[Scenario] Ashveil: Sleep-Talking Confession
cw: self-indulgent, possible OOC, fluff, female reader.
Requested by @starshiningsirius.
It’s a slow afternoon. You’ve been helping Ashveil organise old case files when he finally admits defeat with a big yawn. “Just a short nap,” he says, leaving the room of The Ashen Detective Agency.
It catches your attention. His sleeping spot is the fridge located inside the storage room, and yet, he just leaves to somewhere? You peek outside, and see the man lying on one of the Furbobo Weekly couches.
Furbos working here are quite friendly, and don’t seem to mind the presence of Ashveil.
A group of furbos whispers among each other, and quietly makes a few photos of the napping detective. They will surely have some juicy news about him, but Ashveil himself is too tired to bother.
You grab the case files and plop up on the other couch next to Ashveil.
From time to time, you shoot quick glances at him.
Ashveil looks so peaceful. He’s lying on his side with his forearm supporting his head. His long eyelashes cast shadows on his cheek which are slightly flushed. His breathing is slow and even; his chest go up and down. His long hair is a bit messy. His hat is held by the other hand.
Then, the man shifts slightly in his sleep, and you notice his lips moving.
You think how he’s adorable when sleep-talking. Until you catch him murmuring your name. And you freeze.
At first it’s incoherent — just sleepy murmurs. But then his voice, still rough with sleep and that velvet timbre, becomes clearer, and you hear your name more coherent.
You put aside the case files, and kneel beside him, listening closely.
Ashveil’s eyebrows furrow slightly.
“…don’t go… stay with me…”
He lets let out a soft, almost pained sigh.
“...I love you,” he murmurs, clear as day. “I love you so much it hurts sometimes…”
Instantly, your heart starts pounding loudly and your face heats up. Yet, you listen as he continues murmuring in his sleep heartfelt confessions which are spilling out like he’s been holding them in for months.
“…Please notice me,” he whispers one last time, before his breathing becomes even again.
You kneel there in a stunned silence. The great detective Ashveil… has just sleep-confessed to you.
A few minutes later, Ashveil stirs. He blinks slowly, then notices you staring at him with wide eyes and a burning face in a few centimeters from his own.
The man’s cheeks heat up at the fact how close you are, his eyes go wide, and he quickly sits up on the couch.
“…W-What?” He asks, rubbing his eyes; his voice is still a bit sleepy and rough. “Did I drool or something? You’re looking at me strangely.”
You bite your lip, trying not to smile too obviously, and sit up next to him.
“You… talk in your sleep,” you say softly, though your face is a bit hot.
Ashveil’s expression shifts from sleepy confusion to horror.
“…Did I… say something?” He asks now embarrassed. He tries to play it cool, but the flush creeping down his neck betray him completely.
You nod, smiling at his reaction — at how adorable the legendary La Mancha can be.
“You did,” you whisper to him. “You said you love me, and how you want me to notice you.”
Ashveil’s eyes widen, and his ears turn red. For a moment, the cool detective looks adorably panicked. Then he let out a soft, defeated laugh, closing his eyes and putting his hat on his head.
“I… did not,” he mumbles, tugging his hat to cover his eyes. “A very… unfortunate dream. Please forget you heard anything.”
You laugh softly and tug his hat back up so you could see his flushed face.
“It was a very sweet dream, then,” you tease gently. “And I don’t want to forget.”
You cup his cheek and guide his face to look at you.
“I don’t want to forget,” you repeat. “Because… I feel the same way.”
“You… do?” He whispers; his voice cracks adorably.
You sigh playfully-annoyed.
“I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it, Mr Detective.”
Ashveil laughs at your teasing.
“I suppose my subconscious is braver and more perceiving than I am,” he says, smiling fondly with pink cheeks.
When you two are about to lean into each other for a kiss, you hear a click, and a white flash almost blinds you.
A group of furbos — who have been apparently watching the whole scene unfold before them — are taking photos of the two of you.
Ashveil pulls away, and looks at the furbos annoyed and embarrassed. When he’s about to open his mouth and scold them, he’s got interrupted by them.
“Detective Ashveil and his assistant—“
The furbos continue to chatter among each other about the love story between the two of you.
Ashveil lets and deep and embarrassed sigh. He wraps his arms around you and buries his face into your neck.
“...how undignified,” he mumbles into your skin.
You smile fondly, holding him closely. Your hear swell with happiness at how this man can be both intimidating and awkward, and at the feeling loved by him.
