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#Especially when there is so much more to this book than just romance
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thinking more about trigger warnings and. Bluntly, I think except for a couple specific types of things—like a rape scene in a book, or gunshot noises in an audio drama—content warnings are almost impossible to be useful when they come from somebody who doesn’t know you.
I talk about a really good horror movie I saw to my mom, and she asks, “Would I like it?” and I can say, “there’s one pretty bloody and gross scene, and one scene of a chimpanzee attacking somebody but it’s mostly offscreen, and otherwise, it’s mostly suspense and psychological, I think you’d like it.” That’s a content warning. It’s also only really possible because I know my mom and I know what makes her uncomfortable (gore and excessive violence, mostly). I was reading one of the bleakest, most depressing, most unsettling books I’ve read in my life, and chatting about it with a friend, and I said upfront that it’s bleak and upsetting, and also went into the background of the author a little bit—he wrote it as he was in and out of hospitals, dying of cancer. My friend’s dad was at that point in the hospital with cancer. Because I knew that I wanted to contextualize the book if he was considering reading it. A lot of the time when I’m talking about sci-fi books with another friend who reads a lot more of them and faster than I do, they will often let me know, “It developed a really bad straight romance halfway through,” or “the romance arc wasn’t awful but was annoying,” or “I actually didn’t mind the romance in this one.” These can be thought of as content warnings, telling me that kind of content to expect and brace myself so I don’t get disappointed by another stupid romance subplot in a book a otherwise was looking forward to. “It’s got SO much body horror” can either be a warning or a recommendation, depending on who you’re talking to. We trade our assessments of books, and let each other know what we might like and what we won't like. That's super important—and impossible to impersonalize.
Especially when it’s stuff like “yeah it was uncomfortably sexist” or “the author writes Asian people in a really uncomfortable way” or “there’s just random fatphobia consistently throughout” or “one of the magic things in it relies on the idea that love is what makes you human and people who don’t fall in love are monsters” which the author obviously isn’t going to warn for and is going to hurt some people more than others, and some people probably aren’t even going to notice. You kind of have to know somebody before you can assess what they might need to know going into something.
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fubuwu · 9 months
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Fuck it. I'm gonna bite the bait just to say that there were many instances where jc clearly trated wwx like a brother/friend in the BOOK, aka the canon text in case anyone was confused or have seemed to have selectively forgotten about.
From the part where jc scoffs at the prospect of wwx getting together with a servant. Laughing and proclaiming that he was treated better than he was (in reference to his own sister peeling his lotus seeds for him which she didn't do for jc).
Then there was him standing up for him on NUMEROUS occasions throughout the book. Such as before the LP Massacre. He could have let his mother beat wwx senseless, but he tried to stop her from doing so, begging and crying even for her to stop and take the punishment for him. Despite the risk it took to do so.
Not to mention the excuses he made to the rest of the cw after the war when he stood up for wwx and shrugged off his casual and overly familiar demeanour.
Then ofc there was the sacrifice he made for wwx (which he didn't have to do as the only male sect heir) whilst they were on the run from the Wens that ultimately led up to the events in the novel..
The Cloud Recesses era.. the part after jfm gave away his dogs and jc steadily welcomed wwx in his life, willing to scare away any dogs that threatened him..
These are all things a nasty, homophobic rich man would NEVER do for his servant if he only saw them as such.
If he was classist as you all seem to think he is, then he would never dream of doing all the above CANON EVENTS for wwx's sake. Js.
These were all in the book. To ignore them, that means you are ignoring mxtx's work and you clearly did not understand the complicated relationship wwx and jc had.
Because it was made clear throughout the text that jc never saw him as a servant. They shared a room, went to school together and made HUGE sacrifices for eachother. So much so, that their relationship pissed of jc's mother.
If you ignore that then you are ignoring a VERY IMPORTANT part of the text. And I have to wonder if y'all only came into the fandom for the mlm relationship between wwx and lwj and not the the story. Clearly, y'all are selectively ignoring some very IMPORTANT facts. Js. This book is MORE than just a bl........
And if that's the case, then you have no place arguing jc canon facts. Js.
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zaachknight · 4 months
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checked tiktok for some itgo (cause I forgot to check there when I first read it) and I just gotta say,, did most these ppl truly not get the plot of it (or even the subplot) or what? "it's such a larry story" "it's 1d coded!!!" no it's not what r u twelve????
like I like 1d, and I get it but I'll be honest, it just doesn't make sense to me how ppl who've read it can take that from it like. come on.
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fuckyeahisawthat · 3 months
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Controversial opinion among Dune book fans maybe, but I loved the changes they made to Chani's character. Making her a fedaykin who is already an experienced fighter before Paul arrives was a brilliant choice. Dune Part Two is a war movie, and this puts her at the center of the action, side by side with Paul, and gives her a much more active role than she has in the book.
We got a hint of where things were going in the beginning of Dune Part One. The first thing we ever know about movie Chani is that she's a fighter. She serves as a voice for the Fremen, telling us the story of their struggle from her point of view. I wrote here about the difference this change makes compared to other adaptations of Dune, what a perspective shift it is to have the world of Arrakis introduced not by an outsider, describing it as a dangerous but valuable colonial prize, but by one of its native inhabitants, who tells us before all else that it's beautiful, her home that she's fighting to liberate. I am so, so glad that the second movie followed up on this characterization.
I never found Chani and Paul's love story in the book particularly convincing, because why would this woman, who already has a prominent and respected place in Fremen society, even give the time of day to her deposed would-be colonizer, let alone fall in love and have children with him? Without a compelling reason for Chani to love Paul, she ends up feeling like a prize to be won, and "indigenous culture personified as a woman to be wooed (or conquered) by the colonizing man" is a trope we've seen and don't need to repeat.
But as soon as you tell me it's a barricade romance I get it. Cool cool cool, I know exactly what this relationship is now and it makes sense. Movie Chani doesn't respect or even particularly like Paul when she first meets him, and she doesn't think he's the fulfillment of any prophecy. She comes to respect him, and eventually love him, through his actions. He's brave--sometimes recklessly so. He fights well. He's willing to stick his neck out on the front lines with the other Fremen fighters. He can (after a little help) hack surviving in the harsh desert environment. He's not too proud to learn from others. He seems to genuinely want to be her equal in a common political struggle. All these qualities make sense as things she values.
Fighting side by side as equals is just about the only way I can see movie Chani falling for Paul. And it fits perfectly with the film's pattern of reversals that Paul's capacity for violence would initially be one of the things Chani likes about him, only for her to be repelled later when she sees what he becomes.
And as for Paul, well, he's had people deferring to him his entire life. Someone who doesn't take any shit from him is probably refreshing. He seems to like people (Duncan, Gurney) who challenge him and engage in a little friendly teasing--and aren't afraid to go a few rounds in the sparring ring.
It's easy to speedrun a romance when you're spending all your time together in mortal danger fighting for a shared political cause. Especially if you then start winning in a war your people have been fighting for decades. Are you kidding me? That is the perfect environment for intense battle camaraderie to turn into romantic love, and lust.
It makes sense that this version of Chani never believes Paul is any kind of messiah. Of course a character like movie Chani wouldn't believe in or trust some outside savior to liberate them. She's been working to liberate her own people for years. The more Paul invokes the messianic myth, the more he starts sounding once again like someone who plans to rule over them, and the more uncomfortable Chani becomes. In this way she becomes a foil to Jessica, the two of them representing the choices Paul is pulled between. It's a great way of externalizing the political and philosophical debates that often happen within characters' heads in the book.
And of course this version of Chani would leave Paul at the end of the film. It's not just the personal, emotional betrayal--although that stings. What common cause does she have with someone who just declared himself emperor and is sending her own people off in a war of conquest against others? Given the important role she plays in Dune Messiah, I am super curious to see how they get her back into the story, but girl was so valid for being willing to just gtfo. Given that she has the last shot of the whole movie, I'm sure she'll be back somehow, and I can't wait to see what they do with her character in any future installments.
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ltleflrt · 2 months
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Figuring out I'm on the ace spectrum was so difficult because I have always been a horny bitch. I knew what sex was at a fairly young age, because I'd asked my mom and she's one of those good parents who'll answer questions like those, and as I grew older and would ask more complex questions, her answers would evolve along with my curiosity and understanding of the world. And I remember having fantasies as young as 9 or 10 years old, even if they were hella vague and nothing close to what sex actually is lol
So as I became a teenager, and all my friends' focus turned from playing with dolls to flirting with boys, I automatically thought I was attracted to boys. And I paid more attention to Cute Boys than I did to Cute Girls, because girls were just nice to look at while boys were People To Have Crushes On. Because of heteronormativity. Looking back on it now, I know there were girls I liked to stare at just as intently as boys, although less often because I wasn't trying to pay attention. And I certainly didn't fantasize about girls because I started reading romance novels in 5th grade, so I was fantasizing about male romantic partners because that was the fiction I was consuming. I didn't even realize fantasizing about girls was possible until I was 17, and I had a few "am I a lesbian" internal crises for years because of it.
So when I did start having sex, I had A LOT OF IT with SO MANY different guys, and eventually a couple of women once I started accepting that bisexuality was real. But it was never really fulfilling. Not like my fantasies were. Not like my books were. I was slutty because sex was fun, I was horny, there were plenty of options so I kept searching for that satisfaction I was craving.
Getting married was a relief (even though it turns out I'm aro-spec too lol) because I was tired of hunting, and even if sex with my husband was meh, at least I had someone around to scratch that itch if I had it, and he didn't mind if I occasionally took care of things on my own because I'd read an especially hot scene in a romance.
I learned about asexuality in my early 20s, but I brushed it off. Couldn't be me, I'm far too horny for that. But I think that comes from the fact that everything you hear about Aces is attached to sex-repulsion or sex-indifference. I wasn't either of those things. I was horny all the dang time. I was fantasizing about sex all the dang time. I figured actual sex was meh because my imagination was so vivid that real life could never match up. Which could be true to an extent, but I think not as much as popular opinion would have us believe. If fantasy was really that much better for everyone, then I think we'd have less incels and unplanned pregnancies than we do.
In my 30s I finally saw people talking about The Spectrum, and I started examining my past, and I figured out I wasn't really attracted to anyone I had sex with. I do occasionally find someone attractive; there are men and women and enbies who make my skin feel tight and give me a little wave of lightheadedness lol... but it's always always the fantasy that gets me really going. If given the opportunity I wouldn't have sex with any of those people. Thank you, but no thank you, I'd rather just imagine it than physically participate in the act with them.
(Ok I might go down on them, but that's less about wanting sex, and more about being able to add them to my Tally. Hell yeah I want to brag about making *insert hot person* have an orgasm. There's PRIDE in that kind of accomplishment lol)
I have a lot of respect for aces that are not horny. I understand it even if I don't share the sentiment. And I feel like most of them understand me even if they don't share the sentiment. There's a solidarity between us.
Until I go into a fandom tag for a character that the aces have glommed onto because they're canonically ace or headcanoned as ace. Good lord, the non-horny aces can turn into downright vicious bastards if a horny ace sexualizes their blorbo.
This post is for them.
Horny aces exist. Please look up "autochorissexual, lithosexual, and aegosexual."
Refer to those definitions in regards to romantic attraction as well as sexual attraction.
Some aces may not fall into one of those definitions, because asexuality is a spectrum, but they may still be horny.
Horny aces are not disrespecting you by enjoying being horny on main. We promise we'll wash the stickiness off our hands before we hold your hands in queer solidarity.
And most importantly: Your blorbo is fictional and does not need to be defended from icky sexuality. They exist in an infinite multiverse, so your blorbo and my blorbo are not the same, even if they appear to be on the surface.
AND:
This post is also for the people who are confused about themselves because they're horny but don't actually feel attraction. You're not crazy, you're not wishy washy, you're not "waiting for the right person to come along" (unless you are, in which case I hope you find them). You're just a thin strip of color on a massive rainbow that holds more unique shades than anyone can perceive at a glance.
You're valid. You're one of us too.
And don't be mean to the non-horny aces. Tag your smut so they can avoid it. (But actually so I can find it lol)
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charliemwrites · 4 months
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…. So Mister(s) steal your girl, huh?
Content: Unhappy Relationship, (Brief) Gaslighting, Sad Reader
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Bombshells, you always thought, were supposed to making a whistling sound before landing. A high pitched warning of impending doom. Too late to escape the incoming devastation, but at least it wouldn’t come out of nowhere. There’d be some time to brace, for all the good it would do.
Maybe you watched too many movies.
Three months. That’s how long you got to enjoy the bliss of engagement before the world began to fall around you.
Your fiance came home and sat you down, his hand around yours. You thought he was breaking it off for some reason. What he did instead was worse.
In the aftermath you can only remember snippets of the one-sided conversation. Like tinnitus, an awful running in your ears left over from a dropped bomb.
Things like,
Still young, I want to explore…
How will I know you’re my forever unless I know what’s out there?
Last bit of freedom before being tied down…
If you love me and our relationship…
You love your fiance and your relationship. You don’t want to lose it just because you’re selfish. He’s still coming home to you, after all. You’re the one with the ring and all the plans for the future. So what if he wants to… explore? He’s even offering the same to you.
An open relationship, he calls it, like it’s some innovative idea.
You’ve heard of them before, never had much interest. Still don’t, honestly, but it was that or the desolution of 4 years.
You insisted on a long engagement. Your fiance promises that you two can revisit the open relationship when you’re married.
Within a week of agreeing, he’s leaves for the weekend. He doesn’t tell you where he’s going, who he’s meeting. He comes back Sunday evening smelling like someone else’s perfume with a hickey on his collarbone. When you refuse any advances, he sighs and says he “understands that this is a transition” and goes to shower.
It’s like that for six months. Weekends without him. Sometimes sending him off Friday morning and not seeing him until Monday evening. Lipstick on his collars, strange perfume invading the laundry. You start doing his clothes separately.
Six months. You spend months suffering in silence, sniffling through Saturdays and drifting through Sundays. Adjusting meal plans to cook for one.
The last straw is when you try to make plans on a holiday. You and your fiance haven’t done on a proper date in months. You want to go out, have all his attention on you, not shared with his phone.
“Ooh, sorry dear, I’ve already got plans with Malorie. Rain check, yeah? We’ll do something next week.”
You decide to go out anyway, sick of feeling sorry for yourself. Nothing fancy, just a bit of self care. You buy yourself a cute new outfit, put on a bit more makeup than usual, do your hair. Find an interesting little late night book shop. They serve wine and food and have comfy booths for people to read or talk or play board games.
The perfect place to be out but alone.
You’re debating the merits of a romance novel when a voice comes from your left.
“Love that one.”
You blink, glance up. Find a handsome man with eyes simultaneously so dark and so warm. Coals, you think. There’s a cheeky little quirk to his mouth as he nods at the novel.
“It’s good if you like will-they, won’t-they.”
You hum. “I’m more in the market for something… easier? If that makes sense.”
He hums, gives you a solemn look. “It does. Here, you might like this then.”
He plucks a book off the shelf and offers it for inspection. You feel awkward reading it the summary thoroughly, especially when you can feel his eyes on you. But you skim it, it looks promising, and a hot guy just suggested it, so…
“Read a lot of romance?” you ask curiously.
He ducks his head a bit, endearingly shy. “A bit, yeah. Call me hopeless.”
You bite the inside of your cheek, but can’t help saying. “I think it’s just romantic.”
His eyes light up. “Yeah? And what kind of books d’you usually like?”
Before you know it, you’re talking thrillers and horror novels with him. Recommending your favorite spooky novel and then following up that you always read a comedy afterwards as a palette cleanser.
You end up touring each other around the shop, talking books and authors and genres. Yet you’re somehow surprised when he asks if you’d like to sit with him. But you agree, a little thrill in your stomach that you haven’t felt since… a while.
You each buy a stack of books, then claim a booth and proceed to read none of them. He tells you his name is Kyle, that he’s in the military but on leave right now, stocking up on entertainment for flights or long spans of hurrying up and waiting.
You’ve never met a military guy before, and you trip over your curiosity. Trying not to pry but interested in what he does. He’s polite and patient, admitting there are a lot of things he can’t tell you but he’ll answer. You don’t stay on the subject long, figuring the last thing he wants to talk about it work.
He gets you back in the department of uncomfortable topics when he notices the ring on your finger. You’re quick to explain the situation, hot with shame all over again, eyes stinging despite yourself.
Instead of mocking you or just getting up and walking away, Kyle sits back looking flabbergasted.
“That’s fucking mental,” he says, “excuse me for saying.”
You burst into laughter. Haven’t told anyone any of this out of embarrassment, but hearing someone on your side is… good.
“I thought so too, but… he’s happy,” you admit.
Kyle frowns. “What about you?”
You blink, can’t look him in the eye. You know the answer but make a show of thinking about it.
“I’d… like to be again. This — the open relationship thing — seems to be working for him. So… maybe it’ll work for me too?” You shrug. “Worth a try.”
Kyle reaches across the table, a big warm hand enveloping yours. There are callouses you’re not expecting. Tantalizingly different.
“Would you like to try it with me?” he asks. “Don’t have to put a label on it or anything. But my schedule is a bit… it’s hard to keep up a traditional relationship, you know? But I like you, and I think your fiance is a knob.”
You snort, but flip your hand around, thumb brushing over his.
“Yeah…” you muse, and after saying it, a surge of confidence infuses you. “Yeah, I’d like to try this with you.”
His smile is absolutely brilliant. You won’t admit — not even to yourself for a long time — but you fall in love a little right then and there.
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ipseitydelrey · 5 months
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Sei!! I'm obsessed with your writing!
Since your requests are open... I was thinking maybe.... NSFW alphabet with Reid? 👀
aaaa thank you so much !!
nsfw alphabet ☆ spencer reid
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ship spencer reid x afab!reader
warnings smut, use of protection (wrap it before you tap it, kiddos!!), p in v penetration (i feel like this goes w/o saying), oral (m and f receiving), hair pulling, mutual masturbation, wet dreams, teasing, sex toys, he’s self-conscious :(, slight mention of what cat adams did (only implied), also he’s bi <3
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A = aftercare (what are they like after sex?)
it’s quite possible that spencer loves aftercare more than actual sex. he’s so enthusiastic about taking care of you; he’ll get food and water, run a bath, cuddle, etc.
B = body part (their favourite body part of theirs and of yours)
although he’s pretty self-critical about his looks, he does like his hair. his hairstyle changes frequently so he always appreciates it when you compliment him or you run your fingers through his hair.
spencer probably feels awful that this is his favourite part of your body, but he loves your boobs. no matter the size or shape, he lives resting his head on your chest like it’s a pillow.
C = cum (anything to do with cum)
either in you or in a condom. he doesn’t really like it when it gets everywhere. although, if he does end up cumming anywhere else (like on your stomach or face, etc.), he will definitely try to clean it up quickly.
D = dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)
it’s not too much of a secret but it still sort of counts: spencer has wet dreams about you. since you also sleep in the same bed, during those dreams, he would subconsciously rut against your leg and moan in his sleep. so far (at least to your knowledge), this has only happened once because you woke up to him doing it. you both are aware of this fact, but spencer isn’t aware that you know. you haven’t told him because you don’t wanna embarrass the poor guy.
E = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)
with women, very little; not even sex or second base, at most he has made out and gotten his shirt off but that’s it (we’re not including cat adams in this discussion of course). with men though? he’s not a virgin, so he does have some experience.
although if we’re counting what he knows through books and articles, then in theory he would be amazing in bed.
F = favourite position (this goes without saying)
if he’s on top, he loves missionary. the position gives him the opportunity to kiss you while he thrusts into you; he loves the romance and intimacy of it too.
if he’s bottoming, then he likes it when you ride him, especially if you’re facing towards him. he can still kiss you — giving him his much needed intimacy — and he loves to watch the way your chest heaves as you bounce on him. fondling your boobs is an added bonus! another position he loves is when you fuck him with your tits. that one doesn’t need an explanation.
G = goofy (are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)
he thinks he’s serious (he’s trying soooo hard, he wants it to be perfect) but he’s unintentionally goofy. usually during sex, he shares little tidbits about the benefits of an orgasm, or how eating pineapple can make cum taste like the fruit…and it’s hilarious. it doesn’t really bring you out of the moment, just makes you laugh.
H = hair (how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)
spencer has a mouth-watering happy trail. much like up north, down south it’s unruly, but can still be classified as well-groomed.
I = intimacy (how are they during the moment, romantic aspect...)
not much can be said, but expect tons of “i love you”s as he cums. he’s a romantic at heart, of course he wants some romance during sex.
J = jack off (masturbation headcanon)
he doesn’t masturbate a lot, maybe once or twice per two weeks at most; that’s if he’s not with you. in your presence is a whole other story. it was a bit awkward jerking off in front of you at first, but over time he’s come to love it (ngl kinda wanna write a drabble for this one).
K = kink (one or more of their kinks)
why do you think he keeps his hair long? it’s just begging to be pulled! seriously, during a makeout session, you got a little curious and your hand trailed to the back of his head and you gave his hair a lil tug. the result? an involuntary moan. and as mentioned before, mutual masturbation is on the table.
L = location (favourite places to have sex)
he believes any sort of sexual intimacy should be confined to the bedroom. he values his privacy and he doesn’t want to risk getting caught in the middle of having sex by anybody.
M = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
you being smart, especially when you teach him something new (which doesn’t happen often but when it does, he’s so turned on). that’s pretty much it. genuinely loves it when you correct someone else, or if you work with him in the BAU, when you realize something about a particularly hard case that causes a breakthrough.
N = nope (something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
doesn’t want to hurt you in anyway shape or form. it’s likely that later in your relationship, when you trust each other more, you both might experiment with biting or spanking, but that’s as far as he’s willing to go. sensory deprivation (especially with blindfolds) are also a no.
O = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
he’s so different, yet so similar when both giving and receiving oral; he doesn’t have a preference.
if he’s giving, then he’s giving. at first, he wasn’t too good at it (you had to keep giving him pointers and tell him what you like and don’t like, but he has the basics down), but over time, he does get the hang of it. in short, his tongue has other uses than just rambling about statistics.
if he’s receiving, it is the hottest thing you have seen and heard. he gets so flushed in the cheeks and so sweaty, his hair starts to stick to his forehead as he’s panting. and the noises? the noises he produces makes you want to rut against the bed, the couch, his leg, wherever you can.
P = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
if he’s bottoming, he does like it when you go fast, especially if he’s pent up (and maybe has been edged for a while too). but if he’s on top, then he loves to go slow. although most of the time, he’ll go whatever pace you want him to go.
Q = quickies (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)
he doesn’t like quickies, especially early in your shared sexual life. he does prefer to take his time and not have any interruptions and the like, but quickies are bound to happen with how many cases there are.
R = risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)
this is a man of science we are talking about; of course he’s game to experiment in the bedroom. with his limited experience (especially with women), he doesn’t know exactly what he likes and doesn’t like. but as for risks, almost never. the closest he’ll probably get to fucking in public is in a motel/hotel. he doesn’t want to get caught in such a compromising position.
S = sexts (yes? no? pictures?)
he doesn’t really understand why people would sext when they could just A. say it to their partner directly or B. just call and listen to their voice. he understands why people send nudes even less; he doesn’t want to take pictures of himself in that way, or even risk sending them. the technophobia is real with this man.
T = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
doesn’t own any, but he isn’t vehemently opposed to using them (either on you or him) if you own some.
U = unfair (how much they like to tease)
spencer doesn’t really like to tease so much as he likes to be teased. it gets him all riled up, especially if you tease him in public. as long as the teasing is masked well, he’s all for it.
V = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make)
the way this man moans is symphonic, it’s mind boggling. he is loud, his noises can reverberate through the room. he doesn’t just moan, he’s got a whole arsenal of sounds; whimpers, whines, cries, etc.
W = wild card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
the first time he got hard in front of you was a complete accident and he was so embarrassed, rapidly spitting out apologies and slight self-deprecating comments. you tried to calm him down - which sort of worked, thankfully - and asked if he wanted help with it. the event didn’t escalate into full-on sex, but hands were enough for him and you both.
X = x-ray (dick size)
like him, his cock isn’t particularly girthy, but it’s long, definitely above average. in fact, it’s long enough that you could still feel the aftershocks of it even when it’s been a day.
Y = yearning (how high is their sex drive? how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last...)
the man is so touch-starved that at this point, any form of intimacy would be near too much for him. so, his sex drive would probably be high, but he would still only be able to go maybe one or two rounds. later in your relationship, he might be able to go longer than that.
Z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
spencer is the type of guy to feel sleepy after sex, even if he cane only once. the activity takes a lot out of him, but he would still prioritize you first before himself. after he does his whole aftercare routine, he’s out like a light. this could be different if he has a migraine, in which case he’ll probably be up for a couple more hours (yay insomnia).
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venusbby · 1 year
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characters/pairings: itoshi sae x reader
warnings: fluff. the reader is an avid reader lmao so funny. sort of clingy sae? annoyed sae? just sae. maybe ooc too but idrc.
note: self indulgent because i've been reading this one book nonstop for the past week and can't think of anything else. wondered how sae would act with a reader who likes to read a lot like me lol this is lowkey bad forgive me sorry for typos
🌊 summary: sae starts to get annoyed because you won't stop reading your book. (and also because you won't give him your attention, but that's a secret— that isn't as well kept as he thinks it is.)
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"y/n," sae muttered. he watched you with a glare, noticing how you had heard him clearly yet still ignored him, continuing to smile to yourself with your bottom lip between your teeth. he rolled his eyes, trying again, this time resting his hand on your thigh. his fingers impatiently tapping against the soft skin.
"y/n."
no response. you even giggled as you read the lines in that book you had been attached to all day long. that little 600 page romance book that entertained you so much more than he could— what the hell was it even about?
sae knew you loved books. you visited the library nearby almost every week, and he couldn't even decide if it was because the lady there was so nice to you or because you wanted to get away from him. there was no way he was that boring, right?
it was always sae who accepted all your amazon packages for the books that hadn't yet arrived in the library— and although the sight of your excited smile when he told you it was finally here was something, he never understood the hype at all.
why would he, when his sport was his all-time focus? books weren't ever as exciting to him as they were to you. so as long as you got any and every book you wanted (he made sure of that) he was alright.
but right now, sae had this urge to hide all your books from you.
especially this one.
because it stole you from him.
sae was annoyed. and he was even more annoyed that he started to think about hiding your books away from you like a madman, because it's fucking embarrassing that he's going borderline insane just because you haven't talked or even looked at him for the past two hours. and he's been in bed next to you this whole time.
he cursed under his breath and subtly thrashed around under the covers like a child who didn't get the toy he wanted. he shifted closer to you in the midst of his little quiet tantrum. "y/n. look at me."
"yeah?"
when you finally looked at him, it was as if he'd found oxygen.
and he hated it even more. why was he like this for you?
but then you went back to that book.
that stupid fucking book. again.
sae was going to cry.
fuck no, he wasn't. he won't. not ever. that's lame. so lame.
whatever. if you liked your book that much, maybe he should find something else to do too, he decided.
he turned around with his back to you and shut his eyes.
and then he heard another sigh. a dreamy one, at that.
"alright, enough. give me that." he jumped up from his sleeping position, grabbing the book from your hands. he didn't even know how to properly hold a book, but he didn't find it in himself to care as he shut it close, a breath of relief escaping from his mouth just as you started to whine.
"sae, no," you struggled, trying to get the book back, but you knew better than to fight against your boyfriend who was glaring at you like that with his lips pressed in a sad, thin line. his hair was still a little damp from the shower he took while you were just into the first 60 pages of the book. he swept his hair back, setting the book beside him, where you couldn't reach— atleast not without getting through him.
"i was almost done," you said slowly, trying your best to explain now that you were out of that world. "i promise, just gimme it now 'n i'll finish the first part in just 20 minutes."
sae scoffed. "fucking no."
he stared at the book placed near his side, literally judging it by its cover. "what's in this that has you giggling so much? some dude?"
you gasped, dramatically. "okay, he is not some dude. he is my husband."
"oi," sae groaned, things still not getting better for him even after that book had been closed and put away from you. "i'm sleeping next to you shirtless, and you've been giggling with your book husband?"
"you're always shirtless, though."
"that doesn't fucking matter." he retorted, huffing and looking to the side, chin up. you pursed your lips, placing a soft hand on his back, and leaning closer to leave a kiss on his shoulder. he always smelled so nice. he shook you off.
"baby, my sweet sae, if you wanted me to stop reading, you could have just said so." you smiled, watching him run another hand through his hair, his fingers pulling on his roots this time.
"first of all, i don't want your attention." he said blankly, finally looking at you. "and second, you ignored me when i said your name. guess you were too busy with your husband."
you laughed quietly, incredibly amused. about an hour ago, you were actually expecting sae to go back to sleep after showering— but for some reason, you were glad he didn't. this new side of him was so adorable that you never wanted it to end.
you sighed, lying back down, urging him to do the same. he listened as you explained, with you on your side facing him. "you know, i love this book a lot."
"i can see that."
so snarky. you resisted the urge to kiss his slightly puffed out cheek.
"it's really romantic. it's about the relationship of this newly married couple, how it develops day by day, and it's so cute. the main guy— my 'husband', is so good to the main character."
sae raised an eyebrow lazily, still opting to look at the ceiling and didn't respond. you weren't going to gain his attention this easily after that.
you went on. "and this guy reminds me of you. like, you guys are similar to an unhealthy extent. and the reason i was so invested in it was because there was a particular scene where things got a little hot."
"so?" he asked, still not convinced.
your cheeks were reddened from embarrassment. "so, whenever he said or did something, i thought of you. and that is why i was giggling."
sae turned to look at you. his eyes looked much more focused on your lips. he had forgotten how much he missed the feeling of kissing you. again, feeling another annoying pang in his heart because seriously, it had just been two hours. he had to stop acting like you'd been away for days.
"so basically you were having sex with 'book me' in your mind."
"oh god, no!"
"that's exactly it."
"you're so wrong."
"shut up, i'm right."
you groaned, covering your face with your palms and closing your eyes. you felt sae's arm slowly trailing around your stomach, him shifting closer until you could feel his breath fanning against your neck. you giggled out of nervousness and embarrassment, both. "that was not what was happening, okay?"
his lips twitched slightly at your state. "you know i'm way better than him."
"...are you, though?" you peeked one eye open, dragging out your words, guilty. fictional men were just different—
"ah, do you need proof?" he said, a smug look on his face as he began hovering over you. your laugh echoed through the room as you smacked his chest playfully, your arms going around his neck to pull him down on top of you.
"i don't need proof, thank you very much." you said softly with another laugh, letting sae rest his head on your chest. "but i wanna make it up to you for ignoring you. im sorry, my sae. i'll be better. you were just really cute."
"don't do it again," he said, staring up at you from his comfortable position. "or else you might have to go back to your 'husband'."
"i won't really mind— wait, baby, don't go! i was joking!"
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taglist: @hyomagiri @yoimyas @beanxiv @hqfeatbetty @shuvvloverrr 🤞🤪
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sunderwight · 2 months
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Okay, concept:
Luo Binghe grew up very poor prior to arriving to QJP. And when he first got to QJP, he was ostracized and neglected. So there are probably a lot of phrases, terms, and ideas that he didn't know were things until SY arrived and started actually teaching him. Right? So the bulk of what he did learn, he learned directly from Shen Yuan's own slightly messy attempts to fake ancient scholarly credentials.
Plus, QJP is supposed to be the peak of scholars and well-read, fancy intellectuals, and YQY probably also doesn't know shit about most of that stuff (having also been a former illiterate street child) and of course is incredibly predisposed to take Shen Qingqiu's side on virtually anything. Especially something frivolous or linked to their shared past, such as someone, say Qi Qingqi, accusing Shen Qingqiu of making up a literary reference or "gibberish" word. If something Shen Qingqiu says is something no one else seems to know, that just proves he's more worldly and well-read than the rest of his peers. Also, Shang Qinghua will probably know it, and despite his many (many) character flaws, Shang Qinghua reads a lot too. There's really very little to convince a former street child turned Demon Emperor whose former education began and ended with Shen Qingqiu specifically and Meng Mo (wildly out-of-touch with human culture anyway) to suspect that some of the difficult-to-source references his master makes really have no worldly source (in this world).
So Luo Binghe, in his quest to become as knowledgeable of all things about his shizun and keep up with him as well as possible, and maybe also put down some arguments he's overheard once and for all, eventually gets annoyed because CLEARLY there is a wealth of cultural knowledge contemporary to Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua that didn't survive to his own generation. His efforts at hunting down all the sources being referenced and origins of certain philosophical ideas or terminology keep coming up empty in certain departments. He's been over the entire QJP library with a fine-tooth comb, but QJP focuses on things pertaining to cultivation, history, and knowledge. Obviously, there are gaps. The archives are unlikely to keep pop cultural references and lowbrow literature, and Luo Binghe begins to suspect (from what tastes his master seems to share with his shishu) that that is that actual source he's missing.
The trashy yellow books and romance literature of their generation! Bawdy poems and lewd artworks so on! Heck, that's probably even where the shared "code" (bad English) comes into play -- disciples are always trying to sneak forbidden material past their teachers and smuggle naughty books into the dormitories. Knowing Shizun and Shang Qinghua, Luo Binghe honestly wouldn't be surprised if the two of them were racketeering that shit in their own disciple days. Shang Qinghua acquiring materials, Shen Qingqiu acquiring buyers, both of them making their extra spending money off of secretly supplying Cang Qiong's population with contraband fiction and art.
Also, that would explain why both Shen Qingqiu and Shang Qinghua get flustered and refuse to elaborate if someone asks them what this or that strange turn of phrase refers to. Shen Qingqiu has a very thin face for actually discussing erotica, and Shang Qinghua doesn't like being caught doing illegal shit.
Luo Binghe desperately needs access to trash lit that's older than he is. However, most of that stuff is not printed to last, and turning it up is like trying to find old Spirk zines without the internet.
Shang Qinghua, the obvious go-to source, also seems to not really have anything that old anymore (intimidating him is laughably easy, if he had anything he would have coughed it up by the second or third time Luo Binghe asked and frowned at the same time), and if Shen Qingqiu did have anything he wouldn't want to be questioned about it. Asking too much might even get it destroyed in an act of excessive embarrassment.
Which means there is just one other person Luo Binghe knows who might be able to lead him to some sources. One other person he is absolutely, 100% certain was extensively reading trashy literature around the same time that Shizun was a young man. Someone who would know where to go to even begin looking for it.
Luo Binghe is going to have to ask Tianlang Jun for help with something.
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milswrites · 2 months
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The Bat Boys X Bookworm!Reader
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Summary: What the Bat Boys (and Eris & Lucien) are like with their bookworm partners
Warnings: Lil smutty and nsfw (not too much just want to cover myself) so 18+ MDNI
Notes: Just a bit of fun really, it's different to what I usually write but I hope you guys like it!
Rhysand
Rhysand loves you
And if loving you means that he has to feed your obsession with buying books?
Then he would happily clear out all the bookshops in Velaris if it meant getting to see you smile.
Rhysand is rich-rich.
Which means if there's something you want? He'll buy it for you without question.
You once mentioned about how much you'd love your own library one day.
So of course by the end of the week you had your own little haven inside Rhysand's house with more books than you could ever dream of reading and your own little ladder to reach them all.
But he didn't stop there.
For your mating gift he purchased you your very own library in Velaris
In which Rhys may or may not have enacted his fantasies of sleeping with a Librarian.
Whilst Rhysand does like to read, his taste in books is very different to your own.
But even though he doesn't read the books you do, he's more than happy to sit and listen to you talk about your favourite ones for hours if that meant being able to see your eyes light up as you talked about something you loved.
But no books nor libraries could top the best gift he had ever given you.
A hand-written book containing the story of your relationionship.
Complete with crude little comments and drawings the High Lord had scribbled down in the margins.
Rhysand loved history.
So what better way to preserve his undying love for you than in-between the pages of a book which would last forever.
Cassian
Cassian had never been very interested in books.
He'd much rather experience the thrill of real fighting and action in person than spend his time reading about it on some dusty old pages.
In fact the only time Cassian had been in a library he had the terrifying encounter with Bryaxis.
Safe to say that the trauma he experienced was the perfect excuse for never stepping in one again.
Until he met you.
Cassian has always been the type of guy who's all in or nothing.
He discovers the person he has a crush on likes reading?
You know he's going to be walking around with books he's never even opened pretending like he is a well-read Illyrian.
Citing quotes he doesn't even understand just to try and impress you.
And once you're together?
You show Cassian exactly what he's missed out on when it comes to reading.
Especially when it comes to getting tips for your bedroom activities.
For months after you revealed to him the wonders that are smut books, Cassian would spend his free time delving through the pages looking for new ideas on how to spice up your sex life.
Claiming his increased interest in reading was due to 'research purposes'
Cassian is 100% down to roleplay characters from your novels
He loves being the big strong hero to your damsel.
Whenever Cassian catches you reading, happily curled into the comfort of your sofa, he'll approach with a smirk on his lips
"Any new tricks you'd like to try out? I think page 69 is worth a shot."
Azriel
Azriel's a busy guy.
He's always away on missions for Rhysand or working in the dungeons of the Court of Nightmare's
So he can be forgiven if when he comes home, reading is the last thing on his mind.
But what he does enjoy though, is when you read to him.
He can lay with his head in your lap for hours.
Humming along to whatever tale you tell whether it's fantasy, romance or a good thriller
Sometimes he'll even offer his input. Laugh when something especially funny happens or shed a tear whenever a character he likes died.
Azriel loves the sound of your voice
Enjoying the way you put on voices whenever a character is speaking.
He's grown to like the sense of domesticity that he feels whenever you read to him. Allowing himself to imagine you doing this to two little Illyrian babies of your own.
Reading to your wide eyed children as they are gripped by the tales you're telling
Azriel is also a gentleman.
Need a hand with carrying the books you're choosing whilst you shop?
He's there
Hands willingly taking everything you stack on top of him, trailing after you with your selections like a lost puppy.
And when you get to the till?
Azriel had already spoken to the shopkeeper upon entry and added anything you chose to his account. Claiming the books were just as much his as they were yours if you were going to read them to him.
Azriel is definitely the type of male who likes you to read your smut to him as he pleasures you, acting out the words on the page until you're unable to speak anymore, leaving the rest of the chapter to your own imagination.
Eris
Eris is a reader.
He loves nothing more than to settle down after a long day with a good book in hand and a steaming tea.
You can't tell me he doesn't find it the hottest thing ever when he discovers you like to read too
The two of you have your own little book club
You'll each read the same book and then have a little meeting when it's over to discuss what you thought of it.
He can also get really emotional and intense about them.
God knows the amount of times you've had to calm him down when a character has made a choice he didn't like.
I think Eris definitely likes to write too
Not seriously, but it's a good way for him to get his thoughts out and to escape from the day to day of his reality.
And he loves to have you read his work
To see the way your face lights with joy as your eyes flick through his beautiful prose.
A small smile upon his lips at the knowledge that the muse for his writings was you.
Lucien
Lucien also likes to read.
But the way you read?
It terrifies him.
The way you obsess over the characters from your stories.
Your passionate opinions on their decisions and the plots.
God forbid Lucien says something about them that you don't agree with.
Lucien finds you positively feral when it comes to the stories you like.
But that doesn't stop him from wanting to show interest in them too.
Lucien likes to read all your favorite books and leave annotations of his thoughts in the margins.
This was exactly how the two of you had gotten together, the male having gifted you with a copy of a book he had noticed you reading.
The pages filled with scratchy comments and opinions on everything that happened.
Lucien pours his soul into his annotations and you love that.
Lucien is also a poetry man.
He loves to recite verses to you which stick out to him
Sometimes they were romantic, making your heart stop in your chest and breath catch in your throat.
But Lucien was also a fan of satirical poetry
The most ridiculous, corny things you have ever heard.
He'll come find you as you're going about your day and recite his latest read to you - your eyes rolling to the back as you did so, yet you fail to hide the smile which crosses your face every time he does so.
He has also tried to write you poetry before, express the depth of his feelings towards you. Safe to say his lame attempt of a limerick earnt him a scoff and had you hiding all his poetry books from him for the next month.
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fyorina · 26 days
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ᡣ𐭩 I, CARRION
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FEATURING: beast dazai osamu
SUMMARY: the day of the event has arrived and dazai is second guessing everything, but it's too late for him to back out now.{wordcount: 12k; fem!reader; romance & tragedy}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: PART FOUR wow guys we're really getting into the meat of the fic now. HAHAH this is the chapter i had to split into two parts, initially it was going to be one big one but then it would've been a whopping 23k words and that's a bit much even for me. i didn't want to cross the 20k realm HAHAHH. anyway, this chapter really was a pleasure to write, the second scene was my favorite but the ending was SOOOO close to usurping it
GENERAL WARNINGS: again, i'll just leave this warning on every chapter - dazai struggles a lot with disassociation/derealization & losing himself in the pages of the book. as always please let me know if i forgot any warnings
SEE: UNREAL UNEARTH SERIES MASTERLIST READ: BADLANDS SIDE A
“Gin-chan, I’m so nervous.” 
You pace around Dazai’s penthouse anxiously, twisting your fingers in front of your body. The event is taking place tomorrow night. You still don’t have an outfit for it—Dazai told you not to worry about it, you’re still worrying about it because what does that even mean? You don’t know what to expect from the event, and Gin is evasive when you ask her about what will happen, just keeps telling you that it’ll be fine as long as you stay with Dazai.
“There’s no reason to be nervous,” Gin says, as she always does, still tapping away at her laptop. Glasses hang off the bridge of her nose and there are dark circles beneath her eyes. You feel a bit ashamed about constantly going on about your nerves when you know damn well she, Dazai and all of the other executives of his company have been working nonstop the past few days trying to finish preparations. “Dazai-san will be with you the whole time, and if he has to talk business, someone will sit with you until he can get back so you’re not feeling awkward.”
Somehow, you think that might be even more awkward because you doubt a random person is going to want to babysit you while Dazai is busy, but you don’t voice your thoughts, instead just withering as you circle the large room for the sixth time in the past five minutes. 
You’ve hardly seen Dazai all week. You don’t really mind, you know he’s swamped with work and you’ve been keeping yourself busy going out cafe hopping and shopping. Gin comes with you when she can, but it’s usually Nakajima Atsushi or Tachihara Michizo that joins you—Gin had introduced you to the two security guards a week ago when she’d been too busy to come with you to a cafe downtown. You don’t mind the company but you can’t help but wonder why Dazai is so insistent that someone comes with you.
Well. You can’t help but wonder about a lot of things, really. You’re pretty certain that Dazai is still hiding something major from you. You don’t know a lot about business, and you especially don’t know anything about his business, but something isn’t right. You’re not stupid and everyone is not as slick as they think themselves to be, you see how tense and anxious people get when you mention him to them, more so than the average worker would be at the mere mention of their boss, and everyone in the entire damn building is armed, even though they clearly try to hide it whenever you’re in the area. 
You and your friends have joked about the uber wealthy before, and how no one above a certain tax bracket obtains their wealth without some sort of blood money; you’re about 99% sure that’s what’s taking place here too, and it would certainly explain all of the secrecy. More so than trade secrets at least, you feel a bit dumb for that to have even been an explanation in your mind. You just don’t know the specifics. You don’t know if you want to know the specifics, you think you’d prefer to remain ignorant because 1) you definitely don’t want to have any sort of culpability, not when you’re on path to graduate school and hopefully a very prestigious job with the government, and 2) … you don’t want to face the reality of what that would mean. 
You like Dazai. More than like him. You’ve been slowly coming to terms with the fact that you really, truly care for him, and if you end up learning the… specifics of his job, then you’re going to be forced into making a decision you don’t want to make: preserving your future and morals or risking them for him. And you’re not going to sit around and claim to be some upstanding, virtuous person. You’re not. But you are ambitious, and you’ve had your mind set on your future since you learned how to pick up a pen and write. You’ve worked your entire life to get where you are now, slaved your way through a prestigious undergraduate school in Japan and spent months preparing for the entrance exams for graduate school, only to what? Throw it all away for some man?
God, you almost feel sick. Distantly, you wonder how awful of a person you must be for the threat to your future success to be the main reason why you’re questioning yourself, and not the fact that it’s very likely that Dazai and his conglomerate have some sort of business with Japan’s underground, maybe even direct dealings with the mafia itself. 
You pause from where you’re pacing around the room, eyes widening a bit as another realization hits you. You had thought it was odd that Dazai and Gin and all of the executives of the conglomerate have been so stressed and anxious over an event that they’re not even hosting, but what if… Your throat spasms a bit as you swallow, wondering if Dazai is about to bring you not to an event hosted by their rival, but to an event hosted by the mafia. You don’t think he would put you in danger like that, you don’t want to think he would put you in danger like that and you wonder if you’re just sending yourself down a spiral of unnecessary paranoia. 
But it doesn’t make sense. Dazai is enamored by you, and you don’t think you’re being conceited by saying that because he has made it abundantly clear. There’s no way he would ever put you in danger like that. Not unless… you feel a bit green remembering his reaction to you saying that you’d go out on your own and stay with your friend the weekend of the event. You could feel the anxiety radiating off of him for a split second before he asked you to come with him. You also remember how he always makes sure someone is with you when you go out, and god, you swear you’re not a conspiracy theorist but nothing is making sense when you look at it through your rose-tinted lenses but looking at it through these lenses. The lenses of a man who is obviously smitten with you, and who might have dealings with the mafia—of course he wouldn’t want you to go out on your own because he’d be scared that you might be targeted as a means to get to him.
Oh, you feel dizzy. What have you gotten yourself into?
“Are you okay?” Gin is looking up at you, brows furrowed in concern. “You look a little sick.”
“I’m fine,” you say, but the words sound pathetic even to your own ears and you know Gin doesn’t believe you from the way she tilts her head to the side to study you.
Luckily, you’re saved by the bell. Literally. 
Your head snaps to the side as the elevator dings, and ordinarily, you would be ecstatic because who else would be coming up to the penthouse besides Dazai and while you’ve certainly missed him over the past week with how busy he’s been, you’re not sure if you’re ready to see him right now with the way your thoughts have just spiraled, because you think you might blurt something out that you can’t take back.
But, for better or for worse, it is not Dazai that enters the penthouse.
“Good morning, ladies,” a familiar voice croons as the elevator doors slide open. Your eyes light up as you whip around, eyes falling upon a face you haven’t seen in almost two weeks. “I come bearing gifts.”
“Albatross!” you say, excited, a smile splitting your face, because yes, even knowing about the possible affiliation with the mafia, you’re still excited to see the blonde—he’s never been anything but sweet to you, and he’s really the only one besides Gin and Chuuya who doesn’t treat you weirdly because of your relationship with Dazai. 
“D’aw, look at it, Lippmann, told you the doll would still remember me,” Albatross grins, dark glasses hanging on the bridge of his nose as he tosses you a wink and then looks back toward the elevator.
Your gaze follows his, and your eyes fall upon a vaguely familiar person stepping out of the elevator and into the penthouse, carrying a few boxes. Pale hair cut into a bob, a pretty, androgynous face, dressed to the nines in a light purple waistcoat and matching pants—where have you seen him before? Wait-
“You’re-!” you begin, eyes wide and lips parting in shock.
“Walter Lippmann,” the man greets you with a kind smile and soft eyes, you feel a bit flustered, you can hardly meet his gaze. “Everybody just calls me Lippmann though.”
You try to speak, but you’re a bit starstruck—the last thing you’d expected was for a movie star to step into the penthouse. You’re looking between Albatross and Gin and then hesitantly back at Lippmann as you try to figure out what’s going on. 
Albatross cackles. “Looks like she’s gotta crush, Lippmann. Better not let the boss find out, he’ll get jealous.”
“Albatross,” you complain, hands flying to cover your hot face. “Not true, I’m just surprised. Am I allowed to be surprised?”
“Yeah, sure, doll, that’s it,” Albatross says, clearly not believing you at all as he throws himself onto the couch next to Gin, looking up at you. “The boss asked us to pick up a dress for you. Go try it on, I’m going to raid his liquor cabinet while you do—if he asks, you better take the blame.”
You see Gin roll her eyes. “You will not raid his liquor cabinet, Albatross,” she says firmly, but the man only winks at her.
You turn your attention back to Lippmann, who’s carrying the dress in a garment bag, a shoe box tucked under his other arm. He gives you a small smile and then motions for you to follow him; you’re still starstruck as you follow him into Dazai’s bedroom, pointedly ignoring the way Albatross snickers. 
You watch as Lippmann hangs the garment bag up on the closet, placing the shoebox down on the bed. He turns toward you after and says, “Try it on and make sure it fits properly. And make sure you like it.”
You nod, lips parting to speak but no words leave your lips. You look up at the garment bag, down to the shoes, and back to Lippmann and then you ask, “How do you… how do you know Dazai?” 
Lippmann gives you another gentle smile, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. You notice, a bit curiously, that he seems to take a moment before he speaks, as if choosing his words carefully. 
“I knew Dazai’s father,” he says after a few seconds. “I work with the Mori Corporation sometimes regarding press and political matters. Like a spokesperson when Dazai is unable to.”
Hm, you think to yourself before nodding, a movie star as a spokesperson for a corporation, that’s a bit odd, isn’t it?
Your brows furrow slightly as you try to fit the new knowledge in with all of the rest you’ve put together over the past few weeks but it’s just another jagged puzzle piece that’s not fitting in anywhere.
“I’m a huge fan of your movies,” you finally tell him, rubbing the back of your neck as you toss him a sheepish smile. “Like, no joke, almost cried when you had your discussion panel for The Good Society three months ago because it was two days before my entrance exam to grad school so I couldn’t go.”
Lippman laughs, pale cheeks flushing as he looks down at the ground before back up at you. “Honestly, you didn’t miss out. The whole panel was a mess, and the AC broke twenty minutes before, so it was ridiculously hot.”
You don’t really know what to say to that, cursing the fact that you are 1) still half dazed on top of 2) already being naturally awkward, but Walter Lippmann is Walter Lippmann, so of course he knows just what to say and do.
He nods to the dress that he hung up on the closet. “Try it on and then give us a show,” he says, winking at you before he makes his way out of Dazai’s bedroom back into the other room with Albatross and Gin.
You sigh when you’re alone again, tilting your head up to look at the ceiling for a moment, wondering what your life has become before you make your way over to the dress. You unzip the garment bag, curious to see what Dazai had picked for you, and your eyes shoot open when you see the red gown within the bag. Smooth and silky, off-the-shoulder, it’s probably the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon; you feel like you shouldn’t even touch it, much less put it on. 
But Lippmann and Albatross and Gin are out there waiting, you can hear them talking through the door, so you force yourself to gingerly pull it off of the hanger, careful to not be too rough with the material. It doesn’t take you too long to get your clothes off and the dress on, but when you do, you can hardly bring yourself to move away from the mirror. 
You look beautiful. You do. The dress is a perfect fit, it compliments your skin, it compliments your hair. You look beautiful, but you feel like a fraud, like a clown in a ball gown, hoping that the beauty of the dress would draw attention from the fact that it’s not meant for someone like you. 
You don’t know how long you stand there, staring at your reflection. Too long, evidently, because you hear a sharp knock at the door and Lippman’s concerned voice asking if you’ve gotten the dress on.
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “I’m dressed.”
You hear the door to Dazai’s bedroom creak open but you don’t turn to look.
“I think this costs more than my student loans,” you breathe out, staring at yourself in the mirror. You smooth your hands over the silky material, eyes catching the way it clings to you perfectly. “God, where the hell did he get something like this? It’s like it was made for me.”
“Probably was,” Lippmann says from where he’s leaning against the doorframe, lips quirked up into a half smile as he tosses you another wink. “Perks of dating one of the richest men in Japan.”
You let out a noise caught between a whimper and a laugh, suddenly feeling very, very out of place.
Lippmann clearly catches your sudden change in attitude and his brows furrow. “Do you not like it?” he asks curiously. “There’s plenty of time for him to send for something else.”
“No, no,” you hurry to say, voice catching. Although you’re unsure how twenty-hour hours constitutes ‘plenty of time’, but you digress. “It’s perfect. It is.”
“What’s the issue then?”
“I just…” you trail off, eyes lingering in the mirror. “I feel silly, I guess. How obvious is it that I’ve never worn anything like this before?” 
“Silly?” Lippmann asks, amused, peeling off the doorframe to make his way over to you. You swallow thickly as he straightens your posture and then uses two fingers to make you raise your chin. “You look stunning. Like a woman who belongs on the arm of the most influential man in Japan… Like a woman who doesn’t need to be on the arm of any man.”
Your face feels a bit hot as you let out a puff of laughter. “Now you’re exaggerating.”
“I certainly am not,” Lippmann says firmly, taking a step back. “You’re only getting in your head. From what Chuuya has told me about you, you’re more than suited to outwit and outclass anyone in attendance at that event.”
Your face feels hotter now, smiling as you roll your eyes. “Flatterer,” you say, but you feel a bit better, chest lighter as your gaze turns back to look at the mirror. “... Do you-”
A sharp whistle from the door draws your attention from Lippmann; there’s a lecherous smile on Albatross’s face as he leans against the frame and looks at you, glasses hanging off the bridge of his nose. “Damn, if you weren’t the boss’s girl…”
Gin slaps him hard on the back of his head, glaring at him before turning a small smile to you. “You look beautiful,” she says softly. “He’ll be speechless when he sees you tomorrow.”
Your throat feels tight as your lashes flutter, a smile on your lips as you look down at the ground. Even though the concerns of your realizations from before still weigh heavily in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a bit giddy at the thought of seeing Dazai tomorrow.
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The giddiness is long gone.
You still haven’t gotten dressed.
You’re sitting at the edge of Dazai’s bed in your bra and panties, staring at the wall with your knees pulled to your chest. Your dress is hanging on the closet on the far side of the room, heels sitting on the floor beneath it. You’ve done your makeup and you put your earrings on already—pretty, dangly diamonds that are the most expensive thing you own, the last thing your brother gifted you before he cut you off entirely. You need to be getting dressed, Dazai will be up here any second to pick you up to leave for the event, but you just can’t bring yourself to put the dress on, anxiety eating away at you.
It’s not even because of the realization you’d come to yesterday, it’s because you think you’re about to make a fool out of yourself. Even if you’re wrong about the theory that you might be heading into an event hosted by the mafia and their associates, you’re still heading into an event that’s going to be attended by people who are much wealthier than you, and you already feel out of place and you’re not even there. 
The dress is beautiful, but you think you’ll look like a clown in it, everyone will know that you’re not from the same sector of life as them with a single glance. Lippmann’s words from yesterday are in one ear out the other now that you’re closer to the actual time of the event.
You’re so lost in your thoughts that you don’t even hear the bing of the elevator arriving at the penthouse, and you don’t notice Dazai until he pushes open the cracked door to step into the bedroom. And you feel like you should be embarrassed sitting half naked on his bed, rather than being dressed and waiting for him, but you can’t muster it, eyes dragging up from the wall to land on his concerned expression. 
And he’s a sight, you think. He’s so handsome. Absently, you think he might be more handsome than the last time you saw him but you think that’s a bit ridiculous because he hasn’t changed at all. He’s wearing the same long black coat and burgundy scarf, but the sleek, dark suit he wears beneath it is different, more expensive than all of the others that he’s donned the past few months you’ve known him. 
His lips are turned downward as he approaches you, placing a blue box down on his dresser, dark eye soft with concern, and you also can’t help but notice that he still wears the bandages around the upper left side of his face, covering his eye. You want to know what’s beneath them desperately, but you can’t bring yourself to ask, hoping that he’ll show you on his own terms.
He stands in front of you, and you rest your chin on your knees as you stare forward, staring at his abdomen instead of looking up at his face. But he doesn’t let your gaze linger there, bringing his right hand to cup your cheek so he can gently lift your face upward, forcing you to meet his eyes. You can feel the rough edges of his bandages scraping against your skin, and you instinctively lean into his touch. You try to remind yourself of all of the realizations you’d come to yesterday, tell yourself to not be as at ease with him, at least have some semblance of your guard up, but you fail.
“What’s wrong?” he asks you softly, letting you lean into his touch as he brings his other hand up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Are you okay?”
And you feel selfish, you realize, as you try to figure out what to tell him. You can’t even fathom the amount of money he spent on your dress and the shoes, and here you are being a baby because you’re self conscious. You don’t even want to reply to him, so you try to turn your face away but he doesn’t let you.
“Tell me,” he says quietly. “I’ll fix it, whatever it is.”
“It’s silly,” you finally breathe out, averting your gaze to the ground as you let your eyes flutter shut, turning your face in his hand to kiss his palm before leaning back into it. “I’m being a baby, I’m sorry.”
“It’s not silly if it has you upset,” Dazai tells you, and he kneels down in front of you to catch your gaze again and briefly, you think it’s absurd that you have such a powerful man at your whims like this, kneeling before you, willing to do anything to make sure that you’re content and happy. It makes your throat swell a bit, those inferior feelings rising back to your chest with a vengeance, because what the hell did you do to deserve this? There’s nothing special about you. “Tell me what’s wrong, let me help.”
“I just don’t understand.” 
Oh my god, your voice cracks, you can feel your eyes go a bit misty, and instantly, Dazai’s concerned gaze is narrowing, as if trying to calculate what exactly is the source of your distress so he can remove it, and it only makes you want to cry more because what did you do to deserve all of this? 
If you’re right about all of the assumptions you made the other day, and Dazai is bringing you to this event even though by all means he should not because there’s likely going to be a lot of shady business occurring that could incriminate him and all of the other people at this event, then why? Why would he risk that just for a girl he met a few months ago? You can’t fathom it.
God, you know better than anyone the effects imposter syndrome can have on a person in school, but the last thing you expected was to be dealing with it in love too.
Love, the word makes your stomach churn because you do love him, you realize, as he stares up at you desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong so he can fix it. And how scary is that, considering only twenty-four hours ago you came to the realization that he’s very likely involved in the underground, in some way or another, and you had to come to terms with the fact that you’d have to choose between your future and a man. But he’s not just a man, he’s a man that you love in spite of everything you’ve put together.
A tear spills over your cheek and Dazai’s gaze becomes alarmed as he instantly wipes it away with his thumb before caressing your cheek gently. 
“What don’t you understand?” he presses quietly. “Talk to me.”
Where do you fucking start?
You want to cry even more but you force yourself not to, you can’t afford to let your makeup get anymore messed up than it already is. Instead you sniffle a bit and try to blink away the tears. 
“This,” you finally say, and your voice cracks again, you take a wet breath. Dazai’s lips part a bit, as if he wants to speak but he’s not sure what to say, brows furrowing. “There’s nothing special about me, Dazai, and I don’t understand why you’ve gone to the lengths that you have for me. Meeting me at that club every Friday as if you’re not always swamped with work, indulging me whenever I want to do things. You gave me a place to stay after only knowing me for a few weeks, gave up your own room, your own bed, so I could be comfortable while you slept at your desk. You’ve made sure people are always with me so I never get bored or lonely. You’ve given me literally everything I could possibly ask for and I’ve just been freeloading off of you for two and a half weeks now. Now, I’m going to go with you to this event and end up embarrassing you because I’m going to stick out like a sore thumb compared to everyone else there. They’ll know I don’t belong there and I just-”
You cut yourself off, and you want to avert your gaze from Dazai’s but you can’t bring yourself to. Instead, you watch as something akin to amusement flashes through his eye. He takes one of your hands into his and brings it up to his lips, eye sliding shut for a moment as he kisses your knuckles. You let out a shaky puff of air as his lips linger for a moment before he looks up at you again through his lashes.
“Let me help you get dressed,” he murmurs, and you look down at the ground now as you nod, letting him help you to your feet and lead you over to where the dress is hanging up on the closet door.
He pulls it off the hanger and guides you into it, pulling it up and adjusting it so that it covers you properly. He steps behind you, and you realize that he also has you standing in front of the floor length mirror set up on his closet door. You sniffle a bit again as you look at yourself in the mirror. 
Your makeup looks a bit smudged beneath your eye from the tears gathering at your lash line, but somehow, you still look beautiful. You think it’s only because of the dress, the way it clings to your body so nicely and brightens all of your features. You take in another shuddered gulp of air when you feel Dazai begin to zip up the back of your dress slowly, each brush of his fingers against your skin lights your nerves on fire, and once he finally has it zipped to the top, he kisses the nape of your neck, hands falling to your hips to caress them gently. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean back against him, his comforting hold settling your turbulent emotions.
“I met you at the club every Friday because you were the only relief I had from reality,” he finally says, resting his forehead on your shoulder as he holds you. “I indulged your requests because I was indulging in you myself. Every moment I spent with you, I allowed myself to be Dazai Osamu, the person, and not the… Not what I’ve had to become to keep this organization running.”
Your breath catches, lips parting at his words but no sound escapes them. He kisses the nape of your neck one last time before he moves to stand in front of you, kneeling down again as he grabs one of your heels and undos the buckle. You watch with bated breath as he lifts your left foot from the ground to kiss your ankle before sliding the heel on, deft fingers fasting the clasp. 
“I gave you a place to stay because I was selfish and I wanted you around more,” he sighs, resting his forehead against your knee now as he lingers there for a moment before moving on to repeat the process with your other foot, kissing your ankle and slipping the heel on. He continues, “Likewise, I have kept you surrounded by people because I have been desperately afraid that you’re going to get bored and want to leave because work leaves me little time to be around. Unfortunately, I’m not the generous person you’re making me out to be, I’m horribly self-serving and greedy, especially when it comes to you.”
He looks up at you now from where he’s kneeling in front of you, gaze searching your face. You want to reach out and cup his cheek, so you do, and immediately, he’s turning his face to kiss your palm just as you’d done to him before letting his eye slide shut as he leans into your touch, as if basking in it.
“I would give you anything you want,” he admits softly, keeping his gaze shut as he holds your palm against his face. “Anything. And if it was something outside of my reach, I would make it in my reach. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you, no lengths I wouldn’t go to and no lines I wouldn’t cross.”
You think your lungs might be burning, you don’t think you can breathe as you stare down at him, heart thudding in your swelling chest, tears building in your eyes again but this time not out of insecurity. Dazai finally rises to his feet after placing one last kiss upon your knuckles, and he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way over to the dresser where he’d placed the blue box. 
You don’t move, watching as he opens it and pulls something out before making his way back over to you, standing behind you. He looks at you through the mirror as he lifts his hands to place a glittering diamond necklace upon your collarbone. You can’t breathe again, you realize, it’s cool against your skin and you think it might be the most expensive thing you’ve ever laid your eyes upon, dozens upon dozens of white diamonds shimmering in the mirror in front of you. Your skin feels like it’s on fire as his fingers brush the nape of your neck as he clasps it onto you. 
“You are beautiful,” he says, voice so raw that you almost shiver at the intensity of it. His fingers brush your hips as if he’s afraid to touch you. “You are beautiful, and intelligent, and everything I have ever wanted. You deserve so much more than me, more than you’ll ever be able to understand, and I’m sorry that I’m not a good enough man to do what’s right and let you go. The last thing you should ever be doubting is this.”
His eye slides shut again as he lets out a soft puff of air, the warmth fans across the back of your neck and you think you could spend forever in this moment with him, wishing that you could freeze time. 
“You said that you thought it was fate that brought us together,” he finally finishes, voice quiet as he references what you told him the first time you met. “Don’t ever doubt your place with me. Wherever I am, you belong, whether it’s a club, or an apartment, or an event.”
“I thought you hate the idea of fate,” you say, voice a bit choked as you try to force the tears back again.
“I do,” he affirms, “but if fate brought us together, then far be it from me to deny the one thing in this world that has ever made me happy.”
You love him.
You feel sick to your stomach—be it from butterflies or the implications of the realization. The words threaten to burst from your lips but you swallow them, instead, another tear trails down your face and he sees it through the mirror, lifting his hand to wipe it away before leaning a bit over your shoulder to press his lips to your jaw.
“I’m ruining my makeup,” you rasp, letting out another shaky breath.
He smiles against your skin.
“You’ll be beautiful still,” he murmurs before pulling back, admiring you for a moment before he asks: “Are you ready to go?”
You nod. “Yeah,” you say, a bit breathless. “I’m ready.”
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“Everyone is staring at us.”
You’re not wrong, exactly. As soon as the two of you had entered the room, all attention was sent your way, and though the music was loud enough to drown out most chatter (intentional, of course, so unsavory ears can’t overhear even more unsavory dealings), Dazai couldn’t help but notice the hush that spread through the room at the sight of you. The boss of the Port Mafia with a date on his arm was certainly a sight to behold to all of the rest of the occupants of the event hall,.
“Can you blame them? You look beautiful,” he says, voice laced with a teasing edge that is certainly not matched in his expression. Dazai knew people would be looking at you if he brought you here. Still, he wants to gouge their eyes out. 
His arm tightens around you as he tucks you into his side, cold gaze sweeping across the massive event hall. At least two hundred people are attending Nabokov’s event—an even mixture of pharmaceutical tycoons, technology barons, politicians and mafiosos. 
At first glance, he recognizes four different mafias in attendance. 
Mishima Yukio of the Sun and Steel stands by one of his associates, the president of Mitsubishi Chemical Group; the man’s dark eyes card over Dazai with lazy interest, before his head tilts to the side as he studies you.
Dazai thinks that the Sun and Steel might be the Port Mafia’s only allies in attendance, and even then, allies might be taking it too far. The extent of Dazai’s dealing with Mishima was a general agreement to not encroach the Sun and Steel’s monopoly over the narcotics industry—which Dazai never intended on doing anyway because the industry is far more trouble than it's worth—and an unspoken promise to protect Japan’s underground from foreign mafias. 
Dazai wonders if that unspoken promise still holds or if the Russians have cut a deal with him. 
Nabokov’s Pale Flame, obviously, is in attendance, along with the remnants of Leo Tolstoy’s Three Deaths. Tolstoy himself is sitting at the bar, a glass of whiskey in hand as he leans back on the stool, gaze focused on you. Nabokov is off to the left, making his way across the room to greet Dazai, a curious expression on his face. Dazai recognizes Cao Xueqin of the Red Chamber sitting near Kitazawa Michihiro of Fuji Electric, one of the Port Mafia’s closest associates; and Dazai thinks that might be a bit foreboding, both because of the presence of the Chinese and the company he’s keeping.
Dostoevsky’s House of the Dead is nowhere to be seen, but Dazai knows that they’re here. Somewhere. He just has to find him—and he will.
More eyes are on you than him, and although that was to be expected, Dazai can’t fight the doubt that suddenly swirls in his chest, wondering if he’d made the right decision. If you hadn’t been on people’s radar already, you definitely are now, and the thought makes him a bit sick to his stomach. He tries to console himself with the fact that this was the lesser of two evils—the mere chance of you being on the radar of any of the mafias in this room, no matter how slim it might be, was not something he could gamble with. There was no way he could let you go out alone and unprotected. People like them, people like him, would jump on the chance to take advantage of the weakness and he couldn’t let that happen. 
But is this really any better? 
He’s thrown you into a pit of snakes, and you’re ignorant to all of the threats around you. His gaze drifts back down to you, catching the way your brows are knit together slightly, the way your lips are pressed in a thin line. There’s an indecipherable look in your eyes as your gaze shifts over the room, and Dazai wonders if you know more than you’re letting on. That’s another scary thought, but he can at least find comfort in it for now because it’ll have you keeping your guard up around these people. He’ll just have to deal with the consequences later.
He dips his head down to your ear, speaking quietly before Nabokov finally reaches him: “Just follow my lead, you’ll be fine.”
The look you shoot at him is nothing short of withering, and Dazai can’t help the smile that curves at the corners of his lips as he lifts his head back up to subtly brush his lips against your temple. He catches sight of movement from the corner of his eye and any softness that might’ve been visible in his expression washes away instantly.
“Dazai,” Nabokov greets, beady eyes flickering between you and Dazai, partially curious about you and partially nervous about Dazai. Dazai tilts his head to the side, becoming increasingly more unamused the longer Nabokov’s gaze lingers on you. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologize for not being able to attend our planned meeting a few months ago.”
“So I heard.” Dazai’s voice is short and distant, more focused on the feeling of you tucked into his side than the conversation at hand. He has to force himself to keep his gaze steady on Nabokov, wanting to look down at you, but he contents himself with letting his hand slide down to your hip, rubbing absent circles against the silky material of your dress. 
Nabokov fumbles over Dazai’s clipped response, a bead of sweat gathering at the corner of his forehead. He wishes he could peer into your head and see what you’re thinking, about him, about this, about everything. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to get through the night without you realizing who he is, what he is, and that thought scares him because he thinks that maybe he should have been the one to explain it to you, so he could at least try to paint himself in a better light. Although, he’s not sure what sort of light would make anything about him look better.
“Who is this?” Nabokov finally asks, turning his attention toward you. Dazai doesn’t like the way he looks at you, eyes raking over you like you’re a piece of meat.
“My partner.” To Dazai’s credit, his voice is much smoother than the turbulent emotions in his chest would suggest. “Where is your wife, Nabokov?” 
Nabokov doesn’t even respond to the question, laughing loudly. “Never thought I’d see the day you found yourself a lover, Dazai,” he chuckles and then holds his hand out to you. “Vladimir Nabokov.”
You shift a bit to take his hand, but Dazai is faster, lithe fingers wrapping around Nabokov’s wrist in an agonizingly tight grip. Nabokov winces, Dazai’s face is cold as he stares down at the man.
“Keep your hands to yourself,” he warns, keeping his voice low. 
Vladimir Nabokov. Invitation to a Beheading. An ability that grants its user to draw a target into an interdimensional space through physical touch—Dazai isn’t sure what the space entails because no one has ever left it alive.
Nabokov tries to laugh it off, weaker this time as he takes his hand back and shakes out his wrist. “My, Dazai, possessive, aren’t you?”
“Very,” Dazai agrees idly. “Be sure to remember that.”
Nabokov gives him another wavering smile, and Dazai can’t help but wonder how Dostoevsky could have possibly thought anyone would believe the man could head the tripartite alliance of the Pale Flame, Three Deaths, and the House of the Dead. Anyone with half of a brain would know that Dostoevsky is behind their union. Maybe that’s what he wanted, Dazai notes absently as he watches Nabokov’s gaze flicker to the upper left corner of the room. Dazai follows it to where a camera is positioned, encompassing most of the event hall. 
The smile on his lips is nearly as chilly as the air-conditioned room around him.
There you are. 
Dazai’s gaze cuts back to Kouyou, who’s standing a few feet behind you and Dazai with Chuuya, Ace and Piano Man. The woman inclines her head in recognition of his silent order as she fans her face lightly, taking a step away to make a call to Hirotsu, who should be stationed around the building with the rest of the Black Lizards by now, prepared to move in at the first sign of danger.
Nabokov looks as if he’s going to speak again, which inclines Dazai to believe that he’s seeking something out in particular for Dostoevsky, and from the way he keeps glancing at you, Dazai assumes it has to do with you. So as the man's lips waver, eyes darting as he tries to formulate another conversation opener, Dazai speaks before he can get the words out.
“If you don’t mind,” he says, voice cold and clipped as he all but dismisses Nabokov, who flushes a bit, nodding and apologizing before stepping away. 
Dazai realizes that he probably has not prepped you enough for this event, but in his defense, he’s been swamped with his own preparations and how is he supposed to prepare you when he can’t even fully explain all of the dangers? But now, it’s making him anxious, because at some point tonight he’s going to have to step away from you to meet with Nabokov in one of the backrooms, likely with Tolstoy, Cao, and Mishima. Dazai’s executives will have to be there with him, and Tachihara is supposed to slip from the shadows to join you while you wait for his return, but there’s likely going to be at least a good two to three minutes where you’ll be alone until Tachihara can get to you. That’s assuming he doesn’t get caught up on the way over.
He needs to talk to you, at least warn you about the ability users attending the event so you don’t accidentally stumble into a potentially lethal situation without him around.
If he goes to the bar, Tolstoy will take advantage to try to sweep you into a conversation, picking up right where Nabokov left off. If he goes off to the left side of the room, Cao will make his way over to interrupt. If he goes off to the right side of the room, Mishima is there. The only place… Dazai inhales as his gaze focuses on the massive dance floor of the event hall, dozens of couples are spinning around already, and it will be loud enough there for the music to drown out his conversation with you from unwelcome listeners. 
He turns his attention to you, holding his palm up and tucking one arm behind his back as he asks lightly, “May I have this dance?” 
Your eyes widen a bit in surprise, seemingly hyper aware of all of the hungry, curious glances of the other attendants directed your way, but he’s only focused on you, and the way your eyes glitter beneath the chandelier’s lights, and the way your dress clings to your body, and the way a soft smile tugs at your lips. He thinks that even if you hadn’t entered the event on his arm, all of the room’s attention would be on you still, because you’re beautiful, and captivating, and Dazai doesn’t think he’ll ever understand how he managed to pull you in one lifetime, much less all of them. 
You place your hand in his and Dazai guides you across the floor, intent on finding the perfect space. It’s hardly obvious the way that the other people on the dance floor would inch away as the two of you passed by, intent on staying out of Dazai’s way and letting him have whatever space he wants, but you pick up on it, he thinks, seeing the curious look in your eyes as your gaze sweeps around the people around you. He bites back a sigh, because he’s sure that you’re tallying everything up in your head trying to put it all together, and once you get that final puzzle piece, everything will be over.
His chest sinks at the thought of losing you, but he forces it away. He has to focus on the situation at hand because even a single slip up could be fatal—not only for him, but for you too. As soon as he reaches a suitable spot on the dance floor, he tugs you a bit closer to him, hands sliding down to your waist. Your own arms instantly come up to loop around his neck as you look up at him through your lashes and Dazai suddenly feels breathless, vision tunneling and heartbeat stuttering at the way you look at him.
God, how is he supposed to focus with you around? He can hardly concentrate on anything but you. He’s flying too close to the sun. Has been since the moment he met you. Drawing you into his life and keeping you there, now bringing you here, so many gambles, too many gambles… the heat is scorching, and it’s only a matter of time before his wings burn. If he was smart, he’d let you go so that you don’t burn with him, but his fingers only bite deeper into your waist at the thought.
The music is slow, and the two of you sway in tune to it. The other couples give a wide berth, some casting wary looks at Dazai, ones that he’s sure you’re catching. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to start; what does he tell you that doesn’t condemn him? Luckily, he doesn’t have to start the conversation because you do, for better or for worse.
“Was that man the rival that Gin mentioned?” you ask curiously, and Dazai can’t help but notice there’s a strange look in your eyes as you ask it, one that he can’t place.
He hesitates, but then says, “No. He wasn’t. I haven’t seen him yet.”
You hum lightly, fingers toying with the hair at the nape of his neck in a way that makes him shiver. But his eyes narrow when he realizes that you don’t look the slightest bit surprised by his answer. 
“You knew that already,” he accuses lightly, and he forces himself to swallow the lump that suddenly forms in his throat because if you figured that out on your own already, what else have you figured out? God, he knew this was risky, you’ve always been ridiculously perceptive—he just needs to get through tonight without you putting everything together, then he’ll be fine.
“I suspected it,” you finally affirm his accusation, gaze searching his face. “He was nervous talking to you. If he was your rival, I’d expect him to be a bit more… assured. And he kept looking up toward a camera, like he knew someone was watching that he’d have to answer to.”
Oh, you did pick up on a lot more than he expected. He doesn’t think that the smile he gives you quite meets his eyes, if the way your brows furrow have anything to say about it, but he distracts you by bringing his hand up from your waist to cup your cheek, thumb brushing over your bottom lip as he murmurs, “That’s my girl, always so smart.”
Your lashes flutter as you avert your gaze, a tell tale sign of you being flustered. His lips quirk up into a more genuine smile, hand dropping back down to your waist. He can do this, he tells himself, he just has to be careful, tell you enough to make sure your guard is up and you know to at least some extent that the people in this room aren’t to be trusted.
“There are a lot of ability users in here,” he finally warns, careful to keep his voice low even with the music covering his words. “Do your best to keep your distance from people. I’ll stay with you as much as I can, but I’m going to get pulled away sooner or later. Chuuya or Piano Man will stay with you when they can, and if they’re pulled away, Tachihara is going to come down to stay with you.”
“... That’s why you didn’t let him shake my hand,” you say, realization flashing through your eyes, another puzzle piece fitting behind your eyes and Dazai has to be careful because it’s only a matter of time before you’re given that final piece and everything comes together. “What’s his ability?” 
“... Nothing good,” he answers after a few moments of silence, but you’re not content with that, brows furrowing. He sighs. “No confirmation on it, we only know it’s lethal. Many are in here.”
Your eyes widen and then you look a bit skeptical. “And you think they would use it here? In public?” you ask slowly.
To Dazai’s horror, it is not skepticism tainting your tone, but rather, you’re fishing for information, trying to put more pieces together, and he doesn’t have much choice but to give you answers because he can’t risk you setting your guard down even for a second.
He chooses his words carefully. “... There is little they wouldn’t do to get ahead in our business.”
“Hm,” is all you say in response, something akin to understanding flashing through your eyes and Dazai dreads to know what his answer has just told you. He feels distinctly like he’s playing chess against an opponent he did not anticipate and he’s at a disadvantage because the opponent is you. He can feel your shoulders slump suddenly, an unfamiliar expression crossing over your face; you look tired, as if you’d aged twenty years in a matter of seconds. “What did you get me involved with, Dazai?” 
You say it so softly that Dazai barely hears it himself, and he knows. He knows that you’ve figured something out, he doesn’t know what and he doesn’t want to know what. He wants to evade it as long as possible, because the moment he has to have this conversation with you, he knows he’ll lose you. He can’t think about that now, it’ll throw him off and this is the last place he can allow himself to be thrown off.
Instead, his grip on your waist tightens again, gaze averting down toward the ground. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmurs. The words weigh heavy on his tongue, not just an apology for tonight but an apology for accepting your offer for a drink two months ago, knowing he wouldn’t be strong enough to let it be a single night of indulgence; an apology for seeking you out again afterward, knowing that he would be sentencing you to death.
He feels sick. 
What is he doing?
Why are you here?
What has he done?
“Dazai.”
You say his name but Dazai hardly hears you. God, he can feel it happening, where his fingers are pressed against your body, the skin suddenly goes cold and stiff, his surroundings are blurring, the people fading into the background. This isn’t the place. Nabokov. Tolstoy. Mishima. Cao. He can’t lose himself, not now, but his grip on reality is starting to waver, the pages pile around him. 
“Dazai.”
What has he done?
Everything he’s planned for, seven years of careful calculations and planning gone down the drain. How does he even fix this? Can he fix this? His mind races, but he’s not even sure he’s thinking coherent thoughts, trying to ground himself to the present because he needs to stay here, he can figure out how to fix it later, when you’re not in danger but-
His vision swims. Not now. He can see it—he can see you. Still on the ground. Sometimes there’s blood, so much that he can hardly recognize you (but he can, of course, he can always recognize you, even when your body is littered with more gaping wounds than not). Sometimes it looks like you’re sleeping, so much so that Dazai kneels next to you, begging you to wake up (he knows in his heart that it’s futile. he can’t stop himself from trying). His head spins, he loses track of where he is and then-
“Osamu.”
His breath catches, gaze zeroing in on you. You. Alive. Your brows are furrowed in concern, searching his face to try to draw him back to reality. He thinks his grip on your waist must be painful but he can’t bring himself to loosen it at all. He stares at you, still desperately trying to keep himself grounded because although you’ve brought him back mostly, the corners of the pages still linger in the edge of his vision, threatening to consume him again.
“You can’t leave me,” you tell him quietly. “You brought me here. I need you here with me. Don’t go off somewhere I can’t follow.”
Oh.
He lets out a breath, slow and maybe a bit more shaky than he would’ve liked, but he tries to focus on the situation at hand. He loosens his grip on your waist, rubbing a gentle circle over your hip in an apology.
His gaze drifts around the room, Nabokov is in deep conversation with Cao, hardly paying attention to anything going on, but Cao’s sharp, dark eyes are pointed over Nabokov’s shoulder, scanning the dance floor. He’s looking for someone—not Dazai, which is a bit worrying, and he becomes all the more attentive to everyone in the vicinity, trying to make sure none of the Red Chamber’s assassins made it through the security. If any organization would be able to pull it off, it would be them. 
Once he’s decided the coast is clear, he turns his gaze back to the bar. Tolstoy is looking at him—blue eyes sharp, blonde hair hanging in them, a curious expression on his face as he sips at his drink and watches as Dazai dances with you. As soon as Tolstoy notices Dazai has caught him, his lips curl up into a smirk and he raises his drink. Dazai’s expression is cold as he looks away, seeking out Mishima only to find the man nowhere to be found.
Hm.
Chuuya and Kouyou are entertaining idle conversation with two executives of the Sun and Steel, both keeping a sharp eye on where you and Dazai sway on the dance floor. Piano Man is entertaining several politicians, doing a good job at ensuring that none of the other foreign executives get any chance to get their ears. Ace, Dazai notes, is in deep conversation in the shadows with one of the executives of the Three Deaths. 
Interesting.
He finally draws his attention back to you, a small smile on his lips as he recalls what you’d said to drag him from his spiral.
Osamu,
“You called me Osamu,” he murmurs, a warm feeling spreading through his chest as he focuses on that instead, trying to ease himself back into reality. Technically, he’s heard you say his given name before. Well. Not technically. It was never you and it was never him, rather it was vague memories of other yous and other hims, but it was nothing in comparison to hearing you actually say it.
You look embarrassed, averting your gaze. “I didn’t know how to get your attention, I’m s-”
“Say it again,” he whispers, lifting his hand back up to your chin to tilt your face back up, forcing you to look at him. His eyes search yours, watching the way you can hardly hold his gaze. You look hesitant, so he continues with, “Please.”
“... Osamu,” you say again, breathless, and god, Dazai wishes the two of you were anywhere but here. He wants to press you back against his bed, run his lips up and down your body, map out all of your curves with his hand. He wants to watch you come undone on his tongue and on his fingers—he wants you, he wants you more than anything else in the world. Every time he’s tried to take the next step with you the past few weeks, he either got interrupted by work or he ended up getting cold feet, nervous about making a mistake. 
Before his thoughts can spiral even more, the music picks up to a faster paced waltz. Your eyes widen, watching as all of the other couples shift into the respective dance. You look up at him, a bit panicked, clearly not sure what to do, and his lips curl up in amusement, beckoning you to lace your fingers with his to take the stance the other couples were taking.
“I don’t know this da-” you begin, voice hushed.
“Just follow my lead,” he repeats the same words he spoke to you when they entered the hall. “You’ll be fine. Trust me.”
You exhale, studying his face for a moment before sighing and mimicking the stance the other women took with their partners. He can feel your fingers wavering against his as he interlocks your fingers and he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand soothingly.
“Keep your eyes on me,” he tells you, just as the music finally picks up for the dance to start. 
He thinks you’re worried for nothing. You moved smoothly in line with him and in tune with the music, gliding across the dance floor as if you’ve danced with him hundreds of times before, your body so in sync with his that the two of you put all of the other couples to shame. Not that any of them matter, of course, you’re all that Dazai can focus on. Your eyes never leave his, not even for the sparest of moments, and Dazai feels like he’s caught in a trance, lost in your eyes and the feeling of your body so close to his, hyper aware of the way your your hand rests on his shoulder and the way your fingers are wrapped tight around his.
God, there’s something so otherworldly about you. Doesn’t know if it’s heavenly or supernatural, if you’re his angel sent to lead him to salvation or his very own siren singing a sweet melody to lead him to ruin. Doesn’t think he cares either way—salvation, damnation, none of it matters as long as he has you.
“Not so bad, hm?” he murmurs, sweeping you out into a spin before pulling you back to him, closer this time. He can feel your chest brush his and he prays you can’t feel the way he’s lost control of his heart, painfully cognizant of the erratic thumping. His hand slides from your hip to the small of your back, holding you close to him. He could stay in this moment forever, surroundings drowning out; all he can see is you, all that matters is you.
“Yeah,” you say softly. “Not so bad.”
His lips part to respond but he’s interrupted when he sees movement from the corner of his eye, freezing.
“Dazai.”
Dazai stiffens as a familiar voice speaks from behind him, shifting to stand partially in front of you as his gaze cuts to the side to see Mishima’s familiar figure standing a few feet away. Turning to face him, he asks, “Do you need something?”
“I’d like to speak to you before we meet with Tolstoy, Nabokov and Cao.”
Mishima’s voice leaves no room for argument, dark eyes absent of any emotion as he waits for Dazai to follow him. Dazai’s jaw tightens, eyes drifting back to you as he tries to figure out what to do. He can’t leave you here, not with Cao’s hawk-like gaze trained on the dancefloor and Tolstoy waiting for the opportunity to make a move. But he does need to talk to Mishima, have some idea of where he stands with the Sun and Steel before facing all of the foreigners. 
“May I have this dance?” 
Dazai hadn’t even heard Chuuya approach, turning to the side to watch as he holds a hand out toward you expectantly, quick to step in to take Dazai’s place so that you’re not alone. You shoot Dazai a concerned glance, brows furrowing a bit, before you place your hand in Chuuya’s.
Chuuya leads you back onto the dance floor, Dazai’s gaze lingers for a few moments, a bitter feeling spreads through his chest because that should be him, and it’s wholly unfair that he has to deal with all of this unsavory business when he should be spending time with you.
He should just kill them all here and be done with it.
The words ring through his head, echoing, tempting. He inhales and forces himself to look away as you loop your arms around Chuuya’s shoulders, swaying in tune to the slow song playing. He turns his attention back to Mishima, voice cool and expression void of emotion:
“Speak.”
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Dancing with Nakahara Chuuya is awkward. Awkward is even being generous. It’s not like he’s a bad dancer—in fact, it’s clear that he’s a very good one. He’s smooth on his feet as he spins you around the dance floor, but he’s so stiff. He’s careful to keep space between the two of you, hands never dipping lower than your sides, lips pressed together. He hardly even looks at you, his attention is more on where Dazai had stepped to the side to speak with the dark-haired man who’d interrupted the two of you, but you’re grateful for it, because it’s giving you a chance to gather your thoughts.
You think Dazai might’ve inadvertently confirmed your suspicions from yesterday. You don’t know who these people are, but there’s no way any ordinary business event would be dangerous enough for Dazai to genuinely worry that someone might kill you in a room crowded with two hundred people. A part of you wonders if it’s just different for ability users, that they’re not scared of committing crimes in public because they have an ability that prevents them from getting caught, but you know you’re just trying to make excuses at this point.
Your gaze drifts back over to the older, light-haired man with dark eyes who’d approached you and Dazai when you walked in. He’s off to the side talking with a Chinese man dressed in a red suit—your gaze lingers, trying to piece together the puzzle in your head desperately, but all of the edges are jagged and confusing, you can’t seem to figure out where they each fit with each other. 
You’d thought maybe that Dazai and his business was somehow affiliated with the mafia, because no one with the amount of money and success that he has gets it cleanly, but now you can’t help but hesitate, reconsidering your original theory. Vladimir Nabokov had been scared of Dazai. And it’s not like you haven’t noticed the effect that Dazai has on people. Whenever you’re around people with him, they get tense and on edge, but it’s different seeing the effect he has on someone who doesn’t even work for him, a foreigner supposed to be one of Dazai’s associates if you understood what he meant about not showing up to a meeting. 
Who are you, Dazai?
You don’t even know if you want to know. You love Dazai. You do. You knew it earlier in the night. You know it now. It’s something you can no longer hide or deny. You remember the concerned look on his face when he saw how upset you were. You can feel the way his lips brushed the nape of your neck as he explained why he kept meeting you at the club, the way he kissed your ankles as he knelt in front of you and told you how he was selfish for keeping you around, how he kissed your palm and leaned into your touch as he promised you anything you want. God, you love him, you don’t think anyone has ever looked at you the way he does; no one has ever spoken to you the way he does. 
You love him, and it scares you because you’re realizing you still don’t know anything about him, not really, and you’re also realizing that there’s a high chance he’s been lying to you about what he does. It scares you even more that your first instinct isn’t to run. Because you should run. This should make you run. He brought you to an event with people so dangerous that he’s afraid they might try to hurt you, or worse, but you don’t want to run, because you’d be running from him and you don’t want to run from him. 
Could you sacrifice everything for him though?
Fuck your morals—everything you’ve worked for, all of the years slaving away to put yourself on the path to success. You’ve told yourself your entire life that it would be all you would focus on, that it would all be worth it in the end. You convinced yourself that maybe if you proved yourself enough, your brother would return to your life; he’d be proud of you and he’d come back to you. You know he’s still out there somewhere, you get letters with no return address every month—the only thing in the envelope is a check with a dubious amount of money, but it’s in his hand writing, so you know it’s him. 
A part of you wants to cry, frustration clawing at your chest: the future you’ve worked so hard for, or love? The question you’ve dreaded since your epiphany yesterday is finally thrown right in front of your face, and you need an answer. The two are mutually exclusive—you will not be able to pursue the career you want with Dazai Osamu, not in the way you want at least. And you don’t want to do all of this work to just end up being another shady politician.
“Penny for your thoughts?” 
Your gaze snaps up to Chuuya, who’s suddenly looking at you, and you don’t really know how to respond. 
I’m pretty sure you guys are part of the fucking Mafia and you’re all hiding it from me, but also I don’t want to know if you are because that’s going to force me to make a decision that I don’t want to make so I’d rather live in ignorance. 
“My thoughts are only worth a penny?” You deflect with a grin instead, hoping it meets your eyes.
It doesn’t, evidently, because Chuuya’s eyes narrow a bit, and then he tilts his head to the side and hits you with a more direct: “What’s wrong?”
“I’m just worried,” you finally say, not entirely lying but also not telling the truth. 
“About?” Chuuya presses and you sigh, exhaling a bit.
“He mentioned that there were dangerous people here,” you tell him quietly. “I’m just nervous for when you guys go to your meeting… I’m guessing it’s going to be soon.”
Chuuya’s brows furrow and you can see the thoughts racing behind his eyes before he speaks again. “You’ll be fine,” he tells you. “We have people all over the event hall, and Tachihara is going to sit with you until you Dazai can get back. Dazai shouldn’t have worried you with all of this. He shouldn’t have even-”
He cuts himself off, jaw tightening, but you know what he’s going to say: he shouldn’t have even brought you here.
“I don’t know what he’s thinking,” Chuuya says quietly, and you think he might be talking more to himself than anything else now, but you listen anyway. “He’s always been hard to read but this is…”
He stops speaking out loud, as if he’s realized that you’re there again, and instead he shakes his head. “You’ll be fine. Back at the headquarters before you know it.”
You aren’t so sure.
Your gaze drifts to the side as you watch Nabokov and the Chinese man make their way over to Dazai and the man he’s talking to. The blonde at the bar that Dazai kept looking at also stands up, drink in his hand as walks in the same direction. 
Chuuya spits out a curse under his breath and gives you an apologetic look. Your heart sinks and your throat feels a bit tight—he doesn’t abandon you right away though, pressing his hand to the middle of your back as he guides you across the dancefloor to the bar, all the while keeping a keen eye on what’s happening on the other side of the room.
He pulls the barstool out for you, eyes still trained on where Dazai is standing with Kouyou, two men that work for him you haven’t met yet, and the four men you assume are business associates of his. Dazai is looking at you, an indecipherable expression on his face. You’re looking at him, suddenly anxious at the thought of being left alone, a bad feeling sweeping over you. 
“Tachihara will be over here soon,” Chuuya finally says to you, tearing his gaze from his coworkers to look back down at you. He flags down the bartender to order a drink for you. “You’ll be fine. Knowing Dazai, the meeting won’t last long anyway.”
Your shoulders only slump a bit as you nod, thanking the bartender quietly for your drink as he hurries to bring it back to you, taking a sip of it. Chuuya doesn’t say much else—once you’re settled in your seat and have your drink, he squeezes your shoulder before making his way back over to the intimidating group of people standing on the opposite side of the room.
Your gaze meets Dazai’s conflicted one one last time before he’s forced to turn away and disappears down a side hall deeper into the building. You sigh as you twirl your drink around, the clear liquid sloshing dangerously close to the brim of your glass as your eyes twist around the event hall, seeking out Tachihara, or Atsushi, or anyone that works with Dazai because you’re feeling distinctly vulnerable alone. You find none of them. You can feel eyes on you—most you’re sure are harmless curiosity, wanting to know who exactly came in on the arm of Dazai Osamu, but you know some aren’t nearly as harmless, you can feel the hungry stares of vicious opportunists directed at your back and you don’t feel comfortable sitting alone.
You don’t even get five minutes to yourself.
“Is this seat taken?” 
You’re startled by the unfamiliar voice, head snapping to the side. Your gaze focuses on a pretty man with soft features, shoulder-length black hair and gentle purple eyes. Your lips part to speak, but no words leave them, caught off-guard by his sudden appearance. He looks harmless enough, but there’s something about him that has you on edge—something simmering beneath the surface of his deceptive eyes that you can’t quite place but you know you don’t like.
“I mean no harm,” he says smoothly, lips curving up into an amiable smile. “I’m an old friend of Dazai’s. I only want to talk.”
An old friend. You don’t buy it, but you don’t want to risk antagonizing him, Dazai’s warning about the many lethal ability users prowling the event ringing through your head. You just hope that Tachihara shows up sooner rather than later as you finally shake your head.
“It’s not taken,” you say quietly, motioning to the stool as you take another generous sip of your drink.
The dark-haired man smiles at you as he takes a seat at the bar next to you, teeth glimmering like knives beneath the lighting of the chandelier. Instantly, you feel like you’ve made a mistake, a chill running down your spine as your eyes meet purple ones that are not quite so gentle anymore. Sharp and shrewd instead. Calculating. Dangerous. 
“Fyodor Dostoevsky. A pleasure, truly.”
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normansnt · 4 months
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Ace
(Alastor x male reader)
Explain to Alastor what Ace means
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"(Y/N)?" Called out Alastor to you
"Yes?" You answered not looking up from what you were reading.
"Would you like to go, get some coffee with me, in, what your generation calls, a date?"
Now to this you looked up.
"What?" You answered very confused
"In a...romantic way?" He tried explaining it to you thinking thats the part you didn't understand.
"I mean...I would love to but you dont have to push yourself if it would make you feel uncomfortable" you answered while you put your book down slowly on the coffee table.
"Uncomfortable? Why would it make me uncomfortable we are close are we not?"
Now he got confused as well.
"Well because...your ace and/or aro?"
"What is with that word, Rosie said it as well and the meaning of it still avoids me" he answered starting to get annoyed by his lack of understanding.
"What- ohhhh what did you say when did you die?"
"1933, however its quite rude to ask someone that." He answered looking at you in a scolding way.
"I'm sorry but because you lived back than thats why you don't know that word, please sit let me explain"
He sat down on the couch in front of you.
"Ok, so when we say 'ace' we refer to someone who has little to no sexual attraction and aromantic or aro is someone who has little to no romantic attraction. Of course there is much more to this subject but this kind of sums it up."
Alastor just stared at you.
Him? Not being interested in romantic relationships or sex??
Thats...true. He never felt the need to sleep with anyone he was doing totally fine without it. Romance...was another category completely however, and he didn't know if it was something he was interested in it or not.
He asked you out in the first place because he felt very good in your presence. He felt comfortable and content. Was that not romance?
"Alastor?" He has been staring at you for a while and it was quite creepy.
"Listen I understand thats a lot of information to process especially if you just realized some things about yourself so I can leave if you like-"
"No" Answered Alastor a bit fast. He has made up his mind. He might not be interested in a sexual relationship however he really wanted to kiss you right now.
"It might be true that I have not known this so far in my life or death, and you did make me realize some things about myself, but even so my offer still stands."
"Oh? Are you sure because I only want to if it doesn't make you uncom-"
You couldn't get the rest of your sentence out due to a pair of lips on yours.
Alastor kissed you.
You were stunned for a second but after you realized what was happening you kissed back immediately.
His lips were surprisingly soft, not to mention he did pretty good looking at the fact that it was his first kiss.
"Trust me, dear, If something would make me uncomfortable I wouldn't do it." He said grinning and holding your chin after you two parted.
You were a blushing mess.
You've never thought about Alastor that way, since you thought he was aromantic. But now that you did, fucking god, you like him.
Whit that thought in mind you kissed him again.
This time you stood up and he put his hands on your waist while yours were on his neck.
It wasn't a heated kiss and it will never be very likely you didn't want to step over his boundaries.
"...So my dear, would you like to get that coffee now?" He asked smiling while offering you his arm.
"I would love to" you smiled back at him.
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Guys I have a serious problem Im literally shitting words I have never written this many fanfics in one go🥹
BUT YK WHAT WORTH IT CUZ I LOVE EM
I literally love almost all characters in hazbin hotel so much I JUST CANNOT STOP💀
Thank you sm for the correction @whyarewehere103 😎🙏🧡
I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies,gentleman and other, good afternoon good evening and good night🦖🧡
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z3rinn · 6 months
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# #. FIRST DATE !!
featuring: heartslaybul - octavinelle !! it looks as if they've finally mustered up the courage to ask you out on a date !! but before they can start celebrating, they suddenly remember- there's still so much to do !! figuring out outfits, making good impressions, and most importantly- figuring out where to go! so, where do they take you out for your first date?
I think ive been reading too many shoujo manga / manhwa- but can you blame me?? also love songs are just AAAA !! especially Indian songs. desi songs and movies in general are usually so romantic!! And they give great ideas! anyway, hope you all enjoy this !!
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# #. RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS
Riddle's idea of a first date is probably teaching you all the queen of hearts rules while drinking tea or something. Luckily, Cater or Trey butt in- telling him that a study session probably isn't the best idea. Especially since the two of you already meet up a few times per week to do just that. Riddle eventually agrees, he should give you a memorable and exciting experience, one that the two of you could learn from. So what better than a library date ?
Riddle waits near the dark mirror for you, a blank look on his face as he thinks to himself. This was his first ever date. A date that he could only pray went right. Of course, being the absolute perfect housewarden there was, Riddle researched on what to do for a date and how to go about it. His room was filled with books and papers, all holding some type of romantic content in them; mainly ‘shoujo’ manga, a genre Cater suggested. They gave a great insight on how certain dates were supposed to go, including this library date he was trying to accomplish.
The sound of footsteps snaps Riddle out of his daze, and he quickly turns, only to find you standing before him. And when I say his face flushes, it flushes. If possible, he’s even redder than his hair, eyes wide and mouth agape as he stares. How could you get even more beautiful? Riddle’s and absolute flustered mess as he makes eye contact with you- even a simple task such as looking into your eyes has his heart aching. And once you laugh at his flushed face- there’s no coming back.
Just a quick glance at Riddle has you sighing, it looks as if you’d have to take the lead here. Taking the housewardens hand in your own, you cant help but notice how soft it is against your own. And of course Riddle looses his composure once more. You can't help but laugh, eventually he’d get used to this. It isn’t until you reach the library where he eventually calms down. Riddle glances over to you, a smile forming on his face. He suddenly had the great idea to take you to the romance section.
# #. TREY CLOVER
It was two days before your date, and Trey still didn't have a good idea for your first date. Don't get him wrong, he had been planning the date out for a while now. But there were so many things he wanted to do, so many dates he could choose from. It was difficult to pick just one. So now, as he stands in his kitchen, a mini shortcake in his hand, he suddenly has a great date idea. A sweet and romantic one!! And what was sweeter than a picnic date !!
Trey begins working while preparing for an upcoming unbirthday party. He set pastries and goodies off to the side, decorated and pretty just for you. A smile forms on his face as he places them in a picnic basket, taking off his apron. Cookies, cakes, and cinnamon buns were on one side, while sandwiches, crepes, and biscuits were on the other. He had already set up a place in the rose maze, in the middle of a small clearing where tea parties would sometimes occur. White roses lined the maze walls, complementing the blanket sprawled on the grass. In the center was a vase of red roses he picked out for you. It was the perfect place to have a picnic date!
Trey waits for you near the gardens entrance, a few roses in his hand. He looked calm, as always of course. To many, he didn’t have much of a need to be nervous. He prepared a beautiful lunch, filled with pastries and snacks. The date was located in the prettiest place in the rose maze, decorated nicely and pleasing to the eye. His clothes were ironed and pressed, complementing his aesthetic nicely. Most would praise him for being so prepared- telling him that you would love it. Yet Trey couldn’t help but feel anxious, palms sweaty as he griped the roses stems tightly. It’s fine, he was fine, everything was fine.
But once Trey heard your voice he froze. His head jerked up to face you, a pink flush on his cheeks. You were already looking up at him, a bright smile on your face. Trey couldn't help but laugh, mimicking your smile while holding his hand out to take your own. He led you through the rose maze, liking the feeling of your hand in his own. It didn't take too long to reach the picnic blanket, and once you saw Trey’s set up- you suddenly had the urge to jump around and spin and squeal. It was so obviously from the heart that you couldn’t help but swoon. Trey smiled, opening the picnic basket to take out some sandwiches, by the expression on your face he hoped you liked them!!
# #. CATER DIAMOND
There’s so many date ideas to choose from !! From cafes to arcades- it’s just so hard to just pick one alone ! However, Cater had something cooking in the back of his mind. He needed something classic, like from a movie or TV show! But it had to be special and romantic, and of course, heart stopping. It had to be something that could impress you…. Like something from a shoujo manga ! And what was more romantic than an amusement park date?
Cater can just imagine the scene before him. He finds you standing in front of the park’s entrance, eyes focused on the birds before you, so different from the ones in your world. You’re smiling, soft and gently as you fiddle with your phone case- the one he specifically bought for you. Flower petals are floating around you, drifting in the breeze. He can’t help but notice how similar they are to the ones he’d find in the rose maze. Cater had always imagined how’d they look like in a romantic setting.
Cater cant help but reciprocate your smile as he watches you indulge in your own little world. But as much as he would love to just watch you, this was an interactive date! Plus his hands are just itching to take a picture!! Especially since your outfit is just so adorable! You’re dressed in comfortable, yet stylish summer clothes. And what do you know ! Your somehow matching with him, what a fun coincidence !! (He totally didn’t bribe Grim into telling him what you were gonna wear)
Cater giggles to himself, bringing out his phone to surprise you. Suddenly a loud ‘click!’ comes from your right, and you turn to see none other than your favorite ginger. The smile on your face grows tenfold as you run up to him. Cater can’t help when his heart stutters, butterflies fluttering in his stomach when you look at him. He shoves the feeling down, taking your hand in his own to guide you into the park. There was something more important on his mind- he just had to get you on the Ferris wheel before this date ends!!
# #. DEUCE SPADE
Deuce would definitely take you out on a motorcycle- or rather- blastcycle date !! He probably asked his mom the idea- as he was far too flustered to come up with the plan himself. I mean, you actually accepted ! He was so sure you'd turn him down. You knew so much about Deuce, his old life, how bad he was as a kid… he was sure your opinion of him would be tainted with disgust. So now, as he stands before ramshackle, he can’t help but wonder if this is all real.
A bouquet of roses is held tightly in his grip, almost breaking the stems with how much he's shaking. His face is ignited, a hot and heavy blush on his face as he awaits by the door. His minds running a mile a minute, doubt sinking into his chest. Deuce had never been on a real date before. And he wouldn’t count the ones from his delinquent days to be romantic per say. This was his first ever date. A date with the prefect. He couldn’t mess this up- for either of your sakes.
A light sigh escapes Deuce’s lips as he nervously knocks on Ramshackles beaten door. His heart was pounding in his chest, beating far faster than it ever had in track. However, as the click of the door finally registers in his ears, Deuce can just feel his once racing heart stop. His breath hitches, eyes softening as the door opens fully. Your pretty eyes quickly met his own, causing him to almost drop the roses in his hand. A bright smile rested on your face. A smile that easily grasped his heart and held it to your own. absolutely beautiful.
….Your hands are wrapped tightly around his waist as you get onto the blastcycle, body pressed up against his own. He flushed further, feeling your head rest on his back, watching the sunset as you approach the beach. You sit there refined, fully unaware (your doing this on purpose) of Deuce's heart dilemma. It was only the beginning of the date yet he was already on cloud nine. Sevens, he’s gonna become a bowl of hot lava by the end of this !!
# #. ACE TRAPPOLA
Ace had been on many dates before. He once had a girlfriend, a partner. He knew how to make someones heart swell. He knew how to make your heart flutter and soften for him. He knew how a date worked, what to do and where to go. But this time it was special. This time he was going out with you, the prefect. Like others, he had to pick the perfect place. So as he watched snow fall gently to the floor and the school lamps emit a faint light, Ace couldn't help but feel soft. And before he knew it, the perfect idea struck. Ice skating in the city !!
Since it was winter it wasn’t hard to find a nice, frozen, lake that was close, and having the help of the dark mirror made it easier to travel wherever. Usually, Ace would leave his date to figure out where to go on their own, as they were the ones to ask him out in the first place. Yet, Ace had to impress you here, you deserved it for all you’d done so far. You knew him far better than anyone, you listened to him when he was upset, you let him into your home even when he was being an asshole. You cared- Eugh- he just realized how Lovey-Dovey he was being right now.
It was cold and dark the night of your date. Perfect "date material," it seemed, as a few couples were already there, laughing amongst themselves as they got lost to love. Ace scoffed, before realizing he was heading down that exact path. With... you. He shook his head, trying not to dwell on it for too much longer while he laced his skates, flushing bright red. The crunching of snow caught his attention, you were finally here, he assumed. He looked up, an annoyed expression playing on his face, probably about to tease you for being late. The words were right on his tounge, stopping once he gazed up at you. And the once cold Ace was suddenly burning red.
Street lights lit up your form for him to gaze upon. You were smiling, a soft smile, one he could tell was just filled with adoration. Now he was even redder than his housewarden!! ...You intertwined your hand with, using him for balance. He grew redder, thoughts of being balanced and steady leaving his mind faster than he could run from Riddle. He stumbled over himself, leading both of you to the floor, with you landing right on top of him. He grumbled while you laughed, poking fun at the Ace Trappola being ever so flustered. He was going to get you back for sure.
# #. LEONA KINGSCHOLAR
Leona’s idea of a first date is probably laying in bed, and maybe he’ll bring you along. But don’t be fooled, the main date is between him and his bed. It doesn’t take him much convincing to do something grander, especially since he sees you and Malleus talking to each other the day before your date is supposed to happen. Now he has to go all out. And what's more extravagant than taking you to a whole ass ISLAND-
The next day Leona stops by your classroom, leaning against the door frame as he looks down at you, arms crossed. You're confused, obviously, your date wasnt until tonight right, so why was he here now? A smirk forms on his face as he watches your expression shift, he can't help but chuckle at your face. Your mouth was agape, eyes wide and popping out of their sockets. He tells you to quickly pack, honestly surprised that you didnt drop all your books in complete shock.
Leona waits by the dark mirror, eyes closed as his tail swishs back and forth, agitated. Sevens you were taking so long. He fidgets with a small bag in his hand; the extra money he was going to bribe the headmage with. How else would he be able to do this on an average weekend? You'd better appreciate what he was doing- and could you hurry up?? In reality Leona was totally fine waiting- because believe it or not this was also his first date. Being a prince, Leona had to be careful about who he was trying to date, as it would eventually lead to courting, and then marrige. (Do what you will with that information.) So he had to pick the right person. Someone who could be with him always.
His ears twitch, hearing the sound of footsteps approaching. Being petty, Leona doesn't open his eyes until your there for well over a minute. Once he glances over, eyes falling onto your panting, messy, form, he sighs. You looked up at him, smiling brightly while, at the very least, expecting one back. But of course he just scoffed and turned away, leaving you to huff. If he was an actual gentleman he would’ve taken your stuff for you, and would’ve taken your hand and led you into the mirror. (Unbeknownst to you, his heart was starting to beat way faster than he would’ve liked.)
# #. RUGGIE BUCCHI
Ruggie was nervous to ask you out on a date. Mainly because of rejection of course, however the underlining fear of money and costs entered his mind of course. If he went on a date with you it couldn't be cheap and dull. It at least had to be decent, maybe not fully fancy, but at least decent. Luckily he had the perfect place in mind. there was a cheap, yet flattering date that could go perfect if he played his cards right. A cute little cafe date !!
One of the best cafes Ruggie had been to was just below the school, a cheap yet gorgeous place that was sure to blow you away. Some of his favorite donuts were also there, and hopefully he’d get to share them with you. Unsurprisingly, you get there before him, eyes looking up at the cafe sign in awe. You look beautiful, as always, but this time it was different. This time it was just for him… no one else. Perhaps the idea of this being a date was finally setting in.
A sly smile reaches his face as he shuffles closer towards you, trying to hide his flushed expression. He’s stealthy enough to not get your attention, before BOO !! jumpscare- a furry is before you now uh oh. You jump, listening to his snickers and teases while glaring. He will say that your expression is really cute. Ruggie interlocks his hands with yours, lacing your fingers together as he leads you into the cafe. No it’s your turn to tease him, as, “You’re already holding hands?? What- that’s not allowed!!” But he just laughs with you instead.
The cafe is cozy. Warm with the scent of baked goods and sweets, obviously catering to Ruggie’s tastes. You can’t help but giggle, watching as he dashed for the register, ordering a plethora of baked goodies that he would hopefully share with you. He comes back to the table soon after, holding an array of croissants, cake pops, donuts, and more. He’s smiling brightly as he holds out a donut for you, already taking a bite into his own. The both of you hoped this moment would last for a while. Yum.
# #. JACK HOWL
Jack had never been on a date before, and it was painfully obvious. He didn’t know what dates were like, or where to take you for one. He was so new to this subject, it was honestly kind of funny. So of course, he had to ask his idols; Ruggie and Leona on what to do. Leona ignored him- he was probably the worst person to ask- while Ruggie was confused. Again, why ask him?? Still, he was able to give some advice. The inspiring words of, “Idk it’s cold, go do something with snow,” gave Jack the great idea to go snowboarding!
Jack had always loved snowboarding. It was something he was good at, and something he could share with his family. And hopefully, it could be something to share with you. Jack smiled to himself, confidence boosting as he carried the snow gear to the magic mirror. He wasn’t that nervous, he had no reason to be. He liked you and you liked him, and even if you didn’t enjoy the date, it was good enough for him. Jack’s ears twitched, waiting for any sign of you to appear. His tail wagged in anticipation, contrasting his normal face.
The wolf looked up, hearing your footsteps approach, and he couldn’t help the butterflies in his stomach. You were already looking up at him, giggling as you glanced at his puffy winter jacket. It was overtaking his already gigantic form. He flushed, eyes darting around, suddenly nervous and embarrassed. Jack never had time for dates, mainly due to taking care of his siblings and parents. But now, in Night Raven College, surrounded by new people and “friends,” he felt as if he could be someone new. And a little spark bloomed once he saw you.
… Jack looked away, feeling himself getting flustered. The two of you were sitting in the sled, one of you excited while the other was nervous beyond his mind. Jack was flushed, the feeling of your body pressed against his own was waaayyy too much do him to handle. Your back was pressed against his chest, fully aware of how embarrassed he was. The wolf sighed, finally moving the sleigh down the hill as he listened to your sudden screech. Jack laughed, he'd have to get used to this.
# #. AZUL ASHENGROTTO
Azul is going to give you the vip experience in his restaurant, of course!! The lounge was one of the best places to go for dinner. There was appetizing, delicious, foods that were sure to impress you. Unique, flavorful drinks that could easily win people's hearts. Not only that, but the lounges atmosphere and aesthetic could be romantic in a way. (I feel like im promoting the mostro lounge tf-) What better than to spend time in his favorite place with his favorite person? Azul would give you the best dinner date yet!
The lounge was closed that night, surprising, as you never would've imagined Azul to close his restaurant for you. A heartfelt gesture that no one would've have expected him to do. You couldn’t help but swoon slightly, looking down at his message as you got ready. In reality, he was just thinking about business. Closing off the lounge just for a date could give him more publicity! Once Crowley finally gave him permission to branch off to different parts of Twisted Wonderland, he could advertise the lounge as a perfect place for date night!!
A smug smirk is on the octopuses face as he waits near the lounges entrance. He was sure sure to blow you away with his magnificence. Azul was fully prepared, his suit was pressed and cleaned, sporting only the most beautiful of accessories. The food was already out and on the table, which he made all by himself, might I add. And the lounge was set perfectly, pink and orange colors replacing the blue and purple lights for a more romantical effect. He was well prepared, so well in fact he already had a speech ready to go for once you arrived. However, once Azul saw you he froze, suddenly realizing this was a date and not a business offer.
The once smug Octopus was now a flustered, hot, mess. And all he wanted to do was just jump into his octo-pot and scream for messing up all he worked for. He stumbled as he led you into the café, hand shakily in your own. You couldn’t help but snicker, it was fun watching the high and mighty suddenly crumble just because of some date. The two of you sat in the middle of the lounge, quiet and peaceful. Yet Azul could see the teasing looks of Floyd and Jade in the background, their teasing at him being a flustered mess.
# #. JADE LEECH
Jade didn't know much about the surface, other than the fact he enjoyed some aspects of it. The ocean was deep and cold, a starch contrast to the surface. It had life different from the land, more majestic and colorful. To others, the sea was better than the surface. Yet to Jade, it was the other way around. He liked the lands’ high peaks and trees, their foods and plants. The land had a different culture from the ocean, and it was something the two of you could bond over- the beauty of nature. And how better to observe nature than a hiking date?
# #. FLOYD LEECH
The mountains near NRC was rich in wildlife, and although Jade had been there many times before, he had yet to explore every crevice of the forest. Not only, but he'd only ever explored alone, so going with you would make it a memorable experience. He's smiling all day- and for once its not one of his evil ones. His brother and Azul are concerned on why he's so excited. Hopefully he's not trying to make them eat more mushrooms....
Jade waits for you near the silent woods, his smile never once leaving his lips. He had everything for this date, walking sticks and foods. The two of you could have a little picnic in the forest!! Jade watches as you near him, you're in your own hiking clothes, and the eel suddenly realized he could fall harder in love. He places your hand in his, ever so gentlemanly, promising he'd make sure you were safe during your adventure. Man this man can make anyone swoon.
You laugh, watching Jade's eyes sparkle. It was so cute to see him so excited. He went on and on about the different types of wildlife. There were various plans and mushrooms he was able to find- promising to cook you something with them. You couldn't help but smile with him, perhaps for your next date you could take him to the mountains in Epel's town.
Floyd didn’t know where to go for a date, and to be honest, he didn’t care much. Just as long as got to spend time with his Shrimpy he was happy! :D But then Ace had to come along during basketball practice and tell him that not having a good date idea was lame, and of course, Floyd was gonna prove that idiot crab wrong. And eventually, Floyd settled on an aquarium date!
For once, Floyd studied. He studied those stupid Rom com shows that he wanted to throw his shoes at. He read thru manga and storybooks about romance. And he even asked his brother and Azul on what to do. He was doing this all for his Shrimpy so you better like it >:(!! Floyd noticed a pattern while reading and watching how people explored romance. Dates were all over the place- from amusement parks to just walking. But one common date caught his eye- aquarium dates!!
Floyd knew a lot about the ocean, of course, being a fish and all. So what was the point of going to the aquarium? Well he just liked the way they highlighted love. Most aquarium dates had a special feeling to them, so romantic and loving. Most couples held hands while in aquariums, watching the fish while laughing with one another. They hugged and cared- and we all know how much Floyd loved squeezing!! Plus! Knowing all about the fish could impress you!!
The two of you walk through the maze of Tanks, pointing out fish while Floyd compares them to his nicknames. A blue light cascades over you, complementing your excitement prettily. He giggles, telling you to hold onto his arm tightly, telling you to not let go or he'd squeeze you for all eternity!! Its all fun though- with Floyd threatening to jump in and eat those crabs that remind him of Ace. You'd better hold him back before he jumps in the tank and swims with the fishies!!!
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elixrr · 4 months
Text
ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛꜱ ☆ ɢᴇɴꜱʜɪɴ ᴍᴇɴ
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ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪꜱ ɴᴏᴡ. ɪᴛ'ꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.
ꜰᴛ. Genshin men (via alphabet)
ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ: Movie nights with the modern genshin boys <3
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: Headcanons! I love! Headcanons!! I'm writing this before I write for any other character so.. I hope I have enough tags available for everyone 💔💔
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☆ ALBEDO ☆
— Albedo would usually watch something more educational, but when you're with him, he's open to most things. Usually, when the movie's not too dramatic or action based, he'll lean onto the arm of the couch and let you lean on him. It's basically the same when it's action based and/or dramatic, even with horror movies, because no matter how gorey it gets, Albedo would remain unphased. He'd let you hug him if need be, though.
Educational, though? Lay your head on his shoulder and fall asleep if you want, but he's taking notes.
☆ ALHAITHAM ☆
— Unphased by any movie, but amused by your reactions and/or commentary. He physically could not care less about the movie. Sometimes, it's interesting, but most of the time, his eyes are on you, his phone, or a book. He would only mildly care if it was My Little Pony or something, but other than that, he doesn't care. Alhaitham would only agree simply because you're cute when you're invested. Especially with horror films. When you're scared, he just loves to tease you.
He'd let you hold him most of the time, but when he feels a jumpscare coming up, he'll "leave for the bathroom," but just secretly watch your face when it comes up, internally laughing if you jump at the sight.
☆ AYATO ☆
— Please, he would be all over dramas. Ayato already loves watching people's faces as he pulls the strings, but to see other people do so and see the result of their actions with so much drama at detail? It's delightful and heavenly. He wouldn't be super straightforward with it, but he'll definitely chuckle or smile deviously when he sees a plan in action. Still, sometimes he'll turn his eyes away from the television and look at you, especially when you're invested.
Immediately, he'll tell you to put your arms around him and cuddle with him while you both watch the movie or series. It's a very comfortable way for him to enjoy the television tension, all the while enjoying and basking in your presence.
☆ BAIZHU ☆
— In all absolute, pure honesty, I don't know what he'd be into. Baizhu would definitely watch whatever you put on, but he'll probably like watching dramas or movies with some sort of injury or medical condition because he'll definitely make comments on the things that the character(s) do. He'd probably spontaneously sit down and turn on the TV to watch something he found interesting and then invite you to join him, though you'd probably invite yourself in anyway.
By the way, you'll probably fall asleep mid-movie, especially if it's a documentary, but that's because his voice is extra soothing when he makes comments. It sort of... puts you to sleep? Oh well. Nice voice :)
☆ BENNETT ☆
— He's so invested! It's adorable <3
Whenever Bennett hears the words "movie night," his reaction is akin to that of a dog's when they see a treat. He'll cheer, yipee, and then he'll hop onto the couch, excited for the movie and to snuggle up with you. He really liked action movies, and while he doesn't mind romance or dramas, he'd prefer if it was more intense.
Still, don't let him near horror movies. He'd absolutely crumble just watching one. Bennett would cling to you and nearly begin to cry when— of course, mid jumpscare, thunder strikes outside, and the lights go out. Good luck out there, because you'll have a terrified, teary Bennett clinging to your arm as you both try to find a way to fix the issue.
☆ CHILDE ☆
— I feel like... when Childe sees a cool move in an action movie, he would immediately tries to replicate it, but add 10x more pizazz. He would also critique how someone uses weapons or how someone fights. Other than that, he's just there to sit down, lay down, and hug his love to death! Childe would be very unphased when seeing any gore, heavy or not. But when he watches a Pixar of Disney film that's wholesome and has the most bittersweet, tearful ending, he might start crying. He'd play it cocky, acting like he doesn't care, but at the end, he'll go quiet because there's a little tear trickling down his cheek.
He'll never admit defeat, though. No way he's cried to these movies more than you have!
☆ CHONGYUN ☆
— He does enjoy movies, but he does explicitly ask that they're not on super interesting topics or that they're not too exciting. Otherwise, he'll literally lose himself. This also includes horror films that feature ghosts. Chongyun still remembers when he'd watch little childish cartoons as a kid, of course, before he started training to be an exorcist. He would watch simple little children's shows, and once his friends came over— only to see Chongyun running around and getting all ecstatic whenever he would answer a question right from the cartoon.
Once, you wanted to tease him, so you had Chongyun close his eyes as you selected one of his old favorites. He'll open his eyes to see the character that he once deemed as his superhero. Chongyun hasn't ever let you near the remote after that.
☆ CYNO ☆
— He's definitely going to sleep through movies. No matter how interesting or intense the plot is, Cyno will always fall asleep during the most important climaxes of the movie. He does his best to stay awake, but because of his job and because of his semi-lack of interest in the movie, he's drifting off anyway.
Sometimes, when you're watching a horror film with Cyno, he'll stay awake to comfort you, but on the occasion where he doesn't, have fun fending for yourself. He's not going to wake up 100% if you scream or yell, and the best part? Sometimes Cyno is awake, but he doesn't do anything because you're adorable when you cling to him.
☆ DILUC ☆
— He's chill with anything as long as it's not My Little Pony or any straightforward kids' movies. Actually, Diluc would probably find himself invested in Marvel movies or the batman series. Any action movie would have him sit up, rest his chin atop his hands, and stare intensely at the screen. Diluc nearly starts glaring at it, but you know that it's just his RBF. He would probably have you sit on his lap or something, either that or you just lean your entire body on him, and he'll sit there, unphased.
Also, if you ever watch a horror movie with him, rest assured, Diluc will pause the movie if you get too scared. He'll let you take a break for a bit, get some tea or hot cocoa, and then he'll resume. If you don't want to watch it anymore, he'll advise you to put on music and go into another room because he'd like to finish the movie.
☆ FREMINET ☆
— Freminet would love things from Pixar, Disney, any fantastic fairy-tale or wholesome story. He won't force you to watch if you don't want to, but if you're willing, he'd be so giddy inside. Freminet would never tell you, of course, but if you took your eyes off of the TV and looked at his face, his eyes would glow brighter than the screen.
He'd cuddle with you under blankets and watch the movie, but he'll also be holding Pers close to him when watching, and he'll probably give him a little (gentle) squeeze whenever there's a depressing point in the movie. Oh well, he'll have his best friend Pers and you, his lover, to be there by his side when things get sad. There'll be a happy ending to look forward to anyways, right?
☆ GOROU ☆
— He's really fine with anything, except for horror movies. Trust me, Gorou will lie all he can about his taste in movies, but you'll never miss how his eyes glow when something sweet or wholesome comes up. He doesn't mind action movies and dramas, but when a wholesome moment in the movie shows up, his excitement is parallel to that of a lonely dog finally seeing its owner again. Gorou would let you hold him, and he'd hold you too, and as long as you're into the movie and holding him close, he doesn't care what movie you two watch.
...Until a horror movie starts playing. He says he doesn't care; he swears it. Yet, no matter how many times he tries to convince you that he doesn't care, he'll always shriek at jumpscares. He'd jump at the slightest of scares but scream at bigger ones. Be careful and try not to let your ears explode!
☆ HEIZOU ☆
— True crime. Murder mysteries. Documentaries. No questions asked. Heizou would absolutely research movies and anything interesting when you announce movie night, and he'd find the most appealing thing to watch. If there's nothing interesting that day, which seldom ever happens, he'd just play something dramatic with a lot of action, and he'd hold you close while being super reactive about each scene.
Heizou would be such an English teacher about it. Anything remotely eye-catching or eyebrow-raising would be the highlight of the movie until the next interesting thing happens. If you don't mind, great! If you do, shut him up with kisses. It works every time. Sometimes, it works a little too much...
☆ ITTO ☆
— It's either he watches something super fantastical and wonderful with you, something that pumps him up with pure unicorn energy, or he watches something intriguing... and falls asleep halfway through the movie. Oh, and of course, Itto will always somehow manage to fall asleep on you, regardless of your height. It'd be nice to hold him, but he's too jumpy for that. He fiddles in his seat, gets loud and excited, and to be honest, you're probably all for it. If not, a quick lecture and a kiss will do the trick for a good five minutes or so.
Still, it's wholesome when Itto gets all melted and almost gushy when things get nice in the movie. He wouldn't like romances, but with something like a Pixar movie, he'd definitely start tearing up— albeit he would never admit that. It's also quite peaceful when he's asleep in your arms. You get to finish the movie while he's sound asleep, either on you or shoved to the side of the couch (lovingly).
Oh, also, don't watch horror movies with him. It's all he'll ever be able to think about for the next two weeks.
☆ KAEYA ☆
— Kaeya would watch the movie– he doesn't entirely care what movie, but he'll only watch it to wait for the perfect moments for flirting with / teasing you. That's if the movie isn't too interesting to him, but he likes having an excuse to see your flustered face. Kaeya enjoys seeing your eyes tear from the screen and find their way to him; it's extra amusing to watch.
But he still relishes in your presence. Though he may never show it, being around you makes him feel complete. Kaeya can be real around you, and he can finally let his guard down without a drink or two. He loves movie nights, as they're just an extra excuse to spend some time with you.
☆ KAVEH ☆
— He's such a romantic movie guy. Kaveh wouldn't be too into action-based movies, but he would absolutely love dramas. As long as the plot doesn't suck and it's dramatic— extra points if it's romantic— he will absolutely love it. When cuddling with you and holding you close, he'll be pointing out key information or anything intriguing that happens, or that is said. Something about the drama fuels him, and if he would allow himself to, he'd start kicking his feet around with pure excitement. But he'll control himself. For you.
Anyways, Kaveh and horror movies could go two ways. He'll be cocky at first for both ways, but he might end up terrified, screaming to terrifying things and clinging onto you in fear for his life. But there's the rare chance where he's so invested that he just looks possessed by the movie. He'll sit up straight with both hands on both legs, and he'll just stare blankly at the screen. It somewhat scares you, but he'll snap out of it if you say his name. Albeit he'll revert back to his usual self, terrified of everything after his mini trance.
☆ KAZUHA ☆
— He's so chill; it's unreal. Kazuha would be invested and whatnot, but he wouldn't be super surprised unless there's a huge plot twist. Quick note that he would genuinely be the best cuddler in this list, and if you don't want to be held / hold him, then that's okay, too! At some point, though, he'll let go of you and just watch the movie when it gets really intense, but you can hold him whenever that happens. Kazuha would also have a lot to say about... anything, really. He's big on commentary, but his voice is so soothing that you simply don't care.
Fair warning, though. Should there ever be a sad moment where a character loses their best friend, Kazuha may go quiet, depending on how sad the moment is. If it's dramatic, extra sorrowful, then he will absolutely stay silent until something else catches his mind.
☆ KUNI (WANDERER) ☆
— Kuni would make fun of your movie taste half of the time, especially if he finds them distasteful, so he'll usually pick the movies. He wouldn't automatically cuddle with you, though, and at most, he would let you rest your head on his shoulder, or he would let you hold his hand, but he would not move an INCH during those times. He would also be rather... stony faced when watching movies, except for times he'd gag at romantic scenes or complain about how there's too much gore.
If you fell asleep during a movie, Kuni would watch only a minute or so more to see if it catches his interest, but then he'll pause and turn off the TV to hold you close to him secretly. He thinks you're adorable, and he thinks the movie is irrelevant in comparison to just being with you.
☆ LYNEY ☆
— He'd watch most things, and he'll be extra open to movie genres, as long as he's with you. Lyney wouldn't mind if it bored him because he'll have you to hold and keep him company! What better than to be snuggling with your own lover than... watching a documentary on how paper is made. But whatever, he thinks, he'd take this over children's shows. Also, he'd be really expressive with whatever happens in the movies, like in dramas, he would be shocked at plot twists or suspension build-ups... he would also be quite scared and horror movies that he would find scary.
To be honest, Lyney wouldn't really find most horror movies scary, but when it's on a topic he's somewhat sensitive about, and especially when it's a psychological horror movie, he would be scarred for a few days. No more carefree magician Lyney for the time being, you'd suppose.
☆ NEUVILLETTE ☆
— It's hard to tell what he's into. Neuvillette could like court cases or mysteries, but maybe he would like to watch something that takes his mind off of work. You're well aware that Neuvillette seldom ever gets the chance for a break, so watching something wholesome might be up his alley for relaxing, especially with you. Just be sure he won't cry at super sad scenes; you might have to skim through the movie first. Otherwise, you'll get an upset lover instead of a relaxed one. By the way, he wouldn't, again, be too into horror movies. They're scary, maybe to you, but he's somehow unphased by the terror. He'd only feel for any lives lost at the hands of the antagonist(s).
Anyways, I can't see him being too into cuddles like other people would be, but he wouldn't mind hugs or hand-holding. He'd let you lean on his arm or shoulder if you're tall enough, and maybe when you do, you'll be lucky to feel his tense shoulders relax themselves for once.
☆ THOMA ☆
— Loves loves, loves commentary, but will quiet down when something big happens. Thoma would be expressive. He'll show he's shocked when he's shocked; he'll show his sorrow when there's sorrow. Funnily enough, he won't say much when something wholesome happens in the movie, but he'll definitely smile and/or chuckle at the sweetness.
Just beware: he likes theorizing with murder mysteries / horror movies. If Thoma feels like this or that is gonna happen, he might blurt it out loud. Or maybe if he thinks the ending will go like this or perhaps like that, then that will also be spoiled, too. If you like commentary, great! If you don't, politely kiss him on the cheek and make it known.
☆ TIGHNARI ☆
— He's so critical, it's everything. Unless Tighnari genuinely likes the movie, any flaws in the acting or in the plot that he finds, he will comment on. He almost lectures the screen on how to make the movie better and how to make the plot more effective / attractive for the viewers. He'll even throw in some sarcastic remarks here and there, but when it gets good, it gets good. If you like the movie, he'll shit on it just a little bit, but he won't really care or judge you for it. Just don't force him to watch something like Dora. Otherwise, he won't trust you on movie night selection for a while.
Tighnari isn't crazy about cuddles while watching because most of his attention is focused on the TV, but he doesn't mind romantic gestures like, say, holding his hands, or maybe even running your fingers through his tail, sometimes it gets him to quiet down and just watch the movie. It's soothing, you're soothing, the couch is soothing, and he isn't. Well, for watching movies he isn't.
☆ VENTI ☆
— He's drunk and watching Frozen with you, no questions asked. Venti would absolutely love childrens movies, not just because the plots are near harmless and easy to follow, but because there are usually songs and good sound tracks to them that he could sing along to, and with a breath that smells of wine and a heart full of passion, he will sing: “Let it goooo, let it gooo!! Can't hold it back anymoooore–”
Anyways, when Venti recovers from his fun little goofy private concern, he'll plop back down on the couch and just wrap his entire being around you. He'll hold you so tight, but it's Venti, so you don't mind too much. He'll say a few things here and there, express a few opinions and theories on the movie, but not too much. Just enough that you know he's paying attention to the movie and not just you, but not too much where he bombards you with a little detective hat on his head, and he starts analyzing everything. Not that you would mind, though... Right?
☆ WRIOTHESLEY ☆
— He seems like the type of person to watch things on criminal cases and whatnot, but honestly? Wriothesley's down for anything. He finally has a break, and he wants it to be spent well, so he'll watch whatever you want to watch with him, but he'll always give his second opinion before the actual selection. He doesn't care what genre to be honest, he's really only there because you're watching a movie with him and he gets a good hour or so of time to just cuddle with you while watching something. Just, if you want him to stay awake, listen to his opinions and select something that the both of you would enjoy. Also, don't fall asleep either because he may or may not fall asleep with you, too.
That fact alone is really sweet, considering the things he might have to hear as a prison guard. Wriothesley would hear the inmates sneer at him and insult him either to his face or behind his back, and having to go through that every day as a job can be rough every so often, so just being able to watch something nice with you in his arms is quite the refreshment.
☆ XIAO ☆
— He's not a big movie person, and he's already well picky enough, so be wise with picking movies! Don't watch horror movies with Xiao, but don't watch something too comical or dramatic. Something more mundane may suit him, strangely enough. He's not too big with romance, but something wholesome like a Hallmarks Christmas movie would bring the slightest and most subtle of smiles on his face. Your presence is honestly one of the biggest contributing factors, though.
Xiao would 100% enjoy the movie more if you're expressive. Not over the top where you jump out of the couch every five minutes, but as long as you're not stone faced and you find yourself smiling or tearing up at times, it makes things a little better for him. Your smile is infectious to him, anyway. So, key tip? Smile when something sweet happens, Xiao will glance from the TV to you and see your smile, and his heart will immediately swell with pure adoration.
☆ XINQIU ☆
— He always looks forward to movie night. Not just because he can watch movies and cool films with you, but because he's written and read so many romance novels that he's just trying his best to recreate them. Xinqiu would pick old romantic movies or (occasionally) horror movies whenever he felt like being smooth. Of course, horror movies seldom ever work out because one of you ends up jumping on the other, eyes filled with tears and lips trembling like there's no tomorrow.
It's fun, though. You know Xinqiu well enough that you automatically see through his plans whenever he picks out a movie. You enjoy messing around and "innocently" making him improvise the plan, catching him off guard when you make the first move or do more romantic gestures. Eventually, you'll just kiss him and say that you simply want to watch the movie with him normally, and he'll agree... for the most part.
☆ ZHONGLI ☆
— He's an oldie, old-fashioned with his way of holding you when you're both on the couch, watching whatever films pique your interests. Zhongli's willing to know more about how movies are now, so he'll usually let you pick the movies for the night, and he'll watch the nostalgic, old, heartwarming ones on his own so to not bore you. But if he finds out you're into them, then he'll let himself pick the movies occasionally, and he'll watch them with you. Still, he doesn't watch movies too often. He'd prefer to do things that involve more interaction, but movies can be quite nice.
It'd also be a great idea to not watch any horror movies with him because he's just... stoic. Throughout them. He'll comfort you if you're scared, but he'll wonder why people like horror movies when watching them. Unless it's based on real cases, then he'll be interested. Zhongli will be sure to hold you closer to them, though. It's nice for him to know that you're with him; you love him; you're safe here with him.
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821 notes · View notes
wholoveseggs · 3 months
Note
hey girl! i was wondering if you could write some angst - maybe like an unrequited love? like the reader is in love with Elijah but is too shy to tell him, and he doesn’t know about her feelings towards him because he’s too focused on Hayley? pretty please 🫶🏻
Crush
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
You have quite the crush on Rebekah's big brother, and you find yourself lost in the tangled web of unreciprocated feelings, yearning for a love that may never be yours.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag, I may have gone a little off topic with this one ♡♡
6.7k words - Warnings: angst, masturbation, smut, corsets, Elijah being a history nerd and using it to flirt, Rebekah being the best (as always)
{Moodboard->}
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You were excited to meet Rebekah’s infamous family. You thought Klaus, as notorious as he was, would intrigue you the most. However, the moment you laid eyes on him you knew you were doomed. Elijah. His charming smile, his piercing dark eyes and his strong hands. It took all your self-control not to blush and look away like some schoolgirl.
He was the first person who greeted you, his hand lingered in yours a moment longer than what could be considered polite and it sent butterflies straight into your stomach.
You were so gone, it was almost embarrassing. You couldn't help it, you were sure that anyone else would fall head over heels for him too.
But there was only one small problem: Elijah had eyes for another, Hayley Marshall. You tried not to be bitter, after all, they were just friends. However, you couldn't help but notice the way he looked at her, or the way she leaned into his touch. They way they would sometimes have entire conversations with their eyes. You couldn't stand it.
You had been so sure you had a chance. He had been flirting with you, right? But then you noticed that he was that way will everyone. He would flirt and smile, then gaze at you in a way that just oozed sex appeal.
You were staying in the compound with Rebekah and going to school full time. You enjoyed spending your free time reading, the Mikaelsons had an incredible collection of books and you had read a lot of them.
You were sitting at the table, a large book on medieval history in front of you. You were working on a research paper on romanticism in the middle ages. It was difficult, especially because there wasn't much written about that subject from this time period.
You considered asking Rebekah about it, but you knew it was a sore subject for her, so you decided against it.
You were getting ready to give up and start a new project when Elijah entered the room. You blushed at the sight of him, he was wearing a black T-shirt, and jeans. Looking the most casual you had ever seen him.
He gave you a friendly nod and headed to the bookshelf. He looked through the books for a moment, before taking one from the shelf. He placed it on the table before sitting across from you and beginning to read.
The two of you sat in silence for a while, both of you reading and not making a sound. You were surprised that you weren't more uncomfortable. The only sounds were the occasional page turn and the occasional noise from the city outside.
You got lost in your work again and came across an interesting paragraph about how poetry was used often to court potential partners. You wondered if Elijah had done that back then. He seemed like the kind of guy who would have.
The thought of Elijah reading you poetry made your heart skip a beat. You imagined him leaning in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered words of affection and lust.
Your eyes glanced up, and your breath hitched when you realized he was staring at you. You flushed, quickly looking back at your work.
He chuckled softly and reached out, tapping the top of your textbook.
"Interesting choice of reading material." He said.
You gave him a small smile, "I'm trying to write a research paper on the Middle Ages." You replied. "About romance and poetry."
"Ah, yes." He said with a smirk, "I remember that time period fondly."
You giggled, "Of course you do. You were probably the biggest player around."
He gave you an odd look, crossing his legs and leaning back in his chair. His eyes looked you up and down, and you could see a flash of something indecipherable cross them. You were surprised by how intense his gaze was, and felt your cheeks growing hot, regretting opening your mouth.
"What do you mean by that?" He asked, his tone teasing.
"I... uh..." You stammered, not sure how to respond. "You just seem like the type who'd have his pick of women."
Elijah smirked, his dark eyes meeting yours. "And why would you think that?" He asked, his voice low and dangerous.
You swallowed nervously, and his eyes narrowed slightly. You realized he was toying with you, and that he could hear your heartbeat quickening. You weren't going to let him win.
"I think you know why." You said, your voice surprisingly steady.
Elijah chuckled, his eyes roaming over your body once again. He put his hand on this chin and looked at you thoughtfully. "In the middle ages I was actually quite solitary." He said, a smirk still playing on his lips.
"What was it like back then?" You asked, trying to steer the conversation away from your previous comment.
Elijah's expression softened slightly, and his gaze seemed far away. "It was a different time." He said wistfully.
You couldn't help but stare at him. His eyes were filled with such pain and sadness. You knew he'd experienced terrible things, and that it must've been difficult for him. But somehow he'd managed to survive and maintain his humanity, something that very few vampires could say.
"What was it like to date -sorry- court someone back then? You asked, hoping to get a better understanding of him.
"Women were often married off when they were very young." Elijah said, a grim expression on his face. "They had no say in the matter. But there were ways around it."
He paused, his eyes meeting yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. "It wasn't easy to be alone with a woman, not even for a moment. If you wanted to seduce her, you had to be creative."
Your face turned a deep shade of crimson, and you were suddenly thankful for the dim lighting. You shifted in your seat uncomfortably, and he chuckled softly, clearly amused by your discomfort.
"What we are doing right now, alone in this room," he said, his voice low and seductive, "it wouldn't be allowed. Not without a chaperone. And if we were discovered, the consequences would be severe."
His eyes flashed with desire, and you found yourself unable to look away.
"What would they do?" You asked, your voice barely a whisper.
"Well," he said, his tone mischievous, "you'd have to marry me, of course."
Your eyes widened in shock, and he laughed loudly, enjoying the reaction he'd gotten from you.
You felt flustered and embarrassed, but also oddly flattered. You couldn't believe he'd actually suggested that, and the thought of it made your heart race.
You wondered if he was joking, but you didn't dare ask. You weren't sure you could handle the answer.
The two of you sat quietly for a moment, before Hayley walked in holding Hope. She gave Elijah a questioning look and he stood, walking over to her. You watched as he placed a gentle kiss on the baby's forehead.
"Can you watch her for a few hours? They need me in the bayou," she asked him, her eyes wide and pleading.
"Of course." He replied, giving her a small smile.
She smiled gratefully, placing a hand on his cheek. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft and affectionate.
Elijah took Hope from Hayley's arms and cradled her gently. Giving her a wide smile and making funny faces, causing her to giggle. You couldn't help but smile. He was so sweet with her.
Hayley looked from you to Elijah, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "See you later." She said, before walking away.
Elijah nodded, his gaze lingering on her a moment before turning back to you. You looked down at your textbook, feeling guilty and jealous all at once.
He walked over to the couch and sat down, Hope still in his arms. You couldn't help but stare at the two of them. Elijah held his niece with such tenderness, and Hope seemed completely content in his arms. He was rocking her back and forth, humming a soft tune under his breath.
You'd never seen anything more beautiful.
Hope's eyes slowly started to droop, and Elijah smiled down at her. He continued to hum and rock her until her eyes finally closed, and she was asleep.
"You are so good with her." You said, unable to hold back the compliment.
He smiled, and his eyes met yours. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you quickly looked away, embarrassed.
You were sure he could hear it.
"Thank you," he said, not taking his eyes off Hope.
You tried to focus on your work, but it was difficult. Your mind kept wandering, and you found yourself glancing over at him more and more.
"I better go put her down, have a nice night." He said, standing up with Hope in his arms and heading towards the nursery.
"You too," you replied, smiling up at him.
Once he was gone, you let out a sigh and sank back into the couch. Your heart was still racing, and you were sure your face was still bright red.
It was the first time the two of you had been alone together. The first time you'd gotten a glimpse of his softer side.
And it made you want him even more.
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Over the next few weeks you kept finding yourself alone with him. In the kitchen, in the library, on the balcony. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings, and you weren't sure how much longer you could keep it up.
He would ask you questions about your paper, and the two of you would talk for hours. He would listen to your ideas and tell you of his own experiences in the Middle Ages.
You loved how passionate he was about everything. The way his eyes lit up when he talked about something he enjoyed.
You wondered if he could see how you were falling for him, if he noticed how you blushed whenever he touched you. You were sure he did.
You knew it was foolish, but you couldn't help it. Every time you were around him, you couldn't stop yourself from imagining what it would be like to kiss him, to touch him. To be with him.
But he didn't seem interested, he didn't look at you the way he looked at Hayley.
One night, the two of you were sitting on the balcony, watching the stars. He was telling you a story of how he courted a woman who was to be wed to another, he would compel her betrothed to forget that he was around her.
"I don't miss much about those times, everything smelled terrible and fanaticism ran rampant, but there was something about the secrecy and the scandal that made it all..." He paused, looking for the right word, "exciting."
You chuckled, "I'm sure. But the fact that a lady could be forced to marry a man she didn't want... that sounds horrible."
"It was," Elijah agreed, "but not everyone was unhappy. Some women preferred it."
"Why?" You asked, your brows furrowing.
"Some liked the idea of being taken care of, of not having to make decisions or choices." He shrugged. "Others simply liked the security."
"What do you think?" You asked.
He turned to look at you, his eyes studying your face intently. "I think it was wrong. No woman should be forced into a marriage she doesn't want. No one should have that much power over another person."
You smiled, glad that he held similar opinions to your own. 
"But I do miss the corsets, the anticipation when taking one off, pulling the ribbons and slowly revealing the soft, delicate skin underneath," his eyes met yours, his gaze intense. "It was like unwrapping a gift, a treasure."
You couldn't stop yourself from blushing, his words making your heart race.
He chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a sip of his bourbon and leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving yours.
"Do you have enough information for your paper now?" He asked.
You smiled and nodded, "yes, but I don't know how to credit my sources," you chuckled. "I can't tell my professor that I'm writing a paper on the middle ages based on the first hand account of a vampire I know," you grinned.
"Hmmm, yes, I suppose that would be difficult." He said, his tone teasing. "How about you quote a 'unique source' that has a vast knowledge of the subject and a passion for it?"
You laughed, "That might work."
"Good," he said, offering you his hand. "Shall we?"
You looked at him quizzically, "where are we going?"
He smirked, "to the 14th century, of course."
"What?" You said, staring at him in disbelief.
"First hand experience is far more educational than anything written down," he said, taking your hand in his.
"You ready?" He asked, his expression serious.
You bit your lip nervously, unsure of what was about to happen, but you trusted him.
"Ready."
You were immediately plunged into his memories. He was standing in a large stone hall, surrounded by people in period clothing. There was laughter and music, and the scent of roasted meat and wine filled the air.
You watched as Elijah walked through the crowd, smiling and greeting people as he passed. He was dressed in a dark red tunic, and his hair was slicked back into a ponytail. It was an amusing haircut for him, but it was the fashion back then.
You followed him as he made his way towards a woman standing in a corner. She was beautiful, her dark hair was braided into a crown on her head, and she was wearing a yellow gown with red embroidery.
Elijah stood next to her, his hand resting on her arm. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with longing. A feeling you knew well.
"My Lady," he said, bowing his head.
"Sir," she said, her voice soft and sensual.
"Would you care to dance?" He asked, offering her his hand.
She hesitated, her gaze shifting towards a man who was watching them intently.
"I don't think my husband would approve."
"You worry too much," Elijah said, taking her hand and leading her onto the dance floor.
They began to move together, their bodies swaying in perfect sync. You couldn't tear your eyes away, watching the two of them. They moved with such grace and elegance, it was like watching a dance meant only for the two of them.
A sudden movement caught your eye, and you saw the woman's husband storming towards the couple. His eyes were filled with rage, and his jaw was clenched tightly.
"Elijah," you said, hoping he could hear you.
But he didn't respond, instead he continued to dance with the woman, ignoring her husband's fury. When the husband reached them, Elijah simply grabbed the man and compelled him.
"I'm going to take a walk with your wife, she will be back before the sun comes up."
He let go of the man, who immediately walked away, not saying a word. Elijah offered his hand to the woman, and she took it, a small smile playing on her lips.
They walked out of the castle together, and you found yourself following behind. You watched as they strolled through the gardens, their hands entwined. They stopped under a large oak tree, and Elijah pulled her close, kissing her deeply.
You were mesmerized by the scene, your heart aching for the man you had grown to love. You wished it was you in her place. You wished he would kiss you like that.
You heard Elijah's voice, but it wasn't coming from the version in front of you. "I courted her for months, sneaking into her chambers, bringing her flowers and trinkets," he chuckled. "It was rather clandestine and exciting."
"What happened?" You asked, wanting to know the ending.
"She became pregnant with her husband's child." He said, his voice low and full of regret.
Your heart ached for him, and for the woman who had been forced to marry another man. The memory faded and you returned to the present, still holding Elijah's hand.
"I'm sorry," you said, not knowing what else to say.
He smiled, "It's alright, it was a long time ago."
"It's lonely isn't it? Being a vampire?" You asked.
He was quiet for a moment, before answering. "Yes. I think it's why I value my family so much," his gaze shifted to yours, and he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "And why I treasure our friendship."
"Me too," you said softly, smiling up at him.
You both sat in silence for a while, watching the stars and enjoying each other's company. After a while, Elijah stood, fixing his suit jacket and giving you a smile. "I hope you get an A on your paper."
You grinned, "Thanks for the help, Elijah. Goodnight."
You went to your room, lying awake in the dark. Your thoughts consumed with him, the way he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. The memory he had shared with you, it was so personal, and yet he didn't mind that you were there.
Your mind wandered to the way he was kissing that woman in the garden. His lips pressing against hers, his hands gripping her waist, his body flush against hers. You could see the way her head fell back, her eyes fluttering shut. You could feel the heat between them.
Your skin began to flush, and you felt a warmth between your legs. You had never felt such an intense desire for someone before, but there was no denying it.
You wanted him, you wanted to experience that kind of passion, that kind of intimacy.
Your hand trailed down your body, slowly slipping under the waistband of your panties. Your fingers brushing against your most sensitive spot. You gasped at the sensation, biting your lip as you started to circle your finger slowly.
Your eyes fluttered shut and you pictured him above you, his body pressed against yours as he kissed your neck and shoulders. Your hand moving faster as you imagined what his mouth would feel like on your skin, what it would feel like to have his lips pressed against yours.
You gasped, arching your back as you felt yourself coming undone, his name on your lips as you imagined him touching you.
Your chest was rising and falling rapidly, and you felt the aftershocks of your orgasm ripple through you. It was a satisfying release, but it left you wanting more.
You were determined to have him, to taste him, to feel him inside of you. You were going to make him yours.
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You practically skipped into the compound, giddy and excited to share your A+ grade on your paper. Elijah had been so helpful, and you couldn't wait to show him.
You heard voices coming from the courtyard, and you hurried past the gate, hoping to find him. You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him, his arms wrapped around Hayley.
Her hand was tangled in his hair, and her body was pressed against his. Their eyes were closed, and their lips were locked in a passionate kiss.
You couldn't move. Your heart was shattered. You'd been foolish, thinking you had a chance with him. He was just being nice in his typical flirty way, and you were dumb enough to think it meant more. You'd just been reading into things.
You felt tears sting your eyes, and you quickly walked past them and up to your room. You collapsed onto the bed, your heart broken.
You cried, unable to hold back the pain.
You felt so stupid.
He didn't like you, he was just being friendly. And you'd fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. How could you possibly believe someone like him could ever like someone like you?
You heard a quiet knock at your door and Rebekah walked in, she had heard you crying and came to check on you.
"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, sitting down on the bed beside you.
"I'm fine." You said, your voice hoarse.
"Just crying for fun then?" She said, giving you a knowing look.
You sighed and sat up, wiping the tears from your face. "I'm just being silly," you said, shaking your head.
She sat down next to you and pulled you into a hug, which caused you to cry even more. She rubbed your back, trying to comfort you.
"Do you want to talk about it?" She asked.
"No, I just need to get over it." You said, your voice breaking.
"Get over what darling?" Rebekah asked, her eyes filled with concern.
"Elijah." You said, wiping away your tears.
She looked at you, confusion written all over her face.
"I may have a bit of a crush on your brother." You confessed.
She laughed, "Oh is that all? I thought you were going to say something terrible."
"What? You aren't surprised?" You asked, staring at her in disbelief.
"You're not exactly subtle, darling." She chuckled. "Your heart beats faster, making your cheeks flush, whenever he's near. And your eyes light up like Christmas morning whenever he talks to you. It's rather obvious."
You couldn't believe she had noticed all that. Damn vampires and their heightened senses, you were mortified. If Rebekah noticed then Elijah definitely did as well.
You buried your face in your hands, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.
"So why the tears?" Rebekah asked, patting you on the shoulder.
"Because I just saw him kissing Hayley."
Rebekah was quiet for a moment, thinking it over. She put her arm around your shoulders.
"That might not mean anything, they're just friends. They have a complicated history," she explained.
You shook your head, "No, I saw the way he looked at her, the way she kissed him. There's definitely something between them, and it's more than just friendship."
Rebekah sighed and hugged you again."He's an idiot, always been that way around women. Sometimes I think it's more of a blind spot for him than Klaus," she said, her voice soothing.
You chuckled and wiped away your tears.
"He'll come around eventually," she said, smiling softly. "He just needs time to figure it out."
"Figure what out?" You asked, sniffling.
"That you're the perfect girl for him," she said, giving you an affectionate smile.
You smiled back and hugged her, thankful for her support. You felt a little better, and you were glad that she didn't judge you.
"I have an idea, a way for you to make him see what a catch you are," Rebekah said, her eyes glinting.
"Really?" You asked, excited at the prospect.
"Yes and it will be a chance for you to get him alone, away from Hayley," she smirked.
"I don't want to be that girl..," you started, not sure if you should meddle.
"I am," she grinned.
You chuckled, and Rebekah began telling you the plan. You listened intently, feeling better already. You were excited, and nervous.
But mostly excited.
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Rebekah's idea was to have a costume party, she loved any excuse to throw one. It also gave you a reason to dress up, to catch Elijah's eye.
You went shopping with Rebekah, she wanted to make sure you got something that would suit your figure. She asked you what sort of theme it should be and you couldn't resist choosing one that you knew well: a medieval theme.
You found a beautiful, off the shoulder, forest green dress, with a tight laced corset that had gold threading, and long, flowing, bell sleeves. It was the perfect combination of modern and historical and it made your tits look fantastic.
Rebekah had gone with a blue version of the same dress, and the two of you were having a blast getting ready. She helped you style your hair for the night and even did your makeup, making sure that your look would draw Elijah's eye.
"Ready?" She asked, as the two of you looked at yourselves in the mirror.
"Yes," you said, trying to mask your nerves.
The two of you made your way down to the courtyard, where the party was in full swing.
Everyone was dressed in costumes from various time periods, and the atmosphere was electric. The music was loud, and people were dancing, laughing, and having a good time.
You saw Hayley and Klaus talking to some guests, and your eyes wandered around the room, looking for Elijah.
He was standing by the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He looked incredible, his dark hair perfectly styled, wearing a black velvet suit jacket with a high collar, a blue cravat and a white dress shirt.
Hayley walked up to you and Rebekah, and complimented the both of you on your dresses. She was dressed in a Victorian era gown, complete with a corset and a large bustle.
"So, where's Elijah tonight?" Rebekah asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
"Oh, he's around here somewhere," Hayley said bitterly, glancing around the room.
You felt a twinge of excitement. She sounded irritated by him. Maybe she wasn't happy in their relationship.
"What's wrong ?" Rebekah asked her, squeezing your hand subtly. You loved how sneaky she could be sometimes.
"It's just," Hayley paused, her eyes narrowing as she thought about her answer. "I don't think he's very interested in a relationship with me, he's been avoiding me all night."
Rebekah and you shared a look, a smirk playing on your lips.
"He's a hard one to read, that's for sure," you said, trying to sound sympathetic.
"I'm sorry to hear that darling, but perhaps its for the best," Rebekah added.
"Maybe, I just thought we were on the same page, I thought we had something," Hayley said, a pout forming on her lips.
You could see the pain in her eyes, and you couldn't help but feel sorry for her. You knew exactly how she felt.
"You're a gorgeous woman, and any man would be lucky to have you," Rebekah said, her voice genuine.
"Thanks," Hayley said, a sad smile on her face. "There is this guy here, his name is Jack, we've been flirting all night and he wants to dance with me," she said, looking over at a tall, handsome man in a knight costume.
"Then go," Rebekah said, smiling at her.
"Yeah, you deserve some fun," you said, trying not to sound too happy that Elijah might be single.
"Alright, I'm gonna do it," she said, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
She walked off, and Rebekah turned to you, her face breaking into a wide grin.
"How unfortunate for Hayley, how fortunate for you," she smirked.
You couldn't help but smile.
"Go, now's your chance, he's all alone." Rebekah said, her eyes scanning the room.
"I'm not going to make a fool of myself," you said, shaking your head.
"You're not going to make a fool of yourself darling, you're going to have a wonderful time," she said, giving you a little shove.
You took a deep breath and headed toward Elijah, your heart racing. He looked very similar to how he dressed in the memory he shared with you, and you felt butterflies in your stomach.
He was standing alone by the bar, his gaze distant. You walked up to him and smiled, trying to ignore the lump in your throat.
"Hey," you said, trying to sound casual. "Nice outfit, all you are missing is the ponytail,” you added, grinning at him.
"Some things are better left in the past," he teased, his eyes wandering over your dress. "You look lovely," he added, a small smile on his face.
"You like the corset?" You asked, biting your lip and giving him a twirl. You always felt so giddy around him, it made you do silly things, like this.
His eyes widened, and a smirk spread across his face. "Yes, it's quite flattering," he said, his gaze lingering on your breasts.
You blushed but maintained your composure, Elijah liked confident women, and you were going to show him what he was missing.
"Does it remind you of the era?" You asked, a flirty tone in your voice.
"No, it's far too revealing for the time period," he smirked.
"Oh, really? You didn't think this was sexy in the middle ages?" You asked, arching an eyebrow.
"I didn't say that," he chuckled.
"Good," you smiled, "I worked hard on this outfit."
He looked at you, his face full of curiosity.
"You are definitely thorough in your research," he said, his eyes twinkling.
"I forgot to tell you I got an A+ on the paper, thank you for your help," you said, smiling brightly.
"It was a purely selfish reason, I wanted an excuse to spend time with you," he said, his words catching you off guard.
"Oh, I," you stammered, not sure how to respond.
"You are always very easy to be around," he said, giving you a gentle smile.
You smiled and nodded, his compliment filling your heart with joy.
"Care to dance?" He asked, offering you his hand.
Your heart raced, and your breath caught in your throat. You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand and led you to the dance floor, his grip firm and possessive.
You looked up at him, your heart pounding. He was so handsome, and the way he was looking at you made you weak in the knees.
You closed your eyes and let him lead, the feel of his hands on your body making your blood run hot. You couldn't believe this was happening, it felt surreal.
"I have a confession," he said, his voice barely audible above the music.
"What is it?" you asked, looking into his eyes.
"You make me nervous," he stuttered, his words causing your heart to flutter.
You let out a louder laugh than you meant too, then turned bright red and some people glanced at you. You didn't want him to think you were laughing at him, but you couldn't stop.
"Me? Nervous? How do I make you nervous?" You asked, genuinely curious.
He tilted his head in confusion, a wide smile forming on his face.
"I mean, look at you," he said, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face. "You're breathtaking."
You blushed, not used to receiving such compliments. "You make me nervous too," you confessed, smiling shyly.
"I know," he smirked, causing you to blush deeper.
You gazed up at him, his brown eyes full of warmth and admiration. He truly was an incredible man.
You rested your head against his chest and closed your eyes, letting the music and the feeling of his arms around you wash over you. It felt like the most natural thing in the world, like you were made for each other. Your heart soared, you felt like you were dreaming.
He leaned down and whispered in your ear, "Do you want to go somewhere quieter?"
Your eyes snapped open and your heart raced, his question sending a rush of heat to your core.
He wanted you.
You nodded, unable to form words. He took your hand, a smirk forming on his lips as he led you toward a balcony. You followed him eagerly, your heart hammering in your chest.
The cool air hit your face, and he led you to a secluded area, away from the other party guests. You gazed at him, your desire for him overwhelming.
He placed his hands on your waist and pressed you up against the wall. His lips were mere inches from yours, his eyes burning into you.
His fingers brushed against the side of your face, then he leaned in and kissed you. It was slow and passionate, his lips soft against yours. You let out a quiet moan as you melted into his kiss.
He pulled away and looked at you, his eyes full of desire. "You have no idea how long I've wanted this," he breathed.
"Then why were you kissing Hayley?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. You felt terrible for even saying it, it made you seem jealous and possessive. You knew it wasn't fair for you to get upset at him, you had no right to. But you couldn't help it.
His eyes widened and a smirk spread across his face. "So you are jealous?"
You blushed and averted your gaze.
"It was a mistake, she caught me by surprise," he explained, his fingers brushing your hair back. "I'm sorry if I hurt you."
You nodded and looked up at him. He smiled and kissed you again, this time harder and more passionate.
He broke the kiss and whispered, "I've been drawn to you from the moment I met you."
Your heart soared at his words, your desire for him overwhelming. You wanted to feel his skin against yours, you needed him.
"Do you want to see my room? I have some books to share with you," you asked, knowing neither of you were doing any reading tonight.
He raised an eyebrow, "Lead the way," he said, his eyes twinkling.
Your heart pounded with excitement, and you took his hand in yours, leading him up to your room. You couldn't believe this was happening.
He closed the door behind him and kissed you, leading you backwards towards your bed. The back of your legs hit the edge and you fell down on the bed, your chest rising and falling rapidly. The corset making it difficult to breath, you tried to keep calm as you looked up at him. The reality was better than any fantasy you could ever dream of.
He placed his knee on the bed and leaned down to kiss you, his hands moving over your body, his fingers tugging at the laces of the corset. He did it slowly, each pull causing your breasts to spill out a little more.
He hummed softy, leaning down and kissing your neck and collarbone as your corset fell to the ground. He was so gentle with you, treating you with care, his movements deliberate and confident.
He unlaced the front of your dress, exposing your breasts. He gazed down at you, a look of wonder in his eyes. You couldn't help but blush at his reaction.
"Did you wear this in the hope I would take it off?" He asked, his voice husky.
"Maybe," you blushed.
He chuckled, leaning down and taking one of your breasts into his mouth. You let out a soft moan as he licked and sucked your nipple, his hands kneading your breast. You ran your hands through his hair, pulling him closer, needing more.
He pulled back and smiled down at you, then began to undo his cravat. You watched him eagerly, biting your lip as he pulled it off and began unbuttoning his shirt. You reached out and helped him, your hands brushing against his toned chest.
He smiled and took your hand, pressing his lips to the inside of your wrist. "I've dreamt of this moment for so long," he murmured.
He reached out and pulled your dress up over your head, leaving you in just your panties and stockings. His gaze was filled with desire as he looked down at you.
You felt confident under his gaze, he made you feel beautiful. He leaned down and kissed you again, his fingers running up your thighs, playfully pulling on your stocking and letting it snap back into place. You giggled at his teasing.
He smiled against your lips and tugged your panties off. His eyes raked over your body, his gaze filled with desire.
You reached out and helped him remove the rest of his clothes, your heart racing.
He lowered himself down on the bed beside you and pulled you into his arms, kissing you softly. His hand lifted your thigh around his hips, and he ran his fingers along your thigh and between your legs, a groan escaping his throat at the feel of how wet you were for him. You blushed at his reaction and looked away, feeling shy all of a sudden.
"Are you nervous?" He asked, looking down at you, his gaze tender and warm.
"A little, you're the first vampire I've been with," you admitted.
He chuckled, a wide smile on his face. "I promise I won't bite," he whispered, a hint of humor in his voice.
You couldn't help but giggle.
You ran your hand up and down his chest, then slowly down to his hard length. You took his shaft in your hand and began to stroke him, a low groan escaping his lips.
Your eyes locked, his gaze filled with desire as he watched you pleasure him. You increased the pressure of your strokes, rubbing the tip of him in your hand.
"You feel nice," you whispered, your lips inches from his own.
He smiled and pulled you on top of him, your breasts against his chest as he kissed you deeply, his hands gripping your ass. You grinded on him slowly, the feel of his cock against your pussy making you gasp.
You sat up and slowly sank down onto him, the feel of him inside of you making your breath catch in your throat. He felt so good.
"You're perfect," he whispered as he reached up and ran his fingers through your hair, gently tugging you back down to him, kissing you deeply. You began to rock on top of him, the friction causing you to moan softly. He ran his hands over your back, groaning into your ear as you rode him, taking him deeper.
It was slow, hot and sticky, the two of you getting to know each other's bodies, exploring and teasing. Your orgasm slowly built, your moans becoming more and more intense. You felt his grip on you tighten, his breathing becoming ragged.
Your heart pounded against his as he gazed up at you, a smile on his lips. His hands gripped your hips and he took control, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth. You gazed into each other's eyes, a silent understanding passing between the two of you. You felt a connection beyond lust or attraction, something deep and beautiful, and you knew he felt it too.
You rocked together, lost in one another, and you let yourself fall apart on top of him. Your body spasming, a long moan escaping your throat as your orgasm crashed into you, your muscles clenching around him.
He gazed up at you, his eyes filled with love and desire. "That's my girl," he whispered.
He gently rolled you on to your side, keeping your bodies connected. His fingers digging into your thigh as he held it against his hip, kissing and nuzzling your neck. He took you slowly, drawing out your pleasure as long as possible. His eyes never left yours, the love you felt for each other in that moment, palpable in the room.
Your fingers tangled into his hair, you tugged his head towards yours as you kissed him. He kissed you back, his movements becoming more frantic, his thrusts deep and rough.
His eyebrows arched upwards, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. Your clung to his shoulders, moaning his name as he found his release deep inside of you. He held you close as he came down, the two of you a tangle of limbs and sweaty bodies.
He kept kissing you, soft and unhurried, his hand stroking your thigh, keeping you connected and still wrapped around him. You both caught your breath as you held each other close, neither wanting the moment to end.
"I've had a crush on you since the first day I saw you," you murmured into his ear, causing him to pull away and smile.
He leaned down and kissed your forehead, "And I, you."
He gently slipped out of you and pulled the sheets over your naked bodies, his arms encircling you in his embrace. You fell asleep in each other's arms, content and happy, dreaming of more nights just like this.
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{Moodboard->}
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clownd1ck · 3 months
Text
trouble, j. miller | chapter one
mob!joel miller x fem!reader
chapter summary: after getting fired from your job at the bookstore, your grandparents introduce you to the man who’s been helping them out for awhile: joel miller. now, it’s his turn to help you.
chapter warnings: reader swears and has dry humour (she’s a bit of me x), mentions of vip’s getting touchy but it’s hypothetical if that makes sense?? reader calls her grandparents ‘pops’ and ‘nonna’, no beta cause i cba, blah blah blah that’s it
also no hate to anyone who reads romance/physical smut books, the hate is simply towards minors who read them & their parents for allowing them LOL
word count: 2518
(series masterlist)
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you really don’t know how much longer you can do this.
you’re six hours into your ten hour shift. you’re bored, you haven’t had your lunch break, and your phone is charging behind the desk where you were watching criminal minds before two teenage girls walked into the bookstore.
you’ve watched them for the past twenty minutes. they practically ran to the romance section, picking up books and flicking to certain pages you know had the most pornographic scenes in them before they’d giggle amongst themselves and add it to the pile they were building.
can teenage girls even afford this many books? you had been working since you were sixteen, and you’d barely get enough money to buy yourself two books whilst the rest would be stored away for college. and is this what people were reading nowadays? a male character that exudes toxic masculine standards whilst the author plays into the whole “innocent, virginal” female character who hadn’t the slightest clue about sex or life? is this what parents were allowing their children to-
“we want these books.” a demanding voice speaks to you, and you almost have to do a double take when you see the two teenage girls stood before you at the counter. god, you couldn’t even rely on the younger generation to be polite these days, especially not when one of them is judging you for your oversized hoodie and sweats and the crocs that sit on your feet.
“of course.” you force a smile, biting back on the insults you wish to hurl upon them. but, your boss is in the back. probably doing jackshit like she usually does, leaving you to work your ass off without any breaks.
the scanner scans the barcode on the back of every book before placing them in two bags. dante’s nine circles of hell sounds more appealing than this. you might just grab one of the books and hit yourself with it, hoping you hit so hard you might pass out and get to leave early. not like your boss would allow it, but the thought of having a hot shower and slipping into bed sounded nice.
“and your total is $194.68, is that going to be cash or card?” you rest your hands on the counter, looking at the two girls. one of them whips out a card, so black and matte you almost feel the courage to ask her if: it’s her fathers, and if so, is he single?
you hand her the card machine where she taps the card, and once the payment is deemed successful, one of the girls takes the bag, looks into it and frowns. “these aren’t in the right order.”
“excuse me?”
“the books aren’t in the right order.”
there’s a right order to put books in. none of them were even a series, and even then, does it really matter if your fucking fairy porn trilogy is separated?
“did you ask for them in a certain order?”
the girl gives you a look. “no?”
“so then why would i know what order to put them in?” you’re so done. you’re so fucking done, mentally, physically, and in the eyes of your boss, as well. the girls look at you, mouths agape, probably because they didn’t think they’d be spoken to this way, but you always said that the second a customer is rude to you, you’re being rude back.
the duo scowl at you as they leave the store, muttering insults under their breaths like it was a middle school friendship break up. you sigh, going to turn around to grab your phone when you jump back, spotting your boss leant against the wall.
“you’re fired.” she states.
“yes!” you fist pump the air sarcastically, grabbing your stuff and practically racing out the store. you didn’t even care if you were supposed to wait until the end of your shift to fully leave your job. you were hungry, tired, and your pops and nonna had told you that pops’ infamous burgers would be made for dinner and you were eager.
on your walk home, you listen to your music. it was relatively dark outside, and ideally, as a woman, you shouldn’t be wearing headphones in the dark. but you had always been more frightened by the noises you could hear rather than the ones you couldn’t.
you step into your home, taking your shoes off by the door and walk into the kitchen. you stop at the sight. your pops and nonna were stood in the kitchen talking to a man you have never seen before and you’re almost offended that your grandparents hadn’t allowed you to meet him because jesus christ and all things holy, that man is beautiful.
he’s tall. scarily tall, actually. and not to say you have a thing for muscular men but you would not mind letting this stranger throw you about. he leans on the kitchen counter, arms folded across his chest as he eyes you up.
“he. who is he?” you point to the man, looking at your grandparents.
your nonna tuts your name. “he is joel miller, helps us out where we need it. why are you home so early, sugar, i thought you had a ten hour shift today?” nonna embraces you, kissing your cheek as she taps your arm, signaling for you to sit down at the kitchen table.
a faux laugh escapes you. “heh, well, you see-”
“don’t tell me that damn boss of yours ‘s been givin’ you a hard time again.” your pops speaks up this time, interrupting you this time. your pops was a scary man. he used to be involved in a lot of shit back in the day, constantly being chased down streets and alleyways by the police, always having them on his doorstep which would cause his mother to scold him. you can’t count the amount of times he’s threatened to come down and give your boss an earful on both hands.
“she actually fired me. apparently addressing one’s stupidity isn’t allowed. however, i am more focused on joel. joel, what is your purpose in this here house?” your head turns to look at the man as he addresses you, and he gives you a small smirk, walking over to the table and sitting across from you.
“she got a mouth on her, don’t she?” he asks your grandparents, and your nonna chuckles.
“always has. only started living with us when she was eighteen because of college, but she’s always had something to say.”
“something that’s gotta be shared with everyone.” your pops adds, and you give him a playful pout.
“right here guys, right here.” you announce. “back to the topic at hand. joel, why have you interrupted my pops’ burger night?” you’re facing each other now, your eyes analysing his face but all he does is smirk and since when was smirking so attractive on a man?
“well, your grandparents here mentioned how you hated your job, and i just so happen to have one that needs filled at one of my clubs.” his texan accent was prominent and full as he spoke, his brown eyes never leaving yours. “‘s if you want it, of course.”
“what club?”
“apocalypse.”
you slam your hands on the table with a wide grin. “i’m sold. when do i start?”
joel chuckles. “no questions about the pay, the shifts?”
you shake your head. “nope, don’t care. you know how hard that club is to get into?” you turn your head to look at your grandparents. “extremely fucking hard, i’ll tell you that right now. and i’ll get to work in there? god, life is so generous to me sometimes.” you exhale lightly, jokingly.
joel doesn’t stay for your pops’ burgers, but he’s given some to take home anyway. you decide to walk him to the door, being the ever so kind woman that you were, ready to see him off when he stops.
“ya’ start at five p.m. tomorrow, alright? i’ll have someone show you around, get you your uniform ‘nd all that before the club opens.”
nodding your head at joel, you bid him goodbye and watch as he makes his way to a sleek, black porsche, get in, and drive off.
____
“what do you mean you’re working for joel miller?” alicia asks you. alicia was the first friend you made at college after you chewed her ear off for the entirety of your first class. a girl who followed gothic fashion and was an absolute sweetheart compared to the people you’ve known in the past.
“i mean exactly what i said, babe. he’s apparently been looking after my grandparents for awhile and he offered me a job at apocalypse after that old bitch fired me.” you shrug, taking a bite of burger you got from dining hall.
“but joel miller is…he’s dangerous! everyone says his clubs are just money laundering schemes to hide his actual money.” naomi spoke up this time. ever the worrier, she was.
“money laundering would mean that no one was using his clubs and they were just there, naomi. the clubs are exclusive. i mean, we’ve all seen the lines to get in. we’ve been in those lines!” alicia somewhat comes to your defense even though you know she’s fully against you working there.
“my friend tina, the one from the political science class, worked there last year, and she says the pay is amazing!” a woman with black curls approaches your trio, another close friend of yours: georgia. “don’t get me wrong, she said some shady stuff happens in the v.i.p. lounge, but probably just guys gambling or something.”
you embrace georgia. “see, good pay and all i have to do is not ask questions. i’ll be fine, guys. and you,” you look at georgia “need to meet me at our cafe so you can tell me about that little masc lesbian of yours.”
you finish the rest of your burger, and pick up your bag. “gotta get home, but i’ll fill you all when i see you.”
you wave goodbye to your friends, walking out of the building as you scroll on your phone. when you get to the street, you bump into someone, about to apologise until you look up and gasp dramatically. “you! are you stalking me. god, joel, i didn’t know i was worth being stalked. that’s so flattering.”
joel scoffs, and opens the passenger door to his black porsche. “get in. ‘m gonna drive you down to the club.”
“don’t have to tell me twice.” you get into the passenger seat, placing your bag down in between your legs and joel closed your door. he rounds the front, getting in beside you and starts the car.
“ya’ hungry?” he asks, driving away from your college building.
“i ate just before i left. had a cheeseburger. not the most edible thing i’ve ever had, but it worked.”
“if you’re hungry when we get there, i’ll take ya’ down to the kitchen and grab you somethin’ there. house mom might have some snacks for ya’ too.”
brows furrowed, you turn to look at him. “the fuck is a house mom?”
“older woman who works with the dancers, takes care of ‘em in between dances. she’ll have snacks, spare outfits or shoes, hygiene products. helps ‘em all like a mom would.”
“nice.” you nod your head, and soon you’re in the private parking lot for the club. joel gets out first, rounding to your side and opening the door up for you. “gotta love a southern gentleman.” you snicker, walking into the club behind him.
he walks up a set of marbled stairs, heading to the second floor. “you’ll be working in the v.i.p. lounge, ‘s where all the dancers are and most of our staff.”
the second floor of the club is lit with red led lights, creating a sultry atmosphere. there are private rooms scattered all around, but there are booths scattered in the middle. joel walks you down to a hidden room and opens the door.
“this is my office. you can put your shit in here.” you walk in and place your bag down on the cushioned sofa, taking a seat beside your belongings. “i’m here when i’m not in the booths doing business, but if anything happens out there, ya’ come and find me, alright?”
you nod your head at him.
“all v.i.p’s know dancers and staff aren’t to be touched, but you gotta promise you’ll come find me if that rule is broken.” after promising, he continues. “i’ll take you down to adele and see if she’s got any spare uniform for you. she’ll walk you through anything else.”
joel guides you down the haul with a hand on your lower back, and if there was a camera following you, you would’ve hand an office moment with this simple touch.
“momma!” joel yells, knocking on a pink door.
the door opens, and an african-american woman opens it. she looks at joel, then you, and embraces you in a tight hug. “welcome, baby. this the new girl we’ve been hearing about?”
“yes ma’am!” you answer before joel can, shooting him a shit-eating grin.
joel speaks your name, and your eyes meet his. “go inside while i talk to adele, she’ll be back to help you in a minute.”
as you step inside the room, you’re met with an abundance of dancers. some are singing, doing their hair and make up, zipping up their heels, and others are lay on sat around eating some snacks.
“hi guys!” you wave at everyone, and they all squeal when they see you, immediately asking questions.
you answer them as best as you can until adele comes in. “now, i gotta get her some heels and her uniform, and when i come back-” adele glances around the room, pointing at an east asian woman with pin straight black hair. “lucy, do her make up, just so she knows what the standard is. your hair is fine, baby, don’t need anyone touching that.”
lucy smiles and waves at you, and you return it as adele leads you into the changing rooms. “uniforms are simple. black shorts, black long sleeve, and…what size shoe are you, baby?”
you respond, and she goes over to a rack of black, leather heeled boots. they’re platformed, shiny, and you know your feet are going to hurt the second your shift is done. “and these. i’ll let you get changed and you just come straight out when you’re done. help yourself to some snacks as well.”
“i don’t have to pay you for them?”
adele chuckles. “no, baby. joel gives me the money to buy the snacks. anything for you girls, joel pays for.” and with that, she leaves the room.
you sigh, looking at the mirror in front of you. this was a new job, with a hot boss, and from what you could tell, the rest of the girls in there were lovely.
this was your life now.
____
a/n: first chapter mother fuckers let’s GOOOOO
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