always does.

"-- don't be scared of making mistakes, our love is ours to live and not a romance story to be told to generations to come." dazai smiled, looking up at you as he placed his hand on top of your's and tilted his head on your hand. "lift yourself a bit for me, preety."

the low murmuring made your pussy clutch around nothing in particular, you placed your hands on his shoulder before lifting yourself enough to have dazai slip his hand under to fiddle with his belt, hooded eyes watched the man's fingers unbuckle his belt, pull the zipper down after which he lifted his hips upwards as well to be able to remove his cock from the very last confinement.

"sit," dazai had mumbled only after spitting on his dick a few times, index finger raised to push your panties to the side to reveal your glistening cunt clutching around nothing.

he smiled. then flicked your bud to see you widen your eyes in surprise, he could drown in these reactions.

you lowered yourself on his dick as his finger kept your panty pushed to the side, you closed your eyes to embrace yourself for the incoming pain of him pushing himself inside you but you really underestimated your own arousal for the moment you sank down, dazai's dick entered your cunt without much problem though he did have to guide his dick inside you as you were taking too long for his liking so he wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you down.

now you were thankful for the loud music blasting in the club or else your little yelp would've definitely made some heads to turn your way.

"daddy be gentle --"

"sorry sweetie," dazai cooed, as he cuts you off as he heard your whimper, caressing your cheek with his knuckles, chuckling as he lets you get adjusted to him, "but i need to prove to you that no one else's pussy could drive me so mad, yeah? daddy gotta let his sweet doll know just how much he loves her and her pussy and how great you make me feel when you cum on me, hm?" he cooed yet again.

you bite your lip, nodding. and you had to bite your lip again in shyness when you felt your walls clenching around his dick making him hiss as he closed his eyes.

dazai thrusted upwards once to let you know to begin moving, you placed your hands on his shoulder as his came around to wrap around your waist while the other pulled you forwards by pulling on the pendent around your neck, you gripped his shoulders to stabilize yourself as you begin to move your hips to and fro.

a small moan left your lips, the warm dick inside your walls reached spots that weren't touched for the past two weeks and you soon found yourself bending to this pleasure.

you raised yourself up a bit to have his dick sliding out halfway before you sat back down again, a choked whimper left your lips and you repeated the action again while dazai's hand made sure to hold his blazer against your waist to make sure no one else sees what is supposed to be only his.

choked whimpers and broken moans had found path to escape through the gaps between your pursed together lips and none went to deaf ears for dazai tried to savour the sound of every single one, he closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall as he closed his eyes to make the moment just more intimate for him. to not be able to see anything but only hear your voice and feel you bouncing up and down on his dick drives dazai towards the edge so when you saw this, you couldn't stop yourself from raising your hand and gently placing it over his eyes to cover them.

"oh shit," he groaned lowly, squeezing your sides in a comforting manner as you continued to bounce up and down without as much as batting an eye at anyone who could accidently glance your way and see you two, "and you really think i would go to someone else. you've never been more wrong, my doll."

dazai lazily smirked, letting you go at your own pace as your fast and short breaths were all he could hear along with the occasional moans which despite your resistance, broke free and escaped, being a treat to dazai.

he grabbed your hand and pulled it down towards his lips to kiss it once before letting your hand fall on his shoulder, gripping it to stabilize yourself as you bounced.

"baby doll, is this the best you could go? i am pretty sure you could do better, right?" he would lazily open one eye to tell, grinning as you nodded and almost stumbled over your words as you tried to formulate a reply,

"should i go faster daddy?" were you really the one who was crying a few minutes ago? dazai wouldn't have believed so if it weren't for the evidence on your face -- the eyeliner and mascara running down and that including the way you are parting your lips as you spread your legs a bit has dazai nearly throbbing.

he leaned forwards to litter kitty licks and small kisses on your neck and collarbone before he began to suck on whatever portion of skin his lips grazed.

a whimper left your lips as you tilted your head back to give him more access and freedom to paint your skin with his marks, dazai had enough of letting you take the lead.

"my doll can't even fuck herself on me. guess i gotta do that myself." he hummed and teased before dazai opened his eyes and sat straight, grabbing the back of your thigh and pulling you even more towards him and you were nearly dying in anticipation of his first thrust because no one does it like him or well, no one could do you like he could.

but he doesn't.

instead dazai sighed as he stayed inside you, leaning his head down to hide it in the crook of your neck while his hand played with the diamond on your pendent. he kissed your neck, then licked it once before sinking his teeth lightly onto your skin and didn't react when you gasped out softly.

dazai didn't move till he was sure his teeth left a mark on the side of your neck, he sat straight after that and reached into his pant pocket to pull out something but what he pulled out was a mystery to you as dazai tugged on your pendent to pull you closer and immediately slammed his lip on yours.

he didn't kiss you. he immediately sucked your bottom lip before biting it and as you closed your eyes momentarily due to his suddenness, dazai's hand extended upwards to place something in the middle of your clevage-- paper, but not the normal kind, it seems if you base it all on your institution.

but you haven't seen the world as much as dazai did and he knows it just as well as you do so his hand hovers above your knee which he gently taps.

it's when you open your eyes again to look down at the paper whose shape gives it away what it could be that dazai saw you smile for the first time since your last meeting and man, did it make his heart to forget its basic purpose of beating.

"you really didn't think i would let you cry on your birthday, did you?" dazai scoffed playfully, an eyebrow raised as he stared at you who was examining the two flight tickets before looking up at him, eyes wide in excitement.

"it's for greece." you whisper out but dazai only hums out in disinterest as he seemed more focused on untying the sleeves of his blazer around you before tilting his head at the clothing, you allowed him to assist you in wearing the blazer.

"indeed it is, three days after today." dazai murmured, leaning back to be in a more relaxed position as he blushes a bit.

the same man who won't even bat an eye while you are cockwarming him does find himself blushing at the sight of you wearing his blazer, only the neckline and a bit of your clevage present to tease him, diamond pendent resting on you -- it's as if you are a gift waiting for him to unwrap you.

"i . . . you'll wait till then? you can, right?" he whispered.

"you are the source of my pain and longing but you are also the medicine to heal my wounds --" you correct your claim from earlier as you tear your gaze away from the tickets and look at him instead, raising your hands to wrap around his neck as you lean onto him, the slight movement of you leaning forwards was an attempt to produce the tiniest bit of friction but dazai didn't mind, "i saw some realllllly cute stockings daddy, they had like bows on them and stuff." you told, looking up at him.

"yeah? where? will you wear it for me next time?" dazai smiles as he raises his hand to caress your cheekbone with the back of his hand, "preety doll," he cooed.

"i will," you nod.

"so the little doll finally recognized me? am i daddy again now?" dazai grinned, teasing.

"don't make fun of me daddy, you should be on your knees and begging for forgiveness for making me cry so much today." rolling your eyes didn't mean much when the smile on your face was oh so clearly visible to dazai.

"ah, my baby doll, such a bad man i am!" dazai dramatically gasped, pulling your pendent to pull you towards him as he kissed your forehead before he tilted his head to capture your lips in a messy and wet kiss and when he spoke against your lips after the kiss, his words were accompanied with the deadly combination of his fingers moving towards your thighs and settling in between them after which they stretched to find your clit before he began to rub your clit with his thumb, not minding your small moans and gasps of pleasure and rather to fuel you more, he began to trace your folds with the fingerpad of his index finger,

"won't you let daddy make it up to you? in my car? if you cum five times, i promise you'll go to greece with an entirely new wardrobe."

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