Summary: When The Creature finds you sick in the woods, he nurses you back to health with no expectation of gratitude. But when you're well again, you both find yourselves longing for company—and desperate to shut out the world which has shown its cruelty time and time again. This desperation becomes devotion to one of the only kind touches either of you have known.
Author's Note: We're really developing feelings in this chapter! This one is where the tension really begins. Pining, yearning, longing—it all starts right here. Be prepared for the smut to really set in soon after this (I can only behave myself for so long).
Link to Masterlist
Taglist: @wonderbon
The knock came just past midday.
He heard it coming before you did—a sound like boots scuffing dirt where there should have been none, the pause that came before knuckles struck wood.
The scent was apparent next. Leather, sweat, metal. New things, carried on a breath of wind that did not belong so close to the cottage.
Adam stilled at once, body drawing inward, every sense sharpening towards the sound of approaching steps. He moved without thought, retreating to the narrow space beside the north-most wall, where light did not reach and the boards remembered his weight.
You froze.
Eyes set forward, pupils narrow as pinpricks when faced with the rays of day.
They met his briefly, an unspoken look between you that seemed to say, there are not supposed to be travelers here.
As you craned your neck to peer between the cracks where sun shone through, he wondered what had taught you such a ferocious shape of caution. Whether you were always so careful of who treaded too close—or if someone had shown you that hands could hurt.
Once you were satisfied with the silhouette on the other side, you wiped your palms on your apron and went to the door.
A man stood with his shirt tucked into his trousers, posture easy, smile already set neatly in place. Though he hid his finer print well, Adam noticed all of the trappings of an apex predator. How he stood tall as he could manage. How he did not look surprised to find you alone.
“Good afternoon,” he said. Your name left his tongue as though he tasted it.
Adam winced.
“What can I do for you today?” you asked, not unkindly; but you did not step aside.
“We have been talking in the village.” He leaned in closer. Still, you did not invite him in. “They say there is something in these woods,” he continued. “Big thing. Watching. You are always in and out—surely you have witnessed it.”
You cocked your head, mulling his statement with a false consideration. “I’ve seen deer,” you said. “Foxes, too. Rabbits bold enough to steal from my garden. Nothing that concerns me.”
The man’s smile thinned.
“It isn’t good for a woman to live like this,” he murmured, lowering his face towards yours. “All alone out here. No man to care for you when a beast prowls within these very woods.”
From where he hid, Adam felt something coil taut in his chest.
“I manage,” you replied evenly.
“I could help you do more than manage.” He shifted his weight, boots scraping against the doorframe. “I’ve offered before,” he said. “Marriage would settle matters. Give you protection. People in the village would not speak of you so should you accept my hand.”
Silence stretched.
Adam felt it—the change in you.
Subtle. Controlled. Unwelcome.
“I am able to take care of myself, Cyril. I can guarantee you that.”
The trespasser, Cyril, grinned sardonically. “There are things you cannot take care of on your own. Things only a man can give you.”
Something behind your eyes tightened.
“I can provide these things as well, thank you.”
His expression fell as you shut the door with a staunch goodbye.
He could have followed Cyril. It would have been easy to track him. And he knew, more certainly than anything else, that Cyril’s fear would have kept him from ever coming back again.
But he gulped down the desire instead. Fell, so very gracelessly, into restraint.
The day resumed posthaste.
Later, when each note of Cyril was gone and the cottage had settled again, Adam asked you the question he had no right to mention.
“Have you… considered it?” he said, voice hushed.
His stomach flipped. Cyril could offer you a name, a roof that was not borrowed, a future that did not require secrecy. Adam could offer only vigilance—and even that felt pilfered.
You dropped the herbs you were steeping and looked at him. “Considered what?”
He swallowed the knot in his throat, feeling very much as though he could fold under this pressure like a sheet of paper.
“Accepting his hand.”
“Cyril?” You snorted, short and sharp. “I once saw a woman falsify someone calling for her to escape his advances. Personally, I would rather take the claw end of a hammer to my skull.”
The relief that followed was violent and disorienting.
Akin to drowning.
“Are you up to collecting from the forest with me?” You softened when your gaze met him, and he became ungainly in his efforts to remain standing. “We should really try to get what we can before winter comes.”
As he nodded, you smiled. A beautiful thing he wished he could hold onto with both hands. “Let us be off, then.”
————
Silence trailed the two of you like a pale horse at your heels.
It was deafening. The absence of birdsong, the way the air pressed heavy against the trees.
Mushrooms seeped out from knotted trunks, earth-toned gore atop the bark. They grew about in clusters, fleshy mounds which sprung up in circles round each hummock, the only living specimens that summoned the courage to show themselves.
It was unusual for these holts to be so still. For the deciduous scent to be all that remained creeping below the amber canopy of leaves.
A grouse of pheasants scattered.
You were halfway to the mushroom circle when the sound echoed through: a sharp bark, too near for your escape.
The hound tore from the underbrush, lean and dark, eyes savage with purpose. It did not slow when it saw you. It slobbered, gnashing its teeth and flinging threads of saliva.
Adam moved.
He was between you and the animal in an instant, motion raw, unthinking. The dog lunged, teeth snapping—but his hand hooked round its collar mid-leap. He could see the transition into fear immediately, sense the dog’s innate need to break free.
It propelled itself forward. Adam forced its snout into the grip of his fingers. There was a snarl, a yelp, the sudden, terrible sound of breath forced from a body too small to withstand his strength.
He released it at once.
The hound fled, tail tucked, vanishing back into the trees.
You stood there, chest heaving. He could hear your heart hammering. Watched you staring at him as though truly seeing him for the first time.
“I would not have hurt it had it not come at you,” he said quickly. “I swear.”
“I know,” you said. Your voice shook—but you did not retreat. “I know that.”
A single tear streaked down your cheek.
He wanted to die.
“I’m sorry,” you choked. “I do not mean to startle you. I…” He took a step away, and you used the space to collect yourself. “You keep saving me, and I have done next to nothing for you. Twice now—twice, you’ve saved my life. And what do I have to offer in return?” Glancing away, you wiped at your puffy eyes with the back of your hand, sucking in a choppy breath. “I have so very little to repay you even though I owe you my life twice over.”
The cataclysmic burst of your words lit a fire under his skin.
“You…” His tone was hard and half a whisper. "You deserve kindness.”
“So do you.” Your lips trembled as you spoke. “You deserve to be met with more than what I am equipped to give.”
“No, please.” Instinct drove him closer. You did nothing to keep away from him. “You have done more than enough for me just by offering your companionship.”
He was struck cold at the verbiage he’d chosen. His tongue felt chalky his mouth.
But you simply sniffled, eyes meeting his at last. “Truly?”
He could have laughed at the absurdity. You were worried about not doing enough for him? What a strange, fantastical world he’d found himself in.
“Yes,” he said. “Truly. I… I mean it.”
You became tender. “Have you been hurt? I should have asked sooner, forgive me.”
“That does not matter.”
You tutted. “Of course it does.” Your touch swept carefully across his hands, and he all but shattered. “See? Right here, you’ve been bit. I would not forgive myself if it made you sick.”
When you removed your touch, he selfishly wished you would return your hands to his, and fill the hollow spaces within him.
“You needn’t fret about this. I do not heal like you do. I do not… become sick,” he explained this reticently, preparing for all of the questions you may have for him.
For a moment, you wore the look of someone lost in thought—but the expression was soon traded for one of worry.
“Even so, I would like to clean it. Put some herbs upon it to take away some of the pain.”
Electricity skittered up his extremities.
All of his wherewithal went to a single, fragile bow of his head. “As you wish.”
When your hands had steadied, the danger having receded enough to be named, you both took your leave. You came upon the tracks on your way.
Boot prints.
Fresh.
Leading towards the village.
You looked up at him with large, wet eyes, and curled your little fingers into the material of his coat.
“Do not leave me alone tonight.”
Warmth swooped in his gut. Boiled there like a kettle.
“Yes,” he whispered. “As you wish.”
————
That night, the hearth was welcoming, its heat less remembrance and more of what he had come to know: bread, tea, gentle nights with noses pressed to books.
He could not pull his gaze from you.
Bathed in the firelight as though kept inside of a candle’s glow, the shadows of your lashes arched in crescents atop your cheeks. Your eyes glittered. Your lips moved along with each word you read, allowing a silent rendition of the world you were seeing, curved as rose petals.
It gave him a start when you caught him looking.
You smiled.
The world stood still.
He forced his eyes to the floorboards, ashamed of how greedily he had catalogued you, and began to stammer. “I am… s-sorry, I do not mean to be… impolite, I…”
“You know.” You shut your book. “My grandmother was not a very polite woman.”
He swallowed. Hummed in acknowledgment. “You have been nothing if not polite.”
“Then I have fooled you well, because there is one song she taught me that I remember word for word.” The petals of your lips further curled at the corners. “I’ll sing it to you should you promise not to tell anyone you heard it from me.”
He grinned in such a way that even he could tell made him look foolish, broad and spanning across his face. “I promise.”
You cleared your throat.
“On the fourteenth of May at the dawn of the day
With my gun on my shoulder to the woods I did stray
In search of some game if the weather proved fair
To see could I get a shot at the bonny black hare.”
A chuckle broke the song, and his heart fluttered at the way it filled the room.
“Oh, I met a young girl there with her face as a rose
And her skin was as fair as the lily that grows
I says ‘My fair maiden, why ramble you so?
Can you tell me where the bonny black hare do grow?’
Oh, the answer she gave me, her answer was ‘No…’”
Pink pinched at your cheeks.
“‘But it's under me apron they say it do grow
And if you'll not deceive me I vow and declare
We'll both go together to hunt the bonny black hare’
Well, I laid this girl down with her face to the sky
And I took out my ramrod and my bullets likewise
I says ‘Lock your legs round me and dig in with your heels
For the closer we get, oh, the better it feels!’”
He gasped, and you covered your mouth with your palm to stifle the laugh which blossomed up. “There is more,” you tittered.
“More?”
“Yes, yes, but it is also very improper.”
Adam scooted closer. “Tell it to me anyway,” he said, and you captured your bottom lip betwixt your teeth, an action which nearly unmade him.
After a sigh, you continued. “The birds they were singing in the bushes and trees
And the song that they sang was ‘Oh, she's easy to please’
I felt her heart quiver and I knew what I'd done
Says I 'Have you had enough of my old sporting gun?’
Oh, the answer she gave me, her answer was ‘Nay
It's not often young sportsmen like you come this way
And if your powder is willing and your bullets play fair
Why don't you keep firing at the bonny black hare?’
‘Oh, my powder is wasted and my bullets all gone
My ramrod is limp and I cannot fire on
But I'll be back in the morning and if you are still here
We'll both go together to hunt the bonny black hare!’”
You found yourselves given to fits. Unencumbered, free. More so than he had ever felt while confined within four walls.
Laughter died down to embers, leaving room for a comfortable quiet to settle. This time, though, he found himself too close to separate from you easily. Near enough to count the stars in your eyes.
“Is that what you sang in the woods?” he asked softly. “This song, without the words?”
You did not answer right away. Specks of orange crackled from the hearth, scattering around you and blinking like fireflies. And as the seconds accumulated, Adam caught himself imagining what it would be like to sit across from you in daylight, nothing hidden between you but your breaths.
The thought felt treacherous somehow.
Too human for him.
“No,” you said at last. “But I am glad you heard me.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
“I have two luxuries to brood over on my walks, your loveliness and the hour of my death. O that I could have possession of them both in the same minute…”
“…To touch forever, your warm sink and swell, awake for ever in a sweet unrest. To hear, to feel your tender taken breath, half passionless, and so live forever - or swoon on to death”
~ Excerpts from the 1818 poem Bright Star by John Keats - a love sonnet dedicated to his fiancée Fanny Brawne. This famously erotic 19th century sonnet explored the tension between the desire for eternal constancy and the fleeting nature of human life, ultimately wishing for a steadfast love that remains intimate rather than isolated.
The poem concludes with a powerful juxtaposition of life and death- he wishes to remain awake in this sweet unrest, listening to his lovers breath forever, but acknowledges that such an eternal state is impossible. Much like the quenching of desire within the mortality of yearning - Keats is describing the paradox of desire - that the only way of achieving this eternal state of blissful satiation from his lover is through death - highlighting the tragic beauty of human mortality and its relationship to our sense of the erotic.
Yagi Toshinori x fem!Reader
Word count: 4.026 words
Summary: When Toshinori -your neighbor, your friend, your childhood crush- suddenly moves abroad without warning, you fear him lost to you forever. A chance meeting almost a decade later rekindles both your friendship and your old feelings for him.
Tags: Childhood friends to strangers to friends to lovers (phew!), very light angst, budding romance ((I just want to make it abundantly clear that they are both adults once any romance happens! Reader, as the youngest, is in her early/mid 20s))
Note: Requested by @justmewoo. I’m so terribly sorry for how long it took to get out!! I hope you’re still here to enjoy it 💖
It was late March when your family moved into the apartment next to Toshinori’s. He showed up next to the moving truck, introducing himself and offering a hand with unloading. You peeked at him from behind your mom. He was already tall back then, even if he was only in his final year of middle school. And he would soon grow even taller.
Your mom made some polite small talk with him, then asked about his parents.
Toshinori rubbed sheepishly at the back of his neck. “Oh, I, uh… I live alone. My parents, they… passed away some time ago.”
“Oh.” Your mom was flabbergasted at this news. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry! I…”
Toshinori gave her a disarming smile. “It’s alright, you couldn’t possibly have known.”
In the following years you never really found out if your mom felt sorry for Toshinori in some way, or if she felt some form of responsibility to the teenager next door, living all by himself. But she began inviting him over for dinner most nights, and Toshinori slowly became a part of your family. You’re pretty sure he saw you and your parents as some form of family too. And your mother soon trusted him enough to ask him to keep an eye on you in the afternoons while your parents worked.
The two of you quickly became friends. Your mom often referred to you as being ‘thick as thieves.’ You spent your afternoons together doing homework, playing games, being silly; and you quickly developed a crush on him.
“‘You’re standing in an open field west of a house with a boarded front door.’” You quoted the opening of your favorite game from memory. “‘There is a mailbox here.’ Toshi, do you remember what’s in the mailbox?”
Toshinori, walking next to you, chuckled. “You really do love that game. How many times have we played it by now? Three?”
“Toshi! The mailbox, do you remember what’s in it?”
He cleared his throat, which made you squeal with glee that he was playing along. “‘Opening the mailbox reveals a leaflet,’” he quoted.
“Do the bit, Toshi! What does the leaflet say??”
He lowered his voice to a growl. “‘WELCOME TO ZORK.’”
You jumped, pumping your fist in the air. “Yeah!! Can we play it again soon?”
Toshinori smiled at you, that soft smile which you had grown so fond of in the past few months. “Sure. Let’s play it soon. We should be able to finish it before summer break ends.”
You nodded happily. Turning off the shopping street, the two of you entered the supermarket.
“So,” Toshinori said, pulling a list out of his pocket. “Your mom needs mackerel, cabbage, potatoes, milk, and bread. And a treat for us for the trouble.”
“We get a treat?” Your eyes were blazing.
“Yeah! Says so right here!”
He handed you the grocery list. Reading it, you frowned.
“That last part isn’t my mom’s handwriting… It’s yours.”
Toshinori grinned at you. “Alright, you got me, I want a sweet treat. And I don’t mind sharing. What do you think, an ice pop?”
You tore through the store, gathering the groceries your mom needed in record speed, the promise of getting treated to something sweet by Toshinori spurring you on. You finally stopped in front of the freezer, looking over all the choices.
“How about this one?” Toshinori asked, picking out a soda-flavored double popsicle.
You swallowed hard, suddenly feeling embarrassed. When he said that he didn’t mind sharing, you hadn’t imagined that you would literally be splitting a treat. For some reason, the thought of it made your mouth dry.
“Y-yeah,” you forced out. “Looks good.”
Toshinori paid for the groceries, adding a few coins of his own to the money your mom had given him. Once outside, he unwrapped the popsicle. Grabbing hold of the two sticks, he pulled, splitting the popsicle perfectly down the middle.
“Here you go!”
You took the proffered treat with shaking hands. Sticking it in your mouth, you tried to savor the sweet flavor as the two of you began walking home.
Time passed, and your crush on Toshinori only grew.
However, at one point during the winter, he began changing. He spent his afternoons and evenings working out, rarely stopping by for dinner anymore. Whenever you asked him why, he always gave the same vague answer.
“I’m training for the UA department of heroes entrance exam. I hear it’s pretty difficult.”
“But you don’t have a quirk, Toshi!” you shot back one day. “Why are you taking the entrance exam? I don’t get it! You need a quirk to go be in the hero department, right? So why?”
Toshinori just smiled calmly at your displeasure. “I can’t explain how, but my quirk manifested recently. So I thought I’d give the entrance exam a try. But I’m way behind, so I need to practice extra hard!”
You crossed your arms. “What is it, then? Your quirk, what does it do, huh?”
“I haven’t fully explored all of it yet, but it’s some kind of strength quirk.”
“Strength, sure. And you just found out one day.”
You didn’t believe him. It seemed too sudden, too perfectly timed. But you also had no other explanation for the change in him, unless he had somehow kept his quirk hidden from you for almost a year. And when Toshinori did pass the entrance exam, you found yourself even less able to argue that something was off. You pulled away from him, keeping to yourself. If he didn’t want to spend time with you, then you wouldn’t make him. His precious quirk and his precious high school seemed more important to him, anyway.
Your mom, however, seemed to ignore your bad mood and your attempts at distancing yourself from Toshinori. On his first day at UA, she decided that a photo of her bonus-son was needed and forced you to stand next to him in his brand new school uniform, a smile plastered to your face. The photo ended up on a shelf in the living room. Toshinori's bright smile greeted you every time you came home.
Toshinori was kept busy with his high school classes, just like your mom had warned you. But it seemed like he’d listened when you voiced your displeasure in his recent change. Even though he wasn’t always able to, he tried freeing a few hours every week to spend with you. And as mad as you were at him, you still cherished what little time you had together.
In his final year of high school, things once again worsened. Toshinori grew distant almost overnight, refusing to tell you what had caused this change. He frequently ignored you, closing the door to his apartment in your face like you weren’t even there. No matter how long you waited outside, nothing changed. You grew desperate, begging him to at least give you a reason, to let you apologize for whatever you did.
“Toshi!!” you cried, beating your fists against his door until they bled. “Toshi, I know you’re home!! Please… Please just tell me what I did!! Toshinori, please!”
Your pleas fell on deaf ears.
Toshinori disappeared a few days after this. You and your parents only realized when you saw a new family move into his apartment. Your mom approached the landlady, gently asking about the young man who used to live here.
“Oh, he moved to America! Can you believe it, little Toshinori, so far away! He said that he’ll become a great hero, and--”
You didn’t stay to listen to the old woman’s prattle. Turning on your heel, you ran back into your apartment, straight to the shelf which held that picture from Toshinori’s first day of high school.
You pulled the photo from the frame with shaky hands, your face burning with anger. He left without saying goodbye! The frame slipped from your fingers, glass cracking as it hit the floor. You didn’t care. Sniffling, you held the photo by the corners. Then you twisted, tearing the picture down the middle, splitting you and Toshinori apart.
Looking at the torn picture, your vision clouded over with tears, and you let out a heartbroken wail. It was ruined. This was all you had left, and you had ruined it. Just like you somehow ruined your friendship.
Years passed. You never expected to see Toshinori again. And yet you did, on the news one random night. It seemed that you and your parents were some of the few people who recognized the up-and-coming hero in the US, All Might, as your former next-door neighbor. You scoured whatever piece of information you could find on him, constantly keeping your eyes peeled for any news, if only to make sure that he was still okay. That he was still alive. And you watched him grow over the years, wondering if you’d ever be able to meet him again.
Then, during your final year at university, All Might returned to Japan in all his gilded glory. You had occasionally seen him featured on the news when an incident happened in America, Japanese news channels fawning over the Japanese-born hero making it big in the US. You had recognized him instantly. And yet, you couldn’t recognize him at all, he had changed so much. His muscles had somehow gotten bigger than they already were the last time you saw him, his once soft smile had become blinding. His long bangs, the ones you used to love to pull on to get his attention, were styled into something reminiscent of rabbits’ ears. And all of this brilliant glory surrounding him only made his face seem more haggard and haunted to you. Gone was the innocent teenager you once knew; instead the screen showed a fully fledged hero, complete with haunting memories of disasters. It made your heart bleed for him. If only you could see him again. You weren’t entirely sure how you’d help him heal, but you were certain that you could.
The chance came sooner than you had expected. The Hero Business and Management department of your university -your department- somehow managed to rope a few of the higher-ranking heroes into giving a speech to the graduating students, All Might included.
You sank deeper into your seat when All Might took the stage, uncertain if you wanted him to recognize you or not. He wouldn’t spot you, you told yourself, you were too hidden in the crowd. You had every intention of seeking him out after the speeches were over -as you were sure many other students would- but right now you preferred to stay hidden and just watch him.
All Might looked out over the crowd of students, his new 1000W smile locked and loaded and ready to go, then he locked eyes with you and his dazzling smile faltered. It was brief, he caught himself instantly, but just for a second you saw that teenager you were so familiar with, and your heart ached.
Then Toshinori leaned closer to the microphone. “I… … AM HERE!”
The crowd erupted in cheers. Your head fell forward and you sighed sadly; the moment was over. His gilded All Might persona was back.
“All Might! All Might!! All Might, over here!!”
The crowd of fans was dense around Toshinori. You hung back, waiting for people to disperse. You didn’t want the whole department witnessing this reunion - a reunion which you only just realized that Toshinori might not want. But you couldn't back out now.
Finally, the crowd thinned with only a few stragglers hanging back, staring lovingly at Toshinori. As the last in line, you were waved forward by his manager.
Toshinori was beaming at the person ahead of you as he exchanged a few final words. Then he turned to you.
“And now for the most patient person! How can I--” The words died in his throat as he met your gaze. His stunned surprise was brief, then a softer smile spread across his face. “It’s you again. I-I feel that… that I know you. What’s your name, young lady?”
When you told him your name, you could almost see the memories unlock in his bright blue eyes.
“The little girl next door…” he said. “I’m sorry, that time was rough for me and I seem to have locked away a few memories. And you’ve grown so much since then, it’s no wonder I didn’t fully recognize you.”
“You’ve changed too,” you said, fiddling with the old photo of the two of you, covered in tape to keep the pieces together.
“What do you have there?” Toshinori asked, holding out one hand. He chuckled when you handed over the photo. “You still have this… You must have handled it a lot seeing how torn up it is.”
“Actually…” You pushed a lock of hair behind your ear, feeling very put on the spot. “I kinda tore it up when I found out that you left. I was feeling so mad I didn’t know what else to do.”
Toshinori’s smile grew apologetic. “I did leave without an explanation.” He was quiet for a moment, then he spoke up again, “If--”
“I’m sorry,” Toshinori’s manager spoke up from behind you, “but time’s up. You’ll have to move on, young lady.”
“It’s alright, Matsura,” Toshinori said, “this is an old friend.” Turning to you, he asked, “Would you happen to be available for dinner tonight?” When you nodded silently, he turned back to his manager. “Matsura, would you be so kind as to clear my schedule for the night?”
“But the dinner with Endeavor and the other heroes?” Matsura said. “You already accepted the invitation.”
“I’m sure there will be other dinners. Please, Matsura, it’s not every day I get to catch up with childhood friends.”
Matsura nodded, pulling a cell phone out of his pocket as he began walking away.
You’d kept quiet during the exchange, but now you spoke up again. “You’re clearing your schedule for me?”
Toshinori nodded. “I thought catching up over dinner would be nice. And I feel like I owe you an apology for my abrupt departure.”
Dinner with Toshinori turned out more pleasant than you had dared hope for. The conversation flowed easily between you, Toshinori taking great interest in your studies.
Once done eating, you decided to broach the topic you had both been skirting around all evening.
“So… why did you leave so suddenly?”
Toshinori’s smile fell, which made you feel just a smidge guilty.
“Right, that was part of the reason why I asked you to join me tonight, wasn’t it? It’s a complicated issue, and there are things I am unable to tell you for the sake of your own safety. In essence: my master was killed by a dangerous man. A man who had been after her for years. I had every reason to believe he would set his sights on me next. He has less reach outside of Japan, so I was told to leave the country and only to return when I was ready to face him. I felt it was safer for you and your family -the other people in the building as well- if I left without saying anything. I was hoping that breaking every bond would give him less reason to go after any of you.” Toshinori’s smile turned sad. “That night when you kept hammering on my door. I almost broke my oath of keeping my distance from you.”
“I… see,” you said. You had thought a lot about the why over the years. And once you got older, you had realized that Toshinori had most likely left so abruptly for a reason just like this. Still, it was shocking to find out that you had been right. That you and your family could easily have been a casualty.
“So… did you defeat him yet?” you asked.
Toshinori had a wry smile on his face. “No. He’s gone into hiding. If I could only find a clue to his hiding spot then maybe I could settle this matter.” Then his smile grew soft again. “Speaking of settling a matter.. I apologize for hurting you so deeply that you tore that photo to pieces.”
You waved him off. “It’s alright, I was a stupid kid.” Letting out a derisive laugh, you continued, “My anger that night was aggravated by me having the biggest crush on you. I couldn’t control myself.”
Toshinori stared at you, eyes wide. The look on his face made you want to pick up your fork and eat your words.
“You did?”
“I mean… You know how kids are! We spent so much time together, I looked up to you a lot, thought you were so cool, how could I not? Having a good-looking older boy giving you any form of positive attention is a tween girl’s dream, isn’t it? I mean, I guess you wouldn’t know how tween girls feel, but it is!”
You kept prattling on nervously, trying to convince both yourself and Toshinori that having a crush on the cute boy next door was completely normal -a trivial matter, really!- and trying very much to hide that that crush, which had been laying dormant for all those years, was now blooming again like a flower in spring.
Toshinori smiled at you. “I suppose that’s true. Kids do tend to get crushes easily. I know I experienced it too when I was your age. But that girl never paid me any attention.”
“Yeah… completely normal.”
You were both silent for a while, trying to process what had just been said. Then Toshinori spoke up again.
“Now that you’re old enough to understand the risks of being around me… I was hoping that, maybe, we could repeat this evening. If you want to, that is.”
You just stared at him for a few seconds, trying to parse his words.
“You’re saying… that you want to reconnect?”
“I am.” He sighed deeply. “I understand if it’s too daunting, but I’ve only just realized how nice it is to see a friendly face again. Someone who knew me before my hero career, someone who knew the old me. Even my high school friends only ever knew fledgling All Might...”
“Of course we can! That guy doesn’t scare me! But…” You hesitated. “I’m honestly not sure how much we have in common anymore; I’m not even sure we would’ve been friends back then if we hadn’t been neighbors and my mom practically adopting you, but… I want to try!”
Toshinori beamed at you. “Then, maybe we can recreate the old photo too, if you want.”
“Sure!”
You and Toshinori grew closer over the next six months, closer than you had ever dared hope possible. You didn’t get to hang out with him nearly as often as you would like, but you could feel that, despite his busy schedule, he made a genuine effort to make time for you.
The old photo from his first day of high school was placed prominently on your bookshelf, surrounded by an ever-growing amount of pictures of the two of you.
Your crush on him only grew. And you slowly realized that he was subtly returning your affection. It started with long gazes when he thought you wouldn’t notice. A lingering touch on your shoulder, as if he couldn’t bear to pull his hand away. At first you thought you might be imagining things. But one night, after a dinner with your parents, Toshinori made it abundantly clear that he had grown to hope for more than just friendship from you.
Your parents still lived in the old apartment in Musutafu. The nostalgia of walking through the familiar streets with Toshinori again made you feel sappy. Toshinori had even left his bangs down, framing his face just like he used to when he was a teenager.
“It’s almost weird being back,” he said, as if he’d read your mind. “I’m quite happy your parents still accept me.”
“Of course they do!” you said, turning to him. “They were heartbroken too when you left! And…” You sighed, looking down at your feet. “They were so happy when we reconnected. They see you like a son, y’know.”
“Like a son, huh?” Toshinori mumbled. “I hope this will not make it weird, then.”
You stopped to look at him, surprised by the wistfulness in his voice. “What will?”
Toshinori looked at you, blue eyes sparkling in the streetlight. “My attempt at changing our relationship.”
“Your… I don’t understand, Toshi, change how? Please don’t tell me you’re running away again!”
“No!” Toshinori had the decency to look apologetic for worrying you. “No running this time. Not unless you turn me down…”
“Turn you down?”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Do you mind if we have this conversation in a place more private? The change I’m trying to make is… good, I hope. But it isn’t something I want any random passersby to know about.”
You looked around, trying to find a place that fitted the description of ‘private.’ There was no way you were waiting until you got home to find out how Toshinori wanted to change your relationship. You had a very thrilling inkling of what he wanted to say, but you tried to squash it just in case you were wrong.
“There!” You pointed to a small, quiet side street. “That’s a good starting point, right?”
Toshinori just nodded, following you as you began briskly walking down the street. You shortly came across an alleyway giving even further privacy, and you pulled Toshinori into the narrow space. His broad shoulders almost touched the walls.
“Okay, so. What did you want to say?” you asked, trying not to vibrate with excitement.
Toshinori let out a bark of laughter. “You’re so forward! Let me have a moment to set the mood.”
He was quiet for a little while, thinking, then he spoke up again. “Meeting you again has been a balm for my soul. It made me feel like I had truly returned home. But my thoughts kept returning to the time you mentioned having a crush on me when we were both children. And it made me realize something.”
“Did you have a crush on me too back then?” you asked, confused as to where he was going with this.
He laughed again. “No, no. You were much too young back then, I doubt the thought even crossed my mind. Now, however…”
You felt your cheeks heating up. Toshinori practically towered over you. You whet your lips.
“Now?” you whispered.
Toshinori reached out, gently cupping your cheek. “Now, I find myself thinking about you all the time. Do you think… Would you be open to going on a date with--”
“Yes!!” The words were out of your mouth before you knew it. It made Toshinori laugh again.
“So eager.” His thumb brushed over your bottom lip. “May I?”
You just nodded. Toshinori’s hand slid to the back of your head, and he leaned in, gently pressing his lips against yours. Knees weak, your fingers twisted into the fabric of his shirt, hoping for some sense of stability.
Toshinori wrapped his free arm around your waist. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, before kissing you again.
You have no idea how long you stood like that in the alleyway, only breaking apart to gasp for air before your lips met once more. Eventually, Toshinori pulled away, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then your cheek.
“I ought to get you home before someone finds us,” he said.
You just nodded again, not fully trusting your voice. Looking at him, your gaze then went to his long bangs. You couldn’t help yourself. Wrapping one of his bangs around your fingers, you gave it a gentle tug. “I’m happy you left your hair down tonight,” you mumbled, voice rusty. “I like it better this way.”
Toshinori looked surprised. “You do?”
You smiled at him. “Yeah, I do.” Then you pulled him in for another brief kiss. “I really do prefer you without all your gilded might,” you whispered against his lips.
The Hawk and The Songbird (Dracule Mihawk x F! Reader)
Rated : G
Inspired by the Live Action One Piece Iteration of Dracule Mihawk. After all, how can one look at this man and not swoon.
Contains Mostly Fluff and Very Mild Swearing. And I threw in some longing too. Gotta have that. Oh and I threw in a personal head canon. All in all, this is a one long bit of non canon compliant fluff.
Enjoy!
It was a busy night at The Mermaid’s Tail tavern. It was even more busy due to the fact that you were the only one working that night. Your best friend who had hired you to help, had to attend to a family matter that evening, so it was down to you. You liked busy nights though because it meant things went by faster.
The usual crowd was there. All were quite jovial because that day was payday, which meant they had plenty of coins to spend and they planned to drink it away that night. You knew most if not all of them by name now and they all greeted you as an old friend.
All but one. Him. The Man in Black.
The Man in Black, so called because of his fancy black hat and black long coat, sat near one of the windows, facing away from the crowd. He had started coming in a week or so after you started working there. Upon seeing him that first night, you asked your friend about him. They handed you a glass of red wine to take to him and told you to not expect much from him at all. So you took it over. He nodded to you and said nothing.
He was there again that night. As usual he sat alone,keeping his head down, looking at no one, saying nothing to no one, not even you. In front of him on the table was his usual glass of red wine, a glass that you made sure stayed full, along with his massive sword. The man radiated an energy that could simply be described as “Keep your distance.”
He often showed up just as the crowd was starting to get bigger and often stayed till closing. What’s more,he always left a generous bit of coin. Enough so that he was your biggest tipper. He gave you no guff and for you, that suited you just fine. To you, he was just the Man in Black. He was just another customer. Albeit your most mysterious one.
Moving through the crowd dropping off drinks, so many asked you if you planned to sing that night. You told all of them that if the mood hit you right that you would. Though you were flattered that so many loved your voice, at times, you felt that the patrons only saw you as entertainment and nothing else. A few even treated you as something that could be purchased, which made you feel worse. All you wanted to do was get on with things and make what money you could. Once you did, you could move on again.
The night was half over when another large group came through the doors, laughing, joking and all around being boisterous. Looking at them, you didn't recognize them. They all were dressed in black with bits of red. having only been on the island a few months, you were still learning what crew was who. Whenever a new one would come through the doors, it always made you on edge. Did they come for a bit of fun or a bit of trouble?
Walking over to the table to take their order, you gave them a sweet smile, hoping that would make them inclined to be well behaved. Not a chance. The man with close cropped blonde hair that you took to be the Captain gave you such a leering look that it made your skin crawl. He asked for a round for him and his crew and asked what time you planned on singing tonight. When you told him that you didn't know if you were going to or not, he offered a bit of money for you to sing right there.
If they had asked nicely, if they had not given you the creeps right off the bat, you might have agreed.
“I’ll be back with your drinks. And for the future, I'm not a bird who sings on command.” You said, dropping your smile and your tone, enough that you hoped the idiots would get the hint that they had overstepped. In the past when you had to do that, the wise ones got the hint and usually apologized later on in the form of extra cash.
All but one of them got the hint: the Captain.
After you turned your back to them and started to walk away, the Captain got up and began to follow you. You were so distracted, wondering what cheap ale you could get away with serving them, you didn't notice him getting up to follow you.
“Oi, You fucking B…” You heard someone yell over the other patrons.
The words registered in your ear, making you stop and pivot around quickly, your temper flaring. But to your shock, the Captain, so smug before, was standing frozen in place, a very long and large metal blade placed firmly under his neck.
You looked to see who was holding the blade. To your utter shock, it was him.Having never seen his face before, you hadn't known what to expect. Under the dark hat with the white plume feather, was a man with black hair, with a short black beard. He had a mustache that was designed in a unique way, instead of the ends pointing down and connecting with the beard, they pointed upwards. It was a very handsome face.
Under his long ornate coat, he had on a large golden cross, tan trousers and boots. His bare chest was hairless but he was in great shape.He looked like he stepped off the cover of a bodice ripper. He looked incredibly sexy.
It was then that you noticed that the bar had gone dead silent. All the other patrons who had weapons on them had drawn them. All eyes were on you, the Captain and the Man in Black
“What did you just say to her?” The man said in a voice that was deep, smooth, and to you, very alluring. His jaw was clenched so tight that you thought it just might snap. You didn't know at that moment what you were more, scared or aroused.
“Mihawk. What a pleasure.” The Captain said, looking at him with a grin that lacked any and all humor. He brought up his hands as if to surrender, perhaps hoping that would be enough to get Mihawk to drop his blade. He didn't.
“It's just a misunderstanding.”
“ Oh..I think not.” Mihawk said, his voice now dripping with venom. “Shall I dispose of him for you, Milady?”
It took a second for you to realize that the man you now knew to be Mihawk was addressing you, so stunned you were that he had come to your defense.Not only had he done that, but he addressed you in such a way that made you swoon inside.
“If you would be so kind.” You said, your voice cracking just a touch as you addressed him.
Keeping his blade to the Captains neck, Mihawk all but shoved him out the door, not wishing to make a mess inside. The crew quickly followed outside to assist their Captain, thinking that surely all of them could take down one man who only had a sword as his weapon.
The rest of the patrons quickly got up. Some rushed to the windows, some rushed to the door and peeked out. Seconds later, you heard the sounds of men screaming and of items being broken. Some of the patrons watched with gleeful looks, others winced and looked away.
Suddenly it was quiet outside. The patrons quickly went back to their tables and their drinks. For a second you worried that Mihawk was now gone. You started to head towards the door, but then,Mihawk then walked back in, his sword now on his back. Looking at him, you didn't see a single mark or a drop of blood on him. As he walked over to you, your knees began to feel a bit wobbly. You hoped you wouldn't faint in front of him.
“Are you alright Sir?”
“Never better.” Mihawk said, giving you a small, rare smile, his voice now much softer than before. It was soft enough that it felt like a gentle caress.
“Are they all gone?” You asked.
“Some ran. Others, will never run again.”
“May I ask which of the two the Captain is?”
“The latter.”
You swallowed hard, processing the fact that this immensely handsome and dangerous man standing in front of you took down a pirate captain and his crew because he dared to insult you. And here you thought such men only existed in stories.
“Thank you Sir. Rest of the night, your drinks are on me.” You said, nodding back towards the bar. Mihawk followed you and took a seat. You quickly poured another goblet of his favorite red wine and as you handed it to him, you felt his fingers brush yours, which made you shiver a bit.
You then decided to pour a glass for yourself. You were so wound up you needed to take the edge off. Taking a big drink, the wine warmed you up even more.
“So, Mihawk is it?”
“Dracule Mihawk.” He said, tilting his head to the side a bit. It was then that you got a good look at his eyes. To your shock, they were golden, much like a hawk’s. It made you wonder if his sight was as good as a hawks. You also felt as if Mihawk could see through you..
“Well, Dracule Mihawk, might I ask a favor of you?”
“Yes?”
“Would you mind staying until closing and perhaps after a bit...just in case the others come back?” You asked. Though that was a part of the reason, there was another, to find out more about the dashing gentleman now sitting at your bar.
“I’ll stay as long as you wish, Milady.”You smiled, relieved to hear that.
Realizing that you needed to get back to work, you resumed your duties, with Mihawk keeping a close watch from the bar. Thankfully the other patrons were very well behaved the rest of the night. By then, with everything else going well and Mihawk keeping you company, you were in a much better mood. So much so that at closing time, you felt in a good enough mood to sing.
Upon announcing that it was time for some music, one of the patrons ran over to the piano and started playing a lively tune. Quickly you got up on the bar and started singing. Within seconds the patrons were clapping along, having a grand time. Once you were done, the applause and cheering from the crowd could clearly be heard outside. In the mood for more, you nodded to the player, who quickly launched into another crowd pleaser of a tune.
As he watched you belt out another song, Mihawk kept his golden gaze on you and only you. Seeing you lose yourself in the music,he found himself smiling more than he had in a long time,your energy was so infectious.
Though he hadn't told you yet, you were the sole reason he had been coming into the tavern. In years past, he might come in if he was in search of someone. Perhaps he might have had a drink while waiting for someone. But he hasn't been in for a while. Until one night, arriving late to the dock, he had left the ship in order to meet with someone, when walking along the dock, he heard singing coming out of the The Mermaid’s Tail tavern.
Greatly curious, he had peeked in, and saw to his astonishment, a gorgeous barmaid, sitting on top of said bar, belting out what he surmised was a love song. To his shock, everyone in the tavern was enraptured by your performance. Despite it, he found himself unwilling to leave until the song was over. Even after he left later in search of his quarry, your angelic voice was still ringing in his ears. So much so that he even dreamt of you singing.
The first chance he got, he returned to the tavern, wondering if you would grace the patrons with your voice again. He was in luck for that night, you sang a handful of songs and had the patrons on their feet clapping and dancing. Watching you from afar, he found himself wanting to approach you. But strangely, he couldn't.
Mihawk kept his distance, but as much as he fought it, he found himself coming back time and time again just for the chance to hear you sing again. Something about your voice stirred him inside. It was like your voice was a Siren’s call that he couldn't resist.
After a while, you had to close things up. The patrons were sad to have to leave but were thrilled to have been treated to another performance by you. True to his word, Mihawk stayed behind. Surprisingly, he even pitched in to help.
Once you finished locking up the take in the office, you returned to the bar itself. Mihawk was still there, still looking at you with those golden eyes of his that you had become utterly enchanted by.
“Shall I escort you home?” He asked.
“I actually have a room upstairs.” You said, a bit nervously. “Benefits of working here and being friends with the owner. Thank you again for everything.”
“My pleasure.” He said, with a tip of his hat, his voice dropping even more.
You then walked him to the door, you fought the urge to take him by the hand and ask him to stay, but something stopped you. As he stepped out, you asked hopefully “Will you be back tomorrow?”
“Would Milady like me to come back tomorrow?’ He turned to ask.
“Milady would, very much so.” You said, hoping you weren't being too forward.
“Then I will be here. Goodnight Milady.” Mihawk said, with another tip of his hat. As he walked off into the night, Mihawk smiled to himself, already looking forward to tomorrow evening.
Locking the door behind him, you walked upstairs to your room. After getting ready for bed, you laid down, your thoughts still firmly on Mihawk. The whole evening had been a surreal one, but even with a bit of drama with the Captain, it still ended on a wonderful note.
You hummed happily to yourself as you wound down, already planning on what songs to sing tomorrow. You also planned to ask Mihawk what his favorite song was. If it was one you knew, you would be happy to sing it for him. If you didn't know it, you would be damn sure to learn it. You wanted to look straight into those hawk-like eyes of his as you sang just for him.
Back in his own room, Mihawk’s thoughts centered on just one thing: you. He still couldn't believe that he had been given the opportunity to finally approach you. Though having to dispose of the Captain and his crew had been a minor bit of drama, he had been more than happy to dispose of them in service to such a beautiful woman. What’s more, he was given the chance to hear you sing up close.
Your angelic voice was still in the back of his mind as he settled in. As he began to drift off, it remained. He hoped that even as he entered the world of dreams that your voice wouldn't leave him, you the Songbird.
“Goodnight Milady.” He whispered into the night. “I await your call.”
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Astarion x Tav Prompt! (for the 200 follower celebration)
Astarion tailoring Tavs clothes before they reach the big city.
Some sensory ideas: rough linen, crackling warm campfire, fingers caressing skin, crisp autumn air, sounds of skin against fabric, soft sighs or humming
Thank you so much for the ask! I love reading tailor Astarion stories, so this is my humble attempt at writing one. Hope you like it! 💕
This is set in Act II, soon after the tiefling party.
Pairing: Astarion x unnamed female Tav
Word count: 2.4k
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Part of his plan
To Astarion their relationship was a transaction. A little tit for tat. Because this was what 200 years of servitude taught him. Nothing was ever given for free. Nothing came without a price. And usually it was not worth the pain or the effort anyway.
But when it came to Tav, Astarion found himself trying to make more of an effort to stay in her good graces. Not because he cared about her as such. But he didn’t find the thought of spending time with her, travelling alongside her, even sharing her bedroll as distasteful as with anyone else. Perhaps because she foolishly put others before herself. Perhaps it was her treating him with respect and kindness. But her being nice made him want… to be nice back. Just to make sure that their leader was well and truly smitten, of course.
That evening as Tav changed out of her armour to offer her neck to him, Astarion’s eyes fell to the rather obvious tear in her shirt. She noticed him look and flushed.
“I was going to take care of that yesterday but felt so tired that I just kind of decided to leave it,” she mumbled, pulling at the fabric awkwardly.
She scurried out of his tent and into her own before he could reply. Astarion felt his lips quirk into a smile. Now this was just the opportunity to make himself useful in their leader’s eyes that he was looking for!
He had already bedded Tav and although the experience was hardly unpleasant, he didn’t look forward to using his body over and over just to secure his place by her side. Therefore, making himself so much a part of her life that she felt that he was indispensable to her was crucial in keeping her interested.
Thus assured that he was once again right and everything was going according to his plan, Astarion grabbed his sewing kit and walked confidently in the direction of Tav’s tent.
“Darling, how about I-”
Tav looked up and Astarion was rendered speechless when he looked at her handywork. Only gods knew how she managed to create the monstrosity in her hands in such a short time. And where on earth did she even get thread of such toxic, garish colour?
Tav blushed a rather fetching shade of red and lowered her eyes.
“I suppose I made it worse, haven’t I?” she whispered, clearly embarrassed at being so terrible at something as basic as fixing a simple tear.
“Well… This isn’t the best needlework that I’ve seen, admittedly. But I am certain that it isn’t the worst either.”
The large, uneven stitches were quite remarkable, in their own way.
“How about I take over from here. I’m sure that we can salvage this,” he gently pried the shirt out of her hands and clicked his tongue as he lifted it closer to his eyes.
“I suppose this will take me a little longer than initially anticipated, seeing as I have to undo your fine effort first, but I will certainly finish it come morning.”
Astarion made a move to rise but felt a hand grasp his sleeve.
“You could stay here, if you wanted,” she suggested, making him freeze.
Truth be told, staying here was the last thing that he wanted to do. It was too intimate. Him staying could be misinterpreted as him wanting to engage in certain activities. And sex was the last thing currently on his mind.
“And have you miss out on the chance to catch up on some beauty sleep? How villainous would that be!” he joked, trying to extricate himself without making it too obvious that he wanted to leave.
“Then I could sit out by the campfire with you. I mean, if you want…” she trailed off, suddenly feeling silly, “we could talk.”
“Talk?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“I would like to get to know you more. Learn more about you, if you allow it.”
Talk. Yes, just like people did when they spent any amount of time around each other. He supposed that knocking boots was not enough for someone like Tav, someone who was… sweet.
Astarion supposed he could be forgiven for jumping to the conclusion that her asking to stay was asking for sex. He met few people who wanted him for his conversation skills. Most wanted to bed him, some wanted to spend time with him afterwards. He could recall hardly any who actually seemed to care for him or his past. And one of these people was sitting in her undershirt and waiting for him to make a decision. Always so patient with him, always treating him with such respect.
“Alright, why not,” he conceded, feeling his shoulders relax a touch now that he knew that she was not expecting him to perform. “Seeing as a night of passion is off the table and there is plenty of time until sunrise, I might enjoy this- this getting to know each other better idea. Though you may want to put something on, the night is quite chilly.”
Unfortunately, Tav had little else to wear. Seeing as others were always a priority, she purchased very few things for herself. Astarion rolled his eyes as he saw her eyeing her armour with uncertainty.
“Here,” he pulled his shirt off and handed it to her. “Whilst I may be all but immune to the elements, it wouldn’t do for our leader to be bested by a common cold.”
She hesitated briefly before taking the shirt and slipping it on. It smelled like Astarion, bergamot, rosemary and something else. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on but didn’t want to ask.
They walked out of her tent and Astarion took a seat near the campfire.
“So how should we go about it, dearest?” he asked without looking in her direction, but rather focusing on trying to minimize the damage that she did to her clothes.
Honestly, had no one taught her to sew? This work was worse than anything done by the other spawn even in their early days!
“How about… a question for a question?” she suggested, taking a seat beside him.
“Is anything off limits? Are you truly prepared for everything that you might uncover?” he teased, squinting a little as he used the sharp, pointy edge of scissors to carefully unpick her terrible stitches. “Us big city folk come with our terrible, depraved secrets.”
Ah, a blush for his efforts. Familiar territory.
“I can’t say what is off limits,” Tav said, playing with the collar and the ruffles of his shirt with her long, nervous fingers. “How about you are allowed not to answer any one question of your choosing?”
“Seems reasonable,” he shrugged, finally getting the thread that she used to cooperate and pulling on it until the fabric was no longer bunched awkwardly.
“What is your favourite colour?”
How uninspired. Honestly, were they children?
“I assumed it was blue,” she went on. “Your underwear is blue. And you seem to favour the blue dye, when you have a choice.”
“Observant, are we?” he chuckled. “Just how long has it been since I’ve piqued your interest? And yes, this is not a rhetorical question. I do expect an answer.”
“I guess… When you opened the doors on the bugbear and the ogre.”
“Oh? How scandalous of you to find that appealing! Did that get you excited?” he elbowed her gently, finding to his surprise that he was rather enjoying the light tone of the conversation.
“No,” Tav laughed, “but it was the first time you smiled. A real, proper smile. That image stayed with me for a long time. And got me wondering… what is beneath the polished look and practiced mannerisms?”
If Astarion had actually fed on her and any blood coursing through him at this moment, he was quite sure that he would have blushed.
He cleared his throat, “I believe it’s your turn to ask.”
She nodded, but didn’t ask him anything immediately, content to simply watch him for a while. The work of his dexterous fingers was such a contrast to her clumsy, inexperienced movements. Tav knew that she was way out of her depth when it came to Astarion and didn’t think that she would be able to figure him out even if she tried. Which is why she looked for an excuse to talk to him without others being around, wanting to get to know him better. But every time she tried to have a genuine conversation with him in the past, his expression would shutter, and he would give her some tired, clearly practiced lines. And perhaps it was foolish of her, but Tav felt she wanted to get to know him. To really know him.
“What makes you happy? And I mean apart from walking in on freaky sex.”
“Tsk, I was going to say just that, actually. Took the words right out of my mouth, you cheeky pup.”
In truth, he was not really sure how to answer that. Happiness has not been part of the equation for over two centuries. Survival and prevailing against all odds. That was all that he was concerned with.
“I’m not exactly sure,” he finally admitted with a frown. “Drinking your blood makes me feel… strong. Powerful. Free. I am not sure what it means to be happy in your books, but I believe this is it for me.”
He took a furtive look at her from underneath his lashes and was taken aback a little by the genuine, warm expression on her face. By the gods! Who did that? Who actually went around looking at people like that? No one did, in his experience.
“I hope you find more things that make you happy,” Tav said earnestly, giving his shoulder a light squeeze.
“Well, the pleasure of your company definitely tops that list,” he cleared his throat and moved away a little, feeling uncomfortable at the warm feeling that bloomed in his chest. Whatever it was.
“Well, of course! But I mean inconsequential nothings. Something that will make you smile. Something that will make you look forward to tomorrow.”
“And what makes you happy, Tav, hm? Seeing as you are the expert on the matter?”
To his surprise, he actually found that he wanted to know the answer.
“Well, it’s nothing unusual. Seeing people I care about being happy. Being helpful. Seeing families reunited.”
“Tsk, you are no fun!” Astarion clicked his tongue in annoyance. “And here I was, actually answering your questions properly and what do I get in return? A cookie-cutter hero ‘I live to serve’ answer. Give me a break,” he scoffed.
“You don’t believe that people can help others just because?” Tav tossed several sticks into the campfire, the flames rising to lick the dry wood hungrily.
“No,” he said firmly, with conviction. “Not in my experience.”
He took a deep breath that he did not need, more for effect than out of necessity. “People are cruel, vile and everything is done for gain and nothing else.”
“You don’t mean that,” Tav looked down at her knees, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“Oh, but I do. My sweet, sweet friend. Kindness gets people tortured. Kindness gets people killed. Kindness is the root of all trouble and you will be better off if you realise this sooner rather than later-” he stopped himself abruptly when he realised that he almost shouted that last part.
They fell silent, the crackling of the fire loud in the stillness.
“I’m sorry you feel this way,” she finally said.
“It is the truth.”
Astarion did not have to look at Tav to know that she disagreed. It didn’t matter. Their experiences were too different. They were too different. She probably was a nice girl from a small town in the middle of nowhere where neighbors were friends, and every day ended with a lovely sunset over the fields. At least that was what Astarion imagined when he thought about Tav’s home. He never actually bothered to ask. Come to think of it, none of them asked Tav about her past. Although they all seemed to be eager enough to have her help them on their personal quests, they actually knew very little about her.
“Goodness me, we seemed to have gotten carried away with that lively discussion,” he cleared his throat, realising that he was silent far too long. “Your shirt is almost fixed, so one last question.”
“Of course,” she stretched, fighting back a yawn.
“The scars on your side,” he noticed that Tav immediately moved to cover them up, pulling his shirt down with a jerk. “How did you get them?”
He had noticed them before, the night of the party. But he didn’t really care to ask then. Astarion out of all people knew that scars could tell quite a story. Cazador told him that his were a poem, but he was determined to find out exactly what it was that that bastard carved into his skin.
Astarion was a little taken aback when Tav’s demeanor changed, the expression turning bitter for the briefest moment before she caught herself. When she turned to look at him, her smile was as pleasant as any she would usually give him.
“Ah. I believe this is the question I will choose not to answer. At least not tonight. Thank you for my shirt and for talking to me. I enjoyed getting to know you a little better. Goodnight.”
“Sleep well, my dear,” he handed her the mended shirt, watching her walk away from the campfire without another word.
Well, perhaps there was more to their fearless leader after all. There was definitely a secret, something that she did not want to be uncovered just yet. And that piqued his interest. Perhaps a goblet of wine or two would loosen her tongue next time they decided to meet for a chat.
Astarion scowled. Him finding talking to Tav pleasant and them bonding was not part of the plan. On the contrary, any sort of relationship was a hindrance.
The vampire rose soundlessly and looked into the woods. Perhaps a hunt to clear his head would do him good. If anything, it would take his mind off Tav. Because whatever was happening between them had to remain a transaction. And it would be prudent not to forget that even for a moment.
Please do more Budding Romances with Marvel Men. I got 2 recommendations, Doctor Strange or Bucky Barnes. Please do more of them.
Of course! I love doing the Budding Romance fics!!
Doctor Strange is defs one of the next ones I was planning. Bucky Barnes I was going to split up into two fics - one as Winter Soldier and then another as Bucky.
But I'm so excited to see someone requesting them!! It made my day seeing you liked them so much that you sent an ask <3
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
your friendly neighborhood they's been writing again-- this time for Newsies!
this little number (heh, pun extremely intended) is a love letter to my favorite gremlin New Yorkers, Spot and Racer, and it details the timeline of their budding relationship (or simply put, it's Race's pining, counting up!).
4 chaps up so far, 6 more to go! Hope to see you there ^-^
P.S. this may or may not be canon to the timeline of another extremely large work i'm plugging away at....... more to come soon (˵¯͒〰¯͒˵)
