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brain-rot-central · 2 months

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Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 4

A/N: Confrontation time. Here we go, y'all. I'm tagging this as borderline non-con for the ending. It steps into some murky territory that some may feel uncomfortable with. But hey, we're dealing with AA, after all. I'll also be linking a post reference within the text here; please click the link when you see it! It'll help you visualize a certain part. 🌝 Thank you all for the support thus far! I hope you enjoy reading ❤️

Rating: Explicit Word count: 7.7k Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (named) Warnings: 18+, non-con (somewhat; literally touches the border of it), absolutely dubcon, mentions of pregnancy, mention of virginity loss, loss of innocence, manipulative behaviors, toxic relationship, discussions of death and murder, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, PiV sex, PiV sex while pregnant, blood drinking, mother-fuckin' vampire sex boiiiiiiiiii (sorry these tags are way too serious and I am not)

Summary: Tav arrives at the Crimson Palace, poised for a confrontation with Astarion. A delicate dance ensues.

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3

It takes a moment for her eyes to adjust as she enters, but once they do, the sight before her nearly robs her of all speech and reason.

Illuminated by candelabras, Tav gasps in awe at the renovations to the interior of the manor. The once drab and outdated decor has been ripped out, heart and soul, and replaced with… white. So much white.

White walls, white marble flooring with golden accents, tall white marble columns. A generous crystal chandelier hangs from the ceiling, Tav looking up. Her vision comes down to settle on the plush red carpet lining the foyer, stretching through the hall and into the ballroom. The reflection of the candlelight shimmers along the marble floors. A sunset on the water… Tav notes offhandedly to herself.

A commemoration to their moment of triumph over the Absolute.

They all stood atop the dock watching the sun set over the horizon, sunlight glinting off the sea. The moment the tadpole vanished, Astarion became free. Truly and completely free.

A life regained, a future unwritten.

Reborn anew.

As she continues to drink in the new additions to the palace, Tav sees a figure approach from the corner of her eye. She turns her head to observe an older human woman making her way down the carpet, a smile set upon her slightly wrinkled face.

“Good evening, young miss,” the woman greets with a short bow. “Have you come to ask for an audience with Lord Ancunín?”

Tav remains silent for a moment as she quickly gives the woman a glance over. Gray hair with a time-worn face, albeit one that still shows the beauty she once beheld. She wears a simple long black dress with long sleeves, a white apron tied around her waist. Her shoes are black with a big metal buckle adorning the top of each. “I beg pardon for my current appearance,” the woman offers, giving the apron a quick pat down. “It isn’t often we have visitors this time in the evening.”

“No…” Tav begins, voice trailing off as she regroups her thoughts. “Not an audience, no. I’m…” Her chest thumps as she ponders their relationship. “...A friend of Astarion's. Is he home?”

“The young Master is in, yes; though I'm afraid he's currently occupied.” As if sensing Tav’s disappointment, the woman questions, “May I ask who you are?”

Tav nods her head respectfully. “I'm Tav.” The woman quirks a questioning brow. “Tavaria,” she adds quickly. “I was a traveling companion to Astarion over a year ago.”

And much more…

A spark shoots across the woman's vision and Tav recoils backward, readying herself.

“Ah!” the woman exclaims joyfully, “Lady Tavaria!” The woman bows earnestly. “Lord Ancunín extends his warmest greetings to you. Welcome to the Crimson Palace.”

With a smile, Tav softens her stance. She bows in return. “Thank you. It's… definitely different than before,” she comments while looking around the room.

“Ah, yes,” the woman agrees, “Master Astarion has renovated the manor to his distinct liking after the untimely passing of its prior occupant.”

“I see,” Tav states with a laugh. “This is all… very Astarion.” Elegant and refined.

All for show.

Continuing her observation of the room, a painting hanging on the middle wall catches Tav's eyes. She walks toward the painting, stopping just in front of it.

It's a black and white piece, looking to have been drawn in charcoal, depicting a man and woman sharing an intimate embrace. Both are naked, the woman's face obscured by her pose as she bows her back while offering her throat to the man. His head rests within her neck, his long black hair flowing down his back. The accompanying piece focuses solely on the man. The lustful look demonstrated in the man's half-lidded eyes as he looks up from the woman's throat has Tav shaking where she stands.

She's seen that look before. Not unlike how Astarion has looked at her.

The servant woman smiles, still standing in the same spot, clasping her hands together. “You must be exhausted, dearie,” she says, cutting through the silence. “Shall I direct you to your chambers?”

Tav blinks rapidly and turns her head to the woman. “I’m sorry, but did you say ‘my chambers?’” She shakes her head with a short laugh. “I don't live here.”

“But of course, my lady,” offers the servant. “Master Astarion has asked that we offer it as an option should you ever visit the manor.” She nods her head with another beatific smile. “There is no obligation. It is simply a kind gesture.” She bows, courteously, “My apologies for any offense I may have given, Lady Tavaria.”

Tav nods briefly, turning away from the woman as her mind races. He made me a bloody bedroom? She lifts her head and once again finds the picture on the wall. A chill travels up her neck as she locks eyes with the intense gaze of the man in the painting. Her breath hitches.

“Do you know when Astarion will be available?” Tav asks hurriedly, looking toward the woman.

The servant shakes her head. “I'm afraid I do not, though I can set you up in the study while you wait?” Smiling again, the woman walks across the room to a set of double doors on the far right. She opens them wide and gestures to Tav, welcoming her to enter.

Clutching her satchel, Tav walks through the threshold and into the office. It's rather standard when compared to the rest of the manor; dark green carpeting and wood panel walls. Multiple bookcases that are carved into the walls, holding a plethora of tomes. A couple glass display cases are near the large window on the far side of the room. The evening sunlight pours in from the wide window and onto the chaise lounge adjacent to it; a relaxing spot for one who wishes to bask in the sun.

The solid, dark wooden desk across from the double doors has a number of loose papers strewn about the top. An ornate wooden chair sits behind the desk, purple velvet upholstery with golden Damask patterns lining the back and seat. Two simple royal blue armchairs sit before the desk, signaling the office’s likely use for business gatherings.

“Please, make yourself at home,” the older woman says from behind as she enters the room. She walks over to the desk and gathers the documents into a single pile. “Would you care for something to drink, my lady? I'd be happy to bring you something after informing Lord Ancunín of your presence.”

Tav turns her head in acknowledgement of the older woman. “I'm quite well, thank you.” She furrows her brow. “Though, I didn't catch your name before.”

The woman freezes momentarily before bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Oh, my goodness!” she exclaims in embarrassment, bringing her hands to her cheeks. “Where are my manners today?” She quickly bows. “Magdalena, my lady. A true pleasure to make your acquaintance. My sincerest apologies.”

“It’s quite alright, Magdalena. No harm done,” Tav says with a calming wave of her hand. She walks toward the grand window and turns to face the older woman again. “Thank you for your hospitality thus far. I’ll settle myself in.”

With a nod of her head, Magdalena begins to exit the study. “Of course, Lady Tavaria. I’ll inform Master Astarion of your presence at once.” The doors close behind her with a soft click, and suddenly, Tav is alone.

She removes the satchel from around her chest, depositing the bag onto the chaise lounge. Her hat and scarf are next to join as she shakes out her hair. Tav tries to look through the frosted glass window without success. The opacity is too intense to make out anything more than muddled blobs. Turning around, she begins to walk the perimeter of the room, stopping in front of a large glass display case with a large book resting within. The cover of the book is adorned with skin, stitched into the pattern of a screaming face. An amethyst jewel sits within the face’s open mouth. Tav recalls the long nights and early mornings Astarion spent reasoning with this book until finally uncovering its secrets.

The Necromancy of Thay.

Of course he kept it.

She continues on, noting each small trinket that sits within the shelves of the grand bookcases. Slipping her hands behind her back, Tav peers over the wooden desk and observes the pile of documents on top. She pops her head up to briefly scan the room. Satisfied that she has clear advantage, she takes a hand to swipe over the letters.

There are various invitations to grand balls in distant kingdoms, letters of gratitude from high nobles, bills of sale… Tav’s eyes widen as she spots a familiar name amongst the many signatures.

With deepest admiration, Araj Oblodra

Tav reaches over and picks up the letter off the desk, holding it steady with both hands as she skims through the contents. From what she gathers, it sounds as if Araj has learned of Astarion’s new circumstances. She’s highly apologetic for her past behavior and would very much like an opportunity to show her sincerest gratitude. The letter goes on further to imply that they take the chance to get to know one another better, and perhaps they can even become allies.

Tav scoffs as she places the piece of paper back down on the desk.

She resumes her roaming when she settles on a small jewelry case on the top left of the desk. Walking around the edge, Tav fixates on the case, a startled gasp slips past her lips as she recognizes the jewelry within.

Resting atop a red velvet cushion lay a golden ring with a turquoise stone in its center. One half of a matching set of rings she had found during their journey through the Shadow-Cursed Lands. Tav was in possession of both rings for quite some time, going back and forth with herself about whether giving him one half would be too much.

She’d grown to like him; really-really like him, but she’d no idea if he felt the same. It wasn’t until the night of Astarion’s confession that Tav made her decision. Feeling the tension within his body as she wrapped her arms around his waist, yet fighting through his hesitation to return her embrace. It was enough to convince her that he truly did want to give them a try.

She presented the ring to him the following morning as they packed up camp.

“...A bit soon for a proposal, no?” quips Astarion, expression smug.

Tav stands before him. A ring with a golden aura lays within the palm of her hand, held out in silent offer. “N-no!” she stammers, the ghost of a blush tinting her cheeks. She averts her gaze as she says, “It's an enchanted ring.”

Astarion raises an eyebrow in question. “I can see that quite clearly, dear. But what does it do?”

Turning to look at him under her eyes, Tav replies shyly, “...It allows me to cast a special protection spell on you.” Her cheeks burn hot, her skin beginning to prickle.

His eyes darken as he leans forward. “Oh,” Astarion teases, voice velvet, “you wish to be my Knight?” He begins to move into her, hovering his lips just above hers. “You want to save a poor, innocent maiden such as I,” he coos. “Is that it, darling?”

They spent the majority of the following night rutting feverishly against one another, sharing a mutual need to scrub their underclothes in the river the morning after. From that point forward, each wore their respective ring around the fourth finger of the left hand.

Commotion outside the office brings Tav back to the present. She hears the voice of a woman, though not of the servant from earlier. Tav sneaks closer toward the doors, placing her ear to the wood to hopefully catch some of the conversation.

Still muffled, she thinks with a scowl. Drawing a deep breath in, Tav makes a quick split decision and grabs hold of the doorknob, twisting it gently. She feels the lock unlatch and pulls the door open just enough to allow for a small sliver of visibility. Tav strains against the door as she tries to find a better angle.

A tall elven woman with long blonde hair stands in the foyer exchanging words with Magdalena. Dressed in professional attire, she hands the maid a business card as they exchange pleasantries. Tav catches the woman's head beginning to turn toward the direction of the office and Tav quickly steps out of sight, holding her breath, heart flying within her chest. A few moments pass without incident before Tav slowly inches toward the crack in the door. She finds Magdalena bowing as the elf takes her leave of the manor.

There isn't much time to ponder who this mysterious woman is – the sound of footsteps marching along marble flooring fills the air.

“Good evening, Master,” greets Magdalena, kneeling in a curtsy.

“Good evening, my dear.” A man's voice, deep and smooth. Perfectly poised. Her stomach lurches; she knows that voice.

Tav holds her breath as talk continues just beyond the door. She quickly scans the room to determine which is closer – the blue armchair sitting before the desk, or the chaise lounge near the window.

As the man's footsteps draw closer to the door Tav bolts for the armchair, sitting promptly. She adjusts herself to appear as if she's been waiting patiently for his arrival all this time.

“Odd that the door is already open,” Tav hears the man comment from just beyond the door.

Shit.

A flash of embarrassing heat crawls up her neck. Magdalena mutters something to Astarion under her breath, but it's too quiet for Tav to make out. The doors suddenly swing open and Tav remains still, trying desperately to settle the overactive current that is her nerves.

She smells him first before she sees him – the signature scent of rosemary, bergamot and brandy encompassing the quaint office. “Thank you, Magdalena. Now, please, carry on,” he says smoothly.

Tav hears the man begin to approach from behind, placing the palms of his hands atop her shoulders. “I’m sure you've done a fine job at making our Lady feel welcome, hmm?” He squeezes her shoulders, Tav flinching beneath his grasp.

Tav tries desperately to resist the urge to look at him. When she closes her eyes she envisions the sharpness of his jaw behind her mind's eye, coupled with the smell of his cologne that’s currently assaulting her senses – she simply cannot look at him. If she does, she's going to fall.

She'll forget about the murders. Forget how angry she is that he dared come to her in a state of blood-crazed lust. That she carries a child he knows nothing about, that he can never know anything about.

If she looks at his face, so perfectly sculpted by the Gods themselves, she's going to forget every reason as to why she should stay far, far away from this man. Longing for nothing more than to fall into his arms for the rest of eternity.

“Y-yes,” Tav replies, nervously. “You've been ever so kind, Magdalena. Thank you.” Finally, she turns, eyes meeting with the servant woman. Tav feels the pale elf's searing gaze upon her skin as she deliberately looks past him, the hands on her shoulders relaxing.

“Wonderful,” he sings with a wave of his hand. “Now leave us, Magdalena.” He walks around Tav, coming to lean against the lip of the office desk. “The Lady and I have much to discuss,” he purrs, leaning over as he places a hand upon her jaw. Slowly he tilts her face upright, staring directly into her eyes. “Isn't that right, love?”

Within an instant, she feels faint. An unsettling warmth begins to spread. “Yes, Astarion,” Tav murmurs softly as his fingers slip down her neck. Her eyes flutter closed as the hand inevitably falls free of her. Astarion slowly leans back and upright, a hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. He breaks eye contact to focus on Magdalena.

The servant woman bows, closing the doors behind her with an audible ‘thud’ as she takes her leave. The room is silent then. Tav’s heart pounds in her ears as she stares beyond Astarion again, focusing on the ring box at the corner of the desk. She only realizes how rapidly she's breathing as the sound reaches her ears.

“Are you alright, dear?” Astarion’s smooth voice cuts through. “You look as though you've seen a ghost.”

Raising her head, Tav meets his eyes. He stands before her, concern written across his features. For a split second, Tav sees him – the dashing rogue she fell in love with.

The way Astarion is knitting his brow, wide glassy eyes studying her. It's all very much like him.

“I’m fine,” she forces out, swallowing hard.

“Did Magdalena offend you?” Astarion asks urgently.

Tav shakes her head. “No, she truly has been pleasant.”

He leans over her again. Astarion drags a finger delicately up the side of her cheek. “Then why do you cry?”

Immediately Tav raises a hand to her opposite cheek. Moisture coats her fingertips as she finds a stray tear rolling down her cheek. She’s unsure when or why she’s begun to weep, wiping the tear away with the back of her hand. Tav pulls herself out of Astarion’s touch with a slight groan.

“I-I’m fine, really,” she insists. “I… came to see you.”

The vampire's expression softens as he tilts his head. “I haven't come to you in some time,” Astarion says, walking toward a carafe of wine sitting atop a metal cart near the window. “I apologize for that.” He speaks over his shoulder, pouring the wine out into a glass. He gestures with the carafe briefly to Tav; she shakes her head. “Although, I can't say I anticipated you showing up here.” Placing the carafe back down on the cart, Astarion turns, lips pulling into a smirk as he brings the wine glass to his lips. “Is it true then, what they say? Has absence made your heart grow fonder?”

Tav stands and turns to Astarion, giving him a full glance over. He wears a simple white dress shirt, the top few buttons undone revealing glimpses of his sculpted chest. His trousers are something she’s unfamiliar with – a type of woven cotton in a particular vertical design, and dyed blue. Indigo blue. He's wearing a black belt, threaded into loops within the pants around his hips. Tav imagines there's a fastener under the belt buckle, but also something else to help secure the garment. Something metal running down the front seam of the pants. Her eyes finish their course down his legs to find a simple pair of polished black loafers.

“...I'll take that as a yes,” Astarion comments with a quirk of his brow. He returns from across the room to once again take his place leaning against the desk in front of Tav, setting the wine glass down.

“N-no,” Tav blurts out, “I mean yes, but…” She feels the warmth of embarrassment crawl up her neck, nipping along her skin as it floods her face.

A hand rises to move her hair gently aside. Astarion leans forward and dips his head into the crook of her neck, planting chaste kisses along the tender flesh. “I missed you,” he whispers into her skin. Hot puffs of breath spread over her neck and Tav shudders. Almost instinctively, she raises her head to allow Astarion better access to her throat; her eyes flutter closed. His hand in her hair winds around the back of her head, gently guiding Tav’s head further to the side before falling to her hip.

Tav gasps as Astarion pulls their bodies flush against one another. His arousal has yet to awaken, though she can still feel the outline of him against her core. She groans as he rolls her hips into her again and again; slow, languid thrusts that have bolts of pleasure shooting up from between her thighs and spreading like wildfire through her body.

“Astarion…” Tav protests weakly, raising a hand to cover Astarion's on her hip. “I didn't come here for this.”

He purrs into her throat, gently nipping and teasing the skin around her scars with blunted teeth. “Oh, no? Are you sure?” Astarion pulls her into him again while imitating a piercing bite into her neck.

She moans, louder than she means to, finally feeling the rigidness of his cock firmly against her sex. Her head falls against his shoulder as he continues rolling his hips against her, hardly noticing Astarion moving his hand from her hip to her lower back. A spark of panic zaps through her addled mind as she realizes where this is heading.

“Y-yes, I'm sure,” she insists, somehow managing to pull herself out of Astarion's embrace. The room spins around her as she turns to face him. “There's something I wanted to discuss with you,” she says breathlessly, vision finally starting to clear.

His expression falls, replaced by smug dissatisfaction. “You came halfway across the city… just to talk?” asks Astarion, narrowing his eyes.

Tav nods her head in agreement. “Yes, it's something rather important.”

Astarion groans low in his throat, grabbing the glass of wine off the desk and walking toward the office window. He brings the crimson liquid to his lips and takes a strong sip. “You could have sent a damned pigeon, if that's all you wanted,” he snides over his shoulder.

“Not about this.” Tav feels her throat run dry as she speaks. Her lust has settled for now, replaced by the live wire of anticipation.

“About what?” Astarion growls defensively. He spins around, entire body leaning into his words. Like an animal being cornered.

Tav flinches reflexively. It’s rare that Astarion ever raises his voice to her, even during disagreements. She swallows, hardening her resolve. “Don’t use that tone with me.”

Astarion hisses through clenched teeth, taking another long drink from his wine glass. His face softens. “I'm sorry, love, but I'm having a very rough time ascertaining what could ever be so important that you felt the need to bring yourself here,” he gestures wildly to the floor below him, “to me, just to talk?”

She doesn't respond.

The tension eases from his form as he studies Tav, clearly shaken by his display. He sucks his teeth in defeat. “Oh, for the love of Shar’s cunt, fine,” he groans. “If you're going to look at me like that, then fine, I'll bite.” He comes to rest on the chaise lounge near the window, knees spread wide, his forearms resting over the tops of his thighs. “So, what can I do for you, my friend?”

Tav winces, looking down at her hands as she fidgets her fingers. He's being heavily sarcastic, though at least it's an invitation to continue. “...There was an article recently in the Gazette,” she begins, voice quivering. “That spoke of a murder within the sewers.”

Astarion scoffs. “Unsurprising for those cesspits, but do carry on.”

Her eyes shift momentarily to his face before falling back to the floor. “It's reported that there were five victims in total. Three had their throats slashed, while the other two…” her voice trails off as her throat tightens. Tav tries to swallow, but nothing goes down. Panic rises within her, adrenaline building.

“The other two what, dear?” Astarion's voice is dark, firm. He stands from his place on the lounge, walking slowly over to Tav. He stands before her, brows pulled together, his eyes cast down upon her face. A hand comes up to lift her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Tell me,” he demands.

She gasps, Tav finally saying with some hesitation, “They had fang marks… embedded in their throats. Resembling the scars I bear.” She blinks. “The ones you gave me,” she adds, quietly.

His eyes darken with malice as his face contorts. His grip on her chin tightens, forcibly lifting her head to the side to observe her branding. Astarion pulls in a full breath as he looks over her neck, mouth dropping open in an exasperated exhale.

“...Do you know anything about this?” Tav chokes out, eyelashes fluttering rapidly.

“And why would I know anything about that, hmm?” Astarion lowers his head into the crook of her neck, panting heavily against her skin. Tav shakes from their proximity. He then drags his lips up the side of her face, resting them against her ear. “I'm not the only monster lurking in the shadows,” he whispers.

The hand on her chin falls to her hip, guiding her gently toward the lip of the desk. “I know how you think of me, darling.” Tav sucks in a sharp breath as her backside bumps into the wood. “That I’m the big bad wolf coming to steal you away in the night.” Astarion buries his nose within her hair, inhaling deeply as he pulls their bodies flush together again.

“A-answer the question, Astarion,” Tav insists, her head beginning to cloud.

“Oh, but wouldn't you rather hear what I miss most about you, Tavaria?” he growls into her ear. “What memories play incessantly again and again in my mind?” Astarion grinds himself against her center again, coaxing a suggestive moan out of Tav. Her arms rise to encircle his neck, her resolve beginning to shatter.

“A-Astarion,” Tav whines desperately. “D-don’t…”

He drops his head to rest their foreheads together, lips practically touching. “I miss how you’d writhe in my lap as I'd drink from you,” Astarion confesses. He pulls at her bottom lip, suckling the flesh between his. “The way you flutter around my cock when you fall off the edge for me.” He kisses her more thoroughly this time, groaning softly into her mouth as Tav’s jaw slackens. “But, do you know what I miss above all else?” suggests Astarion, pulling back. He dips his head again into the nape of her neck, a hand rising to gently hold the opposite side of her face.

Tav grasps at the linen of his dress shirt, bunching the fabric within the palms of her hands. She's now rocking her hips in rhythm with his, a smoldering fire now roaring to life deep within her belly. Her body calls for him, and Tav wonders briefly if he can hear it.

The crazed beating of her heart? The lone song it sings only for him? The proof of their union that grows within?

“Your blood,” Astarion speaks against her skin. Suddenly he places his mouth over her scars and sucks voraciously, like a man starved. Tav moans, buckling at the knees momentarily. She grabs at his hair, threading her fingers deep against their roots for leverage. “Gods, there's nothing quite like the vintage of your blood,” he continues as he unlatches from her throat. The delicacy of her skin has given way to a mauve bloom; he smiles as he pulls away.

She shakes beneath him. If it weren't for the desk behind her, Tav would certainly collapse. He's trying to seduce her. Fuck her into submission – make her crave him so that she's more pliable, in whichever way he desires. These are his classic manipulation tactics, not unlike their humble beginnings.

“I know w-what you're doing, Astarion,” Tav says. “Don’t toy with me.”

He laughs – a quick condescending sound breaking free from his lips. “Oh, darling, you've been toying with me for months now. I'm very aware,” Astarion says with a smirk. He cranes his head. “Our dance is always the same – we fight, we kiss, and then I make the sweetest love to you as you weave your fingers between the very threading of my soul, ripping my heart free of my chest,” he adds with a sneer, pounding a fist over his heart.

Astarion pauses for a brief moment to stare at her. He pulls in a quick breath and his face softens. “And I let you, every time.” Tav gasps as the hand holding her face slides to her chin, fingers tracing the outline of her lips. “But you?” he continues, gesturing to a shelf on the wall behind them with a nod of his head, “You keep yours high on a shelf, completely out of reach. No matter how I clamor for it.”

Astarion releases her, hands entirely off her being as he steps back. “I lay myself bare for you every time. But you refuse to see it. Refuse to see me, beyond the glitz and glamor.” He knits his brow again, and Tav swears she sees a hint of moisture gather at the edges of his eyes. “Yet, I say nothing, because this is the only way you allow me to have you. And I’d rather have some of you than nothing at all.”

Silence blankets them both.

Has she been unfair to him? Cruel? Has she so sorely misjudged who he’s become? Tav shifts her gaze down to the floor as the questions mount. Maybe he isn’t this grand demon she’s characterized him to be. His talk of power and control after the ritual – perhaps it was a rush of emotions? The first taste of freedom after so many years of indentured servitude? He seems more settled now, not in so much of a rush to bend the entire city to his will.

Perhaps… she was wrong?

“So, may we skip straight to the finale?” says Astarion, distracting her from her thoughts, “Because I’m not quite sure how much more of this I can take.”

Her mouth hangs open, too stunned to speak. Tav looks up; she meets his eyes.

Maniacal laughter as he bathes in a glowing red aura of 7000 souls extinguished.

His face when the ritual was complete. The way he roared. How he laughed.

No, she's not wrong for mistrusting him. He's worse than a devil themselves.

They stare into one another's eyes, the tension swirling about the room thickening. Tav blinks; he still hasn't answered her question.

“You still haven't answered my question, Astarion.”

She stands firm.

He scoffs, turning his head toward the grand window. Astarion runs a hand over his face; he bites the top of a finger. “No,” he answers sternly, dropping the hand from his mouth. “I don't take particular interest in what happens within the bowels of this city.” He glances down at the fingernails of his closed fist, rubbing them across the front of his shirt. “My days of being a sewer rat are long gone, my dear.”

Tav winces. She's not entirely yet convinced. “Are you sure?”

Slowly, Astarion returns his attention to her. “Yes,” he growls low in this throat, “I am sure.” He tilts his head to the side as he lifts his brow. “Satisfied?”

Briefly she narrows her eyes, studying his face. Something about this… she's seen it before. He's pulled his face into an all-too-perfect expression. Not a muscle out of place.

“Yes, thank you,” she answers. Tav watches his liar’s mask slide off, replaced by a smug expression. He’s truly convinced he has her fooled.

How could she have ever loved such a horrid creature?

“Excellent,” Astarion hums as he clasps his hands. “Shall we return to more pressing matters?” His hands raise to caress the soft edges of her hips. He drops his face to her forehead, planting a soft, lingering kiss. Gently he rocks them together again.

He's turning this into his playground. His bargaining chip.

Sex. Lies. Manipulation.

He falls back on them every time. Seals every deal with the proposition of ‘a little death;’ wielding his body like a finely sharpened tool. In her case, if she doesn't play her cards carefully, Tav could very well be staring face to face with actual death.

“Of course,” she sings to him. “I wouldn't be truthful if I said I hadn't been thinking of this.” She smiles softly to him, in just the way she knows he likes – a smile that reaches her eyes. It's her turn to start dealing her hand.

And just as expected, Astarion folds.

Hands reach behind her knees, Astarion lifting her up and onto the top of the desk. Their kiss is hurried as he slots himself between her splayed thighs, his tongue entwining itself around hers. Astarion's hands travel up again, one landing on her waist while the other palms at a clothed breast. Tav arches her back, pushing her chest into his touch. She sighs as he continues massaging the tender mound, mewling into his mouth as he pulls teasingly at her nipple. Breaking the kiss, she rests her forehead against the bridge of his nose. Her chest heaves as she tries to regain her breath.

Astarion releases her breast and slides his hand up to push the strap of her dress off her shoulder. “Lay down,” he commands with a whisper. Tav hesitates at first, but then moves slowly. She gently lays back onto the surface of the desk; the wood is cold against her exposed skin, sending a chill through her. Astarion leans forward, planting open-mouthed kisses to her neck and the newly exposed area of her shoulder. He travels down, suckling softly at the swell of her breast. She writhes beneath his touch as his hair tickles her chest.

“Ai armiel telere maenen hir,” says Astarion, kissing down the expanse of her abdomen. Tav grasps at silver locks, threading her fingers through Astarion’s hair as he begins hiking up her dress.

“You’ve said that to me before,” she pants heavily while stealing a look between her legs. An involuntary twitch ripples through her as he kisses the inside of her thigh. Tav feels him smirk into her skin.

“And still you’ve yet to seek out its meaning,” comes his prompt response. Astarion hooks his fingers into the hem of her undergarments, Tav lifting her hips enough for him to slide the fabric down her legs. They hang off one ankle as he resumes lavishing attention to her.

She arches off the desk as he kisses her mound, dipping his head momentarily to swipe his tongue teasingly up her slit. “W-uh, what d-does it mean?” she questions in a moan.

Astarion hums as he kneels before her spread legs. “You'll just have to find out for yourself,” he teases. Holding her legs open, he runs the flat of his tongue up her center, stopping to lavish her sensitive bud. He wraps his lips around her clit, suckling gently as he brings a hand to her entrance.

“What are you-” Tav exclaims, clearly panicked. Two of his fingers prod over her entrance, Astarion lightly teasing the tips in and out. Their eyes connect and he finally breaches forward, his eyes now rolling back into his skull as he continues lapping at her cunt. He curls his fingers, jerking his hand back and forth to pass over the intimate spot within. Tav’s vision begins to fill with searing white heat, her body writhing under him. He's bringing her closer and closer to release, and fast. More quickly than ever before.

“Gods, you taste even better than I remember,” he moans softly, adding fuel to the ever-mounting fire within her belly. Astarion kisses her opposite thigh, continuing the assault with his fingers. “Thiramen,” he says softly, sensing her proximity to the precipice.

The fucking Elvish. He surely hasn't forgotten the effect it has on her.

“D-don’t… not fair…” Tav whines, looking down between her legs as she runs her hands through Astarion's hair. Her thighs quake, the coil in her lower belly winding tighter and tighter as it threatens to snap.

Astarion meets her gaze, tongue once again passing over her swollen clit. “Thiramen eath’she,” he says. “Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen...”

Astarion curls his finger with just the right amount of finesse and suddenly Tav’s body ceases. She cries out, loud and wanton, her release spilling into the palm of his hand. Astarion smirks and continues passing his fingers over her spot, coaxing her through the intensity of her pleasure. Tav pulls her knees together and finally rolls away from his touch, too overstimulated to take any more. Her chest heaves as aftershocks of her release rock through her.

The vampire smiles as he stands up, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He begins undoing the buttons of his dress shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. Opening her legs again, he leans over her. Tav’s face is flushed red, her eyes still closed as her mouth hangs open. He makes a quick mental note of her current state to call upon for later use. “So beautiful,” Astarion comments, snaking a hand down to the button of his trousers. With the deftness expected of a skilled rogue, he pops open the button and loosens the fastener.

Tav finally comes to, opening her eyes to meet his gaze. “Astarion…” she breathes, raking her nails over his bare chest. Looking between their bodies, she follows his hand as he reaches within the waistband of his underclothes, pulling them down his thighs. His cock springs free and Tav gasps. Pre-fluid gathers at the tip of him and her eyes flutter upward to meet his again, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.

“I'll stop, if you want,” Astarion whispers through kiss-swollen lips. Guiding his length to rest against her sex, he groans softly, resting his head against her forehead. Involuntarily twitches of his hips have his shaft sliding deliciously through her arousal. Both pull in a sharp breath when the head of his cock catches at her entrance, Tav’s body arching off the desk at the sensation.

Shaky hands rise to hold either side of his face, and Tav notices for the first time that evening how warm it is. A soft blush sits high on his face, across the tops of his cheeks. Astarion turns his head into her palm, planting gentle kisses. Any reservations begin to melt away at the gesture. “No,” she breathes, “it's fine. I want this.” Tav runs her thumb back and forth over his cheek. “Even if only for a little while.”

He nods, completely silent, then guides himself along her core. Her hands tangle within moonlit locks as he breeches her entrance. Her sudden pleasured moan is swallowed in a kiss, Astarion groaning out is own into her mouth as his length slips deeper, deeper, until he hits her end. Tav tastes the remnants of her release on his tongue; a bitter sweetness that tickles the back of her throat. An involuntary clenching of her walls around his cock as his tip kisses the end of her tunnel has Astarion moaning again, breaking their kiss. He buries his head within the crook of her neck, resting there for a brief moment as he bottoms out.

They lay still, Tav pressing a heated cheek to the side of his face. Inhaling deeply, she crosses her legs over the small of his back and pulls him impossibly closer. Astarion adjusts the angle of his hips and she gasps as the head of his cock pushes against her cervix again, slightly arching into his embrace. Gently he begins to rock his hips – short, teasing thrusts to test her readiness. He lavishes attention to her neck with languid kisses, suckling at the delicate skin.

This is… passionate. Intimate, Tav realizes. The words he cannot say aloud, that he's too afraid to say aloud, he'll express through this.

This is her Astarion. The man she fell in love with over a year ago. Here, like this, is him. Tav turns her face to plant reassuring kisses against his temple. “You can move, Astarion,” she tells him.

He doesn't lift his face, but she feels how he breathes against her skin. A hand comes up to thread within her hair, the other landing on her hip. He’s silent as he begins to move – pulling out before slowly plunging back in. They stay like this for a bit, Astarion rocking his hips into her core with added fevor. He glides smoothly as her arousal grows, Tav falling easily into their shared rhythm.

“Tav?”

She opens her eyes, unaware of having closed them. “Mmm?” she groans softly, mouth falling open in a silent gasp as he adjusts his angle.

“Do you trust me?”

It takes a moment, but she’s sure she hears a sort of sternness in his voice. Tav peels her head back to meet his eyes. They're wild – dark crimson pools that threaten to swallow her whole. Astarion breathes heavily through his nose, eyes cast down as he awaits an answer.

She opens her mouth to speak but the words catch in her throat. With a wandering eye she finds the ring laying next to her on the corner of the desk. Light gleams on the gold band, reflecting off the glass of encasement.

He kept the ring, she argues to herself. He kept his half of the rings.

Were he so terrible, would he have done that?

“I do,” Tav answers nervously, blinking rapidly.

“May I ask a favor?”

Astarion stills his movements. He holds himself up by his elbows, but not before guiding Tav to lay flat on the surface of the desk. She nods her head slowly as she looks up to him, inviting him to continue.

In an instant, her stomach twists.

He smiles.

“It's been so long since I've supped of you, darling,” Astarion says, voice smooth as velvet. “Would you be ever so kind to grant me another taste?”

A chill runs up her spine. The room is cold, suddenly so very cold. She's ripped violently from the benevolent illusion of the moment, finding herself face to face with the very creature of tales long past.

The innocent maidens.

They always come for the innocent maidens.

She was nowhere near innocent – not for many years. But a maiden? Yes, of this she was sure.

She never did tell Astarion, but he was her first as much as she was his. Her mind may have still been fractured, but somehow she had certainty of that one fact. The moment he breached her maidenhead was the beginning of everything. Bit by bit he carved out pieces of her. Took them, stole them for himself. More and more she gave, all in an effort to appease his ever-growing lust for power and control.

Astarion is, and was, a rolling thunderstorm – lightning fit to strike for no reason other than he can.

And now he's asking, again, for more.

An overwhelming urge to cry is building within her, but she won't. She chose this. To be here, with him. Like this. The consequences of her actions playing out in real time.

Her stomach twists again and she winces in pain. She understands his craving for blood well. The pregnancy has been kicking up old feelings; she believed them to be settled after the rejection of her Father. Can she really deny him his hunger?

Tav lifts her face to meet his gaze. Astarion is looking down at her with a blank expression. He silently awaits her answer.

“...D-do not turn me, Astarion,” comes her shaky response.

A deep rumble travels up his chest as he twists his face into a foreboding smile. “Of course not, my love,” he purrs, like a cat that finally got the cream. His hand twists within Tav’s hair, guiding her head upward to expose the long column of her throat. His eyes find her scars again and he sucks in a sharp breath, involuntarily jerking his hips into her core. Astarion’s arousal has flagged, though the promise of her blood has him twitching back to life.

Tav groans as she feels him swell within her, hooking her legs back around the small of his waist. Tears threaten at the corners of her eyes as she feels his gaze upon her. “Be gentle, please,” she pleads. Trembling hands rise to hold his shoulders as he moves into position, his mouth hovering above her neck.

Astarion peppers the underside of her jaw with kisses as he trails down her neck. “I would never dream of being anything but,” he speaks into her skin. He swipes his tongue over her mark, his mark, enclosing his mouth over the spot and suckling lightly. “You'll barely feel a thing.”

She could stop this. She should stop this. But instead, she lies in wait, bracing herself for the icy sting of his fangs piercing her flesh. Tav feels the points of his teeth press into her neck; she screws her eyes shut as they sink in, hands flying to the top of his head. She groans, gripping handfuls of silver hair.

He's right – the pain is only momentary, replaced by a familiar, comforting warmth. Astarion sucks in earnest, mouthfuls of her blood rushing down his throat. With his cock fully replenished, Astarion resumes a steady rhythm, thrusting in time with each pull of blood into his mouth. He groans against her skin.

He desires this, he desires me, Tav reassures herself. The edges of her vision are beginning to darken; a telltale sign that she's reaching her limit. “Astarion,” she says meekly, trying to alert him of her condition.

Yet, he continues to drink.

She pants against his forehead as she tries desperately to break free of his hold. Her strength is quickly fading, more of her vision fading with each pull of her blood into his mouth. Still his thrusts continue; a numbness starts to spread from her core throughout her limbs.

“Astarion…” Tav calls again, voice barely above a whisper.

The ceiling is the last thing she sees before she closes her eyes. Even behind her closed lids the room spins. One hand slips from the top of Astarion's head and onto the table, followed shortly by the other.

As she slips closer and closer into unconsciousness, Tav makes peace with the fact that she chose this. She knew this was a possibility. She knew he desired this, and she gave it to him. Willing.

He outplayed her.

A single thought races across her mind before she fades, of the artwork in the foyer.

The vampire bites the woman he desires.

Finally, Tav succumbs to the dark.

Astarion continues to drink.

----------------------------------

A/N: PHEW. Well. The art I referenced above I believe is a scene from a manga called "Blood Sucker," but I couldn't find an actual panel depicting the image above, even with reverse image searching. If anyone can find the actual reference, please feel free to inform me and I'll adjust the link. Translations for the Elvish are as followed: Ai armiel telere maenen hir - "You hold my heart forever" Thiramen - "I love you/my love" when referring to soulmates Thiramen eath’she - "I love you forever," again, in the context of soulmates Let shan nesh tel’quiet, thiramen - "Let go for me, my love," Sources are here & here

Hope you had fun reading!!

#astarion #ascended astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfiction #astarion smut #astarion angst #astarion fanfic #astarion x tav #astarion x named tav #astarion ancunin #bg3 #my writing #astarion x durge #astarion x female tav #astarion x female dark urge #sotlc

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harmonysanreads · 3 months

Note

Hi Harmony! I just noticed that your requests are open and I decided to drop by with a small request I thought about for weeks.

I was thinking about Arlecchino for a while, and it made me ponder of the concept of Arlecchino with a darling on a reincarnation AU. Maybe Arlecchino has met her darling at such an inconvenient time, and every time that it has happened, only she remembers their past lives.

It probably goes to the point that Arlecchino starts devising ways to be able to keep her darling safe, because each time they would meet, her darling gets into an accident... And it would seem that each time she tried, then it would simply fail. And it would push to a point where she resorts to one of the more not so morally good methods.

I don't know if this counts as a req. or a brainrot, but I offer you this idea because I think it could be interesting to think about sometimes. You're free to deny it btw if its typical, hard, or overall you can't write it <3 I completely understand if that's the case.

(p.s.: this is the one running @yxstxrdrxxm BAHAHAHAHAHA I'm sorry if I haven't replied to your message during OLC, I dont know how to talk to you w/o sounding really awkward </3 also!! hydration check! Anyways thats all, have fun with the idea + I hope you have a great day Harmony :D)

Pantomime Of The Night

yandere!arlecchino x reader

cw(s) : yandere, vampire!arlecchino, mentions of blood, murder, slight gore, non-consensual touching, unbalanced power dynamics

wc : 2.1k

a/n: omg hiii! would you believe me if I said I was just thinking about you before getting this ask? also please don't worry about my message! i had a hunch that you might be in a situation of sorts. thank you so so much for requesting arlecchino because i've been itching to write for her for a long time! i decided to go with vampire!arlecchino for this because i thought it'd suit the reincarnation theme well. i hope you enjoy it<3

lovely illustration based on this fic by a lovely person <3 (spoiler alert!)

At the deepest hours of the night, even the innocent crackles of hearthfire sound as clamorous as gun-shots.

You're dazed by the flame's continuous dance until the aroma of freshly brewed tea reaches your senses and the servants have left. A sharp clank from Arlecchino's glass and the weight of her gaze prompt you to meet her eyes. The light from the fireplace casts shadows on the other half of her fair face, she seemed to have foregone her usual taught posture in favor of a relaxed one. One of her hands supports her cheek while the other holds the wine glass, the beverage within sloshes as the claw-like accessories on her fingers curl around the object.

Your side of the table is far more decorated, desserts that you've never even seen in your impoverished mortal life and that tea you've grown fond of over the course of your stay in her mansion sit appetizingly. All beckon you to feast, all seek to fan the flames of voracity and you offer but a thoughtless stare in return.

The master of the house seems to have noticed your lack of appetite as she finally breaks the stretched out silence, “These are all confectioneries of the highest quality from the town and as I recall, all of your favorites. But you give them no more than a blank stare... you've also not taken a sip from the tea. May I inquire why?”

The raspy tone of her observation has your arms covered in gooseflesh, though, you note she does not sound as confused as her words suggest. You can feel her onyx eyes gloss over every part of your person, inspecting and dissecting each and every visible clue. You swallow dryly, “It’s just that it's way too late in the night,”

“Yet you look as ready as ever to head out. Tell me, have you been anticipating my return, dearest?”

Arlecchino stares pointedly at your attire, likely referring to the traveling clothes you have on instead of the silk nightwear that she had gifted. Your shoulders tense unconsciously, there's something about the way she speaks at this instance that has your heartbeat crescendoing. The silver haired woman gives you a few more beats of anxiety, her talons scrape against the dainty glass.

“I’ve been informed that you have not eaten anything since yesterday.”

The words escape her painted lips easily, but they don't fail to send a jolt through your system. Throughout your stay, she'd never spoken to you like this, like you were one of her children who did not know better and decided to cross a line. That realization renders you further puzzled, you did nothing wrong to begin with, but her tone made you feel as though you were on the verge of doing so. You clear your parched throat and gather yourself to meet her eyes. This time, you do not allow yourself to wilt at the force of her burning stare.

“Arlecchino, I have something to tell you.”

The addressed woman straightens up at your sudden serious tone, her hand abandons the wine glass on the table and you inhale involuntarily at the scratches that now decorate the object, “I’m all ears, dearest.”

Your brows crease, as usual, Arlecchino is courteous, too courteous for someone who makes it obvious she's informed of something that she wasn't supposed to know. She's been like this ever since you and your travel-partner stepped foot in her ambiguous estate. Initially, you were touched by the hospitality she and her adopted children had shown you. Your greed lulled any arising suspicions, you neither questioned why she'd been so generous to a commoner with nothing more than fifty mora to their name nor did you bother to think about how she was affording all those gifts. You naïvely wished to believe in her kindness and that nothing was wrong about this house. But of course, self-woven deceptions last so long.

“Before you mistake me for being ungrateful, I did plan to inform you before leaving. Me and my friend are extremely thankful for the care your house has shown us, but we cannot stay in one place forever.”

“Why not?” you halt at her abrupt question but she follows up before you could even part your lips, “Have we lacked in any area to provide you with the adequate comfort? Have any of my children said something? If it's the latter, I'll apologize in their stead, they can be quite playful at times, I'm sure you understand.”

You stare dumbfounded at the sudden turn this conversation has taken, she wasn't supposed to behave like this. Why is she searching for a reason to make you stay when she should've been happy that a burden was about to be lifted off of her shoulders? Are all nobles this pushy?

“I—” you cut yourself off as the silver-haired woman leans in without warning, her shadow envelopes the delicacies laid out on the small table.

“Or… have you seen something?” she drawled.

You cannot hold back a flinch this time. A curse echoes in your mind at your stupidity, this was no ‘conversation’ to begin with ; this was yet another trap and you'd willingly played right into the palm of Arlecchino's hand. If there's one thing you've learned about this mysterious noblewoman, it is that she enjoys the process of dragging answers out of everyone. From the very beginning, she was aware of your scheme but, she chose to wear that mask of courtesy one more time and lured you out in the open, unguarded. If only your friend arrived to fetch you from your room at the right time, you wouldn't be in this messy situation.

Your eyes dart from her unblinking expression to the sharp accessories that adorn her gloved fingers and something about them forces you to reply quickly.

“No! I mean, you know that I'm a traveler, do you not? It's already been six months since we came to your estate, me and my friend were starting to.. crave that adventurous thrill—yes! We were starting to miss being on the road and decided to depart in the early morning.”

Once upon a time, your late mother had told you that some people in this world are like spiders. They're always at the centerpiece of their lair, leaving intricate translucent webs for unassuming prey to get tangled upon. Although the croaked warnings of your bedridden mother did not make much sense to the younger you, you understood now exactly what she meant.

“Incorrect. You were planning to escape with that friend of yours, weren't you?”

The hearthfire burns bright, shrouding Arlecchino's expression in shadows. The chilling octave of her voice defeats the warmth of the fireplace and has every muscle in your body stiffened. Escape? Her word choice never ceased to baffle you throughout this faux tea-party. She speaks as though you were her prisoner instead of a guest. She tilts her head and has the audacity to look betrayed as though you were a possession she held dear, and not a random human she decided to take pity upon.

Arlecchino runs a hand through her silvery hair with a sigh that actually indicates ennui and you bite back a scowl, “Honestly, I do not understand why you even befriended that thing. He's an obnoxious blabbermouth with a nose bigger than his brain. And he's loud, too. You've always preferred to mingle with level headed people with a sufficient intellectual capacity in the past and here you are, glaring at me as though—”

“Don’t speak like you know me!”

You pant after the force of that outburst, your voice ricochets across the walls of her room and further beyond. You open your mouth to continue but stop when you notice a strange flicker in the silver-haired woman's eyes. It's gone in a blink and is replaced with irritation just as quickly however.

“Oh, but I do know you. I know you better than you know yourself, in fact. I know that there are exactly 11 moles throughout your body, I know all your preferences and fears. Don't believe me? Did you really never stop to question how I managed to give you things that catered to your tastes? How I knew what you desired even before you did? Or were you so mesmerized by the words of that friend of yours to pay minimum attention?”

If the tone of a person's voice could kill, you'd be rotting in a ditch by now. You would've never believed someone could sound this malicious while not even raising their voice. You want nothing more than to shrink away but the adrenaline accumulated through your anger pushes you to keep digging your grave.

“And so what if that's exactly how it is? You have no right to have a say in who I choose to be ‘mesmerized’ by!”

A ‘ha!’ laden with disbelief escapes Arlecchino's lips. Fine silvery strands bounce at the mocking tilt of her head, “So what will you do now? Walk out of the gates with that waste of space like nothing happened?”

“Oh, you bet I will!” you fume, rising from the chair and turning on your heels. You barely take one step away from the table until the full weight of Arlecchino's malice crashes down on you and you remember something important.

“Arlecchino, where is my friend?”

The silver haired woman leisurely raises her wine glass at your stilted words, “In my glass.”

You swivel towards her, blinking several times as if to confirm you didn't mishear.

“Well, here and… probably in the stomachs of my pet vultures, excluding the carcass, that is. I'll admit, the taste is subpar compared to the trouble I went through. That thing kept on screaming until one of the vultures tore its heart out. Ugh, my ears are still ringing.”

Your wide eyes tremble towards the glass in her hand, the deep red liquid within sloshes to the direction of Arlecchino's hand ; paired with her words, your friend’s destiny becomes a no-brainer. All your wits abandon you in that instance and in a moment of sheer panic, you take a step back. Arlecchino promptly interferes with your plans, the door and windows close with no little sound and the table and your chair disappear without a trace—all in the snap of her fingers.

“What are you?”

You would've screamed if you didn't forget how to use your lungs. But then again, you doubt anyone would come to save you from her clutches even if you did. Your eyes connect to her onyx ones and in that moment, she appeared far less human than she'd been this whole encounter. Her pupils flash as two red xs and you feel an invisible pull tugging you to her side. The temptation dominates any coherent thoughts until you find yourself an arms length away from her seated self. Her claws dig into the flesh of your arm and yank you to her lap.

Free from the haze of that strange sensation, the first thing that permeates your senses is how cold Arlecchino's proximity is. Your palm meets her chest in a feeble attempt to push her away but all it does is stun you when you notice the absence of a heartbeat. You feel the sting of something sharp on your chin and waist, your eyes glance back and forth between the sources—dread pools in your stomach. Because of your closeness and the light from the fireplace, you're able to see that the sharp objects you'd mistaken for accessories are actually her nails and the gloves, her real skin.

Perhaps your trembling was so pitiful that Arlecchino could not help but soften her gaze, “Do you truly not recall?”

You look up at her, thoroughly perplexed. There's that previous glint in her eyes again but you've already accepted that understanding this woman was beyond you. One moment she accuses you as though you've been unfaithful, then she vividly describes how she murdered an innocent man and the next she looks almost… hurt?

“Recall what?”

The silver-haired woman’s red lips part and you gulp as unnaturally sharp fangs sneer at you. Albeit, she does not answer you and you wonder if you should get accustomed to playing mental gymnastics with her just to get a simple answer. Her talons let go of your waist and drag their up to your collarbone, creating a deliberate and irrepairable tear on your clothes. Her nails drum against your skin for three seconds before they latch onto your throat.

“Although, that'll no longer be an issue.”

She forces you to make eye-contact with a sharp tug on your chin, the color drains from your face as her cool breath washes against your skin. You open your mouth to say something, anything, but are quickly shushed as you feel her fangs sink into your lower lip.

“Because, we'll have ample time to get acquainted with each other starting from today.”

#requests: batch two #answered #yandere #yandere arlecchino #yandere arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino x you #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin #arlecchino #the knave #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin imagines #navxry

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ginnsbaker · 1 year

Text

In Losing Grip On Sinking Ships (2/?)

Chapter summary: You face your own struggles after the divorce

Chapter word count: 4k+

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader, Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Brief smut, Fingering (r giving), Oral sex (r giving), only mentions of Wanda in this chapter, sorry

Author’s Note: Things will pickup considerably after this.

AO3 | Masterlist

Next Chapter: Three

----

Two

“Thank you for giving me the best years of my life. Goodbye, Wanda.”

You couldn’t escape that room fast enough. The room that kept the person you love most in the world–was your world. Natasha approaches you carefully after handing the check to your lawyer. Her brows are snapped together in what seems like a permanent frown whenever you’re concerned, and it puts you off more than usual.

“You alright?” she faintly asks, already knowing the answer. The part of you that refuses to die–the part that endlessly cares for Wanda and wants to protect her at all cost–inexplicably wants to send Natasha to that room so she could offer her comfort to your ex-wife instead. Wanda’s been left by you. She is alone for the first time in her adult life, without the same support you’re getting from Natasha. You give thought to the fact that you were Wanda’s best friend first, before you were her lover and eventually her wife. And it dawns on you that, maybe, Wanda's losses outweigh yours. It’s a sick form of victory for some, yet you certainly don’t feel like you’ve won anything.

“Honestly?” You groan and clutch your stomach, frantically scanning the hallway. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Natasha calls on a staff member to direct you to the nearest restroom.

You nearly miss the toilet in the first empty cubicle you find. Feeling the cold, hard tiles on your knees, you think it couldn’t get any worse than this. You’ve finally hit rock bottom, and you’re still alive–

–If the burn in your throat and the bitter taste of bile in your mouth constitutes being alive.

Slumped against the porcelain seat of the bowl, hardly a good place to deliberate one’s life choices, you try to figure out what’s next.

Following the divorce, you don’t last a month at your new job. Your newfound love of whisky before bedtime may have contributed to it when you only managed to be on time for work twice: your first day and your last.

In the beginning, not being able to see Wanda in the flesh helped. Being back in your beloved city and taking refuge in the small confines of Natasha’s spare room initially distracted you enough to carry on as normally as you would. That lasted a full twenty-four hours before you started seeing her ghost everywhere–on the subway platform while waiting for the train to arrive, on the street lining up for a morning bagel, and even in your bed, whereas she no longer has any business being in.

You briefly considered moving to a new state, but financially, it wasn’t the best option. With Wanda out of sight, there’s just yourself to deal with. And dealing with yourself gives you a strong urge to flee; to a place or time that would take away the remnants of yourself that stubbornly belong to Wanda.

“You can stay here as long as you like.” Natasha says when she catches you mindlessly scrolling through real estate listings in the neighborhood.

“You’ve helped enough, Nat. I can’t keep being your charity case.” you mutter, continuing with your search.

She raises her hand to aim for your temple, but thinks better of it and pulls it back. “You’re lucky I’m done with violence or you would’ve had your ass handed to you for saying that.”

You snicker. “I’m your golden ticket to heaven for being so good to me. Even my mom would’ve kicked me out by now.”

“You want to pay me back? Stay. Don’t argue anymore.”

“But, Nat–”

“I said drop it.”

Your mouth snaps shut at the forceful dismissal. Natasha’s eyes dart everywhere to avoid yours. You’ve been so caught up in your problems, you missed the obvious signs that maybe she needs you as much as you needed someone when your life was falling apart (and still is).

“Babe, are you okay?” you ask, keeping your tone casual.

“Babe,” Natasha chuckles at the nickname you haven’t used on her for almost a decade. “God, it sounds so weird, now that I’ve heard you call Wanda that countless times.”

You scrunch your nose, recalling also the times you’ve screamed that endearment during sex with your ex-wife. “Fuck, you’re right. I kind of want to barf all over this couch.”

“Don’t you dare.” You’re both laughing now and it feels really, really good.

“So,” you say once you’ve both recovered. “Is there something you’d like to share with me?”

Natasha pauses to think, and it’s more than enough to let you know she doesn’t want to talk about her own problems and feelings.

“I’m good. Now, where are we on: not abandoning your best friend after exploiting her?” she says, effortlessly putting you back in the spotlight.

Whatever it is she’s going through, you want to be there for her.

“Fine,” You already owed Natasha your sanity; you didn’t want to owe her money too. “But I want to pay rent.”

Natasha grins in satisfaction. “Deal.”

It was either you get drunk on alcohol, or you get drunk on memories of Wanda. Apparently, it only takes a while before they eventually mix up to mess with your head tenfold. One second you’re struggling to keep your eyes open to take just one more shot before you call it a night, and the next your fingers are inching towards the waistband of your shorts, your mind wandering to moments you’ve woken up in the middle of the night mid-orgasm, your wife’s head buried in between your thighs.

Nothing sobers you up more than the near mistake of touching yourself to thoughts of your ex-wife. You’re beyond disgusted that you still fantasize about a woman who’s no longer yours.

A woman who basically destroyed your ability to trust.

The bed of Natasha’s spare room is a double, and you’re still not accustomed to having all the space to yourself. After downing what’s left of the bottle of whisky, you place all the pillows on the unoccupied spot to your left and lay down on your side, waiting for sleep to take you.

The days that follow are a mere repetition of the day you officially quit your job. They mostly adopt a template that consists of three things: Netflix, pizza and housekeeping.

(In truth, it’s four things, but you keep the liquor in your room, where all the drinking takes place without your best friend’s knowledge.)

Apart from being a lifestyle that’s easy to maintain, it is also a far cry from your old life. You want to remove as much detail in your life that reminds you of Wanda, and this is what you’re left with. Your mother(and only living parent) who has retired in Montauk, is not pleased to discover that you’re reliving your college era–jobless and sharing a flat with Natasha. But at least she had more to say about your current situation than when you told her about your failed marriage over the phone.

“I did warn you about that girl.” your mother remarked frankly during that call, and then proceeded to flatly ask if you were okay, like she was reading a script on how to react when you find out your daughter is getting a divorce. In retrospect, it was the best reaction you could ever hope for considering her dislike of Wanda–a feeling she’s never attempted to hide at every opportunity. Wanda, to her credit, only ever respected and loved her through the side-eyes and snarky comments, and this capability of hers to do so surprised you given her relationship with her own mother. The way she loved your mother certainly felt like an extension of her love for you.

Right after letting your mother know you’re out of work, she wired you a ridiculous amount of money for your “allowance”. You tried giving it back, but she refused and alluded that you should take some time to enjoy yourself without the pressure of getting another nine-to-five desk job. You graciously relented, knowing it was her way of looking out for you and being sorry for what happened with Wanda.

And that is basically how you are able to keep up being a kermit in Natasha’s apartment. If it’s up to you, you wouldn’t change a thing in your routine, but Natasha has other ideas after finding her study tidy and uncluttered–which she often leaves in a state of anarchy.

“Here,” she says, handing you a purple key fob. “Go to the gym, and use up all your energy on lifting weights instead of ruining my order of things around here and wallowing in self-pity.”

You pause the television and put down the slice of pizza you’ve been holding to receive the key with greasy fingers.

“If I go, will you promise to leave me alone for the rest of the week?” you ask around a mouthful of cheese and pepperoni.

“Do it, and then I’ll think about it.”

You shrug and return to finishing a whole box of pizza by yourself and your eleventh re-run of Modern Family.

“One more thing,” Natasha says, tossing you a watch. You click pause again and look at the offending item on your lap. “Wear that so I’ll know if you actually do the workout.”

You groan and Natasha smiles in triumph at your agony. You don’t know what her deal is, but you’re actually thankful someone’s making sure you don’t stuff yourself to death with pizza.

The gym looks more like a hotel lobby than a place where people grunt and sweat and ogle their reflection.

By the counter near the elevators, a receptionist is wearing an ensemble that belongs more to a fashion magazine company. You had expectations that it would be a luxurious place due to it being housed on the penthouse floor of Manhattan’s newest skyscraper. It’s ridiculously aboveboard, however, and you’re starting to feel uneasy and out-of-place.

“Welcome back, Ms. Romanoff.” The receptionist greets you, flashing her unnaturally white and straight teeth. You respond with a timid nod before heading straight to the lockers in case she asks for ID.

After changing into a black sports bra and biker shorts, you walk straight to the lifting section.

There are only two other clients in that room, both of them male, and they’re not exactly subtle as they let their gaze sweep over you from head to toe.

Oblivious to prying eyes, you attempt to deadlift just a tad more than half your weight, but think better of it when your forearms feel like they would snap out of your elbows if you try to raise the bar a few more inches off the ground. Exhaling sharply, you drop the weights and it causes a resounding bang as it hits the floor, turning a couple of heads in your direction as a result. You hear snickering behind you, and sweat forms along your hairline as you duck your head in embarrassment.

Your eyes flit to the rows of treadmill to your right. That’s something you definitely can’t screw up. Hopping on one that’s situated in the corner, you are presented with a spectacular aerial view of the city.

The last time you’ve been to the gym was the day you learned that Wanda was fucking one of her students. While you haven’t lost weight (quite frankly, you’ve managed the opposite), you’ve lost all the muscles you’ve developed in a measly gym back in Westview. Your habit of googling everything led you to actually read a few dozen articles on how to heal a broken heart, and while their advice varied from developing a healthy habit to copious amounts of rebound sex, they all suggested daily exercise or taking up a new sport. Running was the only sport you fell in love with in the suburbs, but you found it hard to motivate yourself once you moved back to the city.

You and Wanda spent a lot of time in Central Park the first few months you began dating, and you knew how much she enjoyed taking random walks there. No matter its vastness and the odds of randomly seeing her during a stroll being less than ten percent, you can’t rely on your subconscious not to bring you to some of the areas that might result in an encounter.

Not that you haven’t thought about the possibility, on the contrary, you’ve thought about running into Wanda a lot.

You’ve thought about how you’ll feel and what you’d do. If you see her, should you say hello like two old friends meeting after a long estrangement? Should you apologize for not answering her texts and returning her calls? Would she apologize for it again? Are your interactions from now on, going to be awkward exchanges of hellos and sorries?

Will words be exchanged at all? Or will you be strangers passing each other on the sidewalks, like parallel lines that would walk the same paths but never intersect each other again?

How do you cope with knowing someone from the inside-out, only to cut them out completely out of your life?

“Excuse me?” you hear a female voice next to you, cutting your line of thought.

Speeding on the treadmill at eight miles per hour, you’re lucky to hit the stop button before you could trip all over your feet. Once you’re sure you won’t lose your balance, you steadily turn around to address the owner of the voice–

The girl is stunning, and–as cliché as it sounds–has the appearance of a Victoria’s Secret model. Her auburn hair is styled in an intricate braid and she smells too good for someone who’s just finished their workout.

“Can I help you?” you ask, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your own appearance and scent.

It doesn’t help your diffidence when she deliberately takes a step closer.

She must’ve sensed her effect on you, because she makes the bold move to place a delicate hand on your damp arm, then says, “I’m about to do some post-workout stretch, and I know this is gonna sound weird but I need your help.”

You swallow dryly. “My help… stretching?”

“I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. It’s just, I don’t want to ask a man to do this for me.”

You blink at her. Otherwise, you barely move a muscle in your face.

At your lack of verbal response, she gives you an apologetic smile and starts walking away. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, thank you for your time.”

You catch a whiff of her perfume, and suddenly your tongue finally catches up with your brain.

“Wait!”

Like a trained ballerina, she swivels gracefully on her heel, and you swear she looks even younger from this distance.

“I can help. Just tell me what to do.”

You’ve never done this. You’ve never done anything remotely close to this.

Not before Wanda, and certainly not in a semi-public place where anyone could walk in and hear you.

(Although in this case, they’d be hearing her.)

Her name is Charlie (or was it Lottie?) and she’s riding you on a bench in the women’s dressing room. Her towel has pooled to her waist, barely covering her ass as it bounces on your lap at the motion of her hips lifting and forcefully coming back down to fuck herself on your fingers.

You’re so mesmerized at the sight of someone’s pleasure, and the fact that you’re the one causing it. By your standards, it hasn’t been too long. But the nights you’ve woken up to a throbbing sensation between your legs and not once seeking release, had you acting on impulse when Charlie/Lottie kissed you as soon as you stepped out of the shower.

“Fuck, it feels so good.” she moans against your ear. “More, please.”

You don’t bother to ask what she’s asking for specifically, as you insert a third finger into her pussy, and push in and out of her at a speed that has your wrist cramping in a matter of seconds. She doesn’t last much longer after that. As soon as she starts coming, she buries her head in the area where your neck meets your shoulder; her teeth biting rather harshly at the flesh there while her walls flutter around you.

She kisses you softly after she comes down from her high, and it almost makes you cry.

“Thank you.” she murmurs sheepishly, and you try not to think about the last person who thanked you for an orgasm.

“You haven’t cum yet. Do you want–”

“Can I taste you?” you whisper, blushing at your own request.

She nods eagerly at that, and you gently lay her down fully on the bench. You take her towel off completely from her waist and place it over her chest in case she starts to feel chilly. Securing your own towel around you, you lick a trail down her body. The thing about Charlie (you decided to just call her that) is she’s inconceivably hot. Half of your thoughts are fixated on that one particular fact, and the other half is still fumbling with what’s already happening. Charlie’s thighs close around your head, causing your cheeks to rub against the smoothness of them. Her supple skin feels as expensive as it looks, her stomach is taut and defined, unlike–

Nope.

You’re not supposed to compare. You’re not supposed to even think about her at this moment.

When you reach your destination, you place an open-mouthed kiss at the top of her cunt before flicking her clit with the tip of your tongue in short, quick strokes. At the same time, your right hand travels to your own wet heat, and you groan at her taste and the relief of finally attending to your own needs. Charlie impatiently removes the towel covering her torso to grab her own breasts and squeeze them.

Moving lower, to the place where she’s ostensibly gushing, you stick your tongue in a slow but deliberate movement. The action causes her to abandon one of her tits in order to cover the scream that escapes her mouth. You switch up tactics. Flattening your tongue against her clit, you alternate between massaging and giving it little licks, all the while you mimic the same measures to your own nub. You start moaning against her pussy, sending subtle vibrations that add to her building climax.

You meant to tease her to no end, until she impatiently whines, “Hurry, my boyfriend’s picking me up soon.”

“Yeah, my boyfriend is on the way to pick me up.” Wanda said after you asked her if she’ll be okay on her own. Natasha had been ringing your phone for the last fifteen minutes, and it wasn’t going to stop vibrating in your pocket unless you got to the subway.

She’s the prettiest girl you’ve ever met, but the universe apparently had other plans and was telling you you’re in over your head.

You tried to contain your disappointment. “It was nice meeting you, Wanda.”

“Likewise, Y/N.” Wanda beamed and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The faint glow of the golden hour hit the side of her face at the most perfect angle. Her bottom teeth weren’t perfect, but her smile was so carefree and so unrestrained, it lit up the empty hallway where the two of you were standing close together. A warm fuzziness seized your entire body, reaching the end of your toes and your fingertips.

It’s a mystery to you as well, but you genuinely hoped she was happy and properly loved.

With a grateful smile, you waved her goodbye.

However, just right before you turned a corner, you heard your name echoing in the hallway.

“Y/N?”

You turned around and met Wanda’s green eyes that pulled you like magnets. “Yes?”

“Do you, maybe, want to hang out sometime?”

You didn’t think you’d eventually find yourself at the other side of the equation. That someone would use you to cheat on their partner. Karma has a dark sense of humor, and you can’t do anything but chuckle in disbelief. Her revelation makes you freeze in all respects, and there’s no way you’re going to cum after knowing that you’re fucking someone else’s girlfriend.

“That was incredible,” Charlie murmurs in between pants. She reclines on her back, unabashedly naked like a renaissance painting. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again with you.”

You pick up her towel that has fallen on the floor, and carelessly toss it right at her face.

“I would.” is all you say, and start dressing yourself without another word.

You don’t remember much of the so-called walk of shame. One minute you’re eating a girl out, and the next you’re back in Natasha’s apartment, staring at the mirror and not recognizing the person staring back. You took another shower–a scalding one–when you got home, cleaning off the woman’s traces from your skin. What you couldn’t remove is the mark she left on your neck: a glaring purple bruise that will probably won’t go away for at least two days.

With a long sigh, you close your eyes at the detail that won’t leave you.

She had a boyfriend.

For a short moment you were in Vision’s shoes, even if you had no idea that she was using you for the very same thing that broke you.

“Y/N?”

You visibly jolt out of your stupor, and reach for the knob of the bathroom door to make sure it’s locked.

“I’ll be out in a minute.”

“No, it’s fine. Please don’t come out yet. I prefer saying this without you seeing me right now.” Natasha says, and you can tell she’s now standing just on the other side of the door.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, uhm…”

A pause. Two deep breaths drawn, and then–

“I’ve decided I’m going back.”

“Back…?”

“Back to work.”

“Natasha,” You say in quiet shock. “Does he know? You’ve talked to him about this?”

Natasha nods. “He said I can do whatever I want. We’re on a break, anyway.”

“Oh,” Your eyes drop to the floor, thinking of something else to say.

“You’re going to be okay on your own, right?” you hear Natasha whisper through the door.

You? She’s putting her life in constant danger once again, and she’s asking you. It just about makes you smile with boundless affection. You’ve been through countless conversations with Natasha, trying to talk her into a career that is not life-threatening at the very least. You used to think that Bruce coming into her life years ago would change her mind, but it seems her work is so etched to her identity that she could not just be without it.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me. When are you leaving?”

“The day after tomorrow.” she says.

You open the door this time. “Wow, they really need you that bad, huh?”

Natasha smirks. “Clint’s throwing me an impromptu send-off party tomorrow night. Will you come?”

“As long as you’ll pay for the drinks.”

“He’s got us covered,” Natasha says, and then her eyes zero in on the evidence of your earlier tryst. “Oh, and you might want to cover that up.”

You blush as your fingers automatically stroke the hickey on your neck.

“I–” you try to explain.

She doesn’t let you and only says, “Good for you. Sweet dreams, stranger.” with a knowing little wink, before retreating to her own room.

Good for you. Somehow that makes you feel infinitely worse.

You pad quietly towards your bed, and as you settle in it, you hear a vibration coming from inside the nightstand next to you.

It’s your old phone. The one you keep but no longer use. The one that Wanda’s been relentlessly calling and texting. It’s buzzing to notify you that its battery is at a critical level.

You still haven’t decided what you should do with it. When you were married to Wanda, you were naturally each other’s emergency contact, and so you’ve convinced yourself that maybe you should keep it for that reason alone.

Picking up the phone with the intention to plug it, you see one missed call from Wanda. Guilt, however irrational it may be, settles at the pit of your stomach as your mind returns to what happened in the gym. It mortifies you now to realize that you have touched Charlie the way you would touch Wanda when you made love to her.

Aside from the missed call, there’s a text message from Wanda that reads: Took Sparky to the vet today. He said there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe he just misses you.

Biting your lower lip, you think about responding.

‘I miss him too’, you begin to type. ‘I miss y–’

You quickly press the backspace button to delete it altogether. Deciding not to text back, you return the phone to its hiding place. The battery will eventually run out, and maybe then, you’ll be able to decide its fate.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #ifiss 2 #ilgoss #wanda maximoff #marvel #natasha romanoff #unbetad #My writing #my fic

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kookie-doughs · 7 months

Text

Daddy Cupid

Modern!Various One Piece Men X Reader

-When your father grows weary of your single life, he takes it upon himself to play matchmaker. With him knowing the entire city, he embarks on a mission to find you the perfect match.

Chapter 3: Cupid's Aim

The morning arrives, and you find yourself grumbling, knowing that your date is just around the corner. The thought of yet another attempt by your father to play matchmaker has you feeling less than enthusiastic about the day ahead.

As you check your phone, you find messages from various people. Shanks sends you a congratulations for your date, Smoker and Buggy both wish you good luck, and your dad sends you a reminder. You sigh and reluctantly get out of bed. Your date is in just three hours, so you decide to start getting ready, mentally preparing yourself for what lies ahead.

For your date, you decide to go with a cute and casual look that's both comfortable and stylish. You choose a knee-length, floral-print sundress with a cinched waist that flatters your figure. Pair it with a light denim jacket for a touch of warmth if needed.

To complete the look, slip on some white sneakers for comfort during your date. Keep your accessories minimal with a delicate necklace and a few bangle bracelets. Finish it off with a crossbody bag for practicality, and you're ready to go with a charming and effortless outfit.

After spending a bit more time on your makeup than you anticipated, you finally finish getting ready, and you're satisfied with the way you look. With your cute outfit and makeup in place, you're now good to go for your date, feeling confident and prepared for whatever the day may bring.

Feeling better about the day and your appearance, you step out of your apartment with confidence. However, your confidence is short-lived as you accidentally bump into someone in the hallway. You look up to see that it's Perona.

"Ah! Sorry, miss!" she apologize.

You waves off her apology with a smile. "It's fine, sweetie, but you really shouldn't run in the halls."

She explain hurriedly, "I need to get to Zoro, miss. Sorry, but my dad will kill me if I'm late!"

You nods understandingly, and you continue on your way, hoping to avoid any further delays on this already eventful day. You ran to get on the elevator.

You quickly press the hold button on the elevator as someone calls out to hold it. To your surprise, it's Mihawk who steps inside.

"Thanks for holding," he acknowledges.

You smile at him. "No problem."

"By the way, have you seen the kids anywhere? They ran off after taking my wallet."

You can't help but hold back a laugh as you remember the incident. "Ah, so that's why they were in such a hurry. I think they took the stairs," you inform him, sharing a knowing look about the mischievous kids.

You take a moment to check your phone, hoping to see if your date has sent you any messages. However, you roll your eyes in annoyance when you realize he hasn't.

Mihawk notices your formal attire and makes an observation, "You're dressed formally today. I'll assume it's another date arranged by your father?"

You respond with a sarcastic laugh, "Yeah, it's so tiring. But alas, he always wins." You motion at your dress, highlighting the fact that you're once again going along with your father's matchmaking schemes.

Mihawk offers a supportive smile and says, "Well, let's hope you dressed nicely for something worth your while this time."

As the elevator doors open, he steps out, and you follow suit. After exchanging your goodbyes, you continue on with your day, hoping that this date arranged by your father will at least be an interesting one.

You arrive at the coffee shop, and Law, who is manning the cashier, greets you with a smirk. He takes note of your attire and can't resist making a comment.

"Your date hasn't come in yet," he remarks teasingly.

You roll your eyes and reply, "Shut up."

Law leans in conspiratorially, "Is it my uncle? I saw him getting ready this morning."

You groan in exasperation, saying, "I will literally jump off a cliff."

Law chuckles and decides, "Well, I'm not taking your order until your date comes, so go and take your spot."

With a sigh, you follow Law's instructions and head to your designated spot, prepared to wait for your date's arrival.

As you wait for your date, you occupy yourself by scrolling through your phone. You take note of various posts, ranging from your friends' daily updates to adorable pictures of other people's kids. You even stumble upon a post from your ex-boyfriend, which brings back some memories and mixed feelings.

"How come he doesn't have to go through these stupid dates..."

Law calls you over after a few minutes, and you walk over to him. He points in the direction of a man seated at a table. You observe the man, noting his tall and slim yet muscular build, arched eyebrows, and a close-shaved goatee. His shoulder-length wavy black hair gives him a distinct appearance. He's dressed in a two-piece black suit with the sleeves casually rolled up, wearing black leather shoes, and a white tie and handkerchief tucked into the breast pocket.

You stare at the man, unsure whether he's your date or not. You slowly approach him and tap his shoulder.

As the man lifts his head and his eyes lock with yours, he stares at you intently. You start to feel a bit nervous under his gaze and let out a nervous laugh.

"Are you waiting for someone? Perhaps a date?" you ask, breaking the silence.

He shakes his head, face slowly turning red as he cleared his throat. "N-No, I am not. Sorry, I just..."

You chuckle, "I see. Well, sorry for bothering you. I thought you were my date with how you're dressed."

The man keeps his eyes fixed on you, seemingly mesmerized, and takes a deep breath before asking, "May I get your name?"

You chuckle softly at his admiration and reply, "Of course, it's-"

Your conversation with the man is interrupted when you hear your phone chime. You look at the notification.

Seeing it was a text from your date you rolled your eyes.

You shoot a "K" reply and grumbled. Looking down on your outfit and get up you frowned.

"Uhm..." The man got your attention. "I'm Rob Lucci."

"Y/N." You offer your hand and he takes it. "Sorry, I'm really upset right now..."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"My date ditched me." You raise your hand and Law understood.

Frustrated by the events, you decide to take a seat at Lucci's table. You vent your frustration by posting about how your date ditched you on social media, making sure to hide the post from your dad's friends to avoid any further meddling in your love life.

Previous | Masterlist

Hey guyssss!! This is the end of these parts you need to go to the masterlist and select which route you want to go to!

Obviously they're not all going to be written at once I'll write them one at a time and uploads will come every monday. I'm not gonna post chapter for marco and a chapter for that and for that guy every monday only one chapter the character varies with whoever I felt like writing </3 i hope you'll understand its to keep myself from dropping this story

I'll write whoever I want to write first I'm not going to follow the arrangement on the masterlist >< unless you request a character to come first

I hope youll enjoy this story thank you for your support!

-kookiedoughs

Taglist?

@nykie-love-anime @gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @angstylittleb1tch @valen-yamyam16 @melodyidk @anicega @littlegreekgirl1 @rebeccawinters

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i-try-to-write-stuff · 10 months

Note

Hiya mate again, this is the other user the requested for Tony, Stephen and Loki's fics. Well I do have other requests but let me ask this since I know you make Shelby fics you might make this aswell.

1# Dark!Cillian Murphy x Reader

Let me just say how it should start. Let's say that the Reader is an Actress that was casted for Oppenheimer (Or you can choose the movie/film). Cillian showed signs that he hates the reader but secretly loves her and because of the hate signs, the reader thinks he actually hates her and uhh just continues this fake rivarly then one day Cillian just asks the reader to come to the backstage in after hours (after work) and then maybe confront her about how much he loves her and after the reader refuses and declines his offer multiple times he ends up drugging and kidnapping the reader.

Sorry I explained the plot too much.

Thanks mate.

Okay...I may have gotten carried away and wrote a small blurb. Let me know if you guys want to see more of this.

There were no warning signs, nothing that could show your co-star’s obsessive feelings. His aloofness and borderline rudeness should have bothered you, and it did for a while, but you eventually got over it. You were a total boss, keeping your cool and staying polite with your head held high, knowing there wasn't any other way to handle it. We all know that Hollywood unfairly favors men. They can act badly with no repercussions, while women get scrutinized for the tiniest slip-ups. You did not let your negative feelings show and stay friendly with your co-stars and crew, even when they left you out of things. You knew that any drama could mess up your career at the peak of your fame. Luckily, your cast-mates made an effort to include you without upsetting Cillian. You actively avoided Cillian in get-togethers and parties because you didn't want to worsen your strained professional relationship. Since he was the lead actor and Nolan's top pick, and you were playing a supporting role, you could be easily replaced. Even though you didn't care, getting fired from a movie isn't a good look for any actor, let alone you…

Finally, after months of rehearsals, shooting, and re-shooting, the movie was done. The heavy weight on your chest lifted as you realized you were finally going home after what felt like an eternity. Nolan threw a party to thank everyone for their hard work, but let's just say you were eager to leave without being rude.

You were chatting with John David Washington and D’Arcy Carden about future projects.

Any plans now that the movie's wrapped up?”, John asked you as he took a sip of whiskey.

“I get to go home for a bit and then it's press tour time for MI,” you said excitedly.

“Oh God, press tours can be so monotonous, day in and day out, answering the same questions just in different ways.” D’Arcy sympathised.

“What could be so draining D’Arcy?” Nolan asked as he joined you along with a few other of your cast mates, including the one and only diva Cillian. You stiffened but were relieved by the buffer of people around you.

“We were just discussing what’s next for Y/N, she has a press tour coming up in a few weeks,” D’Arcy explained to the newcomers. Nolan chuckled.

“Yeah, press tours can be exhausting, but I'm still excited. I'm pumped to see Tarzan, Noah, and Zendaya! We've been so caught up with our projects that we haven't talked.” You blurt out cheerfully.

When your cast mates saw you all giddy, their smiles widened except for Cillian’s. He tightened his grip around his beer bottle, furious that you were so excited about meeting up with your friends. He wanted to be at the receiving end of that joy, that excitement, that anticipation.

“I expect the same level of excitement for the press tour for our movie.” John laughed.

“Not the same level, John, at least double the amount of excitement.” Nolan teased you.

“Well, we all have to wait and watch,” D’Arcy added.

“I promise to turn my excite-o-meter and charm to the fullest.” You jokingly promised as you side-hugged John, not noticing a set of clear blue eyes filled with rage.

Wheels were turning in Cillian’s brain. He would not let you slip out so easily, not without a fight. You were his, you just know it yet. And he was going to have to make you see that.

#Cillian Murphy x Reader #Cillian Murphy x Black Reader #Cillian Murphy x Desi Reader #Cillian Murphy x POC Reader #Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader #Dark Cillian Murphy x Reader #Dark Cillian Murphy x Black Reader #Dark Cillian Murphy x Desi Reader #Dark Cillian Murphy x POC Reader #Dark Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader #Dark!Cillian Murphy x Black Reader #Dark!Cillian Murphy x Desi Reader #Dark!Cillian Murphy x POC Reader #Dark!Cillian Murphy x Fem Reader #Dark Cillian Murphy #Dark!Cillian Murphy

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chandeliermichel · 3 months

Text

"Fairy Tale Writer Continuation Agreement" Event

Chapter Two

His POV

This translation is by no means accurate. This is for entertainment purpose only. Support Cybird by playing Ikemen Villains and buying their stories!

-PART 1

The next day, Kate showed up “a little later” than usual.

Kate: “Good morning, s-sorry. I overslept.”

William: “Oh, good morning, Kate. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

William: “I always get up early. In fact, it’s just the right time.”

Ellis: “Good morning, miss Kate.”

Ellis: “I bought this for you.”

Kate: “Ah, this!”

Ellis: “You know? The bakery on the first floor where you lived.”

Ellis: “I happened to be passing by.”

Kate: “Wow, that’s nostalgic. Thank you, Ellis.”

Ellis: “You are welcome. I hope you are happy.”

Ellis smiles and gives Kate a look that goes unnoticed by her.

Alfons was the one who rigged the alarm in Kate’s room.

The person who offered to go buy bread was Ellis.

Then, as I finished my slightly late brunch, my cat peeked out at me, as if in agreement.

Liam: “Katie, are you busy with work today?”

Kate: “I already submitted my latest report last night, so it’s okay. What happened?”

Liam: “It seems like an actor at La Scala is looking for someone to fill in for La Pretaire. Who is he?”

-PART 2

Last night, when I told him what I was planning to do, the Crown asked me to their “accomplice.”

(In addition, it feels strangely green that people who seek the attention of Kate gather like this.)

Liam: “I really want to tell you how I feel.”

Liam: “But, if the confession fails…”

Kate lowered her eyes for a moment in response to Liam’s words, then smiled beautifully.

Kate: “There is certainly no guarantee that you will succeed or that you will not get hurt.”

Kate: “But if you have a feeling you want to convey, let’s try it.”

Kate: “The only person who can listen to your heart and voice is yourself.”

William: “........”

Kate: “So… it’s completely up to Will.”

You can feel the change in Kate as a person as she smiles shyly.

(You, who have lived your life with a lid on your desires and muted your voice, have already disappeared into the darkness.)

I kissed Kate’s pale cheek, and Kate blinked at me.

William: “I am glad you remember, Kate. I almost started dancing.”

Kate: “Hehe, do you need a dance partner?”

-PART 3

(You, who have lived your life with a lid on your desires and muted your voice, have already disappeared into the darkness.)

I kissed Kate’s pale cheek and Kate blinked at me.

William: “I am glad you remember, Kate. I almost started dancing.”

Kate: “Hehe, do you need a dance partner?”

William: “Oh, I just happened to have both hands free.”

Liam: “No more flirting! Katie, please write for me.”

Kate: “Yes, I am writing this with all my heart!”

As she finishes writing the first love letter, I turn my attention to the clock.

(.....It’s about time Harrison showed his face.)

Then, just in time, the lying fox appeared.

Harrison: “I heard a rumour that the post office where you worked is short-staffed due to the holiday season.”

Kate: “Eh? Ah, I am sure they are very busy this time of year…”

William: “Well, Kate. What do you want to do?”

–

Kate: “I am sorry, Will. Even though I said I wanted to help, I asked to be sent there.”

William: “No, it’s convenient. I have an excuse to stay with you.”

Kate: “Hehe.”

William: “...Yes?”

Kate: “I just talked to Will the other day. Are you hungry?”

Kate: “I feel like today is a lot like the day I met you.”

William: “......” :)

William: “If it’s the day we met, then we are two strangers who aren’t yet in a deep relationship.”

William: “Nice to meet you, Kate. You are quite attractive, but may I ask if you have a partner?”

Kate: “Nice to meet you, Lord Rex. Unfortunately, I have a partner.”

Kate: “A happy, strong, freedom-loving, self-righteous king.”

William: “Hahaha!”

-PART 4

[In the post office]

Kate: “Um… it’s been a while.”

Black-haired postal worker: “Eh, miss Kate…? It’s miss Kate!”

Cheerful post office worker: “The queen fell in love with me, and I decided to serve her in the palace!”

Cheerful post office worker: “Could it be that you came to help me? I-I’m saved… my saviour.”

Black-haired postal worker: “Guys, miss Kate is here to help!”

Watching Kate from a distance, I quietly leave the area.

(....Now then, how about gathering information about the mission while Kate is away?)

I remember that even before I came out with Kate, I was chasing a “certain case”, and I smile at that sense of deja vu.

(This time, it was all planned by me)

(It feels like I’m also caught up in something that feels like fate)

By the time I got all the information, the air in London was tinged with yellow lights.

There was something familiar in the dark back alleys of Piccadilly where people were coming and going.

(If I remember correctly, it was here. This is where Kate and I first met.)

-PART 5

[Flashback]

The fast wind snatched the letter from Kate’s hand and brought it to me.

Kate: “Excuse me, it’s being delivered.”

(Kate, who came chasing after the envelope, had a very cloudy look in her eyes.)

William: “Here, lady.”

Kate: “...Ah, thank you very much.”

William: “You are welcome.”

Kate: “.......”

When I handed over the envelope, Kate looked at me blankly, as if she was beside herself.

And I thought this.

(Ah, “I found it”)

Kate’s eyes had the colour of suppressing something that she shouldn’t say.

(And I love the moment when such a person makes up their mind and speaks freely.)

Kate’e eyes flicker slightly as she stares back at me, looking as if suppressing something.

(At that moment, I felt like I could see a glimpse of desire burning deep in her eyes.)

(I felt like I was opening her heart’s cry, which was tied.)

(“Somewhere”)

(“Take me to some other world—”)

Kate clearly wants to change.

I could clearly see that her deep-seated desires were struggling for freedom.

And that Kate herself has put a curse on herself.

[Flashback ends]

(I thought it was really beautiful to see her live according to her heart)

(But I also thought I couldn’t do it)

Unless she takes the step of her own free will, she can not search for it.

However, Kate now knows the courage to take a step forward, how to free her heart, and how to be honest with her desires.

(I wonder what kind of beautiful face Kate will make when I will give her the choice)

I smiled as if I was looking forward to the rising sunrise.

Kate: “......Will?”

Kate appeared in a back alley during the evening time.

Just like when we met, with a letter in my hand.

#translation #ikevil william #william rex #ikevil translation #ikevil event

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wolfgirl-valentine · 1 year

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Dreamling Week 2023 Monday 5 - Stuck in an elevator (Human AU)

Murphy sat on the floor, trying to do the breathing exercises his sister taught him, he had already discarded his coat and tie, the air feeling more stale every minute spent in this death trap.

He never liked elevators, and his current predicament just makes his aversion more justified.

He looked at his phone again, 45 minutes, he had been stuck between floors 8 and 9 for 45 minutes. Sighing he let his head fall back, he already called for help and was told a team was in their way, but that was 45…46 minutes ago. Just as he was about to call again, the sound of steel hitting steel made him jump.

For a moment the panic gets a hold of him, before a muffled voice calls his name.

"Mr Endleas can you hear me?"

"Yes!"

"Good, my name is Robert, I'm from the fire department, I need you to move away from the door, we'll get you out here in no time"

"Oh thank you" he stands quickly, grabbing his coat, tie and messenger bag with him, the metallic noises come back, and he clenches his hands over his belongings when the whole thing shakes, then the doors star to open, and he can see a man with a crowbar forcing them apart, since the thing got stuck between floors the exit was from the middle of the door to up, the man clad in a firefighter uniform doing the maneuver was on his knees.

Once they are completely open and held in place, the man extend a hand in his direction "Come on Mr Endelas, let get you out of here"

Murphy pass his things first, then he takes the offered hand and let himself be lifted through the narrow space, at one point the man put his other arm around his waist to better support his weight, and soon he is out of the damned thing, pressed against a broad chest, then he is helped to his feet by a pair of strong arms, which he is grateful for since his legs are so cramped he is sure he would fall on his face if left on his own.

“Sorry for the delay Mr Endleas, we need to make sure the structure was stable enough before risking forcing the doors'' The man, Robert, smiled at him, and the complaint forming on his tongue about the tardiness died on his throat.

“It's…quite alright” then he realized he had not let go of the man, and moved away as if burned “Thank you for your assistance” he wished, desperately, that the blush on his face wasn't noticeable.

“It's our job sir” his smile full of amusement, and Murphy is about to call out the insolence when the man continues “although, if you are amenable of let me take you out for dinner one of this days in gratitude I wouldn't be opposed” his expression turning flirtatious.

“I…this is highly inappropriate”

“Is that a no?”

“Well...It would be rude of my part if I dont thank you, wouldn't it?”

“Oh it definitely would be! Are you free to say…saturday at 8pm?”

“I may be…”

“Great! I’ll give you my number so we can decide the place”

“That would be wise”

“See you on saturday then Mr Endelas”

“You may call me Murphy…Robert” And with that Murphy makes his retreat to the stairs, his face hot as in flames.

Maybe elevators aren't as bad as he thought.

(Sorry it feels so rushed, english is not my first lenguage)

#dreamling week 2023 #dreamling week #dreamling #dream x hob #unrealistic AF but whatever

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bucky-fricking-barnes · 2 years

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I’m Listening (Between The Lines)

Title: I’m Listening (Between The Lines)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Selectively Mute!Reader

Word Count: 6k

Warnings: Very mild language, mentions of being triggered, symptoms of PTSD and panic attacks

Summary: Y/N is in charge of reviewing the Avengers’ mission reports, and when Steve brings her coffee to apologize for all the paperwork, something more comes of it.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fic! Please note that it is a work of fiction and people who are selectively mute may or may not communicate in the ways depicted in this story. Thank you for supporting my work by reading, liking, reblogging, and commenting! I couldn’t do this without you. Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

You’re hard at work on a stack of paperwork from the Avengers’ last mission when Elijah comes by your office with his delivery cart. He gives you an apologetic smile as he slides the second large pile into the only open space on your desk, his face twisting in sympathy.

“Sorry,” he says when your shoulders slump forward. “It was apparently a big one.” You nod and then he’s off again, heading back towards his cart and then to your floor’s mail room for whatever he’s supposed to deliver next.

The extra workload isn’t unexpected; you’ve known it was coming since your supervisor had mentioned off-hand that the team was going out again—something about a terrorist cell in Europe. It hasn’t been on the news, but you have a feeling that the whole thing is being kept on the down-low until all damages and casualties have been accounted for. Fury likes to know everything going into press conferences. In short, you have a long week ahead of you, with probably more late nights than not.

Elijah passes by the doorway a few minutes later with a full cart of parcels and papers, but you pay him no heed as you bury yourself back into your work. The blue light from the computer has most certainly contributed to your headache, and as you read through the mission reports from the mission in Latin America, you rub your temples with your free hand.

“I know that I’m probably the main cause of that headache,” you practically leap out of your seat when Captain Rogers appears in your office doorway, “so I figured I’d bring you a peace offering. Tony said it was your favorite.”

Captain Rogers holds up a brown paper takeout bag and sets it on the small table just inside the door. You give him a tight smile and a nod in thanks. He doesn’t leave, however, and you try not to look too uncomfortable with the situation as he leans against the doorframe. He’s still in his uniform. You’d dimmed the ceiling lights in favor of the lamp on your desk, but you can still see the thin coating of dirt, soot, and blood on his face. It covers the red, white, and blue of the suit, too.

“Hopefully we didn’t add too much work for you?” he prompts, and you reluctantly shake your head. It’s only the normal of work amount for an Avengers mission, which is a lot, but you’ve learned to manage it.

Slowly, you close the mission folder and set down your pen, then push away from your desk. Your muscles are tight but you refrain from stretching while he’s still standing there.

“That’s good,” he says. He pauses, then continues, “Thank you for being so thorough with the mission reports. I know I write a lot, but it’s important to me that everything is recorded. You never know when those details will come in handy.”

You nod again and force another smile. You’re exhausted and starving. You silently will him out of your office, then feel bad for wishing that Captain America would leave. He means well and he’s never been anything other than a gentleman. It’s not even that you don’t like him, because you very much do. He just… lingers. You’re never quite sure if it’s because he’s just curious about you or if it’s something more. Maybe you could ask the other employees in your department for their tricks for getting him out of your office. He never seemed to want to be around them as much as he did you.

Captain Rogers clears his throat and straightens when you approach to take the bag of food from where he’d set it down. When you turn your back to bring it back to your desk, he steps further into your office, following you.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you—”

You turn with eyebrows raised and with the food clutched against you, a little startled to find him this close when you’d purposely tried to create some distance. He’s now within arm’s reach.

“Sorry.” He raises his hands in apology and steps back into the doorway, watching you carefully. When you’ve relaxed a little and set the food down on the corner of your desk, he asks, “Would you want to grab a coffee some time? It can be in the shop in the lobby, if you’d rather not leave the building during your break.”

Confused, you frown at him. He wanted to buy you coffee? Why?

“Or you can tell me what you want and I can bring it to you,” he offers. “As a thank you for dealing with all our shit.”

Captain Rogers gestures to the teetering stacks of papers on your desk and you can’t help but smile a little. Hadn’t Tony mentioned that his teammate was a stickler for clean language?

The room fills with an uncomfortable silence and as the awkward pause seems to stretch on for too long, you reach for the tablet on your desk. He takes that as a sign to bow out while his dignity is still somewhat intact. Panicked, you race to find the button you want. You jab your index finger against the screen when the app finally loads the selection of neat little squares that represents your schedule.

“Tomorrow at 2:30pm Eastern Daylight Time,” FRIDAY reports through the overhead speakers.

You blink when the Captain turns around, visibly confused by FRIDAY’s sudden interruption into his escape. With the tablet still in hand, you press the button again, this time adding on the beginning you’d dropped in order to give him a quick answer.

“My break tomorrow is at 2:30pm Eastern Daylight Time,” FRIDAY says.

Slowly, Captain Rogers resumes his place in the doorway. You can tell he’s still processing your strange way of answering, so you offer him a small, encouraging smile. He doesn’t seem angry that you haven’t spoken aloud, just a little confused.

“Do you want to meet there or do you want me to bring you coffee here?” he finally asks.

You only have to glance at the tablet to input your response for FRIDAY to relay. “Please bring it here.”

“If I give you my number, can you tell me your coffee order?”

This time, you grab a sticky note from your desk and scribble down your order. You’re almost positive that the baristas will recognize it given the number of times you’ve frequented the cafe while working on Avenger mission reports. Captain Rogers steps into the office and takes the sticky note when you hold it out, his eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiles at you.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” he says, holding up the sticky note. He backs up towards the door and gives you a small, awkward salute, then heads back down the hall towards the bank of elevators.

Grinning, you plop back down in your office chair and pull the bag of food into your lap. As soon as you’ve got it open, you can tell that it’s exactly what you like to order on long nights like these. The smell coming from the still-hot containers inside is warm and welcoming. Captain Rogers had definitely asked Tony about you. The thought shouldn’t make you giddy, but it does anyway. You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you scarf down the food and hurry to finish up your last set of reports so that you can head home.

The next day, Captain Rogers knocks on your door just as the digital clock on your desk changes to 2:30. You look up and smile, then gesture for him to come in while you close the report folder and set the papers aside. He’s got coffee cups in both hands and a pastry bag hanging precariously between his left index and middle fingers.

You quickly get to your feet and take the cup and bag and he holds out to you, smiling in thanks. He makes sure not to crowd you as you inspect the contents of the bag and the order scrawled on the cup in black marker.

“Everything right?” he asks, and you look up and nod. “Good. That’s good.”

He pauses, clearly wanting to say something else, so you raise your eyebrows at him expectantly. Captain Rogers glances at your desk and then forces a polite smile.

“I guess I’ll see you around? You look like you have a lot of work to do, I wouldn’t want to interrupt your break if you just want to sit and relax.”

When he goes to leave, you reach out and touch the side of his arm before you thinking twice. The pastry bag bumps against his arm as Captain Rogers stops and looks back at you. Hesitantly, you smile a little and nod over at the couch and chairs situated against one wall of your office. The room is small enough to suit your position at the Tower, but it’s also big enough that Tony had outfitted it with a couch, two armchairs, and a coffee table in addition to your desk and office chair. He took good care of you, and for that you were thankful. You’d yet to find a workplace as welcoming as the Avengers Tower, and that was saying something, given all the danger that surrounded your work. It helped that Tony had known you long before he’d become Iron Man.

The smile on Captain Roger’s face returned, but this time it was genuine. He nods in agreement and follows you over to the sitting area. You don’t fail to notice that he trails behind and lets you pick where you want to sit before taking a seat himself.

There’s a tablet built into the wall off to the side of the couch. You set your coffee and pastry down, then twist in your seat so you can pull the device from the wall. It pops out and the screen lights up automatically, scanning your face before unlocking the app that connects you to FRIDAY.

“Thank you for the coffee,” the AI says as your fingers fly over the screen. “You got everything right.”

“Well, they seemed to know your order as soon as I started reading it. I think I got a few words in before they asked if it was for you,” he replies.

Your cheeks heat up and you smile, ducking your head back down to tap at the tablet. “I go there a lot at night.”

“Doesn’t the workday end at 5:00?”

Nodding, you gesture with one hand at the large stacks of Avenger mission reports piled on your desk. You grab your coffee from the table with the other as Steve’s face flushes. Even his ears turn a little pink. It’s adorable.

“Oh.” He fiddles with the cup of coffee in his hands. It seems so small and you glance between your cup and his, wondering if he got a smaller sized drink or if he’s really just that big. “Sorry about that. Like I said last night, I—”

You hold up a hand to stop him before he can apologize and rationalize his actions again, then shake your head, hoping he understands. Thankfully, he nods and takes a small sip of his coffee.

“What did you get to drink?” you ask via FRIDAY.

“I usually get black coffee with a little bit of sugar.”

Your face must’ve clearly betrayed your thoughts because Captain Rogers laughs. He gestures with his cup at the one in your hands.

“I’ve tried something similar to yours. It was okay. I haven’t seem to find anything I really like, but I will say that even the plain coffee nowadays is better than the stuff we had when I was growing up.”

Smiling softly, you nod in understanding and set your cup down, then reach for the pastry he’d picked up for you. You pull it from the bag and tear it in half, holding one of the parts out for him to take.

“No, it’s okay,” he says, but you push it towards him insistently. Sharing is the least you can do.

Captain Rogers takes it after your push it a second time. You watch as he takes a bite, raising your eyebrows when he looks back up at you.

“This is amazing!”

You nod excitedly and pull up the keyboard on your tablet, typing as quickly as you can with only one hand.

“It’s my favorite. My mom used to get it for me on special occasions when I was little. I was happy when they added it to the menu here at the Tower.”

He’s smiling as he finishes his half of the pastry. You eat your own and you’re leaning forward to set the tablet on the coffee table when FRIDAY chimes through the speakers.

“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Stark is on the phone for you. Shall I tell him you’re otherwise occupied? Your break is not scheduled to end for another three minutes.”

You tap the “yes” button on the tablet as you set it down and turn your body back towards Captain Rogers. He glances at the tablet, then at you.

“You can answer that if you want,” he says. “It’s probably important if Stark is calling you.”

Knowing it’s not, you shake your head with a small smile. You don’t talk on the phone and Tony knows that. If he’s calling you, it means that he’s somehow heard Captain Rogers is with you and he wants to interrupt. He likes to scare people away if he thinks they’ll be bad for you, and though you appreciate his protectiveness, you can take care of yourself. Captain Rogers is a good man. Logically, he should make you anxious. He’s a large man and he has abilities that would surely allow him to overpower you in an instant, but instead of fear, you feel safe. He would never hurt you and it’s easy to relax in his company.

“Are you sure?” he asks, and you nod again.

FRIDAY interrupts him before he can say anything more. “I’m sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but Mr. Stark is overriding my systems. Apparently it’s urgent.”

You roll your eyes as Captain Rogers raises an eyebrow. Instead of paying close attention to whatever Tony’s rambling about as his voice floods the speakers in your office, you sip your coffee and open up the notes app on your tablet so you can scrawl out a message with the attached stylus.

Captain Rogers is standing to leave when you tilt the screen for him to see. He pauses to read your message and then glances up at the ceiling where the speakers are inlaid. You can see the wheels turning in his head.

“Don’t you need to go help him with OGRE?”

You frown and tilt your head a little, then tune into the sound of Tony’s voice. It’s not hard to track what he’s saying, but you’ve also gotten good at tuning him out over the years.

“—need you ASAP. Dum-E’s mostly just getting in the way today—this is your own fault, you know better than that—and Pepper’s out of the office on some good relations press tour, so you’re really the only person who can come help me sort out this OGRE business. Worry about all those reports later, we’ve got—”

As far as you know, Tony isn’t working on any new projects, secret or otherwise. You can usually tell when he’s keeping something under wraps, though he’s quick to clue you in about any developments in the “secret” projects. OGRE isn’t real. He’s making things up to get you away from Captain Rogers, and that irks you.

You clap twice, as loud as possible, and Tony stops speaking. It’s your surefire way of getting his attention and telling him to shut up.

“I’m sorry, am I bothering you?” he asks.

Huffing, you switch back to your communication app and tap the “yes” so that FRIDAY will relay your annoyance. For good measure, you add the “asshole” button as an afterthought.

Tony chuckles on the other end of the line. Your words are being communicated directly to him through FRIDAY, but they’re not coming through the speakers, and you catch the Captain watching you and the screen out of the corner of your eye.

“Your break ended a minute ago, Y/N,” Tony says, and you can hear the teasing in his voice. “Why don’t you come up and help me? I’m sure Steve has more important things to be working on.”

“I don’t,” Captain Rogers flatly replies. “And we were enjoying ourselves until you interrupted. Why do you need Y/N’s help anyway? She doesn’t work in the science division.”

You try not to seem insulted at his answer. Of course he doesn’t know about your longstanding friendship with Tony, and there’s no way for him to know that you’d been working on a graduate degree at MIT before you’d had to drop out your senior year after everything that had happened. Tony and Fury buried that deep within SHIELD records at your request. You don’t want to be dragged into anything that could possibly trigger you, though you’ve gotten better at it over the years. Tony is careful not to invite you up while he’s working on anything that could be a possible trigger.

As subtly as possible, you tap a few buttons on the tablet screen, letting Tony know you’ll be up in a few minutes. He’s quiet for a moment before FRIDAY informs you that he’s ended the call.

Captain Rogers is frowning when you glance over at him. You reach over with one hand and tap his, giving him a worried look.

“I’m fine,” he replies, shaking his head. “Does Tony always demand things like that during your break? It’s no wonder you’re here so late all the time?”

You pause, wondering how to approach the topic, especially since he’s clearly noted that you often leave late. Has he been keeping tabs on you?

FRIDAY relays your message after you finish pressing all the buttons you want. “Tony and I are friends. We met when I was working on my doctorate at MIT. He’s just trying to get a reaction out of both of us, but he probably also wants my help with something that he doesn’t really need help with. I’m a good sounding board, apparently.”

You offer the Captain a small smile when FRIDAY finishes speaking, and he relaxes a little. Carefully, you set the tablet down aside. He stands as you do and you both tidy up the coffee and pasty trash.

“Thank you for humoring me during your break,” Captain Rogers says as you put the tablet back into the built-in dock on the wall.

Smiling, you glance over your shoulder at him, then click the tablet into place. “I had fun, Captain Rogers. Thank you,” you tap out before stepping away from the device. You grab your coffee from where you’d set it on the edge of the desk, if only to have something to hold so you’re not standing awkwardly in front of him.

“Please call me Steve. Maybe we can do this again sometime?” he asks. After a moment, you nod in response. Steve smiles wide. “Have a good day, Y/N.”

You wave a little and watch in silence as he leaves. The butterflies in your stomach are back, launched into flight by the sight of his smile. It makes you wonder if he had such a winning smile before the serum. If he had, maybe he would’ve eventually been scooped up by some pretty girl who didn’t mind him being on the small side. You definitely wouldn’t have.

Coffee breaks with Steve become a regular occurrence, and it’s one of the best parts of your day. He’s being sent on more missions than usual lately, so after your third break together, he offers his phone number so that the two of you can text. You graciously hand over your phone and hope that he can’t hear your heart as it tries to beat out of your chest in excitement.

It’s on one of the days that Steve is out on a mission with the rest of his team, Tony included, that something triggers you. You woke up feeling a little queasy, but you’d pushed it aside and gone to the office anyway. Now you regretted that decision.

Something one of your co-workers had put in the break room microwave triggered something in your brain. The smell is somehow wafting across the entire floor of offices and cubicles, and you’d seen a few peoples’ disgusted faces before the scent had made it to you. All bets were off as soon as you’d smelt it. Instantly, you were back in the lab at MIT, staring down the man you’d once considered a mentor.

You blink away the memory and curl up on the floor with your back against your desk drawers. The handles dig painfully against your spine but it doesn’t really register as you fumble with your tablet, pressing the button that turns the clear glass wall of your office into an opaque one so that your co-workers couldn’t see you melting down. You manage to press the button to turn on the fans in your office too, hoping that will force the smell away from you quicker. You’re fading fast, and you react on instinct, grabbing your phone and pressing the call button.

“Hey, Y/N.”

When Steve’s voice comes over the speaker on your phone, you’re frantic. Why was he answering? Had something happened to Tony? He sounded too casual for something to be wrong.

“Y/N, are you there?” Steve asks.

You’re frozen in place even though your heart and mind are racing inside of you. How you’d managed to call him instead of Tony, you’re not sure, but you can’t speak over the phone, especially not with him, and you don’t know what to do. If you just hang up, Steve could call back, and you don’t think you have the mental capacity to text right now.

There’s a loud rumbling in the background of the call, but you can hear faint voices as well. Struggling to focus, you shudder and close your eyes, listening carefully to try and decipher what they’re saying.

The first person you can pick out is Tony. His voice sounds tinny and far away, but it’s definitely him. “Is that Y/N? Did she call you?”

“Uh, yeah,” Steve says, pulling slightly away from the phone before lifting it back to his ear. “Y/N, is everything okay?”

“FRIDAY’s sensing something’s wrong. Her heart rate and blood pressure are high and she’s breathing abnormally,” Tony says, and you grimace. Of course the AI noticed your vitals were off. You try to take a deep breath to calm yourself down, but your skin is crawling and your muscles all feel too tense.

Steve brings you back to the present when he speaks again. His voice is a little bit softer this time. “You don’t have to talk, it’s okay. Whatever happened, it’s going to be okay. FRIDAY would’ve told us if something was really wrong in the building, so I know it’s not that. I just need to know if you’re safe or not, Y/N. Can you let me know somehow if you’re safe?”

You don’t know how to tell him that it’s all in your head and that you don’t necessarily trust yourself right now, so you stay silent and motionless, curled up in a ball behind your desk.

“Do you want me to send someone to check on you?” Steve asks.

A panicked grunt escapes from the depths of your chest before you think twice, and you grip the phone harder.

“Okay, I won’t send anyone. Can you… Do you think you could clap? Or click for me?” Steve demonstrates, clucking his tongue against the roof of his mouth one time. The ridiculous idea of him making that noise in an airplane full of Avengers loosens the knot in your chest. After a moment, you mimic the sound.

“Good, that’s good,” he soothes. “Once for yes, twice for no, okay? Are you safe?”

It takes you a second, but you click once. Steve’s sigh of relief on the other end of the call is audible.

“Good. Are you injured?”

You click twice.

“Do you want me to distract you from whatever’s going on?”

One click.

That’s all the confirmation he needs, and then Steve is launching into some story about Clint and Tony arguing over the food that they brought with them on the mission. Apparently, they had a rotating cycle of who was in charge, and Tony had somehow found a way to rig it so that he was the person who chose the food for the last three missions. That sounded exactly like something he would do, and by the time Steve has finished the story and moved onto a new one, you’re more yourself.

The noise in the background of the call lessens over time, and the voices of the other Avengers disappear after Steve’s fourth story. You’re enraptured by the smooth, low sound of his voice over the phone speaker. Slowly but surely, you relax enough that your muscles can finally unclench and you move from being tightly curled against the desk to having your legs sprawled out in front of you a little. Your body still feels heavy, though, and you carefully move to lay on the floor on your side. The plush rug you added to your office is suddenly a godsend and you’re mobile enough now to reach up and grab the pillow from your desk chair. It’s normally just a back support pillow, something you’d deemed a necessity after sitting for hours on end, but now it’s a source of comfort as you tuck it underneath your head.

“You still with me, Y/N?” Steve finally asks.

You’re drowsy now that the panic has washed away and the adrenaline is leaving your system, but you cluck your tongue once. You swallow and try to rid your mouth of the dryness. It takes a great effort, but you manage to force out a weak “thank you” in the quiet.

Steve doesn’t hesitate or seem surprised by your response. “You don’t need to thank me,” he says. “I’d do anything for you, Y/N.”

That makes you smile. You put the phone on speaker and set it beside you on the floor, then close your eyes again.

“We’re back at the tower now. I’ll come check on you as soon as I’m cleared by medical. Are you in your office?” You click once in response. “Okay. Tony’s already been cleared so I think he’s coming to find you. I’ll stay on the line and talk when I can, but even if you can’t hear me, know that I’m here on the phone. Alright, sweetheart?”

You click again and listen as Steve goes back to telling his stories. After a while, he stops talking and you can hear someone else, presumably one of the medical team members, talking to him.

While Steve is occupied by one of the Tower doctors, your office door opens and someone enters the room. You don’t need to sit up or open your eyes to know that it’s Tony because he’s muttering about the overpowering smell. Apparently, it’s not just your floor that’s feeling the effects of your co-worker’s horrible meal choices. A wave of the smell enters with him and you have to brace yourself as your mind screams at you, your old mentor’s words banging around in your skull. For a moment, you doubt if it’s really you that’s sitting in your office. Maybe you’re still at MIT and this is all just another experiment being done on you.

“Hey there, kiddo.”

Slowly, you blink open your eyes and stare up at Tony. He’s crouched beside you, one hand braced on the corner of the desk so he doesn’t lose his balance.

“It’s pretty bad out there. I’m sending everyone home early and I turned on the fans in every room on the floor. You hurt?” he asks, though you’re positive he already knows the answer because of Steve.

You shake your head and move into a sitting position. It takes you longer than it should but he doesn’t rush you or seem impatient. Tony understands what it’s like after being triggered.

“I think Steve is probably on the way up. Do you want me to help you back to your apartment after he’s checked on you, or do you want him to help?” Tony asks.

After thinking it over, you hold up two fingers—option two, have Steve help you. Tony smiles a little, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he shifts to sit on the floor instead of crouch.

“You really like him, don’t you?”

You’re very aware that Steve is still on the phone and you glance down at the device, then up at Tony. It’s clear that the genius knew exactly what he was doing and that he already knew that Steve was still present in some capacity. Your cheeks feel hot as you nod.

“Steve and I don’t always get along. My therapist would say that we should find middle ground and work out our issues since we’re both grown adults” Tony begins, waving a hand dismissively. “I trust your judgement, Y/N. You’re smart. You don’t need my permission or approval if you want to date him, but as your friend, I want you to know that if he makes you happy, then I’ll be happy about it. He always seems to be on your best behavior around you, which is good. You’re a lot more relaxed around him than anybody else on the team, besides me, of course..”

Tony has bad timing for heart-to-heart conversations and though you still feel a little bit like you’re in the wrong body and itching to get out, you appreciate that he’s telling you what’s on his mind. He doesn’t often do that, not when other people—like Steve—could overhear. It’s forcing you to stay present with him.

You nod a little and then Tony is producing a water bottle from somewhere and asking if you’d like to have some. He mothers you until there’s a soft knock at the door.

“That’s Steve,” Tony tells you. “You’re good if I let him and head up to see Pep? She’s got an early flight out in the morning and I want to make sure we’ve got time together tonight.”

You nod again and he gets up. He leaves you behind the desk and you reach out to tap the red button on your phone to end the call now that Steve’s here with you. A few moments later, Steve is occupying the spot where Tony had just been sitting. He’s clearly worried, but he’s trying to act casual about the whole thing, and he’s practically doing a whole song and dance to make sure you’re comfortable after what’s happened, even though he doesn’t even really know what happened.

“Steve,” you murmur, smiling a little. Your throat is tight and it feels like someone’s scraping sandpaper over the tissue and muscles there as you speak.

He pauses and meets your eyes. “Yes?”

You reach out and take his hand in yours, squeezing once. He squeezes back and you keep hold of his hand as you look up at the tablet on your desk. It’s just out of your reach, but Steve grabs it easily and sets it on the floor between the two of you.

With your free hand, you open the app and tap a few buttons.

“Will you take me to my apartment?” FRIDAY asks.

The AI’s voice comes through all the speakers in the room and you flinch at the volume. You’re not as wound up as before, however, so you’re able to switch the settings on the tablet so that it’s no longer connected to FRIDAY and instead just coming through the tiny speakers on the device.

“Yeah, I can,” Steve answers. He rubs his thumb over your hand in small, soothing strokes. “What’s your address?”

“I live on floor 23,” you tap out. “Unit 46.”

He huffs a little, smiling. “No kidding. We’re almost neighbors. How did I miss that?”

You shrug at him and lock the tablet, then gather up your phone and the pillow from your lap. Steve stands first. He offers to help you to your feet and you nod in consent. His hands are gentle as he guides you until you’re standing upright, and though you’re a little dizzy from not eating most of the day, you’re mostly stable.

“Do you think you’re okay to walk?” he asks.

Slowly, you nod. You drop the pillow back onto your desk chair where it belongs and tuck your phone into your pocket, then adjust the tablet so you can tap on it again.

“The smell is the problem,” the tiny speakers announce for you. “I don’t know what will happen when we leave my office.”

Steve nods in understanding and places a gentle hand on the small of your back. “I’m right here,” he reassures you. “I can carry you or find a place for you to sit if we need to take a break.”

The two of you leave your office and make it to your apartment with little difficulty. You leave the tablet behind on your desk. Like he promised, Steve supports you when you need it, and he slows down after you get off the elevator on your floor so that you can steady yourself.

“You gonna be okay?” he asks as you arrive outside the door of your apartment. The hall is empty of other agents and employees, though it’s close to dinner time, so you imagine that most of them are either out or making their way towards one of the cafes and cafeterias inside the Tower.

You nod and pull out your phone, typing quickly and then showing him the screen.

“You want me to stay? Are you sure?” Steve goes to shove his hands in his jacket pockets. He’s still dressed in his suit from the mission, so there’s no pockets, and his entire face flushes when his hands jab at nothing. He drops them back down to his sides as a giggle escapes you. Though he’s still pink, he grins wide at the sound.

Typing furiously, you tell him that of course you want him to stay. It’s helpful for you to have company to keep you present, and you trust him.

“I’m not exactly good company after missions,” he tells you. “I need to shower.”

You smile in understanding and type out another message. He watches over your shoulder, reading as you go. He seems a little relieved when you reassure him that he doesn’t need to talk if he just wants to relax after his mission.

“Watching movies sounds good. There’s so many I haven’t seen yet. Do you want to pick one of your favorites while I shower? I can come back with snacks.”

The promise of snacks makes you smile, and Steve smiles back. When you nod, he leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek. Your face is warm when he pulls away, and your smile turns shy as Steve backs away from you with a little wave.

“I’ll be back soon, Y/N,” he says, and you nod at him before heading into your room to set up the movie night.

As an afterthought, you pull out your phone and text him a few of your favorite snacks. Steve is quick to reply. He already knows what you like, apparently, and the sweet texts he sends you are enough to make your horrible afternoon feel like almost nothing.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

I do not consent to have my work posted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. If anyone sees my work anywhere other than my personal tumblr, Patreon, or ao3 accounts, it has been reposted without my permission.

If you want to support me further, consider buying me a ko-fi! My ko-fi is also under my SPN fanfiction blog, but I promise it’s me.

If you would like to be added to my tags, please send me a message or an ask! I tag for Everything, Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker.

Tagging people who might enjoy: @lipstickandvibranium

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drdemonprince · 5 months

Note

Re: the op-ed about individual problems for structural oppression

The first thing that popped into my head was experiences at my current job. I work as a therapist and have been very frustrated with how team leads and directors have a handled a colleague’s (woman of color) experience of racism and sexism from a client (cishet white male) by consulting to the therapist with various ways to continue working with the client and focusing on the therapy process, instead of finding solutions to balance supporting the clinician and also providing competent care. Further, the therapist’s request for structural changes to support therapists have gone unanswered. She is now leaving, because of unaddressed structural racism, and has shared with me the shame that has been stoked at various stages of the experience.

I am also leaving, because of structural ableism (I have physical disabilities and am autistic, though my employer doesn’t know the latter). The casual ableism (‘have you tried caffeine?’ for chronic fatigue, ‘client’s dad is autistic, so he can’t understand her feelings,’ ‘client doesn’t need a wheelchair’ who was later diagnosed with POTS) has been so exhausting, both in navigating them as they come and doing the personal work necessary to continue dismantling my own internalized ableism.

Focusing on individual solutions to structural problems feeds the individual shame, which upholds the oppressive status quo, even though individual shame is unjustified when the problem is structural.

It reminded me of this article, that you may have seen: https://apple.news/AyvsxLiQGS56ajZ5U3YJhWA

These are disparate thoughts, rather than a clear, cohesive suggestion, and I offer them in the hopes they provide some sparks.

Wow! Thank you for this message. I really feel like you *get* exactly what Systemic Shame is and why it's so politically effective and damaging. I wrote about some phenomena similar to what you are describing in the book! But particularly with regard to academic and professional DEI initiatives -- always focused on individual-scale changes the employee can make and feel-good personal exploration exercises, nothing that will materially help the people who are marginalized or upend the structures of power. Lots of obsfucating liberal talk. Sorry to hear you have also had to deal with so much of it.

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satoruin · 5 months

Text

year’s end thank you post!

when i started this blog i didn’t really think much of it because all i wanted was to write fanfic but i’ve made lots of friends and it’s become a happy place :) thank you guys for 1.5K followers even though i seldom put out fics and i’m bad at interacting but i’m thankful for it all and i wish all of you the very best for the year :))

to my faithful followers: there’s a few of you i recognize that like many of my posts and i know it’s a banger post when y’all reblog and i smile seeing you in my notifs when no one else is thank you for giving me my hits of serotonin

to my moots that i may have missed: i’m so sorry if i did but it doesn’t make me love you any less! i am just bad of keeping track of who’s not active or moved or whatever else but still i wish you the very best and hope we interact more in the new year!

to my mootie patooties:

@mocha-bunbun : mocha darling i love you so very much/p you’ve been an amazing moot and friend and i love the support you give me and i hope the new year treats you well!!!

@tiredsleep : tired! i love you very much and you always helpe bounce around fic ideas and i really do have a satoru fic in the works so hope the new year treats us well and brings our blue eyed babygirl back to us. hugs and love going into the new year for you

@kazemiya: KAZE MY LOVE! you always liked my silly rant posts on my sideblog and i appreciate it! i also love love love interacting with you when you’re active and i hope that we can talk more! i hope all of your tests and studies have gone well and will continue to go well :) lots of love for you and have an amazing year

@verxsyon: VERA!! i think you’re one of my first moots and you’re from my very old blog and we did hq together (which movie in feb??) you’re the driving force behind my star rail love and dan heng series so thank you for being an amazing writer and giving me inspo!!! i love you and hope we have more opportunities to talk :) wishing you a happy new year <3

@2018-01-20: BOO my babygirl and my fellow dan heng simp. you’re so amazing and i eat everything you put out. ik you’re not very active but i sincerely love every time we interact and i just love you <3 hoping for more dan heng screen time and a happy and prosperous year for you!

@m1shapanda: MISHA !!! we became mooties this year and you introduced me to code geass and your art <3 you’re so fun to talk to and i really enjoy seeing you on dash! i wish you no achy joints and lots of inspiration for the new year!

@yuan4i: ài !!! you’re genuinely one of the nicest people i’ve ever interacted with and your smaus never fail to give me a smile :) i’m so glad we’re mooties and i hope you have a superb new year

@kkomaism: even though i am def not caught up with orv you did inspire my sick binge of it. though we don’t interact nearly as much as i’d like and we’re not really in the same fandoms anymore i still do love all the moments we do ! hoping you have all the inspiration to write your fics and have a happy new year :)

@solaaresque: REZE!! i think you’re so amazing and i love love love your writing and though it’s been too long since i’ve logged into enstars they remain near and dear to my heart because of you <3 i just love you lots !! please have the best year babes!

@cottonfluffs: AUNI DEAREST! i still remember the ask you first sent when you introduced yourself and ever since then we have been friends! i really really like talking to you and reading your works and though you’ve moved blogs i’m still enamored by your fics every time. have an amazing year babe and hope to talk to you more!

@sea-of-dandelions: your sigskk blog is my source of bsd content since i don’t really go looking for it and i love seeing you in my notifs when i make posts and it makes me feel like ive made a good offering. happy new year and lots of happiness!

@callilouv: i could not believe the notif i got when you followed me and i still can’t like ur very famous to me. i love love love your art and i await any and all art you’ll put out this upcoming year. please take care of yourself and have a happy new year !

@igumie: mai! ik you haven’t been active in a while so i do hope this reaches you. i love all your fics and quite literally all of your blog! you’re ridiculously amazing and i hope the new year treats you well

@so2uv: my ayato truther! sol i love being your moot and reading all your fics on your writing blog! e2l academic rivals ayato rattles around in my brain a lot. i also forgot you were a twst fan but i am more than happy to send you mal thoughts anytime esp with book 7 in the process of coming out ! i believe in your academic weapon powers and hope you continue to do well in this new year! send lots of hugs your way!

#[☾ ] lee stop posting challenge #[ ❣️ ] lee’s lovelies #happy new years to all of you with love from me <3

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orthodoxadventure · 4 months

Note

Hello, I prayed for you and I hope you’re doing well. I know lots of really heavy stuff has been going on in your life. I hope you have a good community you can really on, and friends to keep you company. I had to leave my friend group because they were anti-Catholic, and I am struggling with mental health. I have dreams to do something but I am scared I can’t get in. I feel so behind in life. For years you’re account has encouraged me, I hope you have close Christin friends to encourage and be with you if your ever lonely. I feel so empty most days, and hope I can have a strong Catholic community. I hope anything that is bothering or hurting you, you can overcome. I hope you get closer to God and you can do His will. I hope your dreams can come true. God bless you

Thank you so much for the kind message and your prayers, I really appreciate it. And please know that I will keep you in my prayers also.

I'm sorry that you're struggling to develop friends that are supportive of your faith. One thing that I would suggest, if you haven't already, is reach out to your doctor about your emptiness and your struggles. It may be possible that they would be able to refer you onto support services that can help you in this area. And I would also suggest trying to speak with your Priest about it, he might be able to again direct you towards services and groups that can help with these feelings.

One thing I would really suggest is trying to get involved in Church life as much as you can - ask to volunteer, participate in any social groups (or look to other Catholic Churches in the area that offer social groups and partake in those). If your Church has a coffee hour or something similar, then participate in that when you can. And if it doesn't, see if you can organise with the Priest to start one.

As much as online spaces are no real substitute for something offline, joining in with them can really help bridge the gap. And you might find local Catholics this way also. Find and join Catholic discord servers, see if there's any online reading clubs that you can join, connect with other Catholics on Twitter or in Facebook groups or on Reddit. And so on. Unfortunately, a lot of it is just about continually trying to push yourself out there and persevering.

Look also to events held in your local area in general, even if it's not faith based, it might be a good way of socialising with others and keeping yourself busy. Art workshops, gardening classes, cooking clubs, etc. Are all great ways of participating in the community - and get involved in volunteering as much as you can. Because these are also great opportunities to meet others with similar values, and of course, almsgiving and volunteering to help others is particularly good for the soul during Lent (as well as every other time).

I know it can be really hard, but please do keep trying and persevering. Because I truly do believe that over time, you will eventually develop the community and connections that you need. May God bless you, comfort you, and guide you!

#prayer #prayer req #prayer request

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baekxytocin · 1 year

Text

Military Discharge (M)

Fluff

Mature

Romantic

Smut

Warning: This is a mature, sensitive content. Please read at your own risk.

*Sequel from 100 Days My Prince.

Character:

Baekhyun

Reader

‘Better safe than to be sorry’

1333 words

Today is the day your husband, Byun Baekhyun, was discharged from the military. Waiting for him for around a year and nine months feels longer for you, though he returned home once in a while. You are thankful to be invited to watch the closing ceremony for those who have completed their military service. He may not notice you taking pictures of him since you are covering yourself with face masks for protection. “Better safe than to be sorry” you remember your husband always reminding you of the pandemic standard health procedure.

When all soldiers who completed military service are dismissed, you finally saw him coming out from the military stage. You wave at him and he sees you too. You can see his smile although he covers himself with face masks. You quickly run to him when you saw him spreading his arm open wide. “Gosh, it’s been two weeks. I miss my love so much” he tightens his embrace. “Me too, hubby…. Let’s go home” and he nods in agreement.

“You must be tired. I’ll drive,” you insist although Baekhyun offers to drive home. He just smiles. Baekhyun asks to drop by and buy some takeaway food since he doesn’t want to see you spending time doing house chores. “I want to spend time with you, my love. All I see was a muscular man at the camp, at the social work…. Gosh, I thought I’m going crazy” you only laugh hearing him saying that.

When you reach home, your husband strictly wants you two to clean yourselves first. You agree with him; since the pandemic is still around though the situation gradually getting better. You ask him to have a bath first, while you clean your hands and transfer the food bought earlier to a few plates. You take turns to take bath while Baekhyun takes his time calling his parents about him being safely and healthily discharged from military service. After that, both of you enjoy the food together. He continues chatting even at the kitchen table, telling you about his military life; what was happening every morning at the social work, the important events, and some memories that he cannot forget while he was doing military service. He feels good to be able to take a break from the entertainment world and has a chance to socialise with professional soldiers, and social workers and be friends with them.

You carefully listen to each history your husband tells you. You share his happiness for being able to complete his military service; as you know that alongside Suho, his military service was a bit longer than his fellow EXO members. “Wow…. I wonder what happen the moment I return to the entertainment world. I must be like when I was still a rookie, being awkward and all that” he expresses his concern. “Don’t worry hubby, you’ll be fine. After all, you are called Genius Idol for a reason” you encouraged him. “Thank you, sweetie. Without your love and support, I seriously can’t face this world alone” He sighs.

He helps you with the dishes. However, when you stare at his body from behind, you feel that his body is toner than before though it’s just two weeks since you last see each other. You can’t help yourself but feel sensual around him; as it’s been too long since you’re not been together. “Hubby….” You slowly get closer to him and hug him from the back. He understands you and he too wanted the same. He finishes washing dishes and immediately hugs you back, fiercely kissing you while he slowly leads you to the bedroom.

Today, going to the bedroom seems longer than you think at the present. You need him urgently. “Hubby, I want you now…. I can’t stand anymore….” You plead. “Sweetie, just a few steps to….” But you don’t care, you fully undress him right before the bedroom. He didn’t argue with you, taking off your clothes until you are as bare as him. You hastily kneel down and taste his long, delicious cock. He grunts while moving his body along with your movement.

You wrap his waist with your right leg while gently grinding your lower part against his, and ferociously kissing each other, as you two explore each other bodies, making you both moan erotically. “You’re fully wet now, sweetie…. I need you now; I can’t wait anymore.”

“Ummm…. me too….” you whimper as you keep grinding yourself against his lower part. Hearing your approval, he instantly inserts his already hard member inside you, while still standing. You two grunt louder. “I want to…. Ugh….”

“Cum around my cock, let me feel your hot juice” your husband takes turns sucking your nipples while holding your waist steadily. You reach your first orgasm, as you squeal louder. Amazingly, your husband releases his warm juice right after you cum as well. Yet, you still feel his shaft hard, and you know well that the round has not ended. “Next round” he takes a deep breath, hurriedly carrying you to the bedroom, and locking the door.

He lays down with you, quickly spreading your legs apart, and he enters you once again, in a missionary position. You keep moaning while clawing his back, but he simply doesn’t care as you two are letting go of that longingness together.

“Ahhhh hubby, ahhhh ahhhh ahhhh ummm fuck yeah ahhhh ahhhh ahhhhhhh” you moan loudly while he slams his dick harder and faster into you, making you reach your second orgasm.

“Hubby…. More….” You beg shortly after taking a deep breath. “Of course, my love” he kisses you.

He places you on top of him again, sitting together upright on the bed, facing each other. His member is still inside you, this time he moves slowly, making sweet love with you. “I miss doing this” you slurred. “Don’t worry, I’m here now. We’ll do this frequently” he kisses your forehead. “Ohh…. You are so tight….” He continues while licking and sucking your boobs. “Ohh, hubby…. Why do I feel yours is getting longer and bigger…. Ahhh ahhhh, do you eat something….” you compliment him while blowing a kiss on his temple, then going down to his ear. “Maybe exercise helps, sweetie. But I could do this all night, your moan always making me hard again and again each time. Moan for me again, my love” you whine harder, your pussy is getting wetter hearing naughty words from him.

All of a sudden, his hand reaches out for your clit while still fucking you, constantly rubbing it making you arch your back while calling his name in fortissimo. You shiver, sending another orgasm over you. Your husband spins you around when you are still out not recovering from your last orgasm and currently taking you from behind while back hugging you. His right hand grope one of your breasts while the other hand caresses your stomach, then down all the way to your sensitive clit again.

“Ahhhh…. hubby ummm…. Ahhh ahhhh….ummm …. faster….” You urge him while supporting both of you with your hands. He obeys you and goes as fast as he could. You both scream louder, not caring about whoever hears it anymore. “Love…. ugh…. cumming…. AHHHH” your husband only manages to utter those words when you finally cum together. He quivers and groans loudly while shooting his warm juice deep inside your womb, and you both fall together on the bed, exhausted from the lovely intercourse.

Even with his eyes already half closed, he is still able to find your lips. You two kiss dearly for a moment. “My best gift for Valentine’s Day ever,” you said. “My military discharge or our lovemaking?” he asks while snuggling with you. “Both” you two giggling while patting his chest fluffily. “I love you forever and ever” Baekhyun hugs you to sleep. “I love you too, until the end of my life” and soon after you also sleep peacefully next to your husband.

Thank you for reading.

Uploaded on: 5th February 2023

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Back to Baekxytocin's Reading List

#baekhyun ff #baekhyun fanfic #byun baekhyun #exo baekhyun #baekhyun #exo byun baekhyun #baekhyun smut #exo smut #baekhyun x oc #bbh x reader #baekhyun x y/n #baekhyun x you #baekhyun x reader #valentine's day #valentine #military discharge #baekhyun military discharge #exo #byun bacon

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cirilla-fiona-riannon · 1 year

Text

Kicho's Main Story Chapter 5 Part 2

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. JP SPOILERS under the cut. Expect mistakes.

Kicho: "It's true that everything you need in life is given to you here."

Kicho: "But that's not the same as this. As long as I'm here, I'll give you a payment based on my standards."

Kicho: "That's why, if you want anything, just say it."

Kicho pointed his finger at a shop with a curtain in front of it.

Kicho: "For example, this shop sells cosmetic products."

Kicho: "It's probably nothing compared to what you have in the future, but this one offers high-quality products."

Kicho: "There are also books, figurines, hairpins, and most other things you could find on this street."

Mai: "Oh, nice! It's like the shopping mall of the Sengoku period."

(I don't know what I want, but I'd like to see everything.)

Mai: "Then can I start with that one first?"

Kicho: "Sure."

And so, with bouncy steps, I went to a couple of shops with him, after which we went into an eatery for a break.

Kicho: "Well, have you decided yet?"

Mai: "No."

Kicho: "To think that after all those shops we've been to, you didn't find anything you wanted."

Mai: "Sorry. They're all pretty, but I don't think I need them."

(Nothing really comes to mind when people say I can have anything.)

(Unless there's something I want, I'll just enjoy looking at different things and be happy with it.)

Kicho: "Well, it's okay. Take your time and choose."

Mai: "But the time一"

Kicho: "You're already aware that there's no more work after this, as you're sharing the schedule with me."

Kicho: “In the first place, I’m the one who brought this up. I’m not gonna rush you.”

Mai: “Thank you. Then I’ll take your word for it and think about it for a little longer.”

Kicho: “Yeah.”

Kicho: “More importantly, we’re gonna eat now. You can at least decide what you want to eat.”

Mai: “Okay! Leave that to me!”

As prompted, I looked up at the paper on the wall.

(Wow, the soba noodles look delicious. The grilled skewers look yummy too.)

(No, the stew is not easy to ignore, either. I’m pretty sure it’s well-seasoned.)

Mai: “I’m so torn.”

Kicho: “I just heard your lively reply earlier.”

Mai: “Because look at this shop’s menu!”

Mai: “It's unfair to put all this delicious-looking food together.”

Kicho: “.............”

Mai: “Sorry! I’m really indecisive when it comes to these things.”

Mai: “Alright! I’m just gonna do an eeny, meeny, miny, moe on this.”

Kicho: “Pfft.”

Mai: “Kicho!?”

He suddenly burst out laughing, making me widen my eyes.

Kicho: “The popular food in this restaurant is the skewers you see written there.”

Kicho: “We can order that for today and ask for a different one the next time we're here.”

Mai: “Sure, thanks for the suggestion.”

(Even though it wasn’t the first time I’d seen it, it still surprised me.)

(His smile is bad for my heart.)

We then finished our meal and went back out into the street.

Mai: "It was really good. I can see why that one is popular."

Kicho: "I see. You like it."

Kicho: "Then, let's continue shopping. Tell me if there's anything you want to see."

Mai: "Okay, thank you."

(That being said, what else would I like to see?)

(I feel like I've seen more than enough stuff already.)

Mai: "Ah!"

I spotted something at the end of the street and walked up to it as if I was being drawn in.

Mai: "Hey, look at all these fabrics. The colors are so beautiful."

Mai: "Um, can I go inside the shop?"

Kicho: "Yeah, do whatever you want."

I quickly entered the shop and looked at the fabrics one by one.

(This elegant one has a soft milky white color. And the pattern is rhododendron?)

(This indigo is also pretty. If the obi is a lighter color, I'm sure一)

Slowly, the cloths took on the shape of a kimono, with an obi wrapped around it.

(Yup, nice. A lovely combination.)

Kicho: "You're very passionate about this."

Mai: "Sorry, I got caught up in my own world."

Kicho: "I knew this shop was for you. Your reaction is different from the other shops we visited."

Kicho: "Here, look at this."

Mai: "Wait! Is that a velvet?"

Kicho: "Yeah. This shop also sells fabrics from other countries."

Kicho: "I'm sure they have more. Tell me what you like."

Mai: "What?"

Kicho: "It's my reward for you."

Kicho: "You can make whatever clothes you want out of whatever you choose."

Kicho: "You'll also need a set of needles. If we backtrack down the road, I'm sure we'll find a shop that sells them."

Kicho: "Let's get them later, okay?"

Mai: "Okay!"

(I'm so happy! I can make clothes again.)

Kicho called the shopkeeper, who explained and helped me choose some fabrics, then we bought a set of needles.

On our way home, he looked ahead and glanced at me.

Kicho: "Is there anything else missing?"

Mai: "No, it's more than enough. Thank you very much."

(It's supposed to be a reward for my work, but is it really okay to get this much?)

(He's done a lot for me, so I'll give him a gift in return.)

(Now that it's decided, I need to think about what kind of clothes to make.)

When I was at Azuchi Castle, Hideyoshi got me to help as a seamstress, but because I didn't have much experience sewing kimonos, I had to assist everyone else.

Thinking that I could make it myself, I began to get more and more ideas in my head.

(As I thought, a kimono would be a safe bet. I'll make it in light and calm tones that are typical of him.)

(Oh, but we have a lot of business meetings, so maybe a foreign outfit?)

Kicho: "Mai, come here."

Mai: "Eh? Why一"

Mai: "Waah!?"

Just as his arm went around my shoulder and pulled me close, a rushing person walked past right next to me.

(I didn't notice him at all.)

Mai: "Sorry, thanks."

Kicho: "Good grief, it's okay to get carried away, but keep your eyes on the road."

(Oh…)

As if to criticize my actions, Kicho tightened his arms around me, and I could feel the strength and warmth of his arms, making my heart beat faster.

Kicho: "If you fall and injure your hand, you won't be able to make clothes."

Mai: "You're right. I'll be careful."

Mai: "Sorry."

(I've been out of sorts ever since I saw the fabrics. I really have to be careful.)

I moved away from him, reflecting on the situation, when...

Motonari: "Heh, looks like you guys are getting along pretty well."

Mai: "Motonari!"

Kicho: "Why are you here?"

Motonari: "I have some business with you, but am I interrupting?"

Motonari: "I didn't expect to see you guys so close to each other in broad daylight."

Motonari: "I heard that you keep her around to monitor her, but I guess this is your aim."

Kicho: "I wouldn't keep a suspicious person in the trading post for such stupid reasons."

Motonari: "Hey, hey, don't answer so seriously. I was just joking."

Motonari: "You don't have to take this countryside girl seriously. With that face, you can get any woman you want."

(Hm? Countryside?)

(So he didn't tell him I came from the future.)

Kicho only shook his head without losing his cool expression.

Kicho: "I don't need it. I have no interest in love."

Kicho: "What happened earlier was only necessary to prevent an accident."

Mai: "That's right. He just saved me!"

Motonari: "Heh."

Motonari smirked and glanced at me, his red eyes teasing me.

Motonari: "You're not convincing anyone with that face."

Mai: "What face?"

Kicho: "Don't worry about it, Mai. He just wants to get some satisfaction out of you."

Mai: "What look is he saying?"

I put my hands on my cheeks and found them faintly hot.

(Am I blushing?)

Kicho: "More importantly, Motonari, if you need me, let's talk at the trading post."

Kicho: "It's probably about that thing. Also, I have something to tell you."

Motonari: "Yeah."

Mai: "Um, what's this all about?"

Motonari: "Oi, oi, are you ignoring my advice again? I told you it's better not to step in too much."

Motonari: "The fact that you're watching him so intently that it looks like you're his lover from the outside means you're not worth trusting."

(-----!)

Motonari: "If you don't want to wear a collar, you'd better behave yourself."

Kicho: "Mai, I'll have those items delivered later. Stay in your room when we return to the trading post."

Mai: "Understood."

With Motonari's words stuck in my heart, the three of us walked down the road, the setting sun shimmering in the distance.

(Kicho still doesn't trust me.)

(I knew that, but it still hurts when it's put into words.)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Sasuke: "You're really here."

Sasuke: "I finally found you. Mai."

The day after Kicho and I went into town一

Mai: "I'm finally done checking and organizing these documents!"

After stretching, I put together the bundle of papers.

(I didn't take a break, so I finished early. I think it's already past lunchtime.)

(I don't have anything to do after this, so maybe I can help someone else with something.)

(Oh, but first一)

I got up from the chair and picked up the perfume I wear every day.

(I don't know what's gonna happen, but I've got to look presentable, just in case.)

As I left the room and went down the hallway, I saw, as expected, a guard standing near the entrance.

(Someone's here.)

(As expected. He's so shrewd.)

------------Flashback------------

Kicho: "Mai. I'm going out with Motonari today. You stay here, okay?"

Mai: "Are you sure you don't want me to accompany you?"

Kicho: "Yeah, my men are there. You can freely move around here, but don't go outside."

Kicho: "I'll be back by nightfall."

---------Flashback Ends---------

(Going out with Motonari, huh? They are probably just going to resume their talk yesterday.)

(He doesn't want anyone to hear it, but that's exactly what I want to know.)

(Also, it's not like I can inform someone even if I know.)

Mai: "Alright, time to help with some cleaning."

I was about to turn back down the hallway to get a rag when一

Male voice: "Excuse me, I have a delivery for you."

(It looks like someone's here.)

(I feel like I know this voice.)

Kicho's subordinate opened the door, and the owner of the voice entered, carrying a large package.

Sasuke: "Hi. Sarutobi delivery at your service."

Sasuke: "These are the items you ordered yesterday, miss."

(Sasuke!?)

Mai: "Long time no see! I almost called your name there."

Sasuke: "Yeah, thank God you kept your mouth shut."

Sasuke: "If they found out that you and I knew each other, we wouldn't be able to talk like this."

Mai: "Yes. It's really nice to talk to you."

Mai: "I think the last time we saw each other was when we had tea at Azuchi. What have you been up to since then?"

Sasuke: "My employer told me to return."

Sasuke: "It would probably distract you, so I didn't tell you."

Sasuke: "I told you about Kenshin Uesugi, remember? I'm a ninja under him."

(This means that Sasuke and I are enemies in the eyes of others.)

(That's why he didn't tell me the details.)

Sasuke: "But when I returned to the castle, I found that the turbulent world was in serious trouble again, so this time, I came undercover to the border instead of Azuchi."

Mai: "I see. Then we're the same."

Sasuke: "Are you here as a spy too?"

Mai: "Yeah. Actually..."

When I briefly told him how I came here and my current situation, Sasuke was surprised but kept his usual expression.

Sasuke: "So that's what happened. That must've been tough."

Sasuke: "So, one of the people you were with in town yesterday is Kicho?"

Mai: "The one with the black hair is Kicho. Wait, you saw us yesterday?"

Sasuke: "Yeah, I saw you guys are pretty close."

Mai: "What? Oh!"

(Maybe he saw us from the time when Kicho hugged me?)

I felt my cheeks burning as Sasuke tilted his head at me.

Sasuke: "How do you feel about him?"

Mai: "Well..."

Mai: "I guess he's someone I don't want to become my enemy."

Mai: "I went undercover because I thought he was a bad guy, so I didn't really understand him during our time together."

Mai: "Of course, I'm a pacifist. That's why it's been difficult."

Sasuke: "I think I kind of know the feeling."

Sasuke: "People usually don't consider their enemies human beings."

Mai: "Yes."

Mai: "Anyway, I don't have any special feelings for him."

Sasuke: "Really?"

Mai: "Huh?"

Sasuke: "Sorry, I'm not trying to interfere with your feelings, but I just thought that if something were to happen, you, the spy, would suffer."

Sasuke: "And as your friend, I can't overlook that."

Mai: "Sasuke..."

The seriousness of his eyes showed that he wasn't lying.

(He's saying this because he's worried about me. He's really a good friend, but一)

Mai: “Don’t worry. No matter what happens, I won’t bend my beliefs.”

Mai: “I know it’s not easy to live in this turbulent world, and all lives are important.”

Mai: “That’s why I want to make a path where even one of those lives can be saved by my justice.”

Sasuke: “I see. That’s a relief.”

Sasuke: “Then, as your friend, I’ll help you.”

Mai: “Are you sure? That'll help a lot.”

Mai: “Oh, but I can’t run away from here.”

Sasuke: “No problem. You’re here with Mitsuhide, right?”

Mai: “Yes, I haven’t seen him for a while, so I don’t know if he’s still in Sakai.”

Sasuke: “Don’t worry, I’ll look for him. I stayed in Azuchi for a while, so I know his face.”

Sasuke: “If I can contact him safely, I’ll report to him for you.”

Mai: “Eh? Is that okay? You’re Kenshin’s一”

Sasuke: “Yeah. I’m a Nokizaru ninja, but remember, I'm also your friend and a pacifist."

Mai: “Okay. Then I’ll share the information with you.”

(His being here probably means that Kenshin and Shingen are also wary of Kicho.)

(Also, I don’t think getting this information around will affect the Oda army.)

While sorting everything in my head, I told Sasuke that Motonari Mouri was still alive, the number of weapons, and his goal of continuing the turbulent world.

Sasuke: "Continuing the turbulent world?"

Mai: "Keep this a secret, but Kicho also experienced time slipping like us."

Sasuke: "There's someone other than us!?"

Mai: "He was originally from this period, but apparently, he saw the future through a wormhole and came back."

Sasuke: "I see. So you mean to say that he decided to continue living here even after seeing the unification of Japan."

Sasuke: "What the hell happened to him? Or maybe he got affected by the distortions."

Mai: "Distortion?"

Sasuke: " I believe the Kicho in history was a woman."

Sasuke: "She was the daughter of Dosan Saito, the Lord of Mino, and was also known as Princess Nohime."

Mai: "So, this Kicho who is here now is..."

Sasuke: "I don't know all the details, but I guess he was affected by the distortion of history."

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