#another one of those scenes which run through my head which will never make it to a story | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nanaminsmoon · 10 months

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𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐫!𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐱 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: this has just been sat in the vaults for a month and i'm just in eren brainrot mode rn so here she is😁 also, i just imagined rapper!eren being like central cee. so just imagine him wearing a nike tech in every interaction lol.

cw: fingering, pnv, infidelity, mentions of breeding, finger sucking, eren calls reader; 'ma', 'my girl', 'baby', and i don't cosign homewrecking be respectful y'all😭

cw: 4590...

rapper!eren who tells you it was never meant to go this far, because it truly wasn't. it all started because you had similar music taste, so you understood the influence of his favourite artists (which happened to be your favourite artists) on his music.

you first met rapper! eren when you bumped into one another at the record store. he was a popular up and coming artist, so you somewhat recognised him but you couldn't pinpoint where from. you had been in the same section of the shop and he liked your outfit, thought you had great taste and, when you turned around, he saw that you were bad. so he sparked up a conversation with you. he was used to people pretending they didn’t know who he was just to get into his inner circle but, upon further conversation, he could tell that you really barely had any idea who he was. and, initially, that was a punch to his ego (because damn his music isn’t reaching baddies like that??), but he just decided it was for the best.

rapper!eren who called you after you gave him your number, which you found quite interesting because you barely knew each other and he was calling you before even texting you?? but you answered, and conversations about anything and everything meant that when you looked up from the doodle you had been focused on while talking to him, the small clock hand had moved forwards three numbers. saying you were ‘surprised’ by his depth makes it seem as though you expected him to be an idiot, but you were just taken aback by the way that every other word he said to you was an echo of the thoughts you had never gotten the chance to shout out into the world.

rapper!eren whose words had your cheeks heating up as they begun to ache from smiling at his flirtatious tone. honeyed syllables flowed into your ears, only just to run back out, slowly caressing your skin on its way down to the space between your legs. though not necessarily obscene, rapper!eren‘s words dirtied the scenes running in your mind, painting a packed gallery of lude images you wanted him to paint all over your body.

“did you just giggle?”, he chuckled over the phone, and you shook your head furiously as if he could see you.

“what? no!”, you sat up on your bed, the defence on your features evident to both you and the walls surrounding you. he wasn’t wrong, you did giggle. but you wouldn’t let him hear that admission. it felt slightly ridiculous, because you had only known him for a few weeks, but whenever you saw the name ’eren<;3’ appear on your phone, the muscle between your ribs would begin a high intensity workout. the effects manifesting themselves in the endorphins flying through your body, and the way he just made you feel…giddy.

calls started off as being once every few days. then it was once a day. then his name was painting your phone screen twice a day. then it became a few times a day; he would call you when he woke up, and you would try your best to not lose it over his morning voice, especially when he said shit like:

”i wish i could see you right now, i feel like you look cute in the morning. nah? i don’t believe that”.

you would call him on your commute, then you’d eat dinner together over facetime. then, once the sun set, every step in your night-time routine would be interrupted by rapper!eren’s inquisitons about literally everything: ”what’s that for?”, ”what does that do?”, ”your skin is perfect you don’t need all that.” and, soon, the texts began sprinkling themselves in between those calls; ’good morning’ texts, ’how’s your day goin?’ texts, ’show me your fit’ texts, ’facetime?’ texts, and ’you got time to call?’ texts.

then two, or so, months passed and you came to find out why the beginning of your relationship was mainly just calls: so it couldn’t be traced back to him. though he had your contact saved, he could always just delete your call logs, and you would have no way of proving that you actually spoke. this revelation struck you shortly after a tiktok came up on your foryoupage showing someone talking about rapper!eren and his rumoured girlfriend. said ‘rumoured’ girlfriend who really just looked like his actual girlfriend with the way his arm was slung around her shoulder, her hand reaching up to hold his, as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek. as soon as rapper!eren noticed the cameras, he peeled himself off of her and put his hands in his joggers. and, as pissed as you were, you could admit that the girl was cute; standing shorter than him, with short brown hair.

rapper!eren whose eyebrows met to screw in frustration at his calls and texts going unanswered. a part of him grew unreasonably pissed off when he kept calling you and kept getting sent to voicemail. at first, he assumed you were just busy so he just postponed his call because he knew what time you usually ate dinner, meaning he knew when you usually called him. but to make sure you weren’t still busy, he texted you and again, it was just ‘read’.

“what the fuck?”, he whispered at his phone screen as he sat in the back of the black suv. no matter what he tried, rapper!eren got no response and he didn’t know why that cut him so deep. he was inured to female attention so your replacement was nothing more than a dm away. but…he didn’t want to replace you. talking to you had become so pivotal to his day-to-day routine and he didn’t like that being taken away from him without him having a say. but after three days of dodging his calls, you finally texted him.

…: you have a gf?

rapper!eren: thats what this shit was about y/n?

…: this shit?? nigga you have a girlfriend tf you mean this shit??

rapper!eren: its more complicated than that

…: is it???

…: she’s either your gf or she isn’t how’s that complicated?

rapper!eren: dw abt it

rapper!eren: come to my studio tonite. got smth i wanna run by you

…: huh??

read.

rapper!eren who finally responded a few hours after that conversation. but, instead of the explanation you were looking for, you got sent an address and a message telling you that someone was on their way to come pick you up. you quickly texted rapper!eren your address, then you had just half an hour to get ready. had this been a week ago, you would’ve done a bit more; matching underwear and all. but instead, you just decided to keep it cute but simple—both your outfit, and your makeup.

you got a text telling you to make your way outside and when you did, you were met with a black suv with tinted windows. as weird as it looked, the driver asking for your name reassured you and you got in. the drive to the address was silent. it was just you and the driver in there, and he didn’t even spare you a glance once you got in the car, so you were just left with your thoughts. and they made it a very gruelling 30 minute journey. once you arrived at the building, the driver took you to the door, where you were met with rapper!eren‘s manager. that’s when you found out that the building was where rapper!eren‘s studio was.

rapper!eren who sat alone behind a translucent door, looking down at his phone until his manager opened the door. you hadn’t seen him in person since the first time you met and, knowing what you now knew, your heart was at the pit of your stomach. so your first few moments there were spent stood, abashedly, at the door. an unreadable smirk braced his face at your appearance, before he made his way to hug you. being polite, you hugged him back. and those nasty wasps in your stomach were mixing with butterflies. you hated it to say it, but you were attracted to rapper!eren and the strong smell of his aftershave was enough to drive the butterflies in your stomach to migrate to the space between your legs. but, at some point, their wings would be clipped by the fact that the man had a girlfriend.

rapper!eren who noticed you looking a little skittish, and moved to stroke your arm to calm you down but you just looked at him blankly so he moved away. the weird feeling in your stomach had yet to go away, and it only grew once you looked around and saw that the only lights on were red LED lights, and a few candles placed on random tables.

“you drink?”, rapper! eren picked up a bottle of expensive looking red wine and two big wine glasses.

“not with men who have girlfriends, no.”, you quipped, taking your hoodie off, and putting it on the sofa.

rapper! eren who really did call you there to ask you about something because he had made a new song, and he wanted to see how you liked it. no one else knew what his vision was but, having similar music taste, he knew you would. but the second your hoodie came off, his intentions wavered. at that very moment, he could feel the very thing he had been trying to bury for the past few days, making his dick twitch in his joggers. making it infinitely harder to ignore—if he even wanted to do that anymore.

rapper! eren whose eyes glimmered at the sight of you thoroughly enjoying his song, even giving him real feedback that he knew would make the song better. you were sat by his laptop and the way your knees would touch whenever you moved to the beat did not go neglected. despite your prior apprehensions, he had poured you both some red wine, and you were slowly making your way through your glasses. mid-conversation, he caught you staring at his chains. especially the pendant with his name on it; bussed down and twinkling even under the minimal lighting.

“you like ‘em?”, he looked down at his chest, smirking, and you nodded at him.

“are they heavy?”, you giggled. that chain was thick but the pendant on it looked like it had some weight on it too.

rapper! eren‘s answer wasn’t verbal, instead he just reached behind his neck and took it off, holding it toward you,

“try it on”, he said, quietly and you shook your head. the man had a girlfriend why was he drinking with you, and asking you to put his chain on??

“nah, bro, that’s too far. you’ve got a gir—”, you began, and rapper! eren rolled his eyes as he got up from his chair,

“first off, she’s not here. second, don’t call me ‘bro’. that’s what my boys call me.”, he stood, looking down at you, obviously waiting for you to stand up. your guilt only grew, to subside again, as you got up. and then he stepped closer. you were sat pretty close before, but now the tips of your shoes were meeting. then he leaned forward and reached behind you to put his chain on you. once it hung around your neck, you got the answer to your question; it was heavy.

lost in observation, you hadn’t even realised the way rapper! eren‘s hands hadn’t left your body, they had just changed locations. they moved from the back of your neck, to your cheeks where he held you to face him. fuck. this man was fine. yes, you felt bad but she was purring. you didn’t know his girl so what loyalties did you have to her? and plus, who are you to judge other people’s relationships? maybe she’s okay with him cheating…

you knew damn well you were just being selfish, but that didn’t stop you from moaning into rapper! eren‘s mouth once his lips collided with yours. the way the baby, blue shimmer of the diamonds bounced off the gloss on your lips made them impossible to ignore. they were just asking for rapper! eren to mess them up, and replace the sheen with the one provided by his saliva. this wasn’t the first time he had cheated on his girlfriend; he was surrounded by beautiful women who wanted him every single day, and he had the self control of a dog who hadn’t been fed in weeks. but this time felt like more than just kissing, rapper! eren didn’t want anyone else to have you. and he hadn’t realised that until he saw you with his name shining around your neck.

the slow, fervent kiss grew haste when rapper! eren‘s hands started moving to grip anything he could through your dress. soon, you were straddling him on the black leather sofa, slowly grinding on him as he pushed you down onto the tent forming in his grey nike tech. naturally, your dress began to hike up your body, and rapper! eren aided its trek by pulling it up so the end of the dress was lightly pecking the top of your black lace thong. it was at this point that rapper! eren knew that there was no going back for him; if he didn’t fuck you now, he would be dreaming about it until he did.

his lips did not leave you once—moving from your own to your cheeks, jaw, neck, chest. his hand laid on your clothed tit, the other being pulled out from under your dress, and quickly covered by his swollen pink lips. the way his tongue swirled around your nipple had you throwing your head back, your hips not stopping once. veins that once transported blood became the primary vehicle for the pleasure he was providing you, you hadn’t even noticed his hand moving to the space between your legs. slipping your thong aside, he began rubbing circles on your clit.

“’ren, p-please”, you whined, breathlessly. thoughts weren’t connecting properly anymore, so you didn’t even know what you were pleading for. you just felt the need to say something.

“w-wait, please”, you breathed out, and he hummed against whatever skin he was kissing at that point, you really didn’t know anymore. your entire body was on fire, so it all just felt like one big sensation.

“i am waiting, ma”, rapper! eren cooed, “there’s a lot more i wanna be doing right now.”, he nipped your other breast that he had alternated to at some point, and you knew he would leave a mark. and that’s exactly what he wanted.

a few minutes passed before rapper! eren inserted his middle and ring finger inside you. shivers ran a marathon all over your body as his bussed down star ring grazed your thigh, while he pumped his tattooed digits in and out of you. all the while, rapper! eren‘s eyes never left your face; the glistering jades illuminated every feature on you—your moistened pert nipples, your bleary gaze, and your parted lips. your drool mixing with his saliva still on them.

it didn’t take long for you to cum all over his fingers, trembling and cantillating his name into the space around the both of you. no part of your body could handle that wave once it washed over you, the tide pulling your forehead onto his chest, that was heaving almost as deeply as yours was. you hadn’t done much, but rapper! eren was so turned on by the fact that he was making you feel good. but even knowing that, his fingers didn’t relent.

once you were able to lift your heavy eyelids, and open your eyes, you saw a space grey patch on rapper! eren ‘s light grey tech, and that aroused a small panic in your stomach.

“’ren, s-stop”, you began, and as soon as that word left your mouth, his fingers stilled. a billion thoughts raced through his mind; maybe you’d changed your mind, maybe it didn’t feel good anymore. but when he found out that it was just because you didn’t want to get his tech wet, he chortled at how cute you were, and stroked your teary cheek with the hand that wasn’t pumping in and out of you again.

“you think i care if people know how wet my girl gets when she’s with me?”, he spoke onto the skin on your neck. fuck. you hated how good it felt to be called that, but you couldn’t stop the way you clenched around his fingers at that nickname. the same nickname that belonged to another woman.

“you like that? me calling you ‘my girl’?”, rapper! eren teased, lifting your chin when you tried to evade eye contact, “you want me to fuck you with my chain ‘round your neck? make you mine for real?”, his hand was wrapped around the top of your neck to hold your chin in place, and you just nodded furiously. fighting your need for him was futile, so you would give in now and regret this later.

confirmation received, rapper! eren picked you up and placed you on the sofa on your back, lips still glued on your neck. it wasn’t until he paused momentarily to take off his hoodie and shirt that you realised where things were going and panic returned. you placed your manicured fingers flat on his chest, providing a bit of resistance as your head shook slightly. but you didn’t say anything, simply hoping the look in your eyes would communicate everything your mouth couldn’t.

“your girlfriend”, you spoke, voice barely above a whisper. and rapper! eren moved closer to your face, meeting your lips. then he spoke against them,

“tell me you don’t want this, and i’ll stop”, he told you sincerely and you stammered, words failing you once again. or, really, you failing yourself because there were no words you could string together to hide the way you wanted needed this man to fuck you until you started crying. you’d heard the stories, you’d heard the song lyrics, and there was no smoke without fire. so you wrapped yourself up in a fire blanket and walked straight into the blazing heat. you shook your head at him, and reached for the bulge poking you in your stomach. and he smiled down at you before kissing you again and pulling back to get condoms from a drawer next to the sofa.

rapper!eren whose mind could barely grasp the concept of anything that wasn’t how tight you would feel around him. at this point in time, he didn’t know where he was anymore, nor did he care. the faint sounds of people talking in the hallways outside his studio were hushed static compared to the soft whines escaping your lips. you were desperate; this man had thrown a lasso around you, pulled you into his orbit, and then was just tangling you in front of himself. almost as if he was teasing himself—placing you in front of his face, legs wide open, yet not doing anything to close the faucet responsible for his leaking, throbbing, pink tip. but only rapper!eren knew that the reason for his eyes sprinting across your body, unbothered by the finish line, was because he didn’t know where to start with you. he had stripped you of your dress; he didn’t plan on doing so originally, but he needed to see your tits bounce as he fucked you so it had to come off. but now that you were whining underneath him—spit sliding down the corners of your mouth, making its way down onto the sides of your neck as you sucked on his tatted fingers, eyes locked with his own, he didn’t know what to do with you. your eyes had rendered him paralysed; yes, he may have been on top of you, but you were in control. He was on his knees for you, literally! he was on his knees on the sofa, with his legs caging one of your own.

rapper!eren who, as mesmerised as he was, remembered that he couldn’t just gawk at you forever so he positioned himself at your entrance. looking at you before he put it in, he saw a smirk painted on your face,

“nervous?”, you teased, and he scoffed at you. all it took was for his tip to softly poke your entrance, for you to cry out his name. if he was in his right mind, he might’ve given you shit for how quickly you were eating your own words. but all he could think about was how he hadn’t even done anything and you were already falling apart underneath him.

“fuck.”, he breathed out as he looked at his dick, still visible between your legs.

rapper!eren was a very sought after man, women wanting him did not surprise him. but you moaned his name like you needed him. like you were flirting with the brink of insanity every single second his dick wasn’t deep in your guts. and, rapper!eren may have been a very unloyal man, but he was very possessive. and there was nothing he hated more than people fucking with what’s his. so he would rip you from the hands of insanity, and fuck you until the afterglow was so prominent that everyone would know to go nowhere near you.

“just wait for me, baby, yeah? I’m right here”.

rapper!eren who lets out a deep sigh as soon as he starts pushing himself inside you, his eyeballs exploring the back of their sockets when he felt how tight you were. he had been intent on watching you take him in, inch by inch (all 8 of them), as he sheathed himself into you. but how wet you were was making him delirious. it felt like you were tightening around him with every half an inch that you took of him. probably because you were. everything was hitting you all at once, and your body was just reacting without even consolting you. it was how sexy he was, the sound of his heavy breathing, low moans hitting your ear. bitch it felt like you were doing the damn tiktok kegel exercises.

from what you had barely seen earlier through your drenched eyelashes, you knew that there would be a lot of rapper!eren to take in. but it seemed like the man was just never ending. when you thought he was fully inside you, he would push some more and you would feel yourself stretch around him. it wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, just a lot to get used to. so your arms were reaching across his back, scratching slightly as he bottomed out inside of you.

deep sighs and whiny protests soon became blissful incantations of pleasure leaving your lips to hit rapper!eren‘s bare shoulder. his tatted fingers were digging into the fat surrounding your hips, waist, anything he could reach. not too long after you two began fucking, his manager had opened the door to ask if he was ready to go. but, when he opened the door to the soundproof studio and saw you two fucking on the sofa, he figured rapper!eren had some loose ends to tie up before he left to go to his hotel. neither of you had noticed because you were too busy focusing on the sweet words leaving this man’s mouth, as well as his chains hitting your skin. no soul would’ve guessed that this man’s pen game was crazy with the fucked out nonsense he was spewing on whatever skin he was kissing at the time.

”imma fuck you so good nobody’s gonna be good enough f’r you. hm? you want that? fuck, if I wasn’t so stupid(?) i’d fuck a baby in you. i promise you. this pussy’s so fucking tight, i don’t even care anymore. i got money, i could take care of a kid. you wan’ it? you wan’ me to just get you pregnant? let everyone call you my baby mama? you’re a slut you know that, yeah? just wan’ my nut leaking outta you? fuck, y/n, you’re gonna get me in trouble.”

rapper!eren whose fingers teased your clit, slow and gentle as if he wasn’t pounding into you with reckless abandon on some small sofa in his studio. but the few seconds that those two fingers sped up on your little bud of nerves were enough to have you drenching his lower abdomen, and fingers. too lost in the moment, he had forgotten to taste you earlier, so he put his fingers in his mouth and he rolled his tongue around them. the taste of you in his mouth dropped his eyelids, his hips moving faster and faster as your arousal coated his tastebuds.

rapper!eren who couldn’t remember the last time he was that turned on by anyone. his hips were moving on their own, rushing to get that release. he wanted to hold it, because he wanted to give you round after round after round and he wanted you to cum, at least, one more time before he did so himself. if it were up to him, he would pick you up and take you into the booth and fuck you in there so he could get some adlibs for his next song. but he just couldn’t do it.

“i’ll—fuck—i’ll make it up to you. i swe—shit”, he quickly pulled out of you, and scrambled to take his condom off. his hand managed one stroke on his dick before his nut spurted all over your chest, specks finding themselves on your chin. before the last droplets of his release dripped onto your stomach.

once he finished, rapper!eren pulled back and, as his eyes regained focus, he was just mesmerised by you. eyes barely opening, bodily fluids all over you, but his chain remained proud at the centre of your chest. he had to take his phone out and take a few pictures of you just like that. spurts of his cum acted as an adhesive, sticking his name onto your heart. yeah, he wasn’t letting you go now. he didn’t know how to feel about the cum splattered on his chain, but he just settled on getting a new one and just letting you keep that one. how he would explain that to his girlfriend, he had no fucking clue but he would figure something out…

after he took you to a hotel suite and made up for nutting quicker than he had hoped…by fucking you senseless:))

#nanaminsmooninc #aot x black reader #aot x black y/n #eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren smut #rapper!eren #aot eren

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starcrossedreaders · 1 year

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HI! This is my very first time asking for a request, am so nervous! I was wondering if you could write a short story with Re4r Leon were he and his fem! reader are both married and have meet each other in raccoon city and are separated from Ashley and run into Ada in the room were you solve that tile puzzle in the game and she flirts with Leon and says the line “I might give you that greeting you were looking for. And it makes the reader feel like she is not good enough for Leon and remembering the shared kiss both him and Ada had back at raccoon city. You can add more too it if you would like.

This is so cute, nothing beats a jealous lover to comfort. Hopefully, you love reading this as much as I loved writing it, Enjoy!

Author's Note: This is so cute, nothing beats a jealous lover to comfort. Hopefully, you love reading this as much as I loved writing it, I could not find this scene for the life of me so hopefully you will Enjoy it!

Warnings: jealous reader, mentions of death, guns, injuries, some fighting, little bit of angst

"Ashley wait!" Your hand reached out for the girl before a door slammed down causing the ground to shake.

"Fuck," Your hand slaps down to your side as you turn around to look at your partner, Leon.

"It's okay, we'll find a way to get to her." He unholsters his gun as he roams around the room to find a way out.

You and Leon had been attached at the hips since the police academy. Have being the first ones in the room you two naturally sat next to each other striking up a conversation. The moment Leon had stuck his hand out to greet you the connection was instant. From there on you guys did everything together, from hand-to-hand combat training to study partners you guys naturally gravitated towards each other. Like the sun and moon, Bonnie and Clyde, or Adam and Eve. So when it came time to choose a department to work at naturally you both went for Raccoon Police Department. This is when your troubles began, and your relationship furthered. After almost losing you Leon knew he had to make you his. Life is too short to not take risks. His messy confession and rosy cheeks had quickly led you guys into your 5th year of dating.

Government training was punishing and pushed you guys to the brink of extinction. That never stopped you guys from going onward, always moving, never stopping to enjoy the beauties of life. Which is what led you guys here. Trying to save the president's daughter was no easy task, not when bio-weapons and the past came to haunt you guys.

"Over here!" Leon called out to you from afar. His voice led you through a small tunnel into a bigger room than the last. In the middle of the room stood a podium with various tiles. Further past that was a door with a huge empty piece where you assumed the tiles went.

"Another fucking puzzle seriously?" Walking towards the podium you gathered the tiles and walked to the door.

"I'm tired of this weird village's antics, these puzzles are annoying." Leon only snorted in agreement as he stood at your side focusing on the task at hand.

"That one goes there," His gloved hand pointed to space in the puzzle.

Lifting the rather heavy tile it clicked into place causing the door to groan a bit.

"That's something I guess," You guys continued on with the puzzle before you heard a loud clank above you.

Whipping your head up to the noise you examined the ceiling.

"Did you hear that?"

"I'll go check it out." Leon pulls out his gun to look around the room while you continue the puzzle.

A few moments later you heard a few muffled words and a groan before the clicking of heels filled the room.

Those god-forsaken heels. The heels belonged to someone who has been the point of many arguments between you and Leon. The heels were filled by a beautiful federal agent who had ruined your self-esteem. How could she be so beautiful at a time like this? You looked like you have been through hell and back, dried blood coated your hands as your tank top was ripped. When the one and only Ada Wong looked like a model.

Turning around you watched as your own husband walked into the room with his hands up on either side of his head and Ada right behind him with a gun pointed at his head.

"Ada what a pleasant surprise," You turned back around to put another tile in the slot. The door shook the ground as dust fell around you.

"And who's this Leon?"

"I don't do greetings Ada," You sang your words as you placed another tile in.

This door started to move up a little bit. The crack was big enough to fit your hand through.

"Well, I might give you the greeting you were looking for," Ada's voice dripped with sexual tension as she utters those words towards your OWN husband.

Leon was getting impatient, the gun pointed at his head made him antsy. His hand moved slightly before he grabbed her wrist to make her drop the gun. Ada's foot flew through the air aiming for Leon's neck before he twisted and grabbed it just in time. This fight went on like this for a few heartbeats before Leon pulled his knife out on her.

Pressing it against her neck his voice grew deeper as he spoke, "A bit of advice, use knifes next time, it's better for close encounters,"

Ada could only smile as he slowly pulled the knife away strapping it back in its rightful place.

"I'm surprised, you're better than the rookie I last saw," She paced the room as she spoke to Leon.

"Yea, well, people change Ada,"

"Do they now?"

Your back faced the pair as you tried to focus on the puzzle at hand, the last few pieces were tripping you up, or maybe it was the small voice eating away at you. 'He still loves Ada.' 'You're just a filler for what he can't have.' 'You are the second choice, don't think otherwise.' Sighing heavily you tried to not focus on the past, but the present. You have a daughter to save, you can't be wallowing in your own self-pity.

"Well, why don't we test that out," The clicking of her heels stopped as she stood in front of Leon.

All your mind could do was race and think back to the events of Raccoon City. That horrid train ride was the worst ride you have ever been on. Watching Ada press her lips onto Leon's made you want to scream but watching Leon kiss her back made you want to cry. Nothing was as painful as that. Trying to steady your breathing you thought back to the kiss that you and Leon shared at the altar. That is the kiss that matters the most. Not the lousy kiss that he and Ada shared on the train. It had to, you are his wife for crying out loud, not some sleazy federal agent that teases men and almost gets them killed whenever she's around.

"Can you shut up Ada, I'm trying to figure this damn puzzle out, not listen to you ramble nonsense," She could only click her tongue.

"You should really teach your partner some manners Leon," He could snort out a small laugh.

Whipping your body around you walked over to the pair, "No Ada, I think you should really learn how to not be a liability. Every time you show up on these missions you almost get Leon killed. So why don't you go back to your little agency and stick your nose in someone else's mission. AND MIND YOUR OWN GOD DAMN BUSINESS!"

You didn't really need to yell during the last part but there's something about her stupid beautiful face that made you even more upset.

Turning around you placed the last tile in place. The door groaned as the ground shook. A few heartbeats later the door was fully open. You pulled your gun out with your flashlight underneath as you walked toward the dark and dusty room ahead.

"Y/N Wait," Leon called out for you as he jogged to catch up to you. Ada only shook her head as she shot her grappling hook up into the ceiling. The line zipped her up till she was gone.

Twisting your body from either side to side checking for anything that could harm you guys. You were very content with finishing this mission in silence. Leon on the other head was dead set and determined on figuring out what was wrong.

"Y/N stop, please," His hand landed on your elbow in hopes to stop you. Yanking it out of his grasp you tried to move forward once again.

Leon soon stopped right in front of you and grabbed your shoulders. "Y/N talk to me... what's wrong,"

Leon was always so attentive, "What was that back there?" His soft voice filled the dark room. Your arms slacked to either side of your body as your head dropped.

Small sniffles filled the room as your feelings hit you dead on. Leon's eyebrows furrowed as he heard your sniffles. "Hey, talk to me," His right hand reached up to cup your face and swipe your tears away.

You felt awful right now, you guys were on a mission to save the president's daughter, you should not be involving your own personal matters in your work life. Your shoulders moved up and down as a shiver ran down your body. Ada is not the woman he wants and loves but for some reason, it just doesn't feel that way when you see them together. The kiss during Raccoon City haunts you from the late hours of the night to the early hours of the morning. The rubber band he got you for your one-year anniversary sat heavily on your ring finger.

"I-it's just ugh- y'know what, forget it. We have more important matters at hand,"

"No. We're going to talk about it now, I can't help if you don't tell me what's wrong," His voice was stern as his grip tighten slightly.

"Fine! Everything about Ada makes my gut turn. I feel as if I'm not enough for you. Ada has everything I don't. I know we're married and that should mean something but- The kiss- it's just..." You ran out of breath as you revealed your hidden feelings to your husband.

Leon's grip lightened as he slowly dragged his hands down your arms to your wrists.

"Baby... You know she means nothing to me You are the one I want. You have everything she doesn't love. I married you because you have been there through everything, thick and thin. There is nothing and I mean nothing anyone can do or say that would tear me away from you. We're going to build the brightest future together, two kids, a white picket fence, maybe even a dog," Your slight laugh made Leon smile, a rare occurrence these's days, too bad you could barely see it.

Leon leaned his forehead against yours. "I love you, forever and always okay?" Leon pressed a chaste kiss against your chapped lips.

Leon could barely hear you as you whispered back to him, "Forever and always."

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ghostofthemost141 · 6 months

Text

Mistletoe

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

Themes: Fluff, Some Suggestive Themes so !18+!

Third POV

Word Count: 1,966

About: It's the official Christmas party on base and Gaz and Soap are trying to push you under the mistletoe with your obvious crush.

Notes: Sorry if my fics have been coming out slow. With holiday season coming up I have been working A LOT but since it is the holiday season, I figured I'd do a holiday themed one with Ghost. Name for you here is Sunny. Enjoy!

“Do it.” The two accented men whispered into your ear.

You shook your head in response, feeling your heart start to race in response. You knew the two of them were fueled by alcohol but it was mostly their Brit selves being the sneaky bastards that they are.

“Come onn, ‘unny.” Soap slightly slurred, trying to push you forward.

“No.” You snared.

Nobody else seemed to realize the scene that was unfolding in front of everyone, especially the unfortunate soul who Gaz and Soap were trying to push you forward to. The two bastards managed to sneak a mistletoe into the ceiling that nobody else, but you, have noticed. And the unfortunate soul, that you may or may not have become attracted to, was standing right underneath that mistletoe, completely unaware of what was going on. Or he does know what is going on and is just ignoring it. Who knows with your Lieutenant? You could hardly read the man as it is.

“The Captain is not going to be happy about this.” You snarled.

“Is the Captain in the room with us?” Gaz asked.

You gazed around the recreation room, immediately noticing Price’s absence. Son of a bitch probably went to get another one of his cigars.

“Shit..” I mumbled, feeling the smirks coming from the two of them without looking at them.

“Come on lass…just do it.”

“Get it over with.” Gaz followed after Soap, feeling a small nudge after another.

“You guys please.” I mumbled, feeling myself get more and more frustrated.

Who the hell let them get into the bourbon? This was ridiculous. Simon was on his phone, just standing there, in the middle of the damn room. Why wasn’t he sitting down so I wasn’t being put through this torture?

“Alright that’s it.”

“Huh?”

Quick as a flash, both Soap and Gaz leaned back and shoved you with so much drunken force that it forced you forward, crashing into your crush’s chest. Damn his chest was so beefy-wait what? Stop it!

“Fucking shit, Lituenant I am so sorry.” I frantically apologized, immediately pulling away from him.

Simon didn’t say anything but he glared at the two drunken idiots that were giggling like high school girls in some distance behind you. Even though he has the balaclava on, you could just see and feel the anger radiating off of him.

“I assume those two bloody idiots have something to do with that.” Simon asked.

“Y-Yes sir.”

You idiot, you thought. You have been up close and personal with your Lieutenant before so why was it so different now? Perhaps it was the alcohol running through your system, or it was because Simon was wearing his balaclava that exposes his upper half of his face, which allowed you to see his dark brown doe eyes. You could tell that Simon could display what he was saying through his eyes without actually saying anything. Despite never seeing his full face, you could tell that he was a handsome man. A very handsome man.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter out, realizing that you have been staring at him.

“Are you always this nervous around me?” Simon asked.

Did..did he really just ask that? What was he scheming? Or even thinking?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.” You say, trying to ignore the nerves and warmth inside of your gut.

Simon just stared at you, making you even more nervous than before. He then looked up and down at you, which made your heart skip a beat. It was as if he was examining you to see if you were lying just by your body movement. And boy was it showing.

“I have known you long enough Sunny to know that you’re lying to me.” Simon mumbled, keeping strong eye contact.

“Hmm what do you mean by that, Lieutenant?” You ask, trying to keep it casual.

“You don’t have to call me Lieutenant when we are off duty.” Simon mentioned.

“Oh really? Well then shall I call you Mr. Riley?” You joke.

“Heh. Just Simon is alright.”

Did he..Did he just chuckle? It was very subtle but you swore you heard it.

“Oh alrighty then, Simon, I still don’t know what you are talking about.”

Suddenly Simon took a big step forward, causing you to immediately step back away from him. Simon raised an eyebrow at you upon your action, essentially giving away how you were feeling.

“Are you sure about that?” Simon questioned.

“Yes, sir.” You were confident in your answer, despite the big beating in your nerves radiating throughout your body.

“Stay still then.”

And with that Simon took another big step towards you, and you remained still as he was up close to you. Simon’s eyes wandered all over you, studying your body language once again. Fucking shit this was nerve racking, you thought. Simon’s eyes then gazed up onto the ceiling, but you kept your eyes at his face.

“Bloody bastards..” Simon mumbled.

You knew exactly what he was looking at. That damn mistletoe. The damn thing that got you in this situation in the first place. You looked up, pretending to notice it for the first time.

“Oh, ha! How about that?” You casually said, but Simon could see right through your bullshit.

Simon stared right down at you, causing you to crane his neck to hold eye contact with him. He was so tall and so big, muscle wise at least. During missions, when you were uncomfortably close to Simon, your heart never raced and your hands never shook. Sure you felt intimidated by him a little bit but that’s because he was a beast of a man. The way you saw him take down an enemy was like watching a beautiful painting be done in real life time. He was precise and knew what to do. There was in fact a moment that happened between the two of y’all that you both haven’t had the chance to talk about. It wasn’t sexual in nature but it was definitely conversational worthy.

“Simon..” You mumble.

“Hm?” Simon raised an eyebrow hearing his name be called.

“Can we talk about..last week?” You ask.

Simon’s eyebrows went flat, giving you his neutral glare. He didn’t say anything, allowing you to go first.

“I know it shouldn’t mean anything, it's just..you don’t normally see your Sergeant half naked. On any mission” You start.

“I understand.” Simon said.

What had happened was you were injured to the point that Simon had to strip you of your clothes, minus your underwear, in order to pressurize and tend to your wounds. His eyes wandered all over your body and it made you feel something you haven’t felt before with anyone. It wasn’t sexual in nature, but it definitely felt awkward to be half naked in front of your Lieutenant. Coincidentally, no one else was around when it happened. Just you and your Lieutenant. You wanted his hands to wander and touch your entire body, and he felt that you were feeling that. It almost happened too, until Price and the rest of the Task Force came into view. His hand was on your chest and he leaned in close. It almost went into another direction.

“I just..didn’t know how you felt from that and I didn’t want us to have any weird tension or act differently towards each other cause of it.” You say, trying to get your feelings out there.

“You can tell me how you actually feel, Sunny.” Simon said.

What the hell does he mean by that?

“Uh..that is how I feel.”

Simon shook his head at you. This bloody bastard. You chuckled at him out of annoyance.

“And how do you know how I really feel, Lieutenant?” You snarky asked.

Simon then stepped even closer to you than he was before, as if he was trapping you between him and an invisible wall. It felt as if it was just you and Simon in the room, despite Soap and Gaz still being here, but they weren’t paying any mind to the two of you as they were both playing a drunk game of pool.

“I know what you wanted that day and I would’ve given it to you if everyone else didn’t show up.” Simon’s voice dropped an octave when he said that, sending chills down your spine.

Is he implying what you think he is implying? There’s no way.

“S-Simon..” You stutter out, not finding the words for this situation.

Simon smirked as he lifted his balaclava up to his nose, revealing more of his face to you that you have never seen before. It made your heart flutter and you got butterflies in your stomach upon seeing it. It was as if you were seeing something very intimate of him that you weren’t supposed to see.

“Simon..you’re..” You pause, barely finding the words to say.

“I’m wha’?” Simon smirked, fully hearing his voice for the first time.

“You’re handsome..I’m sorry I shouldn’t have-”

Simon stopped you by holding your cheek, making you hold eye contact with him. He then took his mask, pulled it over his eyes, and rested it on his head, seeing his fluffy dirty blonde hair for the first time. Why was he doing this? You didn’t understand it.

“Simon I-”

SMOOCH

You were cut off by Simon’s lips landing on yours. His lips were soft, not chapped and felt so damn soft. You kissed back, not wanting this to end. Not ever, ever, ever. You felt Simon nibble on your bottom lip causing you to gasp out of surprisement. Simon then stuck his tongue into your mouth, causing you to softly moan with the action. You wanted to pull away, feeling too flustered, but as soon as you did, Simon held your head and forced you back on his lips, keeping your head in place. Instinctively, you put your hands on his chest, feeling his big muscles through the thin jacket he was wearing. Everything about this was perfect. You let Simon explore your mouth with pleasure, not even fighting for dominance with him and you just let him do whatever he wanted. You dreamed of this moment and it was finally happening.

“S-Simon..” You moaned into his mouth, which went straight to his lower region.

Simon couldn’t believe this was happening either. He eventually pulled away but remained close to your face. There was silence between the two of you but it was good silence, as if the two of you were processing what just happened in your own ways.

“Bloody fucking hell, get a room you two!!” Price’s voice suddenly boomed into the room.

You thought that would cause Simon to pull away from you but he didn’t. No, he kept his hands on you and you kept his hands on you.

“Fuck off and go smoke yooself to death Price.” Simon retorted back, knowing that was the booze talking.

Price just rolled his eyes as he approached Soap and Gaz, seeing what they were doing. The three of them had no clue how the two of you felt and you were bound to keep it that way. For now. Simon’s eyes went back to you as if he was examining you.

“Let’s go back to my dorm, aye?” Simon suggested, which then went straight to your core.

“Yes, sir.” You agreed with no hesitation.

Simon then led you to his room, and gave you an entire night of love and passion. And during the whole time, you began to think that this all happened, even if this was not going to be a permanent thing, you knew at least for the time being that tonight happened because of one damn thing. That damn mistletoe.

END

#cod #callofduty #simon ghost riley #call of duty #cod modern warfare #ghostofthemost141 #cod x reader #modern warfare x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod ghost #simon riley x reader #john price #kyle gaz garrick #johnny soap mactavish #mw2

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soft-girl-musings · 4 months

Text

Comedy of Errors (MK Spring Bingo #3)

Steven Grant x GN!Reader

cross-posted to ao3

tags: theater kid slander (affectionate), amateur references to Shakespeare, steven and reader teach high school, no use of y/n

wc: 1,341

fic summary: The course of true love never did run smooth. And neither does the play you watch unfold.

A/N: as a recovering theater kid, this was a fun one. enjoy!

_____________________

It's poor etiquette to laugh. Right?

How you ended up sitting in a high school theater on a Sunday afternoon, you have no idea. Well, that's not true: you never can say no to your favorite students. When they begged you to come to their closing matinee, you had no choice but to cough up the ticket money (with no faculty discount, to add insult to inconvenience).

So here you are, seated in the darkened auditorium, watching what could only be described as chaos unfold on your school's professional-grade thrust stage.

In the lobby you'd heard whispers of how last night's cast party had gotten a bit too rowdy, rendering a few upperclassmen unable to attend their final performance. It didn’t matter what circle you ran in at their age: you’d learned years ago that a “mysterious illness” following any high school party probably isn’t the flu.

Thankfully there were enough students to fill in the missing principal roles, but with only the morning to prepare, it’s a wonder they've gotten through each scene. Draped in ill-fitting costumes with scripts in hand, the students have tried their best to piece together one last staging of A Midsummer Night’s Dream. All you know about this play is that it’s a comedy, but you don’t think you’re supposed to laugh at every blunder and mishap.

(It’s very hard not to.)

Across the house you see Mr. Grant, one of the younger teachers on campus, whose face mirrors how you feel. He’s probably trying for a look of statuesque stoicism, but all he's managed to pull off is mild bewilderment.

You haven’t spoken to your coworker much– mainly because there’s rarely a moment where he’s without another colleague talking his ear off or hanging on every word of his (admittedly delicious) accent. He’s a newer hire, having come from London to teach a few history courses but was moved to the literature department the moment your principal saw the top of his resume. The modern education system, ladies and gentlemen.

The man is dressed to impress: black turtleneck under a sharp tweed ensemble, his usually wild curls tamed a bit as they grace his forehead, he certainly looks the part of a private school instructor. But there’s no denying the entirely unserious look on his face: he is one blunder away from losing his cool.

You don’t realize how long you’ve been staring until his bright brown eyes connect with yours. In an instant you understand why so many students doodle his name in the margins of their notebooks: his exasperated stare has you instantly weak.

–which is poor timing, given the scene unfolding onstage between you. An unrehearsed kiss goes wrong, and the two of you slap your hands over your mouths to subdue your laughter.

The rest of Act I goes the same way. You try to follow along, but every so often your eyes drift to Mr. Grant white-knuckling his way through the rough performance. When your eyes connect again (and again, and again) you both struggle to contain your laughter. Knowing that tears are likely stinging your colleague's eyes the same as yours makes you feel like less of an ass.

The curtain closes for intermission and you rest your head in your hands. How is this only half over?

“Bit of a rough watch, yeah?”

Your head snaps up– those brilliant brown eyes widen at your expression, now only one row of seats between the two of you.

“Mr. Grant–”

“Steven,” he says quickly, offering his hand. You take it and smile.

“Steven,” you begin again, giving your name in return. “I don’t mean to be rude, but aren’t some of these kids–”

“–in my Shakespearean Studies course? Quite a few, really.” He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. “But we’ve focused more on the historical tragedies. Don’t think a textbook can teach comedic timing.”

“Oh, I've laughed plenty.” You fidget with your program and look back to the stage. “At least they’re trying their best, I’m sure part of you is proud.”

Steven’s smile grows as he shakes his head. “I’ll be honest, it’s nice to know they’ve looked at the material for once.” He leans in. “Last week I asked them where the phrase ‘double, double, toil and trouble’ came from, and someone said Harry Potter.”

You laugh out loud for the first time all evening. It feels nice to not hide it. You miss how Steven takes in the sight of you, as well as his loss for words when you calm down.

“I have a confession to make,” you say hoarsely, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. “I have no idea what’s supposed to be happening. I’m lost as hell.”

“Maybe I could–” he trips over his words and his feet as he clambers around the seats to sit next to you. “Maybe I could help you out. Bit of an expert, myself. What they pay me for, and all–”

“Sure,” you stop him with a smile. “I’d like that.”

He breathes a sigh of relief and settles in. Pulling out a pair of reading glasses, he opens his program.

“Right. So, A Midsummer Night’s Dream…”

The rest of your intermission is spent receiving a crash-course in William Shakespeare. You’re amazed at how he spouts the most minute details about recurring symbolism, character motivations, and even the historical context of the play up until the lights dim and the show resumes. You squeeze his forearm to silently suggest taking a break, and he chokes down whatever factoid was about to tumble out next.

Maybe it’s because the students have found their footing. Maybe your mini-lecture has filled in the gaps so you can better follow along. Or maybe it’s the sight of Mr. Grant– Steven– sitting beside you, rapt attention on the stage as his readers slide down his nose each time he laughs and leans in to explain the joke, drawing closer and wafting his subtle cologne your way between still-too-loud whispers. Whatever the reason, you’re enjoying the second half of this show much more than the first.

The play draws to a close with a happy ending. One of the fae characters comes downstage to address the audience as the rest of the cast departs.

“If we shadows have offended,

Think but this and all is mended:

That you have but slumbered here

While these visions did appear…”

“Star pupil, that one,” Steven whispers once more. “Deserves every bit of the spotlight.”

You squeeze his arm again, this time not moving your hand or looking his way. You both take in the last words of the performance in dazed silence.

“...Give me your hands, if we be friends,

And Robin shall restore amends.”

With that, the fairy bows and the stage fades to black.

The audience erupts into applause as the cast returns onstage. You and Steven cheer and swap last-minute quips about the performance as the standing ovation thunders around you.

You exit the auditorium together and are immediately swarmed by a handful of students– some yours, some his– who eagerly await your feedback. You each congratulate the cast, getting them to sign your programs to commemorate the day.

Finally you’re able to break away and step into the brisk evening air.

“Well that was… something,” you laugh.

Steven grins as he fastens his coat. “‘Least they’ll be tuckered out in first period, yeah? Might get a bit of peace tomorrow morning.” He pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to you. “Sorry, don’t want you to leave that behind. Could be worth something someday.”

You take your folded program back from him. “Oh, I'm sure.”

With an awkward wave, Steven steps back. “Right. Well, see you around.”

“See you, Steven.”

You turn to head toward your car. As you walk, you unfold your program to see a new signature on the back page, followed by a phone number.

Let me know if you need any more Shakespeare translated. I’m fond of the love poems, myself ;)

_____________________

A/N: mk bingo has been a blast, i'm grateful for the chance to put these guys in Situations. that's one for each of em now. we'll see who gets attention next...

also, some inspiration was taken from this post (rip)

as always, ty for reading <3

event tags: @moonknight-events @spacecowboyhotch @juneknight

addtl tags: @mrs-lockley @lunar-ghoulie @shadystarlightgentlemen @casa-boiardi @nerdieforpedro @queerponcho (lmk if you'd like to be added to/removed from this wee tag list)

#my works #mk spring bingo 2024 #moonknightevents #moon knight #steven grant #steven grant x reader #steven grant/reader #steven grant x gn!reader #steven grant/gn!reader

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kyokutsu-sama · 1 month

Text

Welcome Back

A/n: Releasing another one shot about him because this scenario had been living in my head for a long time. I know that one is kinda long but it was one of the scenarios I most enjoyed writing fr❤️

Tw: Nsfw content

_____________________________

There was no better combination than a calm night accompanied by the sound of crickets and water running down the stone steps of the small river in the garden next to your bedroom. You were sitting on the chair in front of the bed while thinking about several things at the same time, your eyes wandered to the crack in the sliding door that led to the garden to see the moon shining in the sky.

The nights in Hino were always the same but now they remained colder since the man you loved had to leave one day and was now captain of a squadron of magic knights.

You sighed heavily remembering the last conversation you two had, which wasn't the most pleasant. You had so many things to remember about each other, so many. You've never been able to look at anyone else since then, no one could make that flame grow again, just him.

Now the question is: How long would you keep staying there, thinking about the way he looked at you and touched you, instead of moving on with your life like he did?

You had no answer and every time you thought about moving on, he came back to your mind again and you went back because once again, there was no one left but him.

You took the glass next to the chair and filled it with drink and drank it, feeling the liquid burn your lips and throat. You closed your eyes, after putting the bottle down and took a long sigh as you remembered all those scenes again.

“Damn!”

You wanted to hate him, you wanted to punch him for leaving you behind. Why had he slipped through your fingers like that?

You should hate him instead of crying and wondering why he left for the kingdom of Clover, which was far away. You really wanted to hate him, but how? How would you hate the only person you truly loved in your life? The only person you opened up to and felt comfortable with?

So many nights coming home after getting drunk, and that's when things started. The hands snaking over both of the bodies, the hot lips, the wet kisses and so many other things...

The way you would hugged him on the living room couch or in bed, his hand stroking your hair as you two talked until fell asleep.

"No, you can't keep thinking about him. Forget that idiot..." You muttered with a long sigh, even though you knew you were lying to yourself with every word

The thoughts were scattered in seconds when a knock on the front door sounded and you jumped a little, startled.

You closed the door that led to the garden and straightened the ribbon that held your robe together before leaving the room and going to see who it was.

You placed your hand on the door handle, intrigued by the fact that someone had come to visit you at that time. As soon as you opened the door, you could have sworn you were hallucinating, or at least, you'd rather be. That idiot you were trying to forget, had appeared but this time in person and right in front of you. You definitely weren't expecting that man to ever think about showing up after all this time.

Now you were undecided between closing the door in his face or let him in but when you looked into his eyes for a while, calmly analyzing them, you knew he wasn't coming to make things worse.

He wanted something he thought he lost years ago.

"Hi..." Your voice was low and shaky as you lowered your eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in? I didn't come to cause trouble, I promise."He spoke in a deep, calm voice, putting out his cigarette

Yes, he hadn't forgotten anything like you thought. He was aware that the last conversation was hard for both of you and he also knew that going there might not be the best choice but he had to try.

You looked down and motioned for him to come in, without saying anything.

He went to the living room and sat on the couch, you entered the room shortly after, standing in a corner, arms crossed and looking at some random corner. When he felt your presence, he looked back but you remained there motionless.

"Come closer, I won't bite you."He called you, pointing to the armchair next to you to sit."Let's talk."

"Talk?"

"Yeah."

"I don't think we should do that, it went wrong last time." You remembered, now looking at him

"We were young…"

"No, it wasn't just that. You had a goal and I had a place I didn't want to give up."

"I, however, gave up Hino when I was a brat because of family problems. You knew that and yet, I came back here, years later, as a magic knight. I remember you welcoming me that day with a big smile and we ended up drunk after a night of drinking. It could have always been like this, but life was not a bed of roses..."Yami said, looking at the ceiling and sighing

"Yes, and it wasn't. It really wasn't..." You said, approaching him and sitting in the armchair. "and now you come back as a captain, hoping that I would welcome you with a smile again. The thing is, that it didn't happen and you'll be leaving soon for the kingdom, carrying out your duties and I'll stay here alone and... waiting for you."You whispered the last words, knowing you had already said something you shouldn't

Yami looked at you for a moment, seeing melancholy in your eyes. He always seemed oblivious to other people's feelings but he wasn't a total idiot like many thought. He just felt more than he said. He knew you still liked him, maybe there was still hope. The captain hadn't forgotten about you either since he left that day. He remembered every night and every day with you. Every single one of them.

"Do you want something to drink?"You asked, trying to change the subject after seeing the tension that had arisen in the room between the two of you

"Yeah, something really strong, please."He waved and you got up and went to get something very strong as he had asked

His eyes following you to the kitchen, not failing to notice how nervous you looked.

You returned with his drink and he thanked you before drinking it, placing the glass on the coffee table.

"Do you still have that at home?" He asked, referring to the drink you offered him

"Yes, it used to be your favorite... our favorite, in fact." You looked at him and he smiled

"Yes, I know. Don't you drink too?"He took another sip and handed the glass to you

"No, I'm fine."

"You need it, it would cheer you up a little."He insisted

"No, seriously, I'm fine." You assured

Yami put the glass aside and leaned back but his eyes focused on nothing else but you, looking you up and down as if they were trying to talk to you.

You didn't know why he was there, or rather, why you were sitting with him, as if everything seemed fine and, on top of that, he was drinking your favorite drink. The one you two used to share the bottle with each other.

Could it be that you were doing that because you still loved him and because you didn't want to lose that bond again?

You didn't admit it but maybe that was it, but there was an internal struggle within you between the pride and the love you still felt and that was making you very frustrated.

"Hey?! Are you there?" He snapped his fingers close to your face and you 'woke up'

"Yes, I am and I would be better if you weren't here." You said, giving in to pride and using coldness, even though you knew you would regret it bitterly later

"Don't say that, you're ruining my sensitive heart here." He placed a hand on his chest to emphasize the scene

"Fuck that heart of yours, you didn't care about mine when you went to Clover."You got up and went to your bedroom, unable to stay in the same space as him

"Y/n, come back here, I'm not finished yet. Hey! Are you listening to me?" He shouted from the room but you ignored him. "That idiot is a tough nut to crack..." Yami grunted, getting up and went up to your room

That night would be long...

You were walking in a circles, completely out of your mind when the door opened and you immediately turned to face him.

"Yami, get out now!" You ordered as soon as you saw him

"I just came here to see you but not like this." Yami said, approaching you."Come on, calm down."

"Yami, seriously, GET OUT!" You weren't holding back anymore and your voice started to become tearful, something you wanted to avoid

"You don't want to do this, I know..."His words only intensified the moisture in your eyes until you felt tears falling

You were mad, you were tired but at the same time you felt light for letting out what was inside you all those years, even if it was in front of him. All those tears were suppressed for months and you always told yourself that you wouldn't cry for him but now you had reached the limit with that situation.

And tired of all those emotions, you confessed.

"I missed you..." You shouted, between tears and sniffles. "That feeling never went away because you were the only person I had... When you left after our last conversation, I just wanted to disappear. I didn't know when you would come back, or if you would actually come back." You looked at him and he was looking at you, while you vented. He had a heavy heart after seeing what a mistake it was to leave you alone. "I was alone all these years, there was no one else after you, just you."Your eyes met his, full of tears and he felt bad, seeing you like that. He blamed himself even if neither of you were to blame for what happened. It was just a mismatch of life.

“Things could have been different between us. It was my fault that you were like this and now I don't think there is anything I can really do to make things right..." He said, looking down

"No, no, it wasn't your fault for following your life goals," You said, wiping your tears and moving your hair away from your face, sighing."But, there's something I need to know."

"What?"Yami asked and you looked at him for a short moment

"Have you been thinking about me, all this time? Did you manage to look at anyone else, after me?" You asked, taking slow steps towards him and looking him in the eyes. Yami was a little taken aback by the question but answered.

"I did, I thought about you a lot of times, even though I know I should move on."Yami sighed and you looked away."Regarding the second question, I can also say that there was no one else. Even if there was one or the other, that tried..."He chuckled and you looked at him sideways

"Of course they tried, who wouldn't try anything with a man like that?" You thought

"Yami?"You looked at the man in front of you, from top to bottom

"What?"

"I still miss you," You lookes into his eyes, telling the true about what you were feeling."Your touch still remains in me, your lips, your eyes, your voice, your arms, everything about you is still marked on me." You curved your lips in a smile

"Y/n..."He felt a little lost for words seeing how your eyes had changed expression

Your name left his lips in a soft, low tone but you stopped any other words from coming out of his mouth as you kissed him intensely, taking him by surprise. He didn't think you would kiss him like that after all that, he even thought you would kill him right there.

Your hands held the back of his head firmly while his went to your waist, you could taste the taste of the drink on his tongue in that rough kiss. You broke the kiss to catch your breath, looking into his eyes, there was desire but something even deeper.

"You...What happened to you?" He asked, unable to help but smile

"Just shut up." You ordered before kissing him again

His hands undid the knot of your robe and removed the fabric from your body, exposing your naked body, your hands hurriedly ran over him, removing his shirt. You needed him more now than at any other time, you gave in to the deepest thoughts, the strongest desire, which you fought for years but now you had lost.

He grabbed the back of your thighs and took you to the bed, laying on top of you. He kissed your neck, marking all the skin as your fingers ran through his disheveled black hair. Maybe you missed it more than you thought.

He left the curve of your neck and brought his lips to your breasts, his mouth was voracious around them, his hands felt the flesh and his tongue swirled around your nipples, making you let out low moans.

He was more intense and his touch was more voracious and rougher than the other times. He was no longer the magic knight you had dated, he was the captain and an indomitable man now.

He knelt on the mattress and grabbed your legs, spreading them and reveling in the sight of the wet sheen, running down your folds that only made him want to bury himself deep inside you.

"You're too wet for a person you don't want to see in front of you," Yami said, running two fingers through the slit and you arched up. "Did you miss that too?"

"Yes, fuck yes." You said, breathlessly

He distributed kisses all over your thighs, leaving red marks all over, until he reached the middle of your legs and devoring your clit, making loud moans come out of your lips. Your body was taken by surprise by that man's roughness.

Many years might have passed but he was still the best at what he did down there. Yami ran his hands from your thighs and brought them to your waist, keeping your body firm against his face as he ate you out. Your hands pulled his hair, whimpers left your lips feeling the humidity increase.

You wanted that so much, you wanted his hands running through you, digging his fingers deep into your skin and leaving marks that you would appreciate in the morning.

His lips sucked your sensitive spot, the tip of his tongue swirling around it and driving you crazy, your head fell to the side with your eyes rolling back.

Yami looked up to find your face reveling in pleasure, that sight only turned him on even more and he could already feel his member aching against the fabric of his pants.

"Yami, I ahhh...so close. "You said between moans and with heavy breathing

He was completely oblivious to your words, wanting to take more from you, to taste how delicious you were.

"Come to me, let me taste you," He whispered, in a husky voice against your pussy. "You still have the best taste"

You could swear it was his voice that made you come at that moment, everything about that man was hot. He brought one hand to your folds, caressing them before inserting a finger into you, you closed your legs around his head and he used his other arm to hold one of them.

He added the second and your loud moans afterwards were music to his ears. He really thought about you calling for him, with that voice so full of desire, in his room.

His fingers moved in and out of you quickly as the tip of his tongue continued to taste your overstimulated clit. You closed your eyes, unable to take all that any longer, drops of sweat slid down your skin and your body trembled with goosebumps.

It didn't take long for you to come and wet the captain's fingers, who removed them from you and took them to his mouth to taste you again, wiping the corners of his mouth afterwards.

You opened your eyes seeing him looking at you, you could guess by the look and that mischievous smile that he was still starting.

"What's wrong, princess? Are you going to faint from exhaustion? You've weakened." He chuckled and you couldn't help but smile with him too, even though the urge to punch him was still there

"I didn't weaken, I'm just waiting for you to decide."You said, placing your hands on the mattress and sitting up to see his face up close

"Decide what?" He frowned

"If you're going to fuck me or if you're going to go back to the clover kingdom and leave me here to finish the rest," You said, taking one of your hands to caress the bulge in his pants. "Come on, captain. You know you want this too." You whispered next to his lips

He had to admit that when you called him captain, it caused something in him and he would want to hear that come from your lips again.

He grabbed your chin with one hand and pulled you forward to kiss you, you knelt in front of him with your legs still heavy, without moving away from his lips for even a moment. You took your hands to his pants and started untying the belt on his pants, he lifted his hips so you could lower him along with his underwear. He helped you to take the rest and threw them aside before kissing you again, his tongue carrying your own taste in it.

You took your hand to his cock, stroking it from bottom to top, feeling the first drops run down your hand and the length. He moaned against your lips when you sped up the movements with your hand, one of his hands grabbing the back of your neck and the other on your waist. You left his lips, licking yours, swollen and wet, while looking into his eyes that begged for you.

"I want you inside me," You asked and he sighed heavily. "Do what you want with me."

Yami didn't hesitate and turned you onto your back, placing you face down on the mattress and positioning himself behind you. You lifted your hips up towards him as your hands grabbed the sheets, you looked over your shoulder, enough to see his hands spreading your legs and grabbing your hips. Yami already missed that sight.

"I want to see if that voice still sounds as loud as it did back then." He said as he ran his hands over your skin and you giggled, looking back

"Why? My dear captain missed my voice too? How sweet!" You said and he slapped on of your cheeks and you moaned

"Don't talk too much. You'll end up hurting yourself." He leaned over to whisper in your ear and you chukled

He pulled away and held his cock, keeping the other hand on your hip, entering you slowly and making you whimper when you finally felt him inside, making your walls widen and your legs tremble. You dreamed about feeling that sensation again and now you couldn't be more pleased to be able to to feel him filling you, making you squirm beneath him.

He barely waited for you to adapt to him and he started thrusting into you from behind and you gripped the sheets tighter. The captain really didn't expect something like this to happen again but there he was and since you had done it like this, he would give it his all. He thrusted you strongly as he remembered the memories you two before, in Hino. He wanted to fuck you the day you two argued, he wanted to shut your mouth with his and try to resolve things but you needed space and when you pushed him away and ran away from him, he realized he couldn't do it nothing, but now, now he could.

His hands grabbed your flesh, marking it well so that he could see his hands there later and be able to say that he had done it to you because you were still his. His hips slammed against yours hard and fast, your legs could barely handle that intensity. Yami was a very strong man and had no problems using that strength to his advantage.

One of his hands went to your clit and rubbed it in quick, circular movements, eliciting countless moans from you. He looked at the reflection in the mirror next to him and that scene made him even harder and made him go deeper.

You were also able to see him through the reflection, his body coming and going against yours, your insides tightened around him just seeing that image. Tears of pleasure were overflowing your eyes and your mouth kept whimpering and saying his name.

You no longer remembered anything that had happened before, just how good he was making you feel.

"That's it...Just like that...So good" You moaned breathlessly and he smiled

He pulled you against his chest with one arm around you, his hand running down the valley of your breasts and the other caressing you down there while you held onto his forearms.

"Do you like this, huh? Couldn't you get over the idea that you were made for me all this time?" He said, thrusting you even deeper and you arched your back, tilting your head back

Your mind was blank and you didn't speak up but he was right, you couldn't and there you were.

"I'm coming...Yami ohh, I'm coming..." You said with a loud moan

You laid your head on the mattress as your cum squirted over his length, still penetrating strongly and erratically inside you. He bent down to suck the skin of your neck, he placed both hands on your hips, giving you one last strong thrust as he came inside you, filling your insides as he enjoyed the way your wet, warm insides tightened him inside you.

You lost track of what time it was, if it was still night or if he was still there.

Little by little, you were coming down from the enormous peak of pleasure he had given you and that was when you realized that it was still night and that it was late and that yes, he was still there.

Yami withdrew from you and you let your exhausted and sweaty body fall onto the mattress, you couldn't feel your legs and your breathing was very unregulated. With a lot of effort, you managed to turn around to face him, equally panting.

The captain took the cigarette out of the pocket of his pants, lying on the floor, and lit it, blowing the smoke as he sat on the mattress, looking at you at the mess he had done with you.

"You look like you won't be able to walk straight for the rest of the week." He said taking a drag and you smiled

"Guess who's to blame?"

"You're the one who started teasing me."

"Me? You're the idiot here, you're the one who did these things to me."

"But you like it when I do that, don't you? Because I don't ear you complain about it" He said, releasing the smoke between his lips and looking you in the eyes

You could see something else in his eyes besides the previous desire, it was as if he wanted to be there, close to you. You didn't want to talk about feelings now but you couldn't help it, you had to bet.

"Yami?" You called in a low voice and after managing to catch your breath

"What?"

"You still love me?"You asked, after a moment of hesitation

The captain took one last drag of his cigarette before putting it out and pulled your body onto his lap, you put your arms around his neck, looking into the eyes of the man you would do anything for.

He placed a kiss on the crook of your neck and then looked at your face again before kissing you gently. He wasn't a man of beautiful words like in usual romances but his actions made your heart burn with love. However, he clarified it in words just for you.

"Yes, I still love you, idiot." He whispered next to your lips and you smiled, feeling a tear fall

You hugged him, wrapping his body in a hug of longing and the need to have him with you. You could stay in his arms forever, it would always be your favorite place, your place of comfort. You couldn't contain the tears and small sobs against the crook of his neck.

"Why are you crying? I said I loved you and you react like this? I don't understand..." He frowned as he ran a hand through your hair

"It's just happy to know, that's all. Tears are not always about sadness."You said, moving away from the crook of his neck

"Oh, I thought you were sad because I liked you. My heart couldn't take it..." He chuckled as he wiped your tears with his thumbs

"You and your stupid little heart again." You rolled your eyes, smiling

"Seriously, he's very fragile and--"Yami countered but you silenced him with a kiss

His hands caressed your back as he tasted the lips he loved so much. It was something slow, unhurried and intimate, something you loved living.

"Yami..." You whispered his name, pulling away from the kiss for a moment. "I think..."

"Say it." He encouraged, seeing you confused

"Would you accept me in your squad?"

Yami never expected to hear those words coming from someone who clung to that place so tightly but he would never reject you.

"Are you sure? You're not going to cry because you miss home?" He teased you

"Your presence is my home and if we still love each other why should I live far away from you?"

"Yeah, you're right. Well, I can take you with me but be prepared because those people there are fucking crazy."

"Your magic knights?"

"Yes, those brats." Yami laid you down on the mattress and lay down by your side, pulling you close to him

"I'm sure they love you."

"They do."He sighed

"Would they love me too?" You pondered

"I think so but if not, nothing like a good kick in their asses to make them change their mind about you." Yami said in a threatening tone and your eyes widened

"You're always the same brute idiot as always." You snuggled into his chest and he chuckled

"Don't you like this brute here?"

"You didn't hear me complain, did you?"

"No."

"Then, shut up and let me sleep."You slapped his chest

"This woman is still a danger..."He muttered, before falling asleep shortly after

#Black Clover #black clover x reader #black clover fandom #black clover anime #yami sukehiro #yami sukehiro x reader #smut #smut writing #anime writing blog

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ohnoitstbskyen · 1 year

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one piece live action thoughts?

It looks very much like a live action adaptation of One Piece. For better, and very much also for worse.

I mean this in the sense that it's adapted to fit a form that helps it make sense 1) in live action and 2) to a general audience which isn't intimately familiar with manga or anime, and which a broadcaster or streaming service would want to reach.

Luffy especially, at least going by the relatively tiny snippet we have seen so far, seems to have had some of his more peculiar edges sanded off to fit more comfortably into the mold of a typical young adult protagonist, which includes the... I guess what people call "marvel speak" now? The little funny quips and asides and ironic saying-the-obvious-thing-out-loud beats, which are more Americanisms than Marvel specific but I digress.

In One Piece, Luffy is most often not the point of view character, especially early on. Luffy is usually observed from outside by other characters - Koby serves this role in the early chapters, and from then on usually we see Luffy through his crew, or through whatever secondary characters they're interacting with in that particular arc.

People have observed this before, but in the manga, we essentially NEVER get any internal monologue from Luffy, he always either SAYS what he's thinking, or he runs on head empty no thoughts just vibes instinct and gut reaction.

And that... probably doesn't really work with a typical young adult protagonist. If adapted faithfully to screen, I think a lot of audiences would read him as just a reckless, inconsiderate and kinda heartless asshole, because a framing and presentation of Luffy that makes sense in a manga or anime just doesn't read the same in live action filmmaking.

Like, One Piece opens with Luffy recklessly sailing off to sea despite having no idea how to sail, getting sucked into a whirlpool and surviving on sheer dumb luck, getting picked up by some pirates in a barrel. Then he meets an abused child named Koby who has been getting the shit kicked out of him daily for months and immediately calls him a clumsy, stupid, cowardly worthless loser to his face and laughs at him.

Like, if you adapted that faithfully, how would that come across to a general audience? Imagine this scene staged in live-action, with human actors having to portray this conversation rather than stylized cartoon people. It simply wouldn't come across the same way, Luffy would come across as an It's Always Sunny character at best. Why would a general audience sympathize with him? Why would they find him compelling or worth investing emotionally in?

And I'm not saying there aren't ways to adapt One Piece faithfully into live action, there absolutely are (much like the manga, I would make everyone ELSE the point-of-view characters looking AT Luffy rather than try and present him as a Likeable Protagonist, for example).

My point is just that in any translation into live action, there are going to be concessions to the medium, there are going to be concessions to film language, concessions to audience expectations, concessions to the market conditions, concessions to the studio funding the filming, and so on. That's just the nature of the endeavour.

When it's done well, you get an adaptation that preserves the spirit of the thing while fitting its medium. Lord of the Rings comes to mind, an adaptation which changed huge amounts from its source material, but preserved the spirit.

When it's done poorly you get... well, Cowboy Bebop on Netflix.

I don't know from the tiny trailer snippet we've seen whether this show will preserve the spirit of One Piece, it very well may not, and end up another victim on the pile of bad anime adaptations. But I don't think the fact that it changed the vibe of the characters or Main Character'd Luffy alone are reasons to dismiss it, at least not yet. Those might have been necessary concessions for the show to work in live action at all. We shall see.

I'm not super optimistic or excited (because, again, I remember Cowboy Bebop), but I'm not despairing of it yet either.

#tb answers #one piece #one piece netflix #netflix one piece #luffy

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gennyanydots · 1 year

Text

Matching Wits

How Jake met his wife. Part of the Spitfire Universe. Can be read alone.

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

Masterlist

Spitfire universe masterlist

Warnings: threats of bodily harm (not to either main characters) and a knife.

“If you even try to talk to my friend again let alone touch her, I swear I will pull the knife out of my bra and shove it so far up your ass I’ll be able to see it out your mouth.”

Jake’s shocked to hear something like that come out of such a beautiful mouth. He’s sure as shit glad it wasn’t directed at him though. He doesn’t know the woman who just said it, but you didn’t look like you were kidding around. Jake’s been very impressed by the way you’re staring down the man you threatened in front of you even though you looks almost a foot shorter than him. You’re refusing to back down. Good for you. He’s proud of you.

“Whatever, she’s a bitch anyways,” the man grunts out before turning and walking away, making sure to run into your shoulder as he walked by.

The feisty little lady that Jake’s been watching put both middle fingers up at him and yells, “I’m sorry about your small penis!” then you turned and pulled your friend into a tight hug. Jake nearly chokes on his beer trying not to laugh at the penis comment.

Jake had been assessing the situation from his seat at the bar, in case he was needed of course. His mama would pitch a fit if she found out he had watched that man hurt one of those girls while he did nothing about it and he’s nothing if not the good southern gentleman his mama raised him to be. If you two had needed saved from that man then Jake would have been the first in line to step in but he clearly wasn’t needed at all. The girl with the knife had it all under control.

Jake was watching the scene unfold from the corner of his eye. Didn’t want to get caught watching the drama, which he was only watching in case back up was needed, definitely not because he wanted to hear all the smart remarks coming from your mouth. Jake’s always been drawn to women like you. The sassier the better. He likes a challenge. And yeah he knows all about that ‘you’re attracted to women who remind you of your mama’ shit and he knows his mama is a bit on the sassier side but he’s pretty sure that you could whoop his mama even on a good day.

And maybe it’s less being attracted to women like his mother and more he watched his parent’s relationship and he wants to emulate that for his own future. He watched as his father helped his mother through hard times, making sure to never put out her fire, just to dim it when needed (Mostly for safety reasons). He watched his mother put up with the fire in his father which rarely came out. He watched his father soothe his mother’s worries. He watched his mother drop everything for his father when he needed help. With that kind of an example why wouldn’t Jake want something like that?

Not that Jake was actively looking for anything right now. Jake was busy as hell at The Naval Academy. He had another year to go after this one and then off to Pensacola he goes.

He had come out tonight with a couple of his buddies. They had an overnight weekend leave so they thought going out drinking was the best way to spend their time. Jake had only been at the bar to grab the next round of drinks for them all before the whole show happened and there was no way he was going back to his buddies before he knew the two girls were safe and sound.

When Jake calls the bartender over for another round he asked if he could put the feisty girl and her friend’s next drinks on his tab, which the bartender was happy to do and then got him the drinks Jake had asked for. Jake thanks him and heads back to his friends who were playing pool.

“What took you so long?” Ryker asks.

Jake shrugs, “Some guy was being an asshole to some women and I didn’t want to walk away until I knew he was gone.”

Charlie chuckles, “You wanted to be their knight in shining armor?”

Jake shakes his head, “Didn’t need to be. The one told him she was going to shove her knife up his ass so he ran away.”

Charlie and Ryker both laugh at that then went back to their game. Jake only half pays attention to his friends, instead choosing to lean against the nearest wall and drink his beer while he surveys the bar. He liked to keep an eye on things wherever he is. Always assessing his surroundings.

He thought Charlie had come to stand beside him but ended up being really confused when he saw Charlie step up to the pool table to take his turn to shoot. Jake quickly glances beside him and shouts in surprise, “The fuck did you come from?!”

“Over there,” you, the feisty woman from earlier, say as you point to the table your friend was still sitting at.

“Jesus Christ woman, announce yourself better next time,” he says with a huff.

You grin, “Naw, this was way too funny for me to announce myself. Think I’ll keep doing it.”

Jake rolls his eyes, “Glad I could be your entertainment for the evening.”

“Glad I could be yours earlier,” you say with a laugh.

“What are you talking about? I was very subtle about that. How’d you even know?” Jake asks.

“You mean the subtle way you blatantly kept turning slightly and watching? Real subtle.”

“I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything,” Jake says with a shrug.

You reach up from the bottom of your shirt and shift around a bit before pulling a pocket knife out and flicking open the blade, “I had it under control.”

Jake snorts a laugh, “You’re not holding it right. You’re gonna hurt yourself.”

“How am I supposed to hold it then?”

Jake takes the knife from you and shows you how to hold it before gently handing it back with the handle facing you.

You try, “Like this?”

Jake nods, “Better. The other way, if something accidentally caught on the closing mechanism you were going to chop off your finger tips.”

You make a face, “Ouch. Thanks for that.”

Jake nods at you.

“You know neither of us needed a man to buy us a drink…” you trail off.

“I can’t imagine you needing a man to do anything for you.”

“Except apparently show me how to hold a knife,” you say with a laugh.

Jake laughs too, “Yeah, except that. But now you’re all set. No need for a man. You’ve achieved greatness.”

You roll your eyes at his antics, “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Jake nods, “Part of my charm?”

“Is that what you are? Charming?”

Jake grins, “When I want to be.”

“Oh yeah? And right now you want to be?” You say with a smile.

“Maybe, check back in with me in like ten minutes and I’ll let you know,” he says with a shrug which makes you laugh.

“So, what’s a girl have to do to make you want to be charming towards her?”

“Helps if they’re cute.”

“Okay, check that one off the list,” you say with a grin. “I am very well known for being cute.”

“How do you know that? Did you put out a survey?” Jake asks crossing his arms while raising an eyebrow.

You nod, “I did. Went door to door with a clipboard and everything.”

Jake chuckles, “Well I can’t argue with data.”

“No you can’t. So, what else?”

“Big fan of attitudes.”

You grin, “I’m two for two. Look at me go.”

“You don’t say,” Jake says with a wink.

“Is there anything else or are you about to charm the pants off me?” You ask with a giggle.

Jake moved to stand in front of you then held out his hand to you. You gave him a funny look. He nodded towards his hand while looking at you expectantly so finally you put your hand in his. He gently closed his hand around your’s before sharply pulling you towards him so you were pulled against his chest then wraps his other arm around your waist, still keeping your hand in his. He starts to gently sway to the music that both of you can just barely hear. He bends his head so his mouth is near your ear and starts to hum along. The two of you stay like that for a minute or two and then the song changes and Jake slowly dips you then stands you both back up and pulls away from you.

“How was that?” He asks while grinning, knowing full well that he did good.

“Yep, yeah, I would say you’ve sufficiently charmed the pants off me. Good job,” you say while you feel your face heat up.

Jake chuckles.

You feel your phone vibrate in your pocket and you pull it out, “Well shoot. My friend is ready to go home and I’m her ride.”

Jake nods, “Well I did my job so I guess you’re free to go.”

You go to your phone contacts and hit new contact and hand Jake your phone, “But that was just once. Definitely not enough data to back up your claims. Should probably do it again.”

Jake laughs and enters his number under ‘Prince Charming’ and hands you back your phone, “Hope to hear from you soon, darlin’.”

“I’m sure you will. Bye Jake,” you give him a little wave and he smiles and waves back. You head off to the table you left your friend at.

Jake turns back towards his buddies.

“Knife girl?” Ryker asks.

Jake nods and glances towards the direction you went off to and sees that you’re walking out the door, “Pretty sure I’m gonna marry her.” Later as Jake’s laying in bed scrolling on his phone he gets a text that says, “Are you data? Because the only pattern I recognize is how hot you are.”

#jake seresin x reader #jake “hangman” seresin x f!reader #hangman x female reader #spitfire universe

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demonslayedher · 5 months

Text

It didn't seem right to skip over episodes I didn't draw recaps for! Things that ran through my head while watching this episode:

--When making this episode, Ufotable had the advantage of knowing what would come later in the manga. While rewatching it today, I had the advantage of knowing what would come later in the anime.

--By that, I mean the judicious use of Nezuko's lines in Tanjiro's dream in "Kamado Nezuko no Uta" *cough which I was just singing again at karaoke a few hours ago so it's even fresher in my brain cough*

--By that, I also mean the imagery of the field of Nichirin-to, wisteria petals, and dawn-like light as Tanjiro contemplates if he were to become a demon, and how he would trust that someone in the Corp would cut his head off for him --It never gets old how the Shabana siblings are a foil to the Kamado siblings, especially because Tanjiro recognizes how close they were and takes it to heart. I love how Gyutaro took a liking to Tanjiro on account of Tanjiro being laughably pathetic, and by merit of both of them being big brothers. That gives them something to relate to which is totally independent of whether they are demons or humans.

--I love that scene with Gyutaro mocking Tanjiro so much; it's one of those scenes that Ufotable really slowed down and dialed up the drama in, while still making every action make sense and count. One of the most tense conversations in the whole anime, and Gyutaro's glee is palpable. I love that all the names he calls Tanjiro are names that he was called when he was human, and while I don't think Gyutaro is conscious of it, it feels like at some level, he's yelling these things at himself because he's angry with himself for having failed to protect Ume.

--Speaking of, I love how Daki is like, "nuh uh, Oniichan, don't you dare make these two our friends, I hate them" and Gyutaro ignores her because she's an annoying little sister. Such siblings. Also, the way she's just casually sitting totally unphased at the top of the building is the biggest mockery, as it rubs him how useless their hard-earned triumph in the previous episode was. I love how much that theme gets stressed in this series--that is what it means to fight demons!

--Kimetsu logic: don't give us any idea what the characters are doing until after they've already done it. Tanjiro wasn't running away, but instead grabbing a kunai and covering its scent? Oh, ok, cool. Zenitsu had another variation on his one technique and he can only use it twice in one fight? Ok, cool. Inosuke can move his organs and resist poison? You know what, okay. Also, a note of voice acting--I love how heroically deep sleeping Zenitsu's voice is (I'm sure that's how the hero of Legend of Zenitsu always speaks), and how Inosuke is clearly Not Okay.

--Uzui can stop his heart? Sure. Alright. I wonder how much of that was voluntary in the middle of a fight with his little Tsuguko on the line, though--perhaps he also went into that state to prevent himself from bleeding out from his arm? But man, he is no-o-o-o-t looking good, that is truly fighting with desperation, however elated he is to have completed his sheet music technique.

--His wives were watching when he was down on the ground and supposedly dead. ;__;

--Ufotable always has such a challenge to make every Breath technique look amazing and they keep raising the bars. Even though a lot of the height of this battle was just being flashy and yelling at each other, they still had to thing about battle mechanics, like what hits they actually manage to get in on each other (Uzui didn't just lose the eye, he took a nasty hit in the abdomen, too!) and the moment Uzui drops one of his swords. Although a lot of the fighting in this episode is slowed down by character thoughts, if you put it all in sequence, it was very, very quick.

--This entire battle, actually, probably did not take very long. The initial blows exchanged between Tanjiro and Daki took a while, but once it got going with Uzui involved, it was very, very fast-paced. Considering people only started to evacuate during the Daki and Tanjiro battle, and most of them were still there during Nezuko's fight, it was probably very lucky if it was vacated by the time this episode started. We don't know how long Tanjiro was out cold, but hopefully that was enough time for the stragglers to get away before Gyutaro's final attack (but Nezuko saves them, yaaay, I also get to enjoy knowing that Nezuko's fire at the end of this episode because Ufotable made that cool choice too!). Anyway, part of the reason I bring up the speed of this battle is because I am still cross at Ufotable for messing up the timeline by placing this arc in very late autumn, which is should had been in summer, thereby making the night short in the first place--and uncomfortably hot even before you add all the flames! (Added bonus: hot and muggy for the boys when they're in kimono and makeup, because that's funny.)

--THE MARRRRKKKKKK

#KnY rewatch #my art #kamado tanjiro #kamado tanjirou #kamado nezuko #daki #gyutaro #gyuutarou

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lurkingshan · 1 year

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Kinou nani tabeta/What Did You Eat Yesterday?

You should know that I attempted to start this write up about half a dozen times before I managed to get a single word down. Every time I tried I just ended up staring at the wall. I don’t think I’ve been this emotionally stunned by a show since I Told Sunset About You, and I don’t say that lightly!

So, is this a good show? My god, YES. What an understatement. Let me tell you, as my MDL can attest, I’ve watched nearly 300 dramas. I’m sure I’ve watched even more Western shows since I had a 30 year head start on those. And I can say confidently that I’ve never seen anything quite like this gem.

Kinou nani tabeta, or What Did You Eat Yesterday?, is a drama about two middle aged gay men living their everyday lives, making and sharing food, reckoning with their identities and expectations, and figuring out how to be together in a long term relationship. That’s it, that’s the show. If that sounds boring to you, I gotta tell you: YOU ARE WRONG.

We meet Shiro and Kenji when they’re in their mid 40s and already a couple years into living together. Over the course of the show, we learn more about their relationship - how they got together, how they differ, where they struggle, where they shine, what they are still figuring out - and we see them work through it all, together. We see them at work, with friends, with their families, out in public, and in the privacy of their own home - we get a full and complete picture of their lives. And we are invited in to experience it with them and get up close and personal with their relationship in a way that feels both cozy and thrilling.

Now, I am not going to go into detail about everything that happens in this show, or attempt to provide deep analysis about its story, its characters, or the various cultures it depicts. This show was released in 2019, the manga began its run many years before that, and there are folks on this website - like @isaksbestpillow and @bengiyo - who have been at this a hell of a long time and thus have a broader context and lived experience from which to critically examine the show and its messages as they relate to Japanese familial values, life as a queer man from an older generation, and building community while living in a culture that is actively hostile to who you are. I implore you to go read their thoughts and learn from their wisdom. But what I will do is mention a couple (3… no 4, okay 5!) things that really made it stand out to me, a lifelong romance reader, avid media consumer, and drama enjoyer (I’m going to keep plot stuff vague because I hope if you’re reading this, you will be watching very soon!):

Let me repeat: this is a drama about a middle aged couple in a long term relationship, and the ongoing growth and deepening of their relationship is the main plot. Do I have to tell you how unique that is? The romance genre is rarely interested in what happens after the couple gets together, and even in other dramas featuring a couple in a LTR, the plot is usually about something else with the relationship in the background. And I’m fairly sure this is the only show of this nature in the entire bl genre (@absolutebl please fact check me if I’m wrong). In this show, the relationship is the point. It’s a rare look at what it actually takes to learn to deal with your baggage and share your life with someone, and I found it deeply moving.

My god these actors. With all due respect to the many fine actors in the bl industry, these two are on another level. We just never get to see seasoned actors of this caliber headlining ql dramas. If I have one tiny critique of this show, it’s that I found the moments when they let us listen in on the characters’ internal monologues mostly unnecessary - every emotional beat played out in their faces and body language. There’s this one scene I can’t stop thinking about, where the main pair are fighting, and one of them says something he doesn’t mean, and you see the regret on his face instantly, followed by a quick aborted movement as if to take it back, but his partner has already turned away and doesn’t see it. Just perfection. And the acting was so good in the finale (@waitmyturtles informed me my absolute fav moment was improvised for fucks sake) that it actually laid me out for like an hour, I was just sitting there in a crying daze.

The writing is so fucking smart. What’s absolutely brilliant about this show is that it’s structured like an episodic slice of life drama, but there is a deeper long term emotional arc at play and the writers forget nothing. Just like in life, in each episode something will happen, it won’t really get fully resolved, and the characters will move on. But on this show, it always comes back around, usually when your guard is down and they can inflict maximum damage by sucker punching you right in the solar plexus. I can hardly believe how many times this show managed to sneak attack me with emotional realness (official Shan cry count: 8/12 episodes caused me to burst into tears, sometimes more than once).

This show will take you through every possible destination on the spectrum of human emotion. I was so emotional while watching this show, in every sense. Crying both happy and sad tears. Swinging wildly between giddy delight, deep sadness, low key anger, and belly laughing. Sometimes the switch happens literally one scene to the next! And yet, there is an evenness to the tone and assuredness to the filmmaking that makes it all feel smooth. You never feel jerked around by the narrative. This is a credit to the writing, acting, and editing all coming together with perfect precision. The people who made this show are masters of their crafts.

OBVIOUSLY I MUST MENTION THE FOOD. Every episode of this show features at least one instance of a character making Japanese food that looks like the best thing you’ve never gotten the chance to eat. I do not recommended watching this without feeding yourself first, because it will have you salivating. And they don’t just show you the characters making the food (even narrating the recipes for you!), they always show you the characters actually eating and enjoying it. Some real foodies were involved in this production and as someone who loves to eat and absolutely was raised to view feeding people as a love language, I loved it.

So now that you are obviously dying to watch it, you must be wondering: where can I find this show? Let me point you to this post on @kinounaniresource, where the amazing Siiri has compiled all the video files and English subs you need. If you’re not familiar with how to use these, you’ll find instructions on her blog (if you get confused come ask me, please don’t bug her about it). I know sometimes shows being a little hard to access is a big deterrent to watching them, but please trust me that this is absolutely worth your time and effort, you will not regret it.

#kinou nani tabeta #what did you eat yesterday?#japanese bl #jdrama #man i am on such a good run with the classics lately #shan recommends #shan shouts into the void

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tripleyeeet · 6 months

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ONLY FOOLS FALL

SUMMARY: Upon arriving in Baldur's Gate, Zayis decides to pay her old flame a visit... much to Astarion's dismay.

PAIRING: Astarion & Zayis (OFC)

WORD COUNT: 12,356

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, penetrative sex, teasing, blood sucking as a form of foreplay (therefore mentions of blood), feelings realized, first confessions, angst with a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been months of brainstorming this particular scene and the build up that goes along with it, but I think I finally got it. For context, Vesryn is Zay's sort of ex who she never properly breaks up with due to getting kidnapped.

I know this chapter is a bit of a doozy but please, if you at all like my writing I beg you to give this one a shot. It's probably one of my favourite things I've written and I'm very proud of it. :')

Also shout out to @novarunestone specifically for helping my brain push through. You're the best, dude. <3

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

She’s at his door before she can even think to leave, rapping her knuckles against the grain —trying her best to swallow down the knot that resides in her throat. Pushing against the walls of her esophagus, she can feel the obstruction blocking her airway.

Forcing a heavy sigh to escape as she reaches up to touch it, she can’t help but wonder if this is her body’s way of enacting guilt. Considering her mind’s already jumbled up enough as it is, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was. She did throw a knife at her partner’s head for Gods’ sake, so the least she could do is feel the events of her shitty behaviour. That and to properly apologize. Which is ultimately why she’s here, standing in front of her old home, running her fingers nervously along the length of her neck.

As it swells with anticipation she can feel her chest tighten and her hands begin to sweat. Each symptom growing the longer she stands there, waiting; wondering whether or not he’ll answer the door.

Deep down, there’s a part of her that hopes he doesn't. A part that screams for her to turn on her heel and dash back to camp without even looking back. A part that thinks the unspoken word between two separating parties is more than enough closure to get her through. It’d certainly be the easier option, right? The one with less baggage. Perhaps if she could just accept that she’s still that same asshole that left all those weeks ago rather than the better person she’s currently trying to be she could just pretend like she never knocked on the door in the first place. Up and leave and never speak of this again.

Biting her bottom lip in annoyance, she knows she can’t. Thanks to Wyll and his stupidly decent advice, she’s too far gone with this whole making amends thing. Having promised the warlock she’d at least try to apologize, the mere thought of failing makes her want to crawl all the way to Avernus and never let another soul see her face again. Either that or hole up in the woods somewhere. Whatever happens first, really.

However, considering the more likely option being Avernus, she continues to stand there, idly scratching the side of her neck, feeling the ends of her claws dig through her dirtied flesh.

Almost immediately, the feeling of it makes her cringe and drop her hand, realizing just how stupid she must look, covered head to toe in dirt. Reeking heavily of sweat and viscera —two scents you definitely don’t want to bring home when you’re about to beg for forgiveness for apparently running away with a vampire.

Which obviously isn’t the case. Or, at least wasn’t. Nowadays she’s not quite sure what to think about that whole situation. So most of the time she just blocks it out entirely. Ignoring the fact that the line that was once drawn between her and Astarion has begun to blur into something new.

Something she has to apologize for otherwise the guilt might eat her alive. So, she bangs on the door again, this time using the edge of her fist to repeatedly slam against the wood, gritting her teeth in frustration. All while praying to whatever God might be listening that for once, instead of fighting, Vesryn just accepts her apology.

Because truthfully, she’s not sure she can take the rejection right now. Not even when she hears him grumbling on the other side of the door, making her realize she’s still pounding against it. Her hand repeatedly colliding until it’s eventually torn from her grasp and the man she once called her partner is standing before her.

“Zay?”

He looks older somehow. Worn out. With eyes that were once large, round orbs of obsidian are now narrowed and soaked in age. A newfound darkness cradling each one with exhaustion.

Pressing her lips together she nods her head at the sound of his voice and continues to stare, taking in all his features. Picking apart the way his face twists from confusion to annoyance, ultimately falling on something unfamiliar that eventually disappears inside the crook of her neck.

“You’re alive.”

He says it as if it’s a question. Whispering it against the shell of her ear, she barely hears it at first. Too shocked to process the position that she’s currently in, all she can do is stand there and try to repeat the phrase in her head. Allowing the individual sounds to fully absorb before she’s nodding her head again. “Hi, uh, yeah.”

He pulls away, still resting his hands on her arms. “You escaped.”

Suddenly confused, she raises a brow, watching his expression change again —this time back to annoyance, prompting her to realize what he means. “Um, not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What do you mean not exactly?”

She opens her mouth to respond before closing it back up again, unsure how to explain the events she’s recently experienced without completely freaking him out.

“Can I maybe come inside? We should probably talk.”

At first, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just stands there, staring. His mind most likely reeling from the fact that his ex is now standing at his doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in shit, most likely preparing to tell him that the man she left with is still very much in the picture.

None of which bodes well for her ever-growing fear of rejection. Especially considering that if the roles were reversed, she’d already be slamming the door in his face, telling him to piss off. So the fact that he hasn’t done that already feels like a bit of a miracle. One that continues to bless her once he eventually pulls away, motioning towards the inside of the house with a tired sigh.

Awkwardly, she smiles in response and enters, taking in the familiar scenery. Feeling its presence hit her like a ton of bricks as she forces herself further inside, ignoring that knot again. Pushing whatever anxieties that spread through her in order to move to the dining room table and pull up a chair.

“I’m sure you have a ton of questions…”

Trailing off, she lets out a nervous laugh and begins to play with the end of her tail. All the while Vesryn just stands at the other end of the table, looking down at her like with such empty eyes that she can’t help but clear her throat and pivot. Opting to just ramble instead of waiting for an answer, knowing deep down he might not give her one.

“First off, I need you to know I didn’t leave willingly.”

His brow quirks up at that. An air of interest coating his features, urging him to take a seat. “That’s an awfully vague way to start a story.”

“I mean, I’m not trying to be vague,” she replies, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes. “Honestly, I just —I don’t really know how to explain what’s happened.”

“You don’t know how or you just don’t want to?”

“Both, I suppose.”

All he does is snort and raise his hands to his face, dragging them down until they’re resting over his mouth, showcasing his never-ending lack of patience. “You’re aware of how late it is, right?”

This time she does roll her eyes. “My apologies sir, I didn’t realize I was being such a burden. Do you want me to go?”

Out of habit she then goes to stand, prompting Vesryn to angrily grip her wrist. “Oh for fuck’s sake —would you please just sit down and tell me where you’ve been?”

Equally as angry, she swears at him under her breath before crossing her arms over her chest. Using the pressure to subdue the need to panic as she tries to collect her thoughts before ultimately ending up with, “Astarion and I were kidnapped.”

Almost immediately she can see the lack of interest in his eyes begin to develop. How they quickly start to glaze over at the mention of Astarion’s name, reminding her just how unenthusiastic he is to hear about him alongside what he assumes is some sort of excuse.

“Obviously, the details are a bit complicated but the gist of it is that we were taken by mind flayers and now we’re trying to find a cure,” she tells him, but again, all he does is stare, his gaze set directly against her’s —devoid of anything other than disinterest and doubt.

Once again, it makes her want to leave. To repeat time and storm out like she did all those weeks ago. As terrible as it sounds, she knows it’d at least get his attention. Maybe even stir him enough to actually listen to what she has to say without immediately discrediting the truth.

“We met others on the ship. People infected like us. They’re in danger, Ves. I’m in danger.”

“Aren’t you always?”

“Not like this,” she tells him, swallowing hard. “Things are different. Bigger.”

He lets out a sigh. “Define big.”

“The whole city going up in flames big.”

Shifting in his chair, she can tell he’s trying his best not to say what he really wants to. An act that simultaneously fills her with rage and relief as she watches him mull over her words, allowing them to fully sink in before humming in response.

“Alright, I’ll bite. Explain to me how exactly you’re in danger?”

Before she can even stop herself, Zayis is telling him everything. Relaying each point of the plot through nervous thoughts and shaking hands. Trying her best to allow enough time in between the more convoluted sections to really process the severity.

And at first, it’s a struggle. Considering Vesryn’s almost as stubborn as she is, she can tell right off the bat it’s hard for him to accept. After having been convinced of this completely different narrative for so long, she can see it in his eyes he’s struggling to trust what she’s saying. To take all the outlandish things she’s relaying at face value after all the grief she’s put him through.

But then about halfway through she notices the switch. That subtle moment of realization taking over, forcing him to listen. To hear all the stressors of the last few weeks repeatedly piling on top of her. To understand that the night she left without a trace wasn’t just the result of a conscious choice she had made but rather a mistake in location at the worst possible time.

By the end of it, he’s got his arms across his chest, one of them angled up so that he can stroke his chin in bewilderment. “Gods, you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head.

In response, all Zayis does is shoot him a tight-lipped smile. One that feels so misplaced that it ends up falling almost immediately. “I just thought you should know, you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I didn’t walk out on you,” she admits, her throat aching from the explanation. “That I still care about you in some way.”

It’s at that point she can tell that Vesryn knows. Written plain as day across his face, she can feel it in her chest, too. Pounding against her already damaged frame. Echoing through the edges of her organs, causing them to twist in discomfort.

Considering he’s always been a pretty intuitive guy, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her but still, the second he eventually lets out a huff and awkwardly grins to himself, she can’t help but feel the guilt double in size. Triple even, watching the way he looks around the room, avoiding her pleading eyes.

“Somehow I always knew,” he says, still smiling. Still shaking his head in protest, as if he can’t quite fully accept it.

“I know.”

“You just —you always talked about him, you know? Whether it was about his terrible personality or his disgusting behaviour, it was like his presence was constantly taunting me. Making me feel like the least interesting man in your life.”

“You weren’t—“

“I know,” he cuts her off with a raised hand. Something that would normally make her angry but right now just makes her confused. “It’s just… no matter how negatively you talked about him there was always this passion there. Like everything about him was actually worthy of conversation.”

Letting out a dry laugh, he pauses to rub his face again, this time groaning through the process. “I guess, I just wanted you to talk about me like that. Just once so that I knew you weren’t getting tired of me.”

It’s at that moment Zayis feels her chest begin to break, the cavity of her ribcage splintering out to stab through her flesh. All at once, it hits the tenderest parts of her, ripping away what little composure she once had —filling her up with that same wave of emotion she’s been avoiding all this time.

Leaning back in her chair, it immediately prompts her to blink back the threat of tears. As they begin to sting her eyes, she can’t help but focus on the pressure and how it weighs far more than it did when she first entered. How somehow, despite doing what she came here to do, this newfound information Vesryn provides just feels like another problem. Another issue added to the ongoing pile of things she needs to fix but doesn’t know how to.

Which makes the once subdued panic inside her chest practically explode. Taking the form of shaking hands and shifting eyes, she can feel her breath start to quicken. The sudden lack of air located inside her chest making it difficult for her to breathe.

Almost immediately Vesryn’s kneeling in front of her as it happens, taking her hands in his while looking up with concern. “It’s okay, Zay,” he tells her. “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t understand how it could be —how he could be after all that she’s done to him. Having fucked off without a single goodbye he should be the wreck who sits at the table, looking like a broken vessel with nothing else to give. The one who mourns for a life they could’ve possibly had if not for bad timing or poor communication or—

“I forgive you, yeah?”

His voice is soft. A caress of sound that only further fuels her tears, realizing it’s her who’s crumbling. The one who’s broken and tired, unsure whether or not to let this go in favour of pursuing something new.

“Why?”

“Because I do?” He shrugs. “I don’t know —does there have to be a reason?”

Before coming here she would’ve said no and called it a day. But now that she’s in front of him, debating whether or not she should fight for a second chance, she needs it. More than anything she’s ever needed in her life, she’s willing to demand it if she has to.

Sensing this, all Vesryn does is sigh. Offering her a subtle nod, he then moves to stand while holding her head, allowing his fingers to gently push against the crown of her skull to calm her down.

“Once you left I think I realized we were only together because it was familiar,” he says, and immediately she knows he’s right because, near the end, it was as if they were nothing more than two people sharing a space.

Allowing the convenience of their arrangement to take over, no longer was there that initial spark they once had as kids. The one that drove them to care and want and grow. And because of that, by the time the kidnapping happened, it was obvious that they were well on their way to this same ending.

“I'm sorry, Ves.”

Before she can even think she’s reaching for his torso, pressing her face against the side of his ribs as she wraps herself around. An act he responds to by hugging her shoulder with one arm, once again telling her it’s okay.

“I promise we’ll make it out the other side,” he tells her, and somehow despite the cloud of doubt that seems to always circle her head as of late, she believes him. Feeling the truth of his words remind her that even though they’re not the same as they once were, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t still be there for one another.

“Gods, I hope you’re right because I really don’t think I have the mental capacity to become a mind flayer right now.”

Somehow that comment manages to break the ice, causing both of them to grin as Vesryn rolls his eyes. “What? Not a fan of tentacles?”

All she does is scrunch up her face.

“Oh c’mon! Might be fun!”

“Define fun.”

Peeling himself away, he wanders over to the kitchen and grabs a bottle off the shelf, placing it in front of Zayis before retreating back to his chair with a shrug. “I don’t know. Don’t they control people with their minds?”

Almost immediately she reaches for the vessel in front of her, pulling out the cork with a loud pop!

“Sure, but they also eat brains which I’m not necessarily fond of,” she explains, taking a sip of the undisclosed liquid, feeling it burn the second it hits her tongue.

“I mean, bit of brains never hurt anyone. Especially not you.”

As she finishes sipping, she shoots him an unimpressed look. One that eventually makes the both of them laugh, prompting her chest to tighten. Her body somehow reminding itself of how easy things used to be.

“I swear if I do turn into a mind flayer you’re the first on my list of brains to eat.”

“Really? Not the vampire?”

His voice is unnaturally smug as he says it. So much so that she’s almost a little surprised, watching the way he cocks his brow and reaches across the table to take a quick sip of his own.

“How is he doing anyways?”

“A bit forward, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. Last I heard though, you’re on borrowed time.”

Pressing her lips together, she realizes then that he’s right. Now that they’re back in Baldur’s Gate it’s only a matter of time before they have to face their problem head on. A detail she hadn’t quite grasped yet, having been focused on getting here first.

“He’s fine.”

Without warning Vesryn pushes the bottle across the table, smirking. “Just fine, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Not good? Great? Absolutely per—“

“He’s good,” she practically snaps, taking the few silent beats that pass to down a good portion of their drink.

“That’s good.” Nodding his head, he watches her take a few more sips, forcing back an obviously shit-eating grin. “Treating you well, I hope?”

He waves his hand through the air dramatically and immediately Zayis can’t help but groan and take another sip. Letting the liquid distract her from the roaming thoughts that keep entering her mind —forcing her to remember Astarion’s face and how unimpressed it looked when she left camp.

Somehow it makes her miss him. Despite knowing that she’ll return to his side amongst the others by the time the sun rises, there’s a brief moment where she’s staring at Vesryn that makes her panic. An almost anxious jolt of electricity firing through her nerve endings, causing her to twitch unfortunately in her chair.

“He’s alright, I guess,” she ends up saying. “Still annoying as ever.”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised now, too.”

“What do you mean?”

At first, she isn’t sure what she means. But then she narrows her eyes and thinks really hard for a second, uncovering the truth. “He’s actually, uh, kind of sweet sometimes.”

“Really?”

Almost immediately, the simple confession takes both of them back, prompting Zayis to clear her throat and continue to drink, feeling her head whirl from the volume of liquor she’s managed to consume over the last few minutes; honing in on the sudden interest in Vesryn’s eyes.

“Can you please stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re fishing for something.”

Suddenly defensive, he scoffs and motions for her to hand over the bottle. “I’m not fishing for anything.”

“Oh please, don’t think I don’t remember how gossipy of a bitch you are.”

All he does is smile, causing her to pinch the bridge of her nose and breathe, trying her best to remain calm. Because foolishly, now that she’s opened the can of worms that is Astarion, it’s like the man’s completely taken over. Seamlessly appearing in every corner of her exhausted mind, she can’t help but wonder how he’d react to this conversation.

Already she can hear him chastising her for skimping out on the details. Having practically memorized the inflections of his voice after years of endurance, she can clearly envision that cheeky little laugh of his. And how the way his hand might feel pressed against her cheek, taking in the frustrated expression that now coats her face.

The same one Vesryn immediately comments on. Pointing in amusement, he ends up asking her why she looks like that, causing her to cross her arms over her chest and shake her head, too stubborn to reveal the truth.

“I see you're as emotionally distant as ever.”

As he speaks, Vesryn just shoots her a knowing glance and slides their shared drink back to her. Barely batting an eye when she takes a few more angry sips.

“Am not.”

“And childish.”

For a moment she thinks about repeating history and grabbing the knife from her holster. But then she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, forcing herself to calm down just as Vesryn laughs.

“Shut up. You’re just saying that so you can get me to talk.”

“Is it working?”

Whether it’s the challenging way he approaches the topic or the familiarity of his presence, it unfortunately is. More so than she cares to admit as she rolls her eyes, opting to avoid the topic by asking him what he’s been up to. Forcing the conversation to pivot as she continues to drink, listening to all the mundane stories of their old life. All the jobs he’s taken and how he’s kept himself busy while she’s been saving the coast.

And for a while, it’s kind of nice focusing on something else. Something simple and disconnected from the reality that she now finds herself in. So much so that she doesn’t even register the empty bottle now in front of her after Vesryn changes the topic again. This time transitioning to her friends.

“You said that Ravengard kid was with you?”

Nodding her head, she then feels the entire room begin to spin around her. Echoing out in a series of waves, it’s as if everything’s begun to slow down. Her mind working to catch up with the rest of her surroundings. Somehow it makes her laugh despite how uncomfortable it is. The kind that Vesryn immediately clocks as an indication of her inebriation, making him sigh.

“Probably shouldn’t have let you drink all that, huh?”

She hums in response and closes her eyes, feeling the weight of everything slowly drift away as her body starts to melt further into the chair.

“How about I go make you a bed?”

“No.”

“No?”

She blinks and laughs, forcing her eyes to focus on her friend. “I want to go home.”

“You are home?”

She shakes her head almost violently. “No, home.”

He doesn’t know that home means camp. Or, more specifically, that home to her is where Astarion is. Nor does he understand the jumble of words that fall from her mouth immediately after. “Zayis, you are way too drunk to be arguing right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying!”

He can’t help but laugh as he stands up, moving towards her to help pull her to her feet. “Saying what?”

“I want to see Fangs,” she whines, and before she knows it she’s being guided towards the door by her old flame’s hands without another word. Tiredly leaning against his shoulder as they walk down the darkened street.

“Where am I taking you?”

Through slurred speech she directs him to her camp, explaining the quickest route with the kind of drunken hand gestures Vesryn can’t help but mock.

“Shut up, I’m drunk.”

“I can tell.”

“And I’m tired.”

“No kidding.”

“I think I might be in love, too.”

At that Vesryn stops walking, causing her to sort of bump into his arm and swear under her breath, grumbling about his lack of coordination before the words she’s uttered circle back to her. Forcing her eyes to widen as her stomach starts to twist, realizing what she’s done. Registering the fact that she just admitted out loud that her feelings are valid and not just ridiculous moments of lust clouding her vision.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Despite the context, Vesryn can’t help but laugh, watching as Zayis begins to breathe with her entire chest. The fabric of her tunic rising and falling in rapid succession as her eyes dart back and forth.

“I think I’m in love with Astarion,” she then says before slamming her lips shut, feeling her face grow hot and her hands begin to sweat. Every part of her body working against her as she suddenly bolts down the street, listening to Vesryn’s footsteps work to keep up.

“Wait a minute, how long has this been going on?”

Unsurprisingly, Zayis ignores him, swearing under her breath when she comes to a street she doesn’t notice, forcing Vesryn to grab her arm and redirect her.

“Do you think he loves you back?”

“I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

She repeats the same answer in frustration, throwing her hands up to cover her eyes, knowing now she’s fucked. Completely and totally fucked because despite knowing how foolish it is to fall in love with someone like Astarion she’s managed to do just that.

“Okay, well do you want to know?”

He asks the question like it’s a simply gained answer. As if asking Astarion about his feelings is something Zayis can do without feeling humiliated.

Because truthfully, she knows if asked, not only would she be met with that teasing voice of Astarion telling her I told you so regardless of the answer, but she’d also be forced to live with the fact that Vesryn was right all along.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

Quickening her pace, she can feel her legs begin to ache from the events of the day. All of the hours of travelling and fighting piling onto her weakened knees as she pushes forward.

Watching her struggle, Vesryn follows behind almost cautiously, trying his best not to hover while remaining close. Well aware at any second she might just fall to the ground thanks to the alcohol.

“I think maybe we should just get you home, yeah? I’m sure your boyfriend is worried sick.”

Before he can even laugh at his poorly timed joke she’s turning to swing her fist at his head, causing him to grab her wrist in annoyance.

“C’mon Punchy, let’s not keep your leech waiting.”

Frowning in response she allows him then to guide her the rest of the way. Keeping his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulder for support, she dizzily latches onto his side, resting her head against his chest. Trying her best to ignore the sickness that resides at the base of her stomach as they continue forward, eventually making it to camp.

“You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

While glaring at Vesryn she can feel her head begin to pound. The space behind her eyes where the tadpole resides ringing out in a painful rhythm of words. All of them loud and irate, saying something she can’t quite understand.

At which point she begins to descend without warning, causing Vesryn to swear and catch her arm, watching anxiously as she moves one hand to her temple.

“Zay?”

When she doesn’t immediately respond he maneuvers her to the ground, kneeling in front of her with nervous hands to hold her face, searching for further signs of distress until she’s completely still again.

“Sorry, that uh, happens sometimes.”

“What?”

“The tadpoles,” she mumbles, brushing his hands away to rub her eyes, feeling the pain still linger behind them but at a much smaller scale. “Sometimes when one of us gets a bit emotional or something they…”

As she trails off with a yawn she attempts to mime the word connection by pressing her index fingers together in front of her. A motion Vesryn thankfully understands, nodding his head in response.

“We don’t—“

The sound of a clearing throat pulls her away from the conversation. Her eyes shifting from Vesryn’s face towards a very pissed-off Astarion now standing in front of them with his hands on his hips.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Instantly, both she and Vesryn jump to speak, their voices fumbling over each other until Zayis eventually turns back and frowns, prompting Vesryn to innocently raise his hands and stand up.

“Ves was just bringing me home.”

“At this hour?” Astarion asks, his voice lower than normal. Angrier even. A rumble of sound emanating from his chest as he crouches down to face her —instantly smelling the drink on her breath. “Wait a minute, you’re drunk.”

“Am not,” she slurs, grinning. Expecting him to grin back or crack some sort of joke. Not shift his jaw and stand as he does, moving towards Vesryn faster than she can think to blink.

“I always knew you were an idiot,” she hears him say, watching him reach for Vesryn’s clothes. Gripping the collar of his shirt with such ferocity that the only sound that Zayis hears after that is the sudden groan her old partner lets out.

Which makes her panic, realizing then that Astarion isn’t just pissed —he’s livid. Red not only in the eyes but also in the face, prompting her to try and stand up only to fall back down thanks to the lightness that travels throughout her head.

“What’d you do to her, huh? Get her drunk and then take advantage of her?”

Trying but ultimately failing to speak over Astarion’s angered assumptions, Zayis eventually opts to reach for the fabric of his pants instead. Pulling at the base of his calf to gain his attention, muttering his name through the mess of sounds until she’s been ushered to her feet by a pair of arms.

“I see the apology’s going well,” Wyll says, and immediately she whips her head to face him in response, taking in the humoured expression across his face before turning back to see the two men being ripped away from each other by Karlach’s brute force. Both of them continuing their attempts at violence.

“This isn’t how we treat our guest, Fangs,” Karlach scolds, but Astarion’s already cursing Vesryn’s name. Using whatever insult he can think of to throw the poor man’s way. Ignoring Karlach’s plea for him to shut up even when she threatens to knock him out cold if he doesn’t behave.

Which only causes more issues when the rest of the camp begins to realize what’s going on. All of them piling out of their tents to watch this ridiculous display of angry men fighting over an issue neither of them really have much control over. Considering Zayis is drunk and now grumbling into the crook of Wyll’s neck trying her best not to cry at the sight of Karlach shoving Astarion towards Lae’zel, it’s obvious that the best thing to do is drop it.

Or at least, put a pin in it until morning. Which is exactly what Gale suggests when he wanders towards Lae’zel’s side, smirking at their not-so-friendly vampire before making some sort of backhanded compliment that has Astarion lunging towards him with a hiss.

“Alright, alright. No need to maim the wizard,” Gale mutters, darting back. “I’m just here for the show not to get roped into any audience participation.”

After that, Zayis hears Wyll sigh in defeat as he runs his palm along the length of his face, trying his best to comfort her as she continues to wrap herself around him, digging her claws into his clothes while her tail grips tightly onto his legs.

“I think we should probably get her some water,” he says, prompting Shadowheart to move towards Vesryn, placing a hand on his shoulder as she asks him if he needs any healing.

While shaking his head he ends up glancing over at Zayis who already looks like she’s dead to the world. Still grumbling incoherently under her breath, it’s as if her mind has been turned to sludge as Wyll drags her over to the fire, placing her gently on the ground. Practically forcing a stream’s worth of water down her throat by the time Shadowheart wanders over, casting whatever restoration magic she’s got left.

“That fool of yours is lucky Karlach showed up when she did,” she mutters, moving to place either hand on Zayis’s face. Allowing the magic to spread through her cheeks like an icy veil, wrapping around heated flesh. Providing the perfect amount of relief for the tadpole behind her eye to settle back into its dormant state.

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Karlach’s taking him home.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Zayis continues to drink through the process. Feeling the water soothe her aching throat as Shadowheart continues to speak, scolding her for being so stupid.

“Gods, I can’t believe you let him get you drunk.”

“I didn’t let him do anything,” Zayis snaps, her eyes narrowing in annoyance, watching as her two friends share an unimpressed look. “I got nervous.”

“And drank an entire bar?”

For some reason that makes Wyll snort, prompting Zayis to reach out and yank his horn, causing the warlock to groan and swat her away. “Hey! She’s right, you know!”

Regardless of whether or not they are, Zayis opts to go silent after. Sitting angrily between the two of them, she lets Shadowheart finish her spell before muttering out a quiet thanks. The kind that Shadowheart almost immediately reciprocates with an unenthusiastic no problem before retreating to her tent. Leaving just herself and Wyll to stew in the awkward silence of her actions as she continues to sip her water. Paying no mind to the curious eyes that dart between the camp and her face, picking apart the expressions that absentmindedly shift the longer she sits.

“So, uh, do you want to talk about what happened or would you rather wallow?”

Earning no response, Wyll sighs, prompting Zayis to look over with a frown. Both of them staring at each other, wishing that she’d just come out and say whatever needs to be said instead of rotting away, pretending like her actions are something other than self-inflicted wounds.

“I promise no judgement, you know.”

“I know. I’m just —I think I should probably talk to him first.”

“Not sure he’s interested in talking.”

Zayis snorts out of habit, moving a hand to rub her eyes, feeling her head swirl. “Fair. I probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”

“I’m sure if you give him time,” Wyll suggests, and even though she knows he’s right all she can feel is the lack of patience beginning to settle in. The undeniable urge to jump to her feet and run to his side almost doubling on impact. The temptation to confess all the thoughts that have plagued her mind over the last few weeks making their presence known.

It forces her to chug a few more glasses of water in silence. Trying her best to remain as rational as possible. Or at least, until she’s able to fully stabilize her thoughts in the form of a pros and cons list that Wyll almost immediately interrupts.

“I know you say you are, but are you truly alright?”

At first, she doesn’t have an answer. Too focused on trying to figure out whether it’s a pro or a con to storm into Astarion’s tent, she hardly registers the words. Instead finding herself at a mental crossroads, debating the level of sobriety needed to confess one’s love before it becomes insulting. But then her mind catches up. Slowly but surely taking in the words. Feeling the genuine curiosity in his voice sound almost paranormal. As if he’s already used the tadpole to burrow into her mind and find the answer for himself.

Not that he’d need to, to know that she’s the opposite of alright.

Even before arriving, she’d been on the absolute edge of sanity. Struggling to choose which battle to tackle first, since entering the walls of Baldur’s Gate it’s felt like she’s been pulled every which way. Slowly becoming stretched to the point of ripping.

Which she wants to admit. But thanks to the guardedness of her brain, all she’s able to say is that she’s tired. That the well within her soul has sufficiently dried up leaving nothing more than a hole in the ground, waiting for its fill once again.

With a sigh, Wyll slides a little closer and nudges her leg, offering support in whatever way he can as she glances at him, silently pleading for advice.

“You need to rest, Zay.”

Genuinely curious, she looks at him with half-lidded eyes. The glassy look of drunkenness still heavily visible. “How?”

“By allowing your problems to run their course rather than trying to direct them yourself.”

Leaning forward, she groans into her hands. The emptiness of her head making it hard for her to understand the riddles Wyll often speaks in. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

Letting out a soft laugh, his hand finds its way to one of her horns to reciprocate that same push from earlier, forcing her to grumble under her breath.

“It means you should go to bed.”

Groaning in response, she debates whether or not to argue, feeling her eyes shift towards Astarion’s tent —feeling that inevitable pull behind her eye, begging for her to curl up against his frame regardless of whatever fight might unfold.

“Okay. But not because you told me too,” she eventually says, and Wyll just smiles and ushers her to her feet, forcing one final glass of water into her hand.

“One more for the road, okay?”

All she does is nod her head and slowly make her way towards the tent. Staring intensely at the ground beneath her, she maneuvers around roots and rocks, trying her best not to let the remnants of leftover inebriation overtake her ability to function.

Which proves easy up until she makes it to the tent. Feeling her vision shift in and out of focus as she attempts to push open the flap, there’s a moment where she sways back and has to catch herself, causing her lips to part into an awkward squeal.

“What the hells are you doing?” Astarion says, and before she can even think to correct her footing she’s somehow pressed against his chest with her glass of water nowhere to be seen. Her body suddenly feeling warm thanks to the way his hands snake around her waist, tightly gripping the flesh beneath her shirt. Reminding her that despite the intimate position she finds herself in, he’s definitely still unimpressed.

“How come you’re mad?”

His eyes narrow, becoming two thin slits of rage that successfully scare her into submission, prompting her to swallow hard and sit up on her knees, feeling his hands tighten even more. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

Following her lead, he forces himself to release her waist in order to lean into her, practically pressing his forehead against hers. “I mean, honestly, do you have any sense of self-preservation or do you just choose to act like an idiot?”

Immediately she blinks, processing his words. Marinating in the meaning until she fully understands. “You know, Vesryn isn’t an enemy —he’s a friend.”

“I’d argue otherwise, but I suppose your choice in friends has always been questionable.”

Feeling the liquor rush through her system, she quickly reaches out to grab his shoulder, steadying herself against the sway that overtakes. Fully pressing her forehead against his despite wanting nothing more than to wrap her hand around his skinny little neck and—

“You didn’t tell me you were going to see him.”

Her mouth opens to respond —to tell him that it doesn’t matter— but then she stops, pulling away to explore the hurt expression across his face. Specifically the focused look within his eyes that fail to falter for even a second.

“I didn’t think I had to.”

“I suppose you don’t but—”

“But what then?”

“But a courtesy would’ve been nice,” he practically snaps. “Or a simple warning at the very least —I think I deserve at least that.”

She looks at him confused then. Unsure what exactly he means, her lips part to ask, watching as his expression slowly matches hers. Both of them staring in anticipation for an answer that never comes.

“You know I just went there to talk, right?” Her voice struggles through the fog that hits her head, causing her to frequently pause between words. “I didn’t go there to do whatever it is you’re…”

Trailing off, she wiggles her fingers, trying her best to insinuate that whatever assumptions he has are wrong. And that he’s being stupid, but she’s too drunk to incorporate that accordingly.

So instead, she just settles for the former, watching the way his nose scrunches up, pulling at his upper lip to reveal the tips of his fangs. An expression that makes her wonder if maybe her words aren’t matching up with her thoughts, prompting her to sigh and move her hands to her face.

“Fuck, I’m too drunk for this.”

“Yeah, that’s becoming apparent.”

For some reason that makes her laugh weakly. “I just… I don’t want to fight anymore. Not for this.”

“Then what do you want to fight for?”

Pushing her hands further into the sockets of her eyes, she feels her head pound in frustration. All of her thoughts piling to the forefront of her mind, screaming at her to settle this once and for all. To tell him that she doesn’t want to fight anymore. To say that, instead of pressing their knives to each other’s throats time and time again, all she wants to do is toss them aside and kiss the scars they’ve inflicted.

But because she’s drunk —because she can’t think without the whole process becoming far more difficult than it should be— all she does is move into him. Allowing her body to speak for itself in the form of a desperate hug, she wraps her arms around his shoulder before he guides her down into the bedroll.

“Alright, easy does it, darling,” Astarion grumbles, his angered tone failing to match the sweetness of his words, prompting Zayis to frown and turn her back to him.

“Don’t call me that. I’m mad at you.”

“Since when?”

“Since you decided to be mad at me for no reason,” she says, causing Astarion to huff as he begins to run his fingers through the roots of her hair —feeling the familiar presence of her tail slowly wrap around his thigh.

“Once again, I’d argue such a statement but clearly you’re too far gone to be able to defend yourself.”

“Fuck you, I can do anything.”

“Agree to disagree.”

“Agree to —shut up, Astarion.”

Releasing a heavy sigh, he reluctantly continues his ministrations despite the abuse. Pressing the pads of his fingers deeply into the base of her skull.

“Go to sleep, Zay. We can fight in the morning.”

In response, she grumbles out in protest. Ultimately failing to convey her disinterest as his fingers lower to the back of her head, following the line of her braid until he hits the end and begins to undo it. Then, with careful hands he works his way back up, feeling her slowly drift beneath his touch.

“Gods, sometimes I wonder if loving you is even worth the headache,” he tells her, unaware of the sliver of consciousness that manages to linger. Even when she nervously stirs at his words, wondering if she heard him correctly.

Because there’s no way he loves her, right? Too focused on what he gains from being around her rather than her herself, there’s not a single chance he cares. That’d be impossible. Unthinkable. An admittance so beyond logic that as she lays there, eyes shut tight, she has to force herself to ignore it. To chalk his strange confession up to the liquor poisoning her mind with outlandish thoughts.

Which thankfully isn’t hard given how drunk she still is. In fact, with very little effort, it only takes a few minutes of Astarion’s fingers moving through her hair to fully render her useless. Her body curling under the blanket, unaware of the restlessness Astarion experiences as the hours pass. Oblivious to the fact that, even before she wakes up, he’s already gone.

Becoming nothing more than a vacant space that leaves her confused when she eventually rolls over hours later, groaning at the pain that rips through her skull, remembering everything that happened. Specifically, the words he may have said to her last night —the ones so far from reality that she can’t help but wonder if it was merely just a figment of her imagination.

Hearing them echo in her mind, she palms the sockets of her eyes and sits up, feeling the aches and pains of the previous hours seep into her bones. Taking refuge in her muscles to the point that not even she can deny how much of a struggle it is to crawl around the sun-kissed tent, searching for the cup of water Wyll gave her last night before downing it in one huge gulp.

Unsurprisingly it feels like a gift from every God combined. A blessing of liquid that provides her with enough energy to shakily crawl through the opening of the tent, squinting at the newfound light that hits her face.

Somehow it’s already sunrise. Even though it felt like she was maybe asleep for a couple of minutes, it’s obvious now that she got at least a few hours in. Something she’s thankful for as she wanders over to the pile of supplies by the put-out fire, rooting through the various bags until she finds a canteen of water.

At which point she begins to drink and aimlessly walk, forcing her tired legs to move through the length of the camp and past the tree line, weaving through the obstacles of nature until she’s standing at the edge of a hill.

Looking up, there’s a moment or two where she debates turning back. But then her body starts to move without warning, pushing her further and further past the threshold of capability she should have after a night of heavy drinking and emotional warfare. Disregarding the burn that envelops practically every fibre of her being until she hits the top.

Then she’s doubling over in pain, on the verge of tears, feeling the desire to give up filter through her determination, making her second guess her actions until she hears someone huff.

“You look like a corpse,” Astarion says. “And not a fresh one either.”

Forcing out a laugh, she squints to see him sitting on a stump a few feet away with a mug of tea in his hand —another at his side like always. “Morning to you, too.”

“Morning.”

His voice is quiet as he turns to look at the rising sun. Ignoring her as she moves toward him, taking the cup that rests beside him into her hands before she sits in its place. “Thanks.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just sips the tea and continues to soak in the light as he often does. Paying no mind to Zayis as she takes a sip of her own, staring at the side of his face.

“Did you rest at all?”

All he does is shake his head.

“When did you leave?”

“Not long after you fell asleep.”

Humming in response, she turns away to look at the sky herself, allowing her mind to drift to last night. Hearing that single word uttered over and over again in her mind until it doesn’t sound like a word at all.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.”

Releasing an annoyed breath, she takes another sip before she continues. “Always does, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

After that, she sees him sort of smirk against the edge of his cup, prompting her to quietly groan and ditch the idea altogether. Feeling the walls of her heart begin to make their way up again —discarding whatever idea might’ve crossed her mind to even think about letting them down in the first place.

Something Astarion immediately notices. Having failed to ask her question, he quickly turns to face her, exploring her features —noticing the sudden lack of curiosity that immediately befalls her face. “That’s it then?”

“What?”

“No question? No pretty little morning argument?”

She looks at him confused, her jaw dropping slightly open.

“Not even a single threat relating to bodily harm?”

“I—“

“My, my, have you gone soft or something, darling?” he asks; his tone changing. Morphing to have this venomous quality, Zayis immediately scoffs at.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns away, pretending like there’s no reasoning behind his words. Acting as if there's no fight to pick despite there very clearly being one.

“You know, if you have a problem with my behaviour you can just come out and say it instead of waiting for me to figure it out myself.”

In response, he lets out quite possibly the fakest laugh she’s ever heard. “I could. Though, we both know that even if you did figure it out, you wouldn’t talk about it anyway. You don’t do emotions.”

“Neither do you.”

“Actually I—“

Without warning she stands up to chuck the mug over the edge of the hill, groaning from the pain of her muscles —trying her best to ignore the way they pull in strange ways as she turns to glare in his direction. “No, you know what? You don’t get to act like an asshole just because you’re mad that I didn’t tell you I was seeing Vesryn!”

“Oh, please, I’m not mad about that!” Standing up, he discards his mug on the stump and takes a step forward. Inserting himself into her space, watching her follow his lead until they’re practically nose to nose. “What I’m mad at is your lack of attention —for your inability to look around and see what you so clearly deserve!”

“Deserve?” Pressing a rough hand to his chest, she forces him back only to step forward, watching his eyes narrow in annoyance —his hands darting out to grip her wrists once she’s close enough. “You think this mistreatment is what I deserve?”

As she struggles against his hold, both of them bare their teeth in frustration. Neither one of them willing to admit their respective thoughts until Astarion’s eventually the first to cave, growling under his breath.

“No, but sometimes I think you believe that,” he says, his voice lowering. The sound of it reverberating through his chest like an avalanche Zay can’t help but stand at the bottom of, wondering when she’ll inevitably perish beneath it.

Because that’s what it feels like sometimes, being around him. Oftentimes while attempting to navigate all the feelings that erupt each time he picks a fight, she has to hear things she doesn’t want to. To listen to the truth time and time again, despite wanting nothing more than to run from it. Almost every time it makes her breathless, hearing the way he picks her soul apart each time she gives him the chance. Feeling fine one moment and lost the next as he continues to speak.

“Is that why you won’t talk to me? Why, despite all the times I’ve confided in you, you refuse to offer the same in return? Because you’re punishing yourself?”

Taking it all in, her gaze flickers down to his hands, watching them slip up her wrists, slowly moving to turn her palms to the sky so that he can gently rest his own on top. Inhaling deeply, it’s as if the weight of them are suddenly all over her body. Pressing roughly against her chest and arms —grabbing hold of her feet so that they keep her in place despite wanting nothing more than to run. To swallow whatever pride she has left and disappear for good.

To pretend like he isn’t working up to some huge confession despite wanting nothing more.

“Zayis?”

“What?”

She doesn’t mean to snap. But regardless, the word comes out like a bite, latching onto his throat. The tips of them diving into his flesh before he can even think to recoil.

It makes him falter for a second. The entirety of his body twitching against the rise of her voice before he eventually puffs back up again, sighing so hard the only thing she feels afterward is the echo of his breath.

“Gods, for once will you just fucking talk to me?” he then pleads, gripping the base of her fingers so tightly she ends up wincing. “Please.”

“What do you want me to say, Astarion? That I’m punishing myself because I’m scared?”

“If that’s the reason, yes!”

“And what if I don’t know the reason?”

“Then—“

Suddenly, she rips her hands from his to move them to her face, pressing the pads of her fingers roughly against her temples. Shakily circling the flesh as she heavily exhales, trying to collect her thoughts as he takes another step forward, tugging her close by the waist. Forcing his fingers beneath the hem of her untucked shirt.

“Tell me then. Are you punishing yourself because you feel guilty for what you’ve done? Or are you punishing me because the mere thought of either of us deserving each other is too much to bear?”

It’s the kind of question that has her fearing for her life. Regardless of how many enemies she’s fought over the past few weeks. As she stares into Astarion’s eyes, watching the deep red rings nearly disappear behind narrowed lids, she has to force herself to stay. Knowing that if she doesn’t, she’ll just wind up back where she started: all alone, wishing just once she could have something real.

Because with Vesryn, it never was. Despite the adoration that still presents itself each time they’re together, that’s all it ever really grew to become. Two people admiring each other for reasons unrelated to love. Not people who fought tooth and nail just to earn the bare minimum. People who, despite everyone telling them to quit while they’re ahead, continued to choose each other above all else.

Which makes looking at Astarion that much harder. As he bears his soul in his own way, asking her for something in return, it makes her realize that the reason she fears so much isn’t because she feels guilty for abandoning Vesryn but because she fears the judgement of it. Always self-critical of her own actions thanks to the scrutiny of her upbringing, it’s hard to look at what’s in front of her and not assume the worst. Considering they already bring out the worst in each other pretty much constantly, it’s obvious there’s always been some reservations. Despite being fully aware of their similarities and the chemistry that presents itself when needed, at all times there always seems to be a voice at the back of her mind telling her she’s stupid for thinking things might work out.

Because honestly, it probably won’t. Not with the way Astarion’s looking at her with those eyes or the way he’s practically clawing at her hips, begging for her to stay. Coaxing her into this false world where the two of them fall in love and get the happy ending neither of them really deserves.

It isn’t realistic. Or truthful in any way, which is why when she speaks she doesn't lie or even coat the truth in honeyed words.

“I don’t feel guilty,” she starts, dropping her hands to gently hold the crook of his elbows —feeling her tail follow behind and absentmindedly slink around his waist. “Ves and I —we weren’t good together.”

“Why?”

She looks away, pursing her lips as he nudges her closer. Pulling her eyes back in almost immediately. Keeping her there with him no matter what. “We never had this.”

“And what is this?”

“Lust? Love? I don’t...”

Trailing off, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, hearing that voice inside her head telling her this is wrong. That he and her and everything shared over the last few weeks has been nothing but a ploy. A tactic used to get what he needs out of her before he—

He interrupts her thoughts by grabbing her chin. Running his thumb along the space just below her lip, he then cocks his head and sort of smiles. “This isn’t just lust, you know,” he tells her, and suddenly it’s like she’s back at the tiefling party again, catching his gaze between moments of mingling, unable to deny the mutual attraction as he inevitably flirts his way beneath her clothes.

“It isn’t?”

Softly, his finger rises to touch her lower lip. Pulling it down ever so slightly, she sees his lips part into a toothy grin that has her heavily breathing, wondering if this is it. The moment she completely falls apart into his arms with no escape plan. The one where he says those magic little words and she falls headfirst into the palm of his hand.

“Not anymore.”

“Then… what is it now?”

Whether it’s because he doesn’t know or he wasn’t expecting her to ask, Astarion’s rendered speechless. With his mouth partially open in surprise, not a sound comes out once the question is asked, prompting Zayis’s stomach to twist into knots so far beyond untangling that she honestly feels like she might pass out.

Because of the sheer anticipation alone, she’s already struggling to breathe. Feeling her lungs begin to cave under the pressure of his silence, she finds herself acting before thinking. Moving before speaking. Granting herself the chance to take matters into her own hands as they rise to cup his cheeks.

Beneath her fingertips, he feels colder than she remembers. Stinging her digits like slabs of carved-out ice, she lets her thumbs trail over the peaks and valleys of his face —exploring the highest points of his cheekbones down to the hollowness of his under-eyes. Memorizing every part with careful hands. Watching his expression change as she begins to lean in, bumping the tip of her nose against his before letting out the shakiest breath that’s probably ever existed.

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s worth the headache,” she then says, feeling his hand slip from her chin to wrap around the back of her head. Both of them moving in to cross the one boundary that’s never been crossed. Neither of them caring that in the process their fangs knock haphazardly together before quickly finding their rhythm.

Which surprises her if she’s honest. After always feeling like they’re on opposing sides, for a moment it doesn’t make much sense to her. As his lips gently shift to slot themselves against hers, it shouldn’t feel this perfect. It should be difficult like everything else. A battle of power and tension. Not easy. Not like she’s breathing or walking or driving a knife into someone’s chest.

No, it should be harder than this. More complicated. A process so painstakingly awful that her mind should be telling her it isn’t worth it and run.

Except she can’t, can she? Not when his hands feel like they’re moulded to her frame —how his palms seem to rest perfectly against her head and hip, still pulling her in. All while slowly devouring her mouth with careful nips and licks that have her practically clawing for more. Her hands exploring his neck and hair, unable to choose which spot to settle into.

It makes him grin against her, prompting her to frown in response, not sure why he finds the act so funny. Or why he ends up pulling away so quickly afterward, brushing away loose hairs that have fallen in front of her face.

“Bit rude of you to throw my own words back in my face like that.”

Almost angrily she reaches down to grip the collar of his shirt, attempting to shut him up with another kiss but failing when he grabs her wrist.

“Greedy little thing.”

“Shut up.”

In response, he hums in amusement and leans in to graze her ear with his lips. “One taste and you’re already begging for more, hm?”

“Gods, you’re insufferable.”

“And you’re just pathetic, aren’t you?”

His lips peel into a smirk that has her angrily maneuvering him back to her mouth, digging her fingers into the roots of his hair as well as his shirt —ignoring the way he laughs through another hum while giving in.

A laugh that has her heart foolishly swelling against her ribcage, threatening to burst as he begins to drag her down towards the ground, neither one of them caring how the dirt instantly clings to their clothes or how itchy the grass feels against their exposed skin, because right now, all they care about is this. These somewhat tender moments spent discarding shirts and pants —both of them awkwardly laughing through the mess of limbs that bump against each other in the process.

Somehow, all of it feels too good to be true. Having waited years to properly feel his hands trailing up the length of her spine and his teeth nipping at her flesh as she rests on top, it feels like a projection of her desires come to life. The way he palms the back of her head, guiding his mouth to a particularly supple part of her neck.

It immediately makes her eyes flutter shut, waiting for the moment he decides to strike. Becoming nothing more than teeth and hands working to take their fill. As she lies on top of him, breathing so hard she’s certain she's probably damaged her lung in the process, she can feel his tongue teasing the area. Poking out to coat her skin in saliva before he presses another opened-mouth kiss and pulls away.

“Can I?” he asks, and before she can even think she’s nodding mindlessly. Allowing whatever he wants to happen because the fight’s died out. Whatever need she once had to hold power over him lost the moment he smiles and kisses her lips, sucking away her air before he does the same with her blood.

At which point she’s almost certain she’s going to pass out. With the lack of oxygen and now that familiar pain plunging into the side of her neck, it’s a miracle that she’s still able to stabilize her body. As he begins to push in, she can’t help but jump from the contact, realizing how different it feels in comparison to something like her wrist.

Because despite having experienced the sharpness of his teeth followed by the languid lapping of his tongue against far less intimate places, this feels completely different. More euphoric and intense —something she has to push through as the pain begins to meld into pleasure as the seconds pass.

Which isn’t all that difficult. Not when they’re holding onto each other for dear life, every so often shifting to get a better angle. Moaning under their breaths for different reasons despite sharing the experience. No longer trying to suppress the feelings that stir when Astarion inevitably pulls away, dripping in blood that she immediately moves to wipe away.

“You eat like a starved boar,” she says, trying not to giggle at the way he chases her blood-stained fingers, somehow still desperate for more.

“And you moan like a banshee.”

“I do not!”

Without warning he begins to mock the sound of her voice, throwing his head back, causing her to press her palm fully over his mouth.

“Do you ever stop?”

His voice doesn’t carry through her hand so she reluctantly drops it, giving him a pointed look only to receive another grin. “Only if you want me to,” he then says, and almost immediately she feels her face begin to heat up, realizing that she doesn’t. That instead of stopping and taking a second to talk or even breathe all she wants is more.

So, she responds with another kiss. Not caring about the taste of her blood on his lips or the desperate way she falls slack against his chest, feeling him twitch against her. As she licks the seam of his mouth right open, hungrily pushing her tongue to meet his own, she doesn’t care that he’s adjusting her hips. Grabbing hold of her flesh to position her over the tip of his cock.

With nothing but the sensations of their bodies hurriedly working to become one, she hardly registers anything other than the head teasing her folds, failing to fully enter since she keeps squirming. Something she doesn’t register until he bites her lip a bit too hard, prompting her to pull away and narrow her eyes, watching him frown.

“Stop moving,” he says, but like always she ignores him, moving whatever way her body decides is right until he’s angrily groaning and turning them over, pinning her against the grass. “Brat.”

“Asshole.”

He leans in to steal another kiss while using his hands to hold down her hips, feeling her grind against him. “Thorn in my side,” he mutters.

His voice vibrates against her mouth in a way that has her absolutely reeling. Forcing her hands to dip down to his chest, tracing the carvings of his muscular structure as her tail wraps tightly around his thigh.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” Somehow he sounds surprised. “Is that a genuine compliment?”

“Maybe.”

He hums and releases one of her hips, moving to grip his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes before lining himself up again. “Care to grace me with another one?”

Once again teasing her entrance, she finds herself shifting upwards, chasing the high of him. Following his sex in absolute misery trying to get him to give in without the need for praise.

“Or perhaps I should give that mouth something else to do?”

Before she can even think of a clever response he’s moving in. Slowly dragging through her, making sure that the process of it all is almost painful due to its lack of speed. Stretching her out, there’s a brief moment where she has to reach for his arms. To tether herself to him in some other way as he moves just shy of the hilt, leaning down to grin.

“I’m not hearing any words coming out of that mouth of yours.”

At first, she breaths, adjusting to the feeling of him slipping inside. Trying her best not to focus on the way she instinctively clenches around as she grits her teeth.

“C’mon now,” he coos. Then ever so slightly he pulls back, dragging the pleasure out of her throat in the form of a moan.

“Fuck, I love you,” she says, and immediately they both freeze. Neither one of them able to fully register the words until she opens her mouth again, stuttering out an apology. Scrambling to sit up and backtrack only to find herself being pinned back down and taken over.

Before she can even think the wicked snap of his hips quickly becomes enough of a distraction to forget what she just said. Thanks to the way he abruptly pushes and pulls only to slow it all down, it’s as if the regret evaporates into thin air. The phrase itself turning nothing more than a memory as she lets her hands roam across his back.

Now pressed against her, she feels his palm circle around to the base of her spine to create an arch. Providing both of them with a more comfortable angle for him to rut inside her, hardly caring that his pace has fallen out of time. No longer thinking about the finer details.

Moving in tandem, their lips part so that she can finally breathe, showcasing the stains of blood that cover the lower half of her face, prompting Astarion to smile.

“You’re perfect,” he tells her. “Better than perfect.”

And in the moment, she’s tempted to ask what that means. Or to poke some sort of fun in return, but there’s too much happening. The overwhelming sensations of his cock and hands and the way her entire stomach jumps at the sound of his words becoming far more important than her habit of gaining the last word.

Which only helps build the tension between her thighs. As he continues to jut forward only to slip back, suddenly there’s an additive of movement against her clit. The presence of trailing knuckles brushing, moving much slower than his hips.

Almost lazily, they glide across her nerves in circles, steadily adding to the collection of pressure. Forcing the pulsing stack of pleasure she feels to become too much as she lets out a pathetic whine.

It’s the kind that has him falling apart. No longer able to keep any sort of pace at all, it’s as if he’s suddenly lost in the dark, struggling to maintain the path set out before him. Forgetting all about past instincts as drops to her chest, kissing her face and neck —licking away remnants of blood before continuing down.

“Don’t stop,” she says, and even though she wouldn’t put it past him for doing so out of spite, she’s thankful he doesn’t. Instead, discarding all semblance of sense to guide her over the edge.

Applying a rough bite to the top of one of her breasts, it’s at that moment that Zayis feels the scales tip in her favour. Manifesting in violent tremors that wreak havoc throughout her body, it’s as if she’s lying against the shore, letting the waves lap at her skin. Allowing their strength to pull her in without protest.

Still above her, she can feel Astarion continuing. Too wrapped up in the feeling of her walls contracting on instinct, he sometimes falters but refuses to quit. Unable to stop even when she’s trying to pull away, the sensation of her orgasm becoming too much.

Because the feeling of that combined with the way he’s touching her —the way he’s pressed against her, practically consuming her skin with his sharp teeth— is hedonistic. An act of pure indulgence that has her joining it, allowing her tail to tangle around his waist as he continues to fuck her through her climax. Forcing her fingers to find a home in his hair, coaxing sweet sounds of pleasure from his pretty little lips.

“Come for me,” she tells him then, pressing a kiss to his head, watching his neck crane upwards to capture her gaze as he heeds her call, quickly spilling out inside her cunt. No longer able to suppress the shakes that rattle against her thighs, she lets out a soft laugh.

Which prompts him to look up at her in confusion after he’s finally settled down. Noticing the warmth of her features just staring at him. “What?”

Almost immediately, she bites back a grin, trying her best not to make some obscene sound when he eventually slips out of her and falls to her side. “Nothing.”

Now on his back against the grass, he narrows his eyes at the sky above before glancing back over, shaking his head at her comment. Reaching out to playfully smack her face to the side before releasing a sigh.

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he says, staring at her face —watching it quickly dart his way with widened eyes and parted lips. An obvious lack of thought gracing her mind until everything comes flooding back.

Then all at once, every reservation disappears. Every hesitation or doubt ceasing to exist the moment she sees the subtle smirk that spreads. How it renders her beyond uselessness, unable to reply let alone breathe.

“Rendered speechless?” he then teases, using what little energy he has left to prop himself up and lean over her, brushing his nose against hers. Letting the skin-on-skin contact further fluster her system. “That’s new.”

Greedily, she raises her head to kiss him. “So is telling me you love me.”

“So is…”

He trails off, unable to come up with a viable answer, prompting her to smirk back.

“Gotcha.”

In response he reaches down to pinch her hip, making her squeal. “Careful now or I might put that mouth to better use.”

“Mm, maybe you should,” she teases, but before he can respond there’s a rustle in the bushes, prompting them both to stop in their tracks as they look down the path, noticing a familiar elf stepping towards them.

Which makes Zayis swear under her breath. Pushing Astarion away, she hears him make a sound of disappointment as she scrambles for her clothes, tossing her tunic over her head before moving to stand —stopping at her knees when she sees Halsin look their way.

“Ah, I see you two have decided to patch things up the old fashioned way,” he comments, smiling between the two of them. Failing to care about the state of their dress before he continues to walk past them with the gentle wave of his hand, causing Astarion to snort.

“You know Halsin doesn’t—“

She tosses her pants at his head before he can finish, grumbling in embarrassment as he throws the fabric aside, once again pinning her against the grass with a rough kiss.

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(tags continued in reblogs)

#only fools fall #astarion x tav #astarion x original female characer #astarion x fem oc #zaystarion #knife fight #summer writes

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liyawritesss · 1 year

Text

ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ʏᴏᴜ

Characters: MCU!Riri Williams x Shy!Black!Fem!Reader

Type: Fic

Word Count: 5.3k

Synopsis: You’ve always been the type to let your mind run frantic. But when a certain girl asks you out for a day on the town, you find yourself slowing down and taking in the beauty of living in the moment.

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of drug use (cannabis), one of reader’s exes was a guy

A/N: Just something cute inspired by the song “Slow Down” by Skip Marley and H.E.R. It’s been stuck in my head for the longest and the music video just SCREAMS Riri so I had to do a lil sumn sumn for my girlfriend. Hope yall enjoy! Suggested songs to listen to when reading: “Slow Down” by Skip Marley ft. H.E.R., “Right Track” by Syd ft. Smino, “oui” by Jeremih.

Tags: @inmyheadimobsessed @badass-dora-milaje @babyboiboyega @verachii @heartsforjojo @letitias-fav @kingstormpostsshit @shurismainbxtch @zayswriting @rxcently @nzia-writes @writingintheshadowsforever @hufflehans @kokichiis7 @xxmilli @typicalme13 @zestgodtj @generallysapphic @ziayamikaelson @shuriszn @percsane @justariellove @n7cje @mbakuetshurisprincess

You knew you would regret coming to this party.

This kind of scene was never your cup of tea. You weren’t a fan of dancing, or loud music, or getting so drunk that the only thing on your mind was finding someone to grind with on the dance floor. You’d barely drunk the heavily diluted liquor in your red solo cup, finding the watered down burn of the beverage displeasing to your throat. The dim green lights that danced across the numerous bodies on the dance floor did you more of a favor by obscuring your position against the wall, as you didn’t want to be disturbed by anyone. You were comfortable against the wall, away from sweaty bodies and the heavy stench of alcohol and the mingling perfumes, colongues and pheromones that danced in the air.

You were here for a friend, but as you watched them get swept away by another party goer to continue their more than inappropriate grinding in secret, you were left virtually alone, made to endure the loud, bass-heavy music and overwhelming amount of people by yourself.

You ran a hand through your faux locs, some of them adorned with gold ornaments, brushing the long locks of hair to rest over your left shoulder, leaving the right one bare and shining underneath the green lighting. Your outfit wasn’t extravagant or eye catching, as you didn't want to be quite noticeable at this sort of engagement. A simple black crop top covers your chest and ends just under your rib cage, and just under your belly button is the elastic band of your leggings, which are black as well. An oversized white sweater rests around your frame, much of the material bunched up on your arms with your hands barely peeking out of the sleeves, and matching white Air Force One’s decorate your feet. The hands that hold your red solo cup are adorned with a variety of silver rings, your nails a simple coffin shaped, matte brown color, and on your neck rests a stainless steel chain that could be mistaken for that of a cuban link chain at first glance.

You’d seemingly done everything in your power to concoct an outfit that would not get you noticed, but there’s a pair of eyes from across the room that challenges that theory. And it's in one of your scans of the room that you make contact with those eyes, and for a moment, your breath stills as you realize that this person is staring right at you. They’re staring right at you, and it looks like they have been for a while.

She’s standing on the opposite end of the room, and you can just barely see her as she stands on some elevated part of the floor, her body visible from the torso up, the rest being obscured by the many dancing bodies. She, too, has a red solo cup in hand, and she’s holding her firm gaze while she takes a sip from it. Her hair is done in neat cornrows, a few of them laying over her shoulders. She has on a white cropped tank that fits tight on her chest, and from what you can tell through the dancing heads that hide the rest of her body, blue ripped jeans that are high waisted and fit her curves just right.

She was very pretty, you had to admit, but the thought of her eyes finding you of all people is what caused your mind to start racing. Did she know you? Did you know her? Did she know your friend, and in extension, you? You cast your eyes aside as your mind began to come up with so many different questions and rationalizations to explain why she could have been eying you down, how long had she been doing so. You’d gotten so caught up in your head that you hadn’t noticed that the girl from across the room disappeared from her spot on the adjacent wall. Instead, she was coming to take up a spot next to you.

Out of your peripheral vision, you watch her walk towards you. It’s not a pace out of haste, but not one of caution either. She seems skillful in her approach, as if she had done the same many times before. It has you questioning the exclusivity of the occurrence, but seeing as you don’t know much about her, other than the fact that she’s extremely attractive and seems to have taken some sort of interest in you, you decide to push that thought into the back of your mind. You watch carefully as as she comes closer to you, eventually stopping next to you, and the sheepish grin that graces her lips makes your breath hitch in the slightest.

“Hey,” she says, just loud enough for you to hear her above the thundering music, “you looked lonely over here. Want some company?”

Perhaps there was a time a few moments ago when you would have rather been left alone, but now that she’s right in front of you, the resolve to say ‘no’ gets caught in your throat. Instead, you allow her to make herself comfortable next to you on the wall, and she’s so close that you can feel the heat of her caramel-toned skin against your own. There’s a sense of bashfulness building up in your body that you can’t push down, no matter how hard you try to remain calm and collected with this beauty that stands next to you.

“There a reason why you holdin’ up the wall?” She questions, and you realize that fuck, she’s talking to you, and you have to answer her in a normal tone, and not the high-pitched, childlike one that normally comes out when your shyness taks over.

“Just not used to this whole thing,” you admit, taking while releasing the breath you had been holding, “I was originally here with a friend, but they, um…went somewhere else.”

The mystery-pretty-girl catches on quickly to what you’re insinuating, her head bobbing up and down with a nod of understanding. “Well, that ain’t no good friend. No dick is worth leavin’ yo homegirl out to dry like that.”

She’s right, and you know she is, but you still find a way to rationalize your friend’s behavior, “Could be worse. They could’ve left completely and left me here.”

“Can’t imagine why anyone would leave someone as cute as you alone,” and for the third time tonight, you feel your breath get caught in your throat, and for the first time, there’s an intense heat that’s creeping up your neck and flooding your face. The dim lighting and the depths of your melanated skin are a blessing, because you’re sure that without either, you’d be as bright as a strawberry. The suddenness of her flirtation brings from you a sheepish chuckle, and despite the current setting, it’s almost as if the world is beginning to fade away, slowly but surely, the more that this myster-pretty-girl is in your presence.

For a moment, the mystery-pretty-girl pauses in thought. She brings her bottom lip between her teeth for a split second, before letting it go, and instead raising her free hand to yours. “Name’s Riri.” She introduces, and you take her hand hesitantly. They’re the same size, not counting the additional centimeters added on by your acrylics, and they’re soft with a gentle scent of shea butter on them.

“(Y/N).” You reply, and it causes Riri to smile again.

“Pretty girl with a pretty name. That checks out, I guess.” She says, and you find yourself giggling again, abashed.

“You say this ain’t your scene?” Riri questions.

You nod in response, your finger tapping against the red solo cup in an attempt to ground yourself as you’re being forced to hold Riri’s intense eye contact.

“No. I came as a favor,” you clarify, “I’d rather be at home. In my bed. Reading or watching TV. But I owed my friend a favor, so here I am.”

“Yeah, and they ain’t,” Riri reiterates, “but I am. I’on know about your friend, but I ain’t gon’ let nothin’ happen to you, ma,” and it’s when she calls you that very dangerous pet name that you feel an insatiable pool of butterflies begin to violently flutter in your stomach. Riri is making it hard to stay calm and collected, and even hard to keep down the smile that is so insistent on making a home on your lips.

“That’s very sweet of you,” you commend, and it is, but you believe that there’s a hidden agenda behind those sweet words. You were no stranger to flirting, despite not having been flirted with yourself or you flirt with anyone, but you know when someone is applying pressure. And Riri was doing just that, leaving your question to be ‘why?’

“So you were so worried about my safety that you were staring at me for a good minute across the room?” You question the other, a sudden sense of confidence surging through your veins. Maybe it’s the heavily diluted alcohol finally catching up to you, or maybe it’s because you find your body relaxing in the presence of Riri. “So worried that you came up to talk to me?”

“Damn, you makin’ it seem like I’m a creep or somethin,” Riri laughs, and it’s such a sweet sound that fills the air around you, drowning out loud music, “I just thought you were cute. Wanted to shoot my shot.”

Oh.

You didn’t expect that. Neither the confession, nor the bluntness of it. It causes the same raging heat from before to make its way back to your face, burning your ears and making your breath hitch. It’s futile to even try to come up with a witty retort, because the moment you open your mouth, you begin to stutter out incoherent noises. Your bashful nature causes Riri to laugh, this time it's a bit louder, even drawing the attention of some nearby partygoers. You try to shield yourself by raising the red solo cup to your lips, reluctantly downing a gulp of the watery alcohol and letting the dull sting of it trickle down your throat as a wake-up call to what was happening.

“Okay, that was funny-”

“It definitely was not-”

“-and cute as hell-”

“-also definitely was not-”

Your little back and forward ceases when Riri brings her red solo cup to her own lips, downing a gulp, and once she’s done, the faint smell of something fruity wafts through the air. It smells way better than the diluted dark liquor you acquired hours ago, and you wonder if it tastes any better. You find yourself looking at Riri’s lips as you think this, which she takes every opportunity to point out.

“You ain’t gotta be shy about kissing me,” the brown-haired girl said, and her lips curled into this shit eating grin as she watched you realize that she picked up on where your eyes were. You were sure that she was also catching on to your timid nature and just the right buttons to push to turn you into a spluttering mess. And you couldn’t tell if you despised just how easy she was able to read you, or if you were enjoying that she was learning you.

“That is the last thing I want to do right now.” You retort, a slight tone of amusement in your voice. It was a slight fib. Her lips did look very kissable right now, but you were not about to give in to her temptation.

“Okay, fair. You’re a ‘kiss after the first date’ type of girl. I can get with that.”

“You’re really laying it down, aren’t you?”

“What can I say? When I see what I like, I apply the pressure accordingly.”

And the proof was in the way she had you pressed against the wall, her arm propped to the side of your head, holding her at just the perfect distance from your face, one that made you want to close the gap, but refuse to be the first to do so.

“And do you say that to all girls you come across at parties like this?” You respond, biting your lip in curiosity. There was absolutely no way that someone like her was so smooth with words just on the first go. Riri had to have spoken like this to other girls, otherwise, how could she have learned this so easily?

“Nope,” Riri answers, which causes you to frown slightly, “cuz ain’t no girl got me so sprung I went up to them to shoot my shot.”

“I don’t think I believe that,” you retorted, a bit of sass in your voice.

“Aight, then, lemme take you out,” Riri proposes, “and I’ll show you better than what I can tell you.”

You weren’t sure where your friend was now, and you would feel bad about not caring in the morning. Right now, the world of the party you were at had just died around you, and in its place, the mystical that was Riri Williams took its place.

You were starting to regret agreeing to this date with Riri Williams.

You'd been waiting inside the train terminal for thirty minutes passed the original meet up time. At 10 minutes, you chalked it up to the shitty transportation that was the Chicago Transit Authority. The trains never ran on time these days, and when they did, there were always unnecessary pauses for CTA police personnel to have their German shepherds sniff in each car to catch an unsuspecting dealer switching through cars with their signature chants. At 20 minutes, you checked your phone for any response to your messages, and you were becoming less and less shocked that the messages would have 'ready displayed underneath them, or an appearance of the three dots signifying she was typing, but a response never came in. It was now at the 30 minute mark, and you were beginning to think the worst.

Was this a joke? Some inhumane prank she thought was funny to play? A huff leaves your lips, the puff of air blowing away your faux loc from in front of your eyes to the side of your face. You could feel yourself getting emotional from the thought of being stood up. You were no stranger to the feeling of rejection, it was an emotion you had become quite familiar with in high school, but you’d allowed yourself to give Riri Williams, some random girl from South Shore, a chance to woo you because you thought you felt something when she spoke those words to you at that party last night. Perhaps it was the alcohol talking, you rationalize. Perhaps it was being under the influence that provoked the other girl to strike up a conversation with you, to speak smooth words and sweet nothings in your words over the loud bass of the music that still left rhythm in your veins, even after a good night’s rest.

You checked your phone once again - still radio-silence from the other woman’s end. You closed your eyes, heaving another sigh of defeat.

The sound of rushing commuters echoed throughout the terminal hall, people brushing by, exiting and entering the toll thresholds as they paid their fare in a rush for the train. The loud footsteps and voices clouded your thoughts, you didn’t even hear Riri approaching. It was her touch that brought you back to reality - it shocked you a bit, given the current place you were standing, one just doesn’t touch someone on the CTA without announcing their presence first.

“Yo, hey, chill, it’s just me!” Riri rushes out as you come down from preparing your defenses when you realize who had come up to you. While you returned to your dormant position, your face still held disappointment, and Riri caught on to it instantly.

“I’m sorry I’m late, the trains have been shit today,” she says, “and then the bus to even get to the 79th train station was delayed.”

You were, at the most, glad it was nothing too serious, but your face was still in a frown. “You could have texted me back, you know,” you respond, “it’s not good date etiquette to leave the girl you asked out on read. Have her thinkin’ you stood her up ‘nd shit.”

“I know. That’s my fault, that’s all on me,” Riri owns, and it’s here that you’re able to finally take in her appearance. She’s got on this oversized sweatshirt that’s a pretty forest green color that compliments her skin. It’s paired with a pair of baggy blue jeans with various rips in the fabric, and a pair of green kicks to match. A gold chain rests on her chest, drawing the outfit together. It’s simple, but on her, she makes it look like it’s a part of some fashion designer's latest collection.

The heat that rushes up your body makes your own sweater seemingly unbearable. If your skin tone had been anywhere near the cream color of your sweater, your shyness would have been given away instantly. It seems you aren’t the only one who has taken the time to admire your shared choice of clothing, as Riri steals a once-over of your attire, stopping briefly at the rips in the jeans on your thighs, revealing the plush skin, and smile.

“You look cute,” she compliments.

You swallow the squeal that begs to leave your throat, “s-so do you.”

“Look at us, already cute together.” Riri hums, and the shiver that makes its way up your spine is unavoidable, because her subtle insinuation and the tone of her voice has you thinking about how the date would end before it could even begin.

Riri takes your hand into hers and leads you up the stairs and out of the train terminal, the crisp spring air revitalizing your lungs from the stuffy stench of trash and filth that clings to the underground terminal. You notice a few notable stores the minute the two of you break view - the gothic Target that’s directly to your right with two floors ready to be explored, the Jacks off 5th that’s across the street, the Zumiez that is also across the street and a little ways behind you, and a Foot Locker next to the Jacks.

You were no stranger to these stores, having eyed them every time you’d come downtown with your friends just to walk around and window shop. You were broke highschool kids, who’s only fun was walking aimlessly along State Street, eying the window displays and imagining yourself having the money to buy the things you wanted. You would’ve been happy window shopping like all the times before, but it seems that Riri has other plans.

“I’on know about you,” she begins, as the two of you cross the ever-busy street, “but I need me a new pair of shoes. So first stop is Foot Locker.”

You barely get a chance to resist, because before you know if, you’re in the store, and the associates greet Riri as if she’s a regular. You stiffen a little, your hold on her hand tightening at the new environment you found yourself in.

“Hey, you alright?” Riri whispers as she drags you along with her to one of the wall displays, thankfully one that seems to be isolated.

“Yeah,” you fib, biting your lip, “I mean - I don’t exactly have Foot Locker money, but-” yet the moment you see the look on Riri’s face, your words trail off, and the feeling of embarrassment begins to fill you.

“If I remember correctly, I was the one taking you out, right?” Riri asks.

“Yeah, but-”

“-and if I asked you out, what kind of date would I be if I let you spend your own money?”

“Riri,” you whisper-yell, her words beginning to hit you, “you are not spending hundreds of dollars on me for a pair of shoes!”

“What was that?” The other woman hummed in response, feigning cluelessness, furthering your frustration, “You said this pair of shoes is cute?”

She picks up a pair of black high-tops, one that has a big white tag on it that reads two hundred-fifty dollars, and your eyes nearly bulge out of your head. “I swear to god, Riri-”

“-y’know, these do look nice as hell,” she comments, completely ignoring you at this point, and there’s a whine that’s pushing against your throat, begging to be released, but you suppress it with all your strength, “now are you gonna keep arguing with me, or are you gonna let me actually date you?”

In the short amount of time you’ve talked to her, you’ve come to realize that arguing with Riri Williams was futile in every attempt. She would win every single time, in some way, shape, or form, and to refute her would cause you your own headache. Remembering your observation, you all but sigh, giving in to her antics, and Riri’s lips carry a smile of victory.

She asks for your size and you give it to her, with no resistance. Almost an hour later, and the two of you leave the store with a bag each - you having the one pair of high tops Riri had brought your attention to earlier, and her two pairs of shoes she said were new additions to her collection. She’s a sneakerhead, you deduce, and imprint this new information into your brain for recollection later.

After Foot Locker, the inevitable rumble of your stomachs leads you to a nearby Subway, of which the two of you bunker down for a moment to eat and get to know each other.

“So you’re an engineer?” You question after taking a bite of your sandwich. “Anything specific?”

“Nothin’ much, really,” Riri replies, speaking through the mush of food in her mouth, covered by her hand. She continues after swallowing, “I do some robotics here and there. I be buildin’ people’s shit for classes, it’s a good side gig. Honestly, though, I just make whatever comes to mind.”

You were indifferent to the world of math and science and technology, but the way Riri speaks about it, it sounds like STEM became her saving grace. She has a passion for it, and you admire it. You admire her.

“That’s fuckin’ amazing,” you murmur in response, “I mean, I can’t tell an expression from an equation, but I can tell that you talk like you love it. Not just for the money, but you actually love what you do. A lot of people can’t say that.”

Riri shrugs, chugging down a sip of her drink before she speaks again, “I been doin’ it since I was a baby; if it ain’t love for this shit, I can’t tell you what it would be that drives me. That money do be a good motivator though.” And the both of you laugh, and it is deep and boisterous and genuine.

The next stop on your day on the town is to Block 37 - a five story mall building with various shops, food spots, and a cinema on the top floor. Riri takes you to Banana Republic, and tells you to look around to your heart's content. As much as you want to fight her on it, the look in her eyes immediately shoots you down, and so, the pair of you begin to look around at the various racks and shelves of items.

“You don’t go on many dates, do you?” Riri suddenly asks. You could reply with some witty remark, but the fact of the matter is that Riri’s words are true.

“Not really,” you admit, “I’m not exactly the first option for people.”

Your experience within the dating field is very limited. You weren’t as outspoken, confident, and alluring as some of your friends. You were the wallflower, the shy, quiet girl who never caught the eyes of the people you wanted. You were content with that label, as you had come to accept your position a long time ago. So to say you were a bit shocked that Riri even asked you out, and actually meant it, was a little bit of an understatement.

Riri saves her next question for when the two of you find refuge on a bench in Millenium Park. It’s a slightly secluded area, with the bushes obscuring the both of you and giving you a sense of privacy.

“Okay, now I’m curious,” she begins, and you can already tell she’s about to ask something absurd, “have you ever had another girlfriend?”

“I’ve had other partners,” you answer, “doesn’t mean they were necessarily good, though.”

You lean back into the wooden seat, eyes directed upwards to the blue sky, puffy white clouds slowly floating by. “Before I was out, I dated a guy. Horrible experience, zero out of ten, would not recommend. Then during my phase of questioning, I was talking to this one girl, and she practically led me on for the entire time we were talking. And aside from them, I haven't had any other experiences.”

The first guy you dated was during your freshman year. Thinking back on it, you probably couldn’t consider the engagement a relationship, as he never claimed you, and entertained other girls during the time you were supposed to be together. You’d been the one to ask him out, and you’d been the one to break things off.

The second girl you dated during the summer of your sophomore year of college - not too long ago, actually - was the person to help you realize your sexuality. That was the only thing that came out of that situationship. Perhaps it was the aura, the appearance, the smooth words or her demeanor that drew you to her. You couldn’t confidently say that the emotion you felt for her was love, but it was something closely akin to it. Which made it all the more painful when you ended the engagement after a long period of consideration, because while it killed you to hate her for the way she toyed with your feelings, loving her would have truly murdered you.

Riri takes notice of the somber look on your face. It makes her wonder just how wrongful were you treated by these prior suitors, how they had fumbled your heart and left you as this timid, weary person, nervous at the idea of someone genuinely finding interest in you.

“Well, they sound like assholes,” she remarks, and you snort at her conclusion, “and that they don’t know something good when it’s in front of them.”

“And what, you do?” You shoot back playfully, and although your words were supposed to come off as a joke, Riri’s face displays a seriousness you hadn’t seen until now.

“I wouldn’t have asked you out if I was just tryna fool around, ma.” she confesses. It takes you slightly by surprise - this is the second time she has expressed her interest in you.

“Then what are your intentions?” You question, fiddling with the sleeves of your own sweater. Did you have doubts that Riri was taking you seriously? Of course. You met at a house party, of all places. What percentage of couples who met at house parties actually stay together for the long term? You were sure it wasn’t a large number. What could she have possibly seen in you in less than twenty-four hours that captivated her so intensely?

“I wanna date you,” Riri says, matter of factly, “wanna make you mine. Ain’t that the purpose of dating? To get to know each other and see if we’re compatible?” And for the second time since you’ve met her, Riri Williams has you completely speechless with her straightforwardness.

“I mean, yeah, when I saw you at that party, I saw a pretty face standing alone on the wall; I had to come shoot my shot,” the engineer confesses, “but I’m vibin’ with you. You’re cute, you’re funny, and we match energies. You’re down to earth and you’ve got a mind of your own. I like that, and I like you.”

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you were being cooked in an oven by the way the intense heat from your bashful nature took over your being. You had never experienced a confession of this caliber before - much less one at all. You shy up instantly, your voice getting lost in the incoherent noises that were begging to be released from your throat. Riri Williams has yet to not amaze you.

“Th-That’s nice and all,” you begin, pursing your lips together, darting your eyes away, “but that’s hardly a decision I can make just off one date.”

“Then lemme take you on some more,” Riri chirps, finding the solution to your faux dilemma easily, “I’m not asking you to make a split second decision right now. I’m just saying - gimme a shot, and I’ll show you that you ain’t gotta overthink about how I feel about you. Let me get to know you.”

You turn your gaze back to the girl sitting next to you, and for the third time since you’ve met her, Riri Williams has you speechless. But as you think about the initial proposal, the idea that Riri took her time to observe you, and would continue to learn you voluntarily, because she did like you, makes your heart flutter in a way it hadn’t done so in years. Perhaps it’s a proposition you could entertain, you think, as a small smile makes its way to your lips.

“What kind of dates would you take me on?” You ask, your voice a bit lower, and you don’t even notice that your body begins to leave in to the space between the two of you. It a cute act of flirting, Riri deduces, and she reciprocates your movements, leaning closer into you as she responds.

“Whatever you wanna do, ma,” She murmurs to you, “I’on think you’re the party kind of girl. I can tell you like lowkey shit…at home dates, that kinda stuff.”

“I do like me a good movie marathon,” you chuckle, and due to some unknown burst of confidence, you’re able to hold her intense eye contact, chocolate brown irises staring into each other. You catch Riri’s eyes darting from your eyes to your lips in a swift motion. The sudden burst of confidence grows in you, taking your bottom lip between your teeth, a little bit of mischief climbing its way up your throat.

“You ain’t gotta be shy about kissing me,” you mutter, recalling the use of those very words by her the night prior.

Your words cause Riri to chuckle as her eyes dart to your lips again. She sucks her teeth, “Got a nigga to confess to you and now you actin’ bold.”

But she’s not complaining, not in the slightest, and neither do you when she leans in a little bit more, closing the gap between the two of you. It’s a dangerous near touch, your lips barely ghosting against each other. She’s holding back, you think; her hesitancy asking you for permission to proceed. But instead of giving her a signal, you take the leap - reaching up in the slightest manner to close the centimeter gap between the two of you, locking your lips together in a kiss that sends your stomach into a frenzy. Riri’s hand travels to the side of your neck, holding you there and erasing anything thoughts you had of pulling away. It’s mind numbing, the way the pads of her fingers press so gently against your skin, pressing more of you into her, and the way she tastes of cherry carmax and mint.

The world slows around you, and for the first time, your mind isn’t racing with doubts or questions. And you quite like this feeling. Perhaps with Riri, you’ll get to enjoy it more.

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