#by the end she's ready to snap both of their spines if she has to hear another backpedal

[pennamepersona]

trilogy era wrightworth really is two people trading off singing won't say i'm in love

[elliesfireflys]

Little Secrets

bbf!Ellie Williams x Reader

Summary: Your older brother swore to her that if she layed a finger on you, she’d be in some deep shit. Let’s just say neither of you listened to him.

2.3k words (i’m sorry)

warnings: Smut (😮) oral, fingering, tit play (r! receiving) swearing.

a/n: havent wrote smut in so long sorry i’m rusty oh my.

It was a warm sunny august morning. August of course being the hottest month where you live, you were relaxed on your bed in a tank with some random pair of shorts you picked out of your laundry.

Your older brother barges through the door with sweat dripping down the crown of his head.

“Hello? Do you not hear me screaming your name downstairs dumbass?” he huffs out raising one of his eyebrows with attitude.

“I have my air conditioning blasting, and my door closed. So no I don’t hear you, dumbass.” You say emphasizing ‘dumbass’ at the end of your sentence, mocking him.

“Well, Ellie’s coming over in 10. So don’t start none of your bullshit when she gets here.”

Ellie Williams. Your brothers best friend since the 3rd grade, she was attractive to say the least. Her auburn hair always perfectly framing her face, those green eyes that get your cheeks dusted with pink when she looks at you.

“Hey. Did you hear anything I just said?” Your brother annoyingly snaps you out of a trance.

“Yeah yeah, Don’t start with my bullshit.”

——

About 15 maybe 20 minutes passed after you had your conversation about Ellie with your brother when you heard the doorbell ring.

“Ellie’s here!” Your brother yelled from downstairs, which u heard him this time as you kept your door open and air conditioning low this time because you wanted to hear when Ellie came in.

“Hey, what’s up.”

Ellie. Her low voice could send shivers down your spine (it has before). You make your way down the stairs and greet her. As you reach the bottom of the steps you see the girl herself. She’s wearing a pair of black sweats and a black shirt with rings adorning her hands. She takes notice of you, eying you up in down taking you in. Her eyes rest on your chest for a second too long as you feel your face heat up.

“Hey Els.” You bat your lashes a few times at her, feeling a boost of confidence.

“Hey.” Is all she says back to you. An awkward silence fills the space between you, your brother, and Ellie.

“Okay well, me and Ellie are gonna play video games down here so you can go upstairs now, bye.” He says motioning his hand in a ‘go away’ action.

“Actually i’m going to heat up the left over pizza from yesterday, do any of you want some?”

“I‘ll have a slice, left over pizza sounds good right now.” Ellie practically whispers, scratching the back of her neck. She does this when she gets around you. You don’t know why, but she just does. It’s cute.

To Ellie’s defense, she has always had a thing for you. Ever since she met you she had always found you attractive, even before she knew she liked women. And as you both grew older, and you developed more. Her little crush on you had only gotten worse, your brother though, had basically made Ellie swear to not do anything with you. That was the one thing holding her back from telling you how she truly felt.

“Okay, i’ll go heat it up now.” You turn on your heels towards your kitchen behind your living room where Ellie and brother had been seated, setting up his playstation.

A while had passed and the pizza was done heating up, as you were about to call Ellie to come get her pizza you hear her and your brother scream as they both died in whatever game they were way to into.

“Hey Ellie the pizzas ready!”

She quickly gets up from her seat on the couch half whispering an “I’ll be back” to your brother as she makes her way to the kitchen.

“Smells good, do you have any ranch?” She says as she grabs your hip with one of her hands and grazes her hips against your ass as she gently moved you aside so she can open the fridge.

You stand there frozen in the spot she moved you to for a second before speaking up, stuttering over your words for a moment.

“Uhm… you use ranch?”

“Yeah, it um. It just taste better than plain cheese pizza..” She says, seeing you both visibly flustered from the encounter just moment ago.

“El! You said you’d be right back but take 20 years to grab a fucking slice of pizza, i’m already on the next level!” you hear from the living room as your brother raises his voice to grab Ellies attention.

“Bro. I’m coming!” She raises her voice louder in reply. “Thanks for the pizza, and the ranch” She thanks you, holding up the bottle of ranch she found.

“Yeah, no problem.” You say as you take your slice and rush upstairs to your room.

Putting on something to watch but not even paying attention, as the only thing running through your mind was how Ellie pulled that stunt today.

You just had to get her back.

——

A few hours passed as it was dark out and you could still hear your brother and Ellie talking, they’ve moved on from video games to colleges.

You take your pizza plate and bring it downstairs to throw away. When you pass the couch in the living room, you and Ellie make eye contact. You both wanted each other, it was so obvious.

“Hey, Ellie’s sleeping here tonight, so don’t do anything. I mean it.” Your brother try to use a stern voice to you.

You make your way over to the couch, on Ellie’s side, leaning your hands on the arm rest of the couch purposely pushing your tits towards Ellie’s face. Her breath hitched as she took notice in how close you were to her.

“And what would we do?” You wait for either one of them to answer. “Exactly. Don’t get your dick all twisted.” You end the conversation by going upstairs for the night. Or at least until your brother was asleep.

Ellie had slept over many times before, she sleeps on the couch for some reason. Your parents were out tonight and we’re going to be gone till morning, all you had to do was get Ellie in your room. More specifically, your bed.

It was quiet in the house meaning your brother had gone to bed and Ellie was downstairs, she doesn’t sleep that fast so she had to have been up. You make your way down to your kitchen to grab a glass of water.

Looking towards the couch, Ellie wasn’t there, blankets were messed up so she had to have gotten up to use the bathroom. Proceeding to the kitchen is where you find Ellie, she’s turned around in her white wife beater which make her muscles pop and her sweats from today. She finally turns around and notices you, jumping back startled.

“Jesus. Fuckin’ scared me, why are you creeping around?”

“I’m just grabbing a glass of water calm down.” You grin finding it funny.

“It’s not funny, what if you could’ve been a murder?” She says in a low voice, the one that sends shivers down your spine, she moves towards you slowly, as if she’s testing you.

You hum “Maybe a little funny, you wanna know what’s not funny though?” she nods her head for you to continue “You pulling shit like what happened earlier.” You step forward meeting her green eyes slightly looking up as she was the taller one.

“What do you mean, babe?”

Babe. She knew what she was doing. And she was doing it well. “When you just had to move me by yourself and couldn’t just ask me to move? Yeah, shit like that.” You move your face up to Ellie’s, still holding eye contact as your lips brush against each other.

Soft breaths are shared between you too, both wanting to give in and just go for it. “I can’t.” Ellie pulls away fast and leans on the counter crossing her arms looking down. If it wasn’t for the little night light your parents set up in the kitchen, you wouldn’t have been able to see Ellies red cheeks.

You move closer to her, still not wanting to give up, eventually being almost chest to chest again. “Why can’t you give in El.” She breathes a long sigh before speaking “Your brother. He always told me to never do anything with you. And to show respect to him, and you, I always listened. It feels like hell trying to not give into you. But you’re his little sister.”

Your brain is moving a lightning speed trying to take in what Ellie had just said, so she has had feelings for you, just never voiced them. “Ellie, you’re 19. You can decided if you want to give in or not. You’re not my brothers puppy. And I am not that little girl anymore.” You move your face closer to hers again, chest to chest, her hands snake towards your waist. Resting them there lightly, as if you were delicate as porcelain; going to break at any moment.

“Give in.” You breathe against her lips. And that’s all it took for her to finally give in. Pressing her lips hard against yours, eventually slowly moving each others lips in a rhythm. The kiss was sloppy, tongues intertwining with each other, spit starting to drip down chins. It was like it would be your last time kissing. She grips your hips harder against her own hips, practically grinding you down on her, giving you small friction.

“Ellie. Please.” You whine out as you move from her lips to her neck leaving a trail of kisses, softly sucking on a spot, not hard enough to leave a mark. “What do you want baby. Say it.” She breathes out, tugging at your hair with one hand. “I need you. Ellie please I need you.” You pull back from her neck looking deeply in her eyes. “Fuck. Let’s go to your room.”

You take her hand and lead her to your room immediately shutting and locking the door. When you turn around Ellie pushes you against the door attacking your neck with kisses and bites. “You have no idea how long i’ve wanted to do this.” She says in between kisses. She waste no time and starts lowering herself, landing on her knees in front of you. Her calloused yet gentle hands run up your thighs, reaching your red lacy panties as your breath hitches. “Can I take these off?” looking up at you doe eyed and pupils blown out with lust. You nod fast as she almost rips them off.

She hooks one of your legs on her shoulders holding you up as she moves her middle finger to rub tight circles on your clit, making you moan from the sudden action. “Fuck, you sound so pretty.” She says as she removes her finger and replaces it with her tongue, circling your clit and going side to side, she starts to suck on your bud leaving you moaning from pleasure. “Ellie- oh my god. fuck, more.”

“Yeah?, what do you want baby, gotta hear you say it.” at this point her mouth on your sensitive clit was enough for you to barley form a sentence, yet you still yearned for more. “I want your fingers El. want em really bad.” You trail one hand down your body to her head, grabbing her hair pushing her deeper into your pussy. “Since you asked so nicely.” She barley gets out as you’re holding her close, she takes 2 fingers and gently pushes them in. Waiting to see if it’s too much for you. Of course it was not and you moan louder from the stretch of her fingers filling you up, she starts to move in and out of you. Hitting the spot with her long fingers every thrust.

Her other unoccupied hand moved up and underneath your sleep shirt squeezing at your tit and pinching your nipple which is enough to get you to the edge. “Oh fuck. Ellie i’m so close.” she hums into your pussy. “I want you to come on my fingers baby, give it to me.” she says looking up at your fucked out face. A few more thrust and you cum all over her fingers, making a mess on her hands, which she wasn’t complaining. If it wasn’t for your leg on her shoulder holding you up, you would’ve collapsed as you come down from your high.

“Oh my god, you did so good for me.” She says kissing your thigh and standing from her knees, she couldn’t help but suck your juices off of her fingers, holding eye contact with you. You pull her in for a kiss, lips molding with each other as you taste yourself off of her tongue. You both pull away and stare at each other with smiles.

“I should get downstairs.” Shes reaching for the door handle as you grab her wrist. “Just sleep up here tonight, please.” you give her a pleading look but it doesn’t seem to work on her. “Your brother wakes up really early for no reason, and if he sees i’m not there and i’m up here, he’ll kill us both and you know that”

You sigh, moving out the way so she can get through and open the door, as she’s about to close the door and go downstairs she turns around to you and gives you a passionate kiss. “Goodnight. I’ll see you in the morning when we have to act like nothing happened.” She earns a giggle from you “Yeah, goodnight El.” she closes the door and heads downstairs to finally go off to bed.

In the morning, you and Ellie would not stop looking at each other and slightly giggling. “Guys. What the fuck is up with you two today.” your brother questions looking between you too as you turn to look at Ellie and she turns to look at you.

“Just. Long night I guess.”

[loveshotzz]

Strange Love with Rockstar! Eddie or Punk!Steve!

reader has a love/hate relationship with him. total enemies to lovers type trope. reader is caught hate fucking one of them in a car or bathroom and when asked about it she simply says the iconic line “I don’t have to fucking tell you anything”

Rockstar Eddie x fem!rockstar reader

summary: You and Eddie seem to hate each other, so why can’t you keep your hands to yourself?

warnings: 18 + ! cocky eddie, mean reader, switch eddie and switch reader, oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up!), cream pie, semi public sex.

word count: 3.3k

A/N: another blurb (aka one shot 🙄) for my follower celebration and to break steve streak with some eddie! I hope you enjoy. Comments, likes, and reblogs are always super appreciated if you enjoy 💕

“Jesus Christ how have you not sucked that fucking thing to the center yet?!” Throwing his notebook down on the table his clipped tone breaks you out of your pre-show warm up.

Twirling one of your drumsticks in between your fingers with ease, you bring your attention to the fuming metal head making sure to slurp down the sugary build up in your mouth as loud as you can.

“Jealous I’m not sucking something else Munson?” Pulling the remains of the lollipop out of your mouth you watch his eyes follow the string of spit that connects to your red tinted lips. Batting your eyelashes at him, you smirk at the eye roll it earns you.

“In your fucking dreams.” He growls but you know damn well that’s exactly what he wants.

Barry and Jeff’s eyes widen from across the room, knowing exactly where this was headed. Gareth had handed over his drumsticks to you temporarily while he nursed a broken wrist, and despite Eddie’s protest here you were.

It always started this way, bickering before every show throwing insults at each other desperate to bruise the others' ego before hitting the stage. Creating a tension so thick it could only ever end one way once the adrenaline started coursing through your veins.

With purple and green bruises painted across your kneecaps and a slight limp in your walk from the last time you ran your mouth, you were ready to take no prisoners tonight. Especially when he stepped off the stage looking like that.

His tattooed skin glowed with a sheen of sweat under the lights in the back, his sleeveless white Iron Maiden shirt clung to what seemed like every muscle flexing underneath. Your eyes following the salty droplets falling from his bangs, you hate that you want to catch them with your tongue.

“You were off on the count down tonight.” Eddie’s critique sends rage down your spine as he brushes past you to high five Jeff. The temporary haze his body had you in quickly fading.

“I wasn’t off on dick, you came in too early.” Quick to snap back, you try to ignore the bulge growing in his pants. He was picking a fight on purpose. The menacing glint in his chocolate eyes gave himself away the moment they connected with yours.

“Sweetheart, I think you and I both know I don’t come early.” The cocky grin that spreads big across his face makes your hands twitch, fingers wrapping tightly around your drum sticks you will yourself not to chuck one at him. His face starting to look more and more like an easy shot when he throws you a wink.

Snorting loudly, you don’t give him the satisfaction. Your reaction only making it worse, as he narrows his eyes at you, shooting daggers at your knowing smirk. Insulting his sexual performance in front of his friends was always the quickest way to get under his skin.

“No shame in coming early Eddie, at least one of us gets too.” Your eyes catch the women’s restroom as you near the end of the hall. Flipping him the double bird, you push the bathroom door open with your back making sure to throw him the nastiest look you could muster before disappearing from his view. The boys “ohhh’s” filling your chest with pride at your victory.

Taking a shaking breath, you curse the amount of slick already ruining your underwear. Thighs pressing together in search for friction when you think about the way you just made his jaw clench. Thankful that the two stalls in the bathroom were empty, you set your drum sticks down on top of the soap dispenser before running a stream of cold water for yourself. Splashing some against your chest and neck it’s almost enough to calm the fire Eddie set ablaze inside of you.

The loud creak of the door opening snaps your head up, eyes watching from the mirror the sound of the lock clicking into place is followed by heavy footsteps. His heavy footsteps.

Rounding the corner Eddie Munson looked like he wanted to eat you alive.

“Real funny joke back there.” Big black boots stopping a few feet away from you, he crosses his arms over his chest before leaning against the wall. “Like I don’t make you cum screaming my name every other night.”

“Oh fuck off.” Rolling your eyes at him through the reflection you shut the water off, turning around to face him you make sure to mimic his stance pushing up your tits in the process. Plush lips twitching, he was onto you.

“I think you love saying my name actually.” Tapping a ringed finger on his full lower lip he pushes himself off the wall. Long legs making it easy to close the little space that was between you. The tobacco, weed, and sweat that dripped from his pores only added to your mess.

Crowding your space, he cages you in with both hands gripping the sink behind you. Ducking his head down till his lips brush against the shell of your ear, you can’t stop the shudder that runs through your body when you feel him smile against it before continuing.

“I think you dream about all the different ways I make you say my name, I know I dream about all those pretty little noises that I get from you.” Nipping at your ear lobe, his new sweetness has your resolve starting to break already as your arms start to come undone. Hands finding a new home on the button of his jeans.

“But then you start actually talking and my dick goes soft.” Dimples poking through his cheeks he pulls back to catch your reaction, more than proud of himself for thinking he got the upper hand. He’d almost gotten you to fold already.

The sting of his words sink in at the same time you feel his growing erection press against the top of your thigh. Meeting his gaze, the smug look on his face quickly turns into confusion when you give him a Cheshire smile.

“This doesn’t feel very soft to me baby.” Cupping his junk he hisses when you give it a good squeeze, feeling it twitch under his zipper you knew he was lying through his teeth.

His hands leave their place on the sink to grab at your hips, bruising fingers digging into your soft flesh adding to the almond shaped clusters already there from the nights before. Regaining control you continue to palm him, his heavy breathing becoming music to your ears. Reaching up on your tippy toes it's your turn to press your lips to his ear, relishing in the way you make him shudder just the same.

“You know what I think Eddie?” Nudging your nose into the dampness of his curls you suck his earlobe in your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks till he moans. His grip on you almost becomes painful.

Releasing it with a pop your fingers work at the button of his jeans stopping at the zipper when you don’t get an answer.

“I think the only reason you didn’t want me covering for Gareth is because of how bad you wanted to fuck me and you didn’t think I’d feel the same.” You’re not gentle when you pull the zipper down, almost feeling bad when Eddie sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck to hide the broken groan.

Stuffing your hand down his pants you’re quickly met with the stickiness of his precum that already covered the inside of his boxers. Smirking against his ear he wasn’t so tough hunched over you like this. Completely at the mercy of your hand as it wraps around the thick base of his shaft pulling him free from his confines with a quick pump.

“And now that I’ve fucked you.” Eddie’s blown out eyes watch you spit in your hand before wrapping it around his length again. Gliding across him with ease his hips meet your pump when your thumb swipes over his leaking tip. “You don’t know how to handle it cause you want me to be yours huh?”

Stroking him with purpose all you get is a nod a low whimper. Biting your lip you suppress your own moan seeing him like this.

Sinking down, your fishnet covered knees hit the ground in front of him. Ringed hands finding their way back to the sink as he looks down at you from between his arms. The warm chestnut in his eyes turned onyx, you had all the control right now.

Making a show of stroking his length with both hands, you look up at him from underneath the hood of your lashes making sure his eyes are on you before you take him in your eager mouth. You were gonna make him eat his words from earlier just for fun.

Flattening your tongue you lick a long stripe up the side humming in satisfaction when he twitches in your hand. Taking his tip between your lips, your tongue is greedy to lap up the pearly white liquid leaking from the top. Eyes rolling in the back of your head when the saltiness of it hits your taste buds, you take as much of him as you can into the heat of your mouth without warning.

“Holy fucking shit.” Moaning loud enough to echo off the walls, his hands grip the sink is tight enough to see the milk of his knuckles.

Your hands hold the back of his thighs pulling him closer, relaxing enough to take him till tears threaten to spill from the corners of your eyes. You hollow out your cheeks till his ruddy tip hits the back of your throat, his coarse pubic hairs brush against the tip of of your nose. Vision going white behind closed eyes. His brain short circuits under the quick work of your mouth, unable to even register what’s happening till the heaviness in his balls warn him of his impending release.

“Wait - shit - fuck - you’re - you’re trying to make me cum aren’t you?” Your taunting words from earlier ring loud in his head, he knew this was too good to be true.

Humming in response the vibration is almost enough to have him shooting down your throat. Mustering enough strength to regain control, he tries to pull away from you but your grip on his thighs only tightens, relaxing your throat even more.

Groaning when you take him even deeper than before you hear the metal of his rings clank loudly against the porcelain of the sink, holding it hard enough to break as he tries to fight off his orgasm.

“You’re done.” His tone is final when his fingers tangle themselves in your hair, pulling he rips you away from him with enough force for him to fall from your mouth with a slick pop.

Chest heaving as he tries to regain his breath, he looks like a man driven insane when the blacks of his eyes look down at you on your knees. Lips red and swollen from sucking his cock like your life depended on it, he would never get sick of seeing you like this.

“Now stand up and bend over the sink for me like I know you want to.” Voice dripping with want, your underwear was becoming almost uncomfortable from soaking through them all night.

Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you use his hips as leverage to pull yourself up letting the length of your body rub against his painfully hard erection in the process. Hissing with the extra sensitivity he grips your cheeks with one hand when you're finally back on your feet.

“I’m not cumming quick and you’re gonna cum first. You got that?” Nodding between his fingers, his lips turn up in the same cocky grin from before knowing he finally had you where he wanted you. He always knew when your eyes glazed over like this.

Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips he nudges your nose with his before whispering “Turn around.”

Following his instructions you face towards the mirror again, your hands finding purchase on the sink where his just were. Leaning forward to give him the access he wanted, your eyes meet your own in the reflection. The person staring back to you is almost unrecognizable. A needy tear streaked mess you watch him flip your skirt up over your hips, his eyes darkening even more when he sees the insides of your thighs coated with your own arousal.

“Always so fucking wet for me.” The strain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but you were too needy to be an asshole now. Wiggling your hips to taunt him, you look back over your shoulder. Blown out eyes meeting yours the expression on his face is enough to have you flutter around nothing.

His big hands grab at the doughy flesh of your ass. Watching the way it jiggles when he smacks it, the sting of his rings going straight to your cunt. FIngers curling around the tops of your tights he pulls them down with your underwear to your ankles. The cool air of the bathroom making you shiver when it hits your soaked folds, your body begging for more.

Running two fingers through your slit, he rubs a few small circles with pointed pressure to your bundle of nerves before collecting more of your slick to use as lube. The squelching noises at just his small touches has your cheeks burning hot, your body betraying your cocky words from before.

Coating himself enough to slide in easily, you feel his mushroom top spread through your folds. Rubbing himself down the length of you he chuckles darkly when you chase more with your hips.

“God, you’re gonna take me so well baby. You’re already such a mess.” Pressing himself to your entrance, you brace yourself tighter against the sink preparing for the stretch. You always had to get used to the feeling of him splitting you in two.

Nodding dumbly your neck goes slack when you feel him finally push himself in, walls stinging as he slowly makes himself fit.

“She’s sucking me in so good, so fucking tight. This all mine? Tell me it’s mine.” Pussy drunk already, Eddie didn’t care to put on his usual front anymore. You felt like heaven around his dick and he wanted you for himself.

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer or adjust before he pulls himself almost all the way out before abruptly shoving himself back in. The burn of his harsh thrusts making you cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain, the pleasure slowly becoming more prominent when he starts hitting your g spot with every deep stroke.

His hands grip your hips to keep you close, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty stalls as he keeps up with his punishing pace.

“I asked who’s pussy this is baby.” One hand snaking between your jiggling thighs, two fingers quickly find your more than needy clit. Rubbing harsh figure eights he bends over so his chest presses against your back, somehow pushing himself even deeper. You swear you can feel him in your stomach like this.

“Answer me.”

Jaw slack and eyes scrunched close, the familiar tightness in your gut is getting closer and closer to letting go. Stopping the motion of his hips when you don’t give him what he wants, your eyes snap open as a strangled whine leaves your throat.

“I’ll give you what you want princess just tell me who your cunt belongs to.” his tone is full with dominance when he whispers in your ear, you muster enough brain power to find your voice.

“Yours.” Barely above a whisper when it leaves your mouth, he adds pressure to your bundle of nerves but just enough to tease.

“Louder.” Pressing his hips deeper into you, it’s enough to have you claw at the sink.

“YOURS” Too desperate to care about how he was going to hold this moment over your head, the need to cum was becoming overpowering after the day of relentless teasing. This is how it always was, the dynamic switching almost every time.

“Good. Fucking. Girl.” Each word coming out with a punch of his hips, his fingers make quick work against your clit obsessed with the way it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head.

Being able to watch your face from the reflection of the mirror while he railed you from behind with everything he had only made it that much harder not to spill deep inside your velvet walls. Fingers working overtime on your swollen nub, the furrow of your brows and the way you start to tighten around him tells him all he needs to know.

“Come on baby, make a mess of me.” His thrusts became more deliberate in your undoing, each one hitting deeper than the last.

“God - Eddie!” It’s overwhelming when it hits you, seeing stars behind your closed eyes as your walls constrict tight enough to earn a loud drawn out ‘fuck’ as your release washes over him.

“That’s it, that’s fucking it.” The blunt ends of his nails dig into the soft bruised skin of your hips as you feel him twitch inside of you.

Warmth filling your belly as he paints your insides white, you’re left a panting mess while he shudders on top of you. His orgasm hitting him in waves with the way your walls continue to milk him long after yours is done.

Keeping himself inside till he’s soft enough to slip out on his own, your soft moans fill the quiet at the loss of contact. The fullness that had you a trembling mess was replaced with that familiar dull throb of the after effects.

“You gonna be nice to me now or what Munson?” Putting himself away his eyes meet yours in the mirror. Their soft brown returned to their normal warm state, catching the beginnings of a small smile playing across his lips, his cheeks flush crimson.

“Depends on if you’re gonna be nice to me.”

Pulling your tights and underwear back up, the fact that you were keeping his seed inside like it was normal had his cock almost kick up again. You made him insatiable.

“I think I’ve proven to be very nice.” Biting your lip into a smile you lean back against the sink batting your eyelashes at him for good measure, your flirting only making him blush harder despite everything.

“I think we can work something out, who knows I might not even want Gareth back at the end of this.” The laugh he earns quickly becomes his new favorite sound.

Slinging his arm around you, he pulls you deep into his side before both of you make your exit out of the bathroom together. The boys all waiting around the hallway with knowing looks all over their faces. Taking in your more than chummy body language Barry’s the first to speak up.

“So does this mean you two are together or something?”

Jeff refuses to look you in the eyes, making it more than obvious they had gotten a little show, neither one of you really trying to be quiet.

“We don’t have to fucking tell you.” Eddie snaps scared that their questions will sabotage what he just got.

“Calm down man.” Raising his hands in defense Barry backs off “Just trying not to get whiplash with this sudden change of heart.”

Squeezing your shoulders tighter you reach up on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his cheek earning a unified groan from everyone, and a satisfied hum from the one that’s still dripping down your thighs.

——-

eddie tag list: @munsonology @munsonmunster @bimbobaggins69 @elthreetimes

[sarawritestories]

Dance With Me, Pretty Girl

Cassian X Fem (Plus size )Reader

Summary: Cassian has been away on a mission for over a month and Reader just misses him and she was having a low self esteem day when she comes home and finds a surprise for her

Content warning: Low self esteem, lonely, so much fluff, not proofread

Word Count: 1,199 words

ACOTAR Masterlist

 This past month has been exhausting. You had tried to keep yourself busy and Rhys and Feyre kept you busy with small assignments and watching Nyx, but you missed your mate. This mission Your High Lorrd had him on was the longest you’ve been apart since the war. You smiled at the memory of when the mating bond snapped for you.

It was something out of a romance novel you were on a ladder at the bookstore you owned, reaching to get a book at the top when your foot slipped. The next thing you knew two large muscular hands had caught you and were cradling you in his arms. Your eyes met his and the bond snapped. Heat crept up your face, “Thank you, you can put me down, I know I’m pretty heavy.”

The male chuckled and you caught gleam of a red stone on his chest and your eyes widened, you were mated to the General of the Night Courts armies, “Sweetheart, you are not heavy.” He puts you down, though his hand slid from your back and grazed your arm a shiver ran through your spine as goose pimples rose from your flesh. His calloused scarred hand lifts yours to his lips and plants a kiss there and electricity thrummed through your body. His eyes widened and you felt it, felt him tugging on the bond, “I don’t even know your name,” He whispered.

“Y/N my name is, Y/N.” He grinned and you couldn’t help but reciprocate one for him,

“Y/N,” he tries your name out on his lips and his voice makes your stomach flip. “What a gorgeous name,” His eyes rake over my body and my voluptuous curves. “For a gorgeous female. My name is Cassian.”

And you have rarely ever been a part since that day. Though you both agreed to wait to accept the mating bond until you got to know each other and the two of you ended up spending everyday together. And he made sure to worship your body and always made sure that you always felt beautiful.

He’s been gone for the month and the most you had gotten was small caress down the bond in the morning and before he went to bed. Just to let you know he was thinking about you. Today had been the hardest day though, you woke up and looking at yourself in the mirror had been hard. All your clothes fitted you in all the wrong places and every blemish was amplified. Your hair would not cooperate with you. So, your hair went up in a bun you wore one of Cassian’s T-shirts shirts closing the patches for his wings and placed on sweatpants.

Rhys and Feyre had let you stay in the river house while your mate was away. When you came downstairs, they smiled at you, “Morning, Y/N.” Feyre beamed.

“Morning, I think I’m going to go home today.” Rhys and Feyre exchanged a look.

Rhys nodded in understanding, “Sure would you mind stopping into the city and running some errands for us.

Errands turned into going from one end of the city to the other grabbing odds and ends things, Paint brushes, stationary, baby shoes for Nyx, okay you couldn’t resist stopping the baby store to shop for the heir they did not ask you to go, but you loved spoiling your nephew. By the time you finished shopping for them the sun was setting, and you were ready to sleep in your own bed.

Unlocking the door, your eyes widened when you saw rose petals all over the floor. The roses led a path to your living room. Once you shut the door you follow the petals and then you feel it. Feel him and you run to the living room where Cassian is grinning broad his wings tucked back is armor gone. He’s in dress shirt and slacks a bouquet in one hand a dress in the other, “Hi you.” His voice warms your skin like a tight embrace.

“Hi, I thought you were going to be gone for a few more days.” I move down and I get a smell of his scent of sandalwood.

Cassian places the flowers and dress down and scoops you in his arms. His fingers digging into your soft flesh. Rhys said you were feeling lonely and that I did enough. Told him I would come home straight away. Though I needed my girl distracted for a little bit to make her feel extra special.” He kissed your nose, and it caused you to giggle.

That would explain why Rhys sent you all over the city you nuzzled into his neck, “I missed you.” You whispered.

He squeezed you lightly, “I missed you too.” He put you down and handed you the flowers and the dress. “Will you get dressed for me, Sweetheart? We are having a date night in.” He smiles, “But I want to dress for the occasion.”

You nod your head, and he pressed his lips to yours. When you pull away and turn, he takes the opportunity to slap your ass and you glare his way and he simply responds with a wink.  You ran upstairs and got changed.

The dress was an evening gown that looked like it was dipped in starlight and the front had a deep V that accentuated your full breast and hugged your hips, it made you feel womanly and when you walked downstairs Cassian was pouring the wine. He looked up and his mouth dropped open. You felt self-conscious and hugged around yourself. “Don’t.” Cassian scolded walking over and pulling your arms from your body. “Don’t hide, you’re the most beautiful female in Velaris.”

I snort, “I’m sure Feyre and Mor would hate that you said that.

“I could care less about them. To me, you shine brighter than all the stars in the sky. I’m lucky to bask in a small fraction of that light.”  He held out his hand. “As a matter of fact, dance with me, pretty girl.” You placed your hand in his and he pulled your hand close to his chest his hand enveloping over yours. The other hand wrapped around your waist until your stomach meets his toned chest, “Stop it.”

“Stop what,” You asked sheepishly.

“Stop comparing your body to mine. I have always found your body sexy. Always found you sexy and now I’m dancing with my sexy wife.”  He pressed his forehead to yours, his eyes closing as the two of you began to sway with no music playing.

Your eyes fluttered close and gone are the self-doubt and concerns about life as he holds you close and swayed. The two of you spent hours just swaying around the kitchen where he whispered how much he loved you and was happy to be home. And in one swift move he pulls you put, spins you in and dips you, where he trails kisses from your neck all the way up to your lips where he lays so much passion and love in the kiss and down the bond. He was home and, in your arms, you were happy. Nothing else mattered.

[brain-rot-central]

Sonnet of the Lone Cardinal, Ch. 9

A/N: *YELLS "GOOD LUCK, BABE!" FROM THE ROOFTOPS*

WE MADE IT TO THE GALA, HOLY SHIT

Thank you to every single person that has liked, commented, sent anons, or showed any kind of support in any form for this silly little story. These last two months have been some of the shittiest of my life and I'm so happy be here with ya'll. I love you all so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Rating: Explicit (due to the themes, really. No smut this chapter.) Word count: 9.9k (I love you guys SO MUCH I'M SORRY) Pairing: Ascended Astarion x Female Tav (DU, named) Warnings: 18+, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, pregnancy, implied alcohol abuse, trauma, past abuse, PTSD themes, depictions of physical abuse, unhealthy relationship, death mention, depictions of murder and gore

Summary: It's the night of Wyll's charity event. Will Tav receive the answers she seeks from the Duke, or will more present themselves?

♥ Previous Chapter ♥ Link to Ao3 ♥ Playlist

They descend the master staircase, Tav drawing in a shallow breath as she hits the final step. As they turn the corner, arm in arm, she realizes how unsettled she is. Astarion was so close to saying it. Admitting to what they both know to be true, only to tear himself away at the last moment.

Her throat feels tight as she tries to swallow. Should he have said it, there's no doubt in her mind as to how the night would end up. Possessed by the urge to say it back, over and over, spending half the evening wrapped in each other's arms, making up for lost time. She'd guide his hands to her stomach, foreheads pressed together, and speak softly against his lips of what lay within. Of what will be, soon enough.

None of that will happen, now.

The thick aroma of the hors d’oeuvres being served wafts through the air, pulling Tav from her thoughts. The subtle sweetness of wine is complementary, surely free-flowing like waterfalls into the mouths and bellies of those gathered within the grand hall. She can hear muffled chatter from within the ballroom, along with the occasional clinking of glasses. Drawing in a breath, Tav dares herself to stare ahead.

Astarion turns to her, and she catches him from the corner of her eye. But as Tav raises her head to meet him, he quickly adverts his gaze. He’s silent for some time beside her, save for a conveniently timed clearing of his throat. Finally, he asks, “Are you ready, my dear?” Although he continues facing forward, Tav catches stolen glances from his periphery. 

She's still so very raw from their earlier bout, and the booming depth of Astarion's voice causes a shiver to run down her spine. Despite its seriousness, Tav can hear the concern laced within his tone. Her body jerks involuntarily as her nerves alight. “Yes,” Tav replies, forcing a smile to materialize on her face. She now dares herself to look upon him.

Astarion simply grunts in acknowledgement, refusing to meet her. He can't even look at me, now? she ponders to herself. A pit forms in her stomach, alongside a sharp cramp that leaves her wincing. She rests her free hand over her lower abdomen, closing her eyes as she draws another breath through her nose. Pursing her lips together, Tav breathes out. The tension pitted high within her chest unravels as the breath leaves her lungs.

But when she looks at Astarion again, she's awash with emotion once more. His jaw is taught with tension, threatening to snap. There’s a sheen over the reds of his irises, highlighted by the dull light of the candelabras lining the hallway. Tav knows this look. And as much as she'd like to blame the drink that lay heavy on his breath, she knows that isn't the only cause. 

He looks far away. 

Astarion only wears a distant expression when he's desperate to remove himself from the current. When his mind is elsewhere, shielding him. Protecting him until it’s safe to come back out. As if a switch has been flipped – the mask of the entertainer, the people pleaser, is falling into place. The actor is almost stage ready. To give the people what they came here to see.

The dissociation is taking root.

He's uncomfortable. Tav’s entire body shakes from the realization. What's worse is that he's forcing himself to do this. Putting himself on display for everyone, strutting around like some proud peacock for all to fawn over. Astarion once told her that a handsomely crafted face can open any number of doors. She wonders how many times he’s been forced into opening those doors. What prizes lay behind them.

Tav shutters again at the thought of all he's been made to endure. A deep ache settles within her chest, her gaze falling to the floor in front of her.

It's obvious now that Astarion was hoping for a better outcome to their earlier discussion. Perhaps a kiss or two, maybe even something more. Anything to help soothe the ache within him, knowing he was sending himself out to perform. Instead, he got the complete opposite – Tav backing him into a corner, pushing him to admit something he clearly isn't ready to share. 

Doubt begins to rear its ugly head within Tav’s heart.

Maybe she should have gone easier on him. His history is complicated. Of that, she knows. There are things Astarion doesn't understand due to two centuries of indentured servitude, like emotion, and how to coexist alongside another. Perhaps she should have been more patient with him. Perhaps she shouldn't be so demanding of him. He’s trying, afterall. Isn’t he?

Her heart skips heavy in her chest – a defiant thud, then a pause before resuming its normal rhythm. Pressure mounts once more and she suddenly finds herself choking back tears as her vision clouds.

No, Tav reassures herself, screwing her eyes shut. 

Astarion isn’t an innocent child needing protection behind her skirts. He’s taken lives – many, to be frank. He, himself, has died. He understands the delicate balance between the life before and thereafter, better than any mortal being could ever dream to. When Tav reopens her eyes, she lifts her head and looks straight in the direction of the ballroom. All sound drowns out from her ears. She clenches her jaw.

I deserve more. He should be more.

It's been a process, learning to give herself the grace to truly feel. Tavaria has taken the lives of so many people without second thought. Faces that are no more than blurs behind her mind’s eye, barely able to decipher one from the other. All she recalls is the incessant chanting within her mind. Scleteras’s shrill voice echoing, encouraging her to kill, kill, kill. The voices only grew louder when she found the others. Daydreams of what pretty corpses they'd make.

Especially Astarion. 

She'd gotten close, one night. Did her best to warn him before the urge took her completely. All Tav remembers is writhing against her restraints as Astarion looked on. Concern clouded his visage, mixed with the smallest drop of fear. Visions danced behind her eyes, of how beautiful his flesh would look laid out within the palm of her hand as she fileted it clean off his bones. How delicious his blood would taste on her tongue. Would it run hot, she wondered? Smell of rot and decay? She'd bathe herself with his entrails, feeling impossibly close to him, but not before successfully copulating with him. A high offering to her Father, securing the next generation of cursed Bhaalspawn.

Bhaal must be furious, looking upon her now.

But that was all months ago, and she rejected her birthright. Refused to be her Father’s vessel of chaos and murder. The day she turned her back on him is the day Tavaria chose life. And to her surprise, the chanting stopped. The urge stopped. She could breathe for the first time in what was likely years.

Since then, Tav has tried her best to walk the path of redemption. She can never bring back those who have fallen victim to her sins. The young tielfing bard’s face haunts her daily, smashed beyond recognition. But she's vowed to do better with however much life she has left. To be kinder. Show the compassion she was never given to others.

She’s chosen to be a good person. That should be reason enough as to why she deserves to hear him say it. To hear from his own mouth that he loves her and not have it be a figment of her imagination. 

And it's perfectly fine that she does. There's no reason to feel guilt for wanting what you deserve.

At this very moment, Tav stands next to a man that feels more like a stranger to her than ever before, all while their child grows within her. A man who wears the same face of the one she loves, yet acts so foreign to her.

She deserves to be loved in a way that is befitting of her, and she will not settle for anything less than what she deserves.

Without so much as another word, Astarion steps forward. Tav follows almost seamlessly, their arms still interlocked. They cross the threshold into the ballroom and are immediately greeted by copious pairs of prying eyes, all focused on them. Music swells from the band as they travel to the middle of the room, neither of them missing a step. 

As Tav looks out into the crowd, she recognizes a few faces from her short tenure in the City Watch – noblemen and ladies all dressed in their evening best. Their silk dresses and velvet frock coats are dyed in various elaborate colors and patterns. Jewelry adorned with precious gems hangs plentiful from their ears and necks. She nods and smiles as she passes, catching more than a few people ducking their heads after making brief eye contact. Their lips move in silent chatter to one another, but Tav can imagine their conversations: one of Baldur Gate's most eligible bachelors arriving arm-in-arm with the city's hero. The same hero who left him at the moment of their triumph.

How terribly poetic.

The band suddenly cuts out as they reach the middle of the room. Astarion retrieves his arm from around hers rather swiftly, and Tav steps back. The vampire takes a quick breath, wiping his head up. Applause rings out as he then turns to address the crowd. Astarion bows repeatedly, each time in a new direction, the reception growing louder. Tav again surveys all in attendance and decides to clap in tandem, all the while retaining her best face. 

The vampire lord then raises a hand – a gesture to signal the quieting of the crowd – and the applause slowly dies off. A smile is etched across his face, but it isn't his usual smile. Not the one he reserves for her. Tav shivers.

“Thank you all for such a warm introduction!” Astarion exclaims, boisterously. His open-mouthed smile stretches now across his face from ear to ear, the tips of his fangs gleaming in the light. 

Do they know of his true nature? Tav wonders as his teeth catch her eye. It's a question that hasn't dawned on her before this moment. He’s not necessarily trying to hide it. Many in the city knew of Cazador, but only as an aristocrat, bred from a long line of wealth. If they do know the truth about Astarion, it doesn't seem to bother anyone much. 

Tavaria again looks out among the crowd, studying them intently. Many of the ladies have fans covering their faces, though the ones who do not, Tav easily catches the barest glint of a blush sitting upon their cheeks as they watch Astarion swish about the floor. A single thread of what must be jealousy pulls tightly within her. It fades as quickly as it comes, dissolving into vapor as she releases the breath she’s holding.

Signs of Astarion's vampirism are so obvious to her, now that she's looking at him. Pointed fangs just peeking over his bottom lip as he smiles, ruby red eyes that glimmer in the light of the chandeliers, Cazador's bite scarred into the column of his throat. His complexion used to be ghastly, like that of one raised from the dead. But since the ritual, he's as pink as any mortal being. He blushes, even. 

And, gods, is he handsome. More so than any other man in existence. The sharp lines of his face, the subtle bump along the bridge of his nose. Tavaria understands all too well why the women, and even some of the men in attendance, look upon Astarion with such hungered stares.

Astarion clasps his hands together. He turns again to the crowd and says, “I'm sure we all know why we're here tonight, yes?” He gives them a moment to murmur an audible response before continuing, “And, no, unfortunately it's not just for my handsome face.” The room erupts into laughter. The vampire then raises a sharp brow, mouth curling into a sly smirk.

A horrid realization comes over Tav: These people could easily be sacrificial lambs, ripe for Astarion's picking. And he knows it. Worse yet, loves it. Loves having fools wrapped around his finger.

This is Vampire Lord Astarion, the entertainer. The socialite. The deceitful. Pulling from his past life as an at-will aristocrat; as many times as his master made him perform. It's such a well-practiced act that Tav can hardly tell when her Astarion ceased and this version took over. The transition occurred seamlessly right before her eyes. And if she didn’t know him better, she’d be thoroughly convinced that this is what he truly consists of. Tav watches in awe as Astarion flits across the floor, continuing to address all before him. Not a drop of worry remains present on his face, his countenance bright and inviting. 

It makes her gravely uneasy.

He lets the room swell for a moment, continuing his speech once it dies back again. “My dearest Lords and Ladies,” Astarion’s tone sends another shock wave down Tav’s spine. He speaks with the same sweetened vitriol as when they first met. Bile builds near the back of her throat, her mouth turning bitter.

“We come together tonight to celebrate one man who surely gets the job done,” the vampire continues. Astarion looks out into the crowd, lifting a hand to wave one finger. Tav follows his eyes. “One man, who puts honor and duty before all else.” Suddenly, he halts, having found his intended target, and he extends his hand. And as Tav traces his arm, she finds the man in question on the other end.

“Esteemed guests,” Astarion boasts, “it is with great honor that I introduce our man of the hour.” Astarion hesitates for a moment, the room eerily silent. He glances toward Tav; her breath hitches. She can see the contempt within his eyes, but he continues, loud and prideful. “Wyllyam Ravengard, your Grand Duke!”

Thunderous applause erupts from the crowd. Wyll, surrounded by the other members of the Watch, tilts his head politely in acknowledgement, giving several small bows. Servants then descend upon the guests, holding silver trays lined with glasses of sparkling liquid.

“And as such,” Astarion says, choosing a glass off the tray a servant presents to him, “may I propose a toast to our young Duke, who does oh so very much for his belovéd city.” 

Tav retrieves a glass from a servant, giving the contents a quick whiff. Champagne, and a damned good one, too. Astarion then holds out his glass, those in attendance following suit. Silence befalls the ballroom – the only audible sound being the fizzling of champagne. All eyes are on Wyll, who stands with his own glass, ready to receive his due.

“To Wyll,” begins Astarion, “for I could have not asked for a better traveling companion during our plight against the Absolute.” His eyes are thin slits as he speaks, expression forcibly strained.

He's lying. And so brazenly.

Astarion despised Wyll during their journey. Teased him about being the golden boy, only agreeing to be a dog for Mizora due to a subconscious desire to bed the she-devil. Some, if not all in part, influenced by Tav and Wyll’s short-lived romance. Astarion’s quips escalated in intensity not soon after, and remained sour right up until the end of their adventure together.

It's unsettling to her just how easily Astarion can slip into the mask of a perfect gentleman. Play any hand to his advantage, win over even the most suspicious of individuals. Is that what he's been doing to her this entire time, she wonders? Playing a game? Is there even still a line between what's real and what's for show?

Who is this man that wears the liar’s grin so unashamedly? He wears her lover's face, but this is not him.

Unless… their dynamic has changed? 

Tav finds that difficult to believe, but perhaps they've come to an understanding. Perhaps she shouldn't be so quick to judge their relationship. The men are partners now, after all. That demands some level of mutual respect.

…Right?

Raising the glass to his lips, Astarion drinks his champagne. The other occupants of the ballroom soon follow suit, as if following orders from a leader. Placing the glass to her lips, Tav tips it back just enough to make contact with her mouth before bringing it back down. She quickly scans the room – hardly anyone is looking at her. Likely no one has realized she didn't truly drink, and she sighs in relief.

Wyll then steps forward, glass still half full. He wears a white satin full suit with golden trim. His long locs are pulled back behind his shoulder in a low ponytail. A rapier sits upon his hip, swishing gently as he steps forward. “My sincerest gratitude, Lord Ancunín,” he says, taking his place by Astarion's side. The ballroom is silent again as the men stand eye-to-eye. Only the occasional sound of someone clearing their throat travels through the air. 

“Truth be told, I had my doubts about Astarion when we first met.” Wyll then turns toward the crowd before continuing, “but now, through his gracious donations towards the restoration of the Lower City, I can tell his heart lies in the exact same place mine does.” He begins nodding his head, as if agreeing with himself. “The abundance of love he has for this city and her people rivals my own.”

The patrons begin clapping and Tav furrows her brow. Idiots, she sneers to herself. Astarion would sooner watch this city burn than save it, especially if it meant protecting himself. How can Wyll not see that? How can they not see it?

“And so I also propose a toast,” Wyll exclaims, holding his drink up in the air. “To Lord Astarion Ancunín, the rogue-turned-hero. An undeniable asset to this city, and someone I am grateful to call a true ‘friend.’” His face is tightly guarded, wearing a well-practiced expression. Diplomatic in nature.

The room tips their glasses once more to their lips, and Tav does the same. Again she only allows the liquid to grace her lips for a moment before bringing it back down. Her stomach lurches as she watches the two men then embrace one another. 

The discontent on Astarion's face is clear to her: He wishes for nothing to do with Wyll and this entire affair. And then Wyll – precious, gracious Wyll who makes the best out of every situation – smiles brightly, genuinely welcoming of the vampire's embrace. If Wyll has any reservations surrounding their current situation, they're well hidden.

The men separate, eyes locked to one another, and Astarion raises a hand to Wyll’s shoulder. He gives it a pat, and then the two men turn toward the crowd. Applause rings out again and Astarion speaks, “I say it's about time we start this thing!”

Wyll nods, taking a quick sip from his glass. “Agreed, friend.” Their voices are loud and echo throughout the room. “Everyone!” Wyll states, “Please, enjoy the festivities! This is a night for all! Thank you!”

Astarion's hand then slips from Wyll's shoulder and he departs, but not before managing to squeeze out another smile. The band resumes playing, chatter resuming within the ballroom. Tav loses sight of the silver-haired vampire as he blends within the crowd. She bites at the inside of her cheek – Astarion is unhappy. But she can't worry entirely about him, at the moment.

Her eyes find Wyll as he crosses the room, back to the small gathering of people he was initially with: Marceline, a half-elven paladin of Lathander; Oliver, a human fighter like herself; and Lester, a high-elf who is a cross between a fighter and a mage. Together, they make up Wyll’s personal division of the City Watch.

Admittedly, Tav had found Lester’s skill quite peculiar. ‘I'm somewhat of a battle mage,’ she recalls him saying. Tav had initially laughed at the insinuation, though she soon found it to be true. One afternoon, Lester used his magic to hold his enemies in place, and then proceeded to bring his mace down hard over them. Needless to say, Tav found a new respect for the man, after that.

Tav places her still-full glass of champagne on a tray held by a servant, then smooths out her dress. Astarion had suggested speaking to Wyll, should she wish to know more about their arrangement. And as she makes her approach toward Wyll, Marceline is the first to notice.

“Tavaria!” the half-elf exclaims. She bolts over to Tav, raven hair lifting off her shoulders from the momentum. Marceline hugs her, warm and tight, nuzzling her face against her hair. Tav returns the hug, raising her arms to encircle the woman. As Marceline steps back, she says, “Gods, we were all so worried about you!”

Tav raises a brow, allowing Marceline to take her by the hand and lead her back toward the group. “What ever do you mean, Marceline?” she asks, curiously.

Marceline stops, as does Tav. As she looks at her, Tav can see the slight pull in her bottom lip. “...You didn't show up for work yesterday, Tavaria.”

Tav’s eyes grow wide with surprise. “I… I what?”

“We were going to send a patrol to your flat,” Marceline explains, resuming her initial course, “but Wyll refused to grant it.”

Tav feels herself being brought closer to Wyll; watches as his eyes land on her. Though, her mind is a million realms away. Has she really been so preoccupied that she forgot her duty?

…Has she forgotten herself?

“Ah, there she is!” Wyll states jovially, a smile stretched across his face. His demeanor is warm and welcoming. It hints nothing of him being cross with Tavaria, despite her most recent transgression.

“Your Grace,” Tavaria says with a bow. “I am so–”

“Oh, Tavaria, please,” Wyll interjects, huffing out a laugh. “We know one another far too well for formalities. Please, speak to me as you would a friend.” He brings the champagne glass to his lips. “That is what we are, yes?”

A calm falls over Tav. One would think she'd grown used to it by now, but Wyll's patience and understanding always surprises her. “Of course, Wyll,” she agrees, giving him a smile of her own. “But I am still so very sorry for abandoning my post yesterday.” She shakes her head. “I fear that I don't know what's come over me, as of late.” Not necessarily a lie.

“You ’n this fancy lord fella have history, don't ya?” asks Oliver, outwardly. He's a stoutly man, bald and fills out his dark blue suit with hardly an inch of give. His words are slurred, his cheeks red and flushed. The tone he uses is somewhat accusatory, though Tav knows him well enough to be certain he means no harm.

Despite herself, Tav cocks a questioning brow in his direction. “We do… but how do you know about that?”

“Aye, Tav,” Oliver answers with a haughty laugh, “there are sonnets written ‘bout the two of ya.” He points his glass in her direction. “Down in the brothels, the bards sing of a young woman fallin’ in love wit’ an evil prince.” Oliver nods his head. “Pre’ty sure that’s you ‘n lover boy, no?”

A scowl settles on Tav’s face. She can feel the anger rising within her. It's on the tip of her tongue to inform the man that Wyll was once the closest thing to an actual devil, though she manages to hold off. No reason to throw him under the table. “Oliver, they've sung for ages about that,” Tav bites back. “I doubt it's just Lord Ancunín and myself they refer to.” 

Lester then snickers quietly, turning away as he brings a hand to his mouth. The blond is a man of few words, a stark contrast to Gale and other mages she's met. Yet when he does speak, his words carry heavy meaning. He and Tav share a sly grin. It's obvious to both that Oliver is full of drink and hardly worth the argument currently mounting.

“It's more than fine, Tav” says Wyll, finding an opportunity to break the tension. “I figured you needed a day off. You haven’t been yourself, as of late.” Wyll takes another sip from his glass. “But what I didn't expect,” he says, lowering his glass as he tips his face up toward Tav, “was to find you here.”

The fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. Gooseflesh breaks out over her arms, quickly glazing around the room. This isn't a conversation she wants to have out in the open, especially with Astarion lurking about. Tav dips her head and asks quietly, “Wyll, may we speak privately?”

The group exchanges glances, their expressions flat. They then nod to one another, and soon Marceline, Oliver, and Lester depart toward the refreshment table at the far side of the room, each giving Tav an uptick of their head as they walk past.

“Why are you here, Tavaria?” Wyll asks sternly once the others are out of earshot. He turns his whole body toward her. “I can only assume this means you're both–”

“It's complicated,” Tav answers, quickly. Wyll’s face then falls, an exasperated sigh escaping him. She feels her stomach nearly drop through the floor. She should have expected slack from Wyll about this. Or, really… from anyone.

“I see,” he remarks, placing a hand on his hip. Wyll chokes back the rest of his champagne just as a servant passes by, and he places the glass upon their silver tray. “Are you sure you want to do that?” he asks Tav, nodding politely to the servant as they depart. “Should I remind you of what he's done?”

Tav meets the questioning gaze of the servant looking back, and they quickly duck their head. Astarion has eyes and ears throughout the entire manor – not a detail she's forgotten. Though, she screws her eyes shut and draws a deep breath in. 

Wyll speaks of the ascension. 

The moment Astarion, the rogue, fell and Astarion, the vampire lord, took his place. Tav still hears them, even now – the shrieking of over 7000 souls perishing from this realm, banished to the depths of the Hells.

She remembers the fire behind Astarion's ruby red eyes as he rose, as if born anew. The manic laughter that tumbled forward from his chest as he confronted Ulma, slitting her throat. The pulsing artery of her carotid bathing him in blood, flowing freely into his mouth. 

She remembers the moan he let out as the woman's blood hit his tongue. The gurgling noises arising from her throat as she grew limp, falling into his arms. His body rocking in time with her twitching form as he finally sealed his lips over the wound, drawing more and more blood into his mouth.

And within moments, it was over. Ulma grew still, and Astarion dropped her to the floor in an unceremonious heap, completely lifeless. Astarion stood still for what felt like ages. The Gur who arrived with her soon fled when Astarion finally lifted his head, vowing to return with stronger numbers. And all the vampire lord did was laugh.

In the immediate aftermath, Tavaria and the others were horrified. The chance of Astarion turning on them next ran through each of their minds. Wyll vowed to stake him through the heart should he draw closer; Gale promised to cast spells to hold Astarion in place. Tav had never feared Astarion up until that point. Even with his fangs seated deep within her neck, she still trusted him to take just enough. Though, as he turned to face her, blood smeared across his face, dripping down his chin… A chill ran through her heart.

His smile is what did it. Wide, almost goofy. It was as if he expected her to be as proud as he was. Finally, after two centuries of horror, he was now the cat who got the clotted cream. And, by the gods, did it feel good.

“I remember well enough what he's done,” Tav remarks solemnly, opening her eyes. She shifts her gaze away from Wyll. “And all he continues to do.”

Wyll cocks his head upward, narrowing his eyes. “So you know?” he probes, cautiously.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Tav confirms, moving her head in agreement. “In fact, that's the entire reason I stand before you now. Astarion suggested I speak with you about what happened.”

Wyll is stoic for a moment, unwavering. Tav questions for a moment if she somehow misread the situation, but Wyll bursts into a sudden fit of laughter, placing a hand on his chest. The duke then shakes his head. “At least he's still a character,” he says, continuing to laugh. His arms fall back down to his hips. “But petty, no less. The man doesn't even have the common decency to wear a suit.” He then gestures toward Tav, hand waving up and down. “Though, he made sure you look the part.”

Heat floods her face. “H-how do you know I didn't choose this myself?” Tav argues. How embarrassing, she thinks, for it be so obvious that Astarion clothed her. Like his personal doll.

Though, much to her relief, Wyll only chuckles. “Tavaria, you are capable of many things,” the Duke says, reassuringly. “But this?” He waves his hand up and down her form again. “I don't think you'd ever choose this for yourself.” And just as Tav's heart begins to sink, Wyll adds, “It's not necessarily a bad thing.”

“Wyllyam!” she scolds through gritted teeth. Tav then scans the room, silently praying no one is eavesdropping on their conversation. “Mind yourself, please!” She can feel how brightly her cheeks now burn, and before she turns back to Wyll, Tav catches Astarion's scowling at them from across the ballroom. “I-I’m your subordinate, Wyll,” Tav states within a hushed tone. A cold chill passes over her, and she finally meets the Duke's gaze once more.

Curse Astarion's attuned hearing. He's likely heard everything they've said.

“Of course, of course,” Wyll agrees. “My apologies; I may be a bit deeper in the drink than I realize.” He shakes his head. “Right. You're here to talk about my agreement with my lovely friend, Astarion.”

A jolt of pain shoots through her chest as she feels her cheeks flush. Their performance earlier was exactly that – an act. There's still no love lost between the two men. However, it sounds even more strained, now.

Tav gives Wyll a sullen glance. “I'm sorry, Wyll. When I found those men laying in the crypts below, I demanded answers from him.” She clasps her hands over her stomach, looking down. “But he refused to tell me everything.”

“Of course he did,” Wyll is quick to remark. He shifts his weight onto one hip. “Because your opinion of him is the only one he cares for, just as it's always been. Wouldn't want to sully that, now, would he?”

Tav raises her head to meet Wyll. How much of what Astarion told her is the truth? Perhaps she knows nothing at all. Would that be so out of the realm of possibility? “Wyll, what happened that night?” she asks, plainly. “Why was Astarion even with those men?”

Wyll sighs, casting his gaze to the floor before looking back up. He clicks his tongue, placing his arms over his chest. “When I became Grand Duke, I knew one of the first things I had to do was keep an eye on Astarion.” He wags a finger in the air. “The Szarr family has been around for centuries, and is considered one of the wealthiest in all of Baldur's Gate. For Astarion, in all of his unpredictability, to inherit such an estate, alongside boundless physical powers…” Wyll seems lost in thought for a moment before he continues, “...It’s a recipe for disaster.”

Tav nods in silent agreement. She knows he isn't wrong to assume as such. Only minutes after ascending did he test the boundaries of these new abilities, much to everyone else's horror. Mere hours after the ritual is when he demanded her mortal life be given to him. Wyll was absolutely correct to not trust Astarion. A fact that's difficult to argue against.

“So,” Wyll explains further, “I invited him to Wyrm’s Crossing one afternoon and proposed an agreement: Astarion aid me in cleaning up Cazador's morally questionable affairs, and I give Astarion his privacy. No meddling in his records, nor his personal business. And he agreed.” Wyll then smiles. “But only after I made good on my promise to position patrols outside of the palace, ready to move in should I give the word.”

Tav’s eyes widen in shock. “You would have laid siege upon him?” she asks, voice quivering.

“Without question,” Wyll answers, sternly. “Tav, I know of your history with him. I can only imagine how complicated it is now.” He leans in closer to Tav, nearly face to face. “But heed my words – the man is a devil masquerading as a man.” There's a sharp bite to his words that sends a shockwave shooting down her spine. Wyll shakes his head again. “He is not the Astarion we knew. Not even close.”

“...How can you be so sure?” Tav’s lips pull into a quirk. Astarion can't be all that horrid… Could he? Surely, she would know by now.

Wyll draws a deep breath in, releasing it with forced effort. “Cazador's depravity ran deeper than I thought. I knew the man would be involved in terrible business, but never did I think it would include the trafficking of humanoid creatures.” The Duke swallows, taking a moment of respite before adding, “I used this as leverage to broker a deal with Astarion. He'd continue business as usual, gathering sensitive information to help me build a case. And I stay out of his other affairs.”

“You used him?!” Tav exclaims, worriedly. “And with slavers, no less? Wyll, that's low! Even for you.”

“Is it crueler than Astarion forcibly taking half the city as his spawn?” responds Wyll, coldly. “I needed an in, Tav. Surely you can understand why.”

Just then, the leader of the band speaks, welcoming all to gather for their next song. Tav meets Wyll’s eyes, and he gestures toward the dance floor, holding out his hand for her. Reluctantly, Tav accepts, and they both head toward the floor.

They stand before one another, one set of hands interlocked adjacent to their waists. Tav's free hand rests atop Wyll’s shoulder, while he places his on her hip. The band then kicks in – a slow, melodic song – and the two begin to sway. Tav remembers the night they danced around the campfire together. A soft smile comes to her face, but it’s short lived. 

“I'm the reason Astarion was present that evening,” Wyll continues. “But I never instructed him on how to act.” The two part as Wyll stretches out their conjoined hands, and Tav twirls under both of their arms. She returns to him, and the two spin as they glide across the floor, the hem of her skirts swaying as they go.

“He told me he had no choice but to kill them,” says Tav within a broken breath. “That they would have gotten him first.”

Wyll then chuckles, throwing his head back. “And I'm sure he's expecting me to tell you the same. But that would be too far from the truth.” Wyll then separates from her again, releasing their hands to lay his palm flat against hers. Tav then follows his lead, moving so their bodies are parallel to one another, and they walk in a circle together. “You're a smart woman, Tav. I know that as fact,” Wyll states, confidently. “Do you really think the vampire ascendant is so defenseless? That he’d find himself trapped?”

Wyll then drops his hand, holding up the opposite, and Tav does the same. They mirror their previous formation, circling now in the opposite direction. “He had every chance of escaping, had he any desire to do so,” Wyll continues, facing Tav.

Tav meets his eyes, her body almost on autopilot. A chill runs down her spine as her mind makes sense of Wyll's inference. “Wyll, are you implying–”

“That he murdered those men on purpose?” Wyll interrupts, almost emphatically. The band then slows, music winding down, and Wyll comes to stand before her. “Yes, Tavaria. That is exactly what I'm implying. Because that's exactly what happened.”

Applause rings out around them as the music cuts out, but Tav can hardly hear it over the sound of her heart hammering away in her ears. Her blood runs cold. 

Wyll speaks sense; Astarion always had control of the situation. His life was never in danger. He killed those men for no reason other than he could. 

A game. A way to test his new powers.

The smell of iron dancing beneath her nose pulls her violently from her thoughts. Saliva pools thickly in her mouth as she scans the room, desperately searching for the source. She gasps aloud when she finally finds it.

There, in the far corner of the ballroom, stands Astarion. His eyes are fixed on her as he raises a silver goblet to his mouth. They share a glance long enough for Tav to watch the goblet then fall away, a small bead of crimson liquid dripping down his stained lips. Astarion is quick to snatch it up with the side of a finger, bringing it to his mouth.

The smell is intoxicating, and Tav’s vision grows fuzzy. She's suddenly hungry, starved for something she knows not what. It's what happened to her at the butcher shop, but it’s worse. So much more intense now than it was then.

Astarion's tongue darts from his mouth to envelop the digit, swiping the liquid from his finger. His eyes have yet to leave hers, and Tav feels an enigmatic pull overtake her.

Is that… blood?

The urge to lick the essence from his lips swells within her. To bury her tongue as deeply as possible within his mouth, savoring every last drop of blood. To swap their tainted saliva back and forth, until the taste all but fades into nothing.

Astarion then smiles, as if privy to her thoughts. Her mouth falls open with sudden realization.

…Has she grown a hunger for blood?

“Tavaria!”

Her concentration is broken as Wyll’s voice bellows in her ears. She whips her head in his direction, staring wildly. “I'm sorry,” Tav says, rushed. She sucks in a sharp breath and screws her eyes tightly. “My mind was elsewhere.”

Wyll’s gaze shifts to the far corner of the ballroom, where Astarion stands. The two men exchange deep scowls. “I don't want to get between whatever business you have with him, Tavaria,” he says, shifting his eyes back to her. “But if I were you, I’d run.”

Tav huffs out a laugh. She then looks to Astarion and finds that despite the women who have now joined him, he's still focused entirely on them. “What do you mean?” Tav asks innocently, turning her head to Wyll. “I don't think Astarion would ever harm me.”

“You have no idea who Astarion is anymore. None of us do.” Wyll states with finality. “And I'm deeply concerned by what may become of you should you stay.” He lifts his hands then to Tav’s shoulders, and she shudders under his touch. “There will come a time when he grows bored of this game.” Wyll tightens his grip. “I don't think I have to tell you what happens next.”

Tav’s eyes grow wide.

It's… a game. Their entire dynamic is a game of cat and mouse – who can outsmart the other first. How could she have been so blind? There's no love in this. No, this is about possession. Control. Deep down, a part of her always knew that. But she didn't think it was evident to anyone else.

“Your neck, Tav – I see it.” Wyll's eyes draw tightly together, his voice dropping an octave as he tilts his head. “He's already marked you.”

Bile pools in the back of her throat again as a sudden wave of nausea rushes forward. A hand flies to her neck, covering the remnants of Astarion's bite. 

Tav wants to vomit. She wants to run, scream, forget she ever let Astarion back into her life.

The realization dawns over her that Wyll is right: Astarion will inevitably force her hand, should she stay long enough. He will never let her live out a mortal life. Tav will become his puppet, his trophy. His most prized possession, completely dependent on him for sustenance. Astarion will keep her sealed tightly within this palace, never to see the light of day again. She will be expected to lay with him as he commands, satisfy him as he commands… To become completely subservient to all his desires.

She was right, and has been right this entire time. Astarion has only given her the illusion of choice, hoping that she gives into him willingly.

She feels hollow.

Tav stares blankly at Wyll, placing both of her hands over her lower belly. Her mouth struggles to form the words racing through her mind, unable to grasp them. She wants to tell Wyll everything. About her and Astarion, about the baby. He could hide her, far away from Astarion's reach. So that he could never find her or their child ever again. She knows he would.

But the aroma of a certain spiced cologne distracts her, and as Tav turns her head toward that particular corner of the ballroom again, she sees Astarion drawing closer.

Panic grips her throat, and almost instinctively she's ripping herself away from Wyll. “I–I need some air!” she shouts in his direction, briefly looking back. Wyll moves to speak, but Tav is beyond earshot. 

The urge to run consumes her, but to where? She scans the room desperately, tunnel vision beginning to set in. Finally, she finds large window pane doors leading out into the garden.

Tav dares to look back and finds Astarion now chatting with Wyll. Their expressions are taut, strained – she can see Astarion's fangs under the curling of his upper lip. Her heart skips strongly within her chest, and she looks again to the French doors.

It may be futile, as Astarion can simply sniff her out should he choose, but anything is better than staying here. She may as well try. With that logic in mind, Tav makes a desperate dash towards the doors. 

—----------------------------------------

Bursting out into the courtyard, Tav barrels down the stone steps. She runs into the hedges, stopping just short of a rose bush. The sound of tearing fabric rings in her ears, but she doesn't care. All that matters is keeping away from him right now. 

Fearfully, she dares herself to look back to the top of the stairs. Astarion soon comes into view, surveying the garden. Though, he makes no effort to follow her. Instead, he turns, wine glass in hand, and heads back into the ballroom.

A choked sob then escapes Tav's throat. Her body is overcome by violent shaking as she drops to her knees, clutching herself. How could she have been so blind? Was she charmed? Has Astarion been whittling away at her subconscious this entire time?

Just as she feels her resolve begin to shatter entirely, Tav catches the silhouette of another standing where Astarion just was. Brown hair tied into a high bun atop the man's head, the rest flowing down his shoulders. Mauve and midnight blue evening dress, complete with a vest and jacket. He seems to be searching for something.

“Gale?” Tav questions tentatively, poking her head from beyond the bushes. “Is that really you?”

The wizard looks out into the garden, his face lighting up as he finds her. “Tav!” he exclaims, running down the steps to meet her. “I knew I saw you talking to Wyll earlier! Though, I must ask…” Gale then extends a hand to her. “...are you hiding?”

Tav pouts as she takes his hand, letting Gale pull her up. “It's a long story,” she deflects, patting herself down. There's a small tear in the dress just below her left breast, and she scowls. “I'm surprised to see you here. I wouldn't think of Astarion inviting you.”

“Well, fortunately for you, the guest list wasn't his to command.” The magician places his hands on his hips, staring intently at Tav. “But really, why are you out here? You all but ran from Wyll.” Gale then searches her up and down, bending forward and sideways. “Are you hurt? Did he say something unkind?”

Tav sighs and shakes her head. “No, no. It's nothing Wyll said.”

A blatant lie – it's everything Wyll said.

“I just needed some fresh air, that's all.” She tries her best to put on a smile, but she knows Gale doesn't buy it.

“Tav,” he states, sternly. “What's wrong? You look beautiful, yes, but I can also see that you're shaken.” He dips his head to stare up at her from under his brow. “I'm your friend, Tav. You can talk to me.”

She looks at him. Emotion swirls within her chest, and she begins to heave with heavy breath. Tears well up within her eyes, and it's not long before Tav rushes forward, throwing her arms tightly around Gale’s neck. She sobs, heavily, messily, into his shoulder.

It's cathartic – like a dam finally giving way after keeping a rushing river at bay for far longer than ever intended. She feels arms encircle her and realizes they're Gale's, prompting another rush of tears to flow down her cheeks. For the first time in months, she feels safe. She hadn’t realized she'd forgotten what this feels like, until now.

By the time Tav lifts her face, the shoulder of Gale's jacket is horribly stained. She must look like a child's painting right now, make-up askew. But Gale simply gives her a reassuring look, reaching into the pocket of his jacket to retrieve a handkerchief. “Here,” he says while holding it out for her. 

And for a moment, Tav wishes she could have fallen in love with him instead.

Tav accepts his offer, muttering her thanks as she lifts the kerchief to her eyes. “I'm sorry for not having answered your most recent letters.” She then blots the skin over her cheeks, scowling as her foundation stains the cloth. “There’s so much I have to tell you, Gale. So much has happened in such a short period of time, and I've no time to process it.”

“I'm here now,” Gale states triumphantly, placing his hands on his hips. “No better time to start than the present.”

She gives a soft laugh, sniffling before she says, “I suppose you're right.” She swipes the handkerchief under her nose. “Well, for one… I'm pregnant.”

Gale doesn't answer. Instead, he cocks his head slowly to the side, eyes growing wide with surprise. “...Whoa,” he musters. “Well… That's… certainly one way to start.” He then rights his posture, shifting his weight to one side. “I… wasn't aware you were with anyone.”

“That’s because I'm not.” Tav stares at the ground, sticking out a foot to run her shoe mindlessly over the small stones that make up the garden’s pathway. “At least not officially.”

The wizard crosses his arms over his chest. “I see. Is it someone that you know?”

“Oh, yes, indeed,” Tav answers quickly. “We both know him quite well.” She then pulls her bottom lip between her teeth, adding, “Or, we did.”

“I think I'm beginning to understand,” says Gale with a snicker. “I can see how tensions may run high in your line of work.” Tav quirks a brow but remains silent, curious as to where Gale is taking the conversation. “And how your superior may seem like the best person to relieve them with.”

And then her mouth hangs open for a moment, dumbfounded, though she quickly gathers her thoughts to argue. “Gale, I don't think you–”

“You know,” he continues, sticking up a hand to wave a finger, “when I was at the academy, I had a professor who–”

“Gale!” Tav shouts. Heat floods to her cheeks in embarrassment. “Gods, no! It's not Wyll!” Placing her face in her hands, Tav begins to pace back and forth. A groan escapes her as she drags both hands across her face, further smearing her make-up. “Why does everyone assume I'm still infatuated with Wyll?”

Gale shrugs his shoulders. “I don't think he's that hard on the eyes.”

“He isn't!” Tav shouts again. “But, sweet Hells, he's my boss!”

“Alright, alright,” Gale holds up his hands in defeat, then crosses them over his chest. “So, if not him, then who?”

Tav sucks in a breath through her nose, exhaling slowly through her mouth. Her heart pounds against her chest as Astarion's name dances across her mind. She wants to say his name, but her mouth won't cooperate. Instead, she slowly lifts her hair, turning her head to expose the healing bite mark on her neck to Gale's curious eyes.

“That… looks like a recent bite wound,” comments the wizard, pupils dilating.

“And you would be correct,” Tav confirms, flatly.

His squints, leaning closer to Tav, then stands upright. “Judging by the spacing of the marks…” Gale says, hesitantly, “...I would say that's the bite of a vampire.”

Tav nods, lips drawing into a thin line. “Right again.”

“Huh,” huffs Gale. “But, there's only one vampire we both know.”

Her heart is pounding again, so loud it's drowning out any sound in her ears. “Indeed,” Tav agrees, willing herself to continue despite her discomfort. “And we happen to be standing in his garden.”

She watches Gale's face as it contorts, the phases of acknowledgement written clearly for Tav to see. The magician's face ranges from confusion, to shock, to acceptance, back to shock again. “Oh, Nine Hells,” Gale mutters. “...How? When?!”

Tav throws up her arms, laughing to herself. “Not sure, Gale! Because if I did, I certainly wouldn't be in this mess!” 

Shame settles in. Tav’s face burns again, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. Hearing these words said with her own voice somehow makes this real. Makes the empty hole within her chest ache, once occupied by Astarion. The desperate desire to be held by him, to disappear into the night and fall in love all over again.

“Gods, Tavaria… I don't even know what to say.” Gale lowers his arms to his sides, holding one hand to his hip. “How did he react when you told him?”

The air is knocked from her lungs, and Tav sucks in a desperate breath. “...I haven't,” she says, quietly.

“What?!” exclaims Gale. “Tav, you have to tell him!”

She glares at him, balling her hands into fists, shame quickly warping into anger. “Gale, if I tell him, you can kiss ever seeing me again goodbye.” She's shaking now, emotions boiling over.. “I will be his, forever, whether I want to be or not! I will no longer have a choice!”

“Oh, poppycock,” says Gale with a wave of his hand. “If there's one thing we both know about Astarion, it's that he'd never let any harm come to you. Especially by his doing.” Gale moves closer to Tav, voice dropping in decibel. His gaze remains glued to her. “Is this what you were discussing with Wyll? You know how he feels about Astarion, Tav,” says the wizard.

Tav swallows thickly. Her jaw is clenched tightly, teeth grinding against one another. “Gale, he's not the man either of us think he is,” she states, boldly. “Not anymore.”

Gale leans back with a laugh. “I somehow doubt that,” he argues, raising a hand, then both. “Sure, he's grown to be a bit of a recluse over these last few months.” With a shrug of his shoulders, Gale adds, “And the Gods only know how familiar I am with such a state. But it doesn't seem his heart has changed, when you're concerned.”

“What are you talking about?” Tav retorts in frustration. Does he mean to mock her? It's unlikely, but still infuriating how wrong he is at this moment. “Gale, he had fucking bodies in the crypts, what are you–”

“Did you ever think that perhaps Astarion sought you out again because he knew he was losing control?”

Tav’s eyes grow wide, shocked by the wizard’s declaration. “...What?” The whispered sound that escapes her throat is foreign to her. “I don't…” She shakes her head slowly in disbelief. “What do you mean?”

“You're the only one he's ever felt safe with, Tavaria,” explains Gale.  “Astarion never spoke to us the way he spoke to you. You two had a language all your own.” 

…He’s right. Tav’s gaze wanders off toward the French doors of the ballroom. Astarion confided in her like no other. Spoke to her in a tone that was reserved strictly for her. His hardened edges gave way to a soft, pale underbelly after a time. And never to another.

The panic in his eyes as Cazador rendered him utterly helpless, entrapped within an enchantment. Desperate pleas to free him ripping through his throat. Astarion shook violently within her arms as she broke the spell, his body collapsing against hers. His nails nearly pierced the thick leather of her armor from how tightly he gripped her, and when it came time for them to separate, Astarion refused to let go.

‘Please,’ he cries softly, pupils blown wide. He's shaking something fierce, as if reliving the worst moment of his life on repeat. He clings to her forearm as she tries to stand. ‘Please, I can't, he's going to, to you, he's going to–’

‘Hush now, Astarion,’ Tav coos, trying to soothe him. She runs a hand gently through his hair and kisses his sweat-soaked brow. ‘We’re here. He can't harm you.’

Astarion turns to her. He lifts a trembling hand to her face, cupping her jaw. ‘...I don't care about what happens to me,’ he says, voice hoarse. ‘I don't want him to have you.’ His jaw cinches tight, spitting through gritted teeth, ‘He has no right.’

The magician sucks in a deep breath and brings a hand to his face, exhaling as he begins stroking his beard. “Look, if Astarion wanted to harm you, he would have done so already.” He then tosses his hand to the air, lips molding into a soft pout. “I think he's asking for help in the only way he knows how.”

Heat crawls across her skin, and suddenly the air is too hot. Tav draws in a deep breath, fanning herself with her hands. Her eyes sting from the threat of fresh tears and she once again begins to pace back and forth.

“I never wanted any of this,” she admits to Gale, looking up at him each time she passes. “Gods, sometimes I wish I chose my Father.” Tav chokes back a sob. “At least then I would never have to think or feel again.”

A moment passes before Gale says solemnly, “Pain, happiness, sorrow, bliss – emotions remind us that we're alive, Tavaria.” He shakes his head. “To deny them is to deny life itself.”

“I don't wish to argue that,” Tav replies. “I just mean–”

The words die in her throat as her eyes catch a glimpse of someone standing by the French doors. 

At the top of the marble stairs is Astarion, glass of wine in hand. As he descends the steps, Tav swears there's an additional button undone on the crimson dress shirt he wears. The fabric ripples across the pale plane of his chest, moonlight glinting off the golden amulet hanging around his neck. He reaches the bottom step and takes a swig of wine before sauntering over.

“The Wizard of Waterdeep!” Astarion bellows, almost mockingly. “Fancy seeing you here.” As he comes to stand next to Gale, Tav can smell the alcohol on his breath and notes that his eyes are slightly glazed over. He fidgets to find a comfortable pose, inevitably settling on leaning to one side with his free hand on his hip.

He's… drunk. Reminiscent of the night he helped himself to a cave bear within the Underdark.

“Astarion,” Gale replies with a nod of his head. “Good to see you, too. Love what you've done with the place. It feels so much more–” Gale rolls his wrists, as if to stimulate a response, “–alive, than it did before.”

The vampire gives a soft grunt before saying, “Well, yes. That was the entire point, no?” His eyes then land on Tav, and she feels the small hairs on her arms and neck stand on end. “I hope I'm not interrupting anything?” Astarion inquires with a grin. 

The ruby red of his irises burn into her despite their sheen. “Not at all,” Tav manages to reply, turning her head to Gale. “Gale and I were just catching up. I've admittedly been a poor friend,m neglecting to answer his letters.” She makes sure to give a laugh after her sentence; Astarion is studying her.

The magician’s gaze flits momentarily between Astarion and Tav before settling on Tav. “Oh, no, of course you're not,” Gale says with a chuckle, “it's no issue, really. Just happy to know you're doing well.” Tav gives him a small nod of her head, thanking him for having taken her lead. Gale returns the gesture.

“Splendid,” Astarion states flatly, albeit sarcastically. “Then I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I borrowed this lovely lady?” He brings his glass again to his mouth, throwing the rest of the wine back. As the cup drops from his face, Astarion meets her eyes again, brow drawn tightly together. “I’ve been looking for her.”

Again Tav and Gale share a look, and Tav nods approvingly. “N-no, of course not,” Gale stammers. “I think we're sufficiently caught up.”

“Indeed we are,” Tav comments, moving closer to Astarion. “It was a pleasure to see you, Gale. I'll do my best to be better about answering your correspondence.” She then slips her arm around the vampire's, only to feel Astarion flinch against her. “Shall we?” she then asks Astarion, giving his forearm a pat. He's tense alongside her, though he returns her gaze.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Gale,” Astarion says to Gale, turning toward the palace. His voice edges on bitter, but there's still enough pleasantry about it to be considered cordial. 

Tav waves to the wizard, then follows Astarion's lead back toward the ballroom. Her stomach is in a mess of nerves and her heart is practically in her throat. Drawing a deep breath in, she manages to blink away any hint of tears forming within her eyes. The signature scent of Astarion's cologne envelops her and she clings tighter to his arm as they ascend the stairs.

Before entering the ballroom, Astarion gives Gale one final glance as he ushers Tav beyond the French doors. He then follows swiftly behind her.

“Huh,” is all Gale can mutter to himself.

[ellievickstar]

Nobody’s Choice

A/N: I am so sorry I ended part 2 in a cliffhanger…it was cruel…and…rude. I hope that this beautiful fic will…make up for my…wrong doings <3

Summary: When then mating bond finally snaps into place, what are you meant to do when you realise your mate has another in his heart, will you break it off to save yourself, or will your mate be able to save this heartbreak?

Request: N/A but highly anticipated.

Pairing: Azriel x Witch!Reader

Warnings: breaking of mating bond, talking to ancestors, major angst, cliffhanger, self-doubt.

My Masterlists & Rules

Part 1 — His Second Choice? // Part 2 — Your Choice.

~*~*~*~*~

"Azriel...I-" But something made you pause. You knew there was no way Azriel could be with you forever. You had seen the lingering glances he had given Elain. You couldn't deny that they shared a connection that you both didn't have...not anymore. However, Azriel was also a male of honour. If you wished it, he would never see Elain again, but how could you do that to him. He will eventually resent you for it, maybe not of his own accord, but with time. You couldn't rip away his will, but you couldn't give him what he wanted in this moment right now. Eventually he would realise that though you were mates, his heart belonged else where.

You looked down at the male again. And as you weighed your options carefully, you knew what you had to say, what you needed him to believe.

"Okay," You plastered a smile on your face, and in a split second you let a piece of happiness in all this sorrow slip down the bridge of the bond and slam into his side. It was enough for him to beam up at you, to sweep you into his arms as he celebrated. If only he knew that inside, you couldn't enjoy this moment with him. He thanked you, his eyes bright, and without a word he instructed you to get ready quickly, because he wanted to give you the best night you had ever experienced. Nodding, you shooed him away.

As soon as he was out of your sight, gone to prepare what he planned, you fell to you knees. Maybe, you could lie to yourself, but the second you awoke you could feel that spark of desire from his side of the bond, maybe it was so small that even he didn't know it was there, but it only takes so much for a spark to become a flame and a flame to become wildfire.

You had to let go of him, you had to break it. Break this damn bond that shackled you to him, break it, and return home. Ever since the war you itched to return to your own people, but stayed in Velaris because you had hoped that Azriel would choose you. It was naive and a ridiculous notion.

You remembered what you had said to your ancestor. You remembered her eyes when you asked that question. How do you break the bond? She had looked at you, sad and sombre. You knew you weren't the first witch to be soulmates with a Fae, and you wouldn't be the last to break the bridge between two souls.

You closed you eyes and with a wave of your hand, who you summoned, appeared. You opened your eyes and came face to face with none other then the suriel. It bent down to meet your eyes, and as you stood tall, folding your hands in front of you skirts, its eyes widened in recognition. "Princess-" "Queen. My mother died. But you already knew that," The Suriel was silent but nodded it's head, waiting for orders.

"I need you to tell me how to break a mating bond," Hearing that, The Suriel paused. It didn't want to tell you, after all, The Suriels prioritised their friend's wellbeing first. You had become friends with The Suriel species when you were eight, they were your friends along side you, and they were very protective. However, this was a question that you needed the answer to.

"A ritual, you can find it in your mother's library, but be careful little one, many have suffered dire consequences," The ominous warning sent chills down your spine, and you nodded. You weaved anew cloak from thin air and handed it to The Suriel, before it bowed and left. You sensed there was worry in its eyes, however, you couldn't care enough. You needed to do this.

With a wave of a hand and a flash of light, you looked around as your surroundings melted away and became something else entirely.

Home.

~*~*~*~*~

The walls were the same. So was the lighting. But the bookshelves were dusty, the table worn and on the verge of breaking, what once full of life, was now abandoned. Before the first war you had lived here, but after your people had abandoned this place, the knowledge with it. And now you needed one piece of information in the whole library.

As you scanned the endless stacks of scrolls and books upon books, stuffed onto shelves that looked like they were going to collapse under the weight of the books, you realised that you should have asked The Suriel specifically which book you needed to get. It would take forever to go through your mother's private library.

Cracking your knuckles and gritting your teeth, you approached the first shelf. This would take a while. But, it would be worth it.

The first hour went by with no luck.

The second hour you felt Azriel reach down the bond, you gently told him that you had plans and couldn't join him.

The third hour you finally found it.

"Oh for wickedness sake, it was here the whole time!?" You hissed as you realised that the spell you were looking for...was in your mother's old diary. Of course. You should have looked there first. Part of you wanted to throw the damn book across the room with how much time it took to find it. However, you calmed yourself. Now all you needed to do is get your hands on some damn salt...and a knife.

You conducted a few practice rituals to ensure that your magic was ready for the advanced spells, the sky had already darkened by the time you were ready to journey home. The journey back home was, tiring, after a full day of searching and rituals, you weren't exactly primed for spell-casting, especially not transportation spells. Then again, if you didn’t return, the night court would suspect you. So you prepared yourself for the exhaustion that would hit you the second you arrived.

But nothing would have prepared you for what greeted you the second you arrived.

Rhysand and Cassian were there…waiting. Their eyes were fuelled with anger as they stepped towards you.

“Where have you been?” Rhys demanded. Cassian stayed silent as his gaze stayed on you, surveying you for possible injuries. You fidgeted as you tried to take a stp back but you were stopped by two people behind you. Mor and Nesta.

“I was just…running errands.” “Don’t lie to me,” Rhys snapped. Your eyes shuttered. You looked down and cursed as tears began to stream down your face uncontrollably. Everything you had been keeping inside came down in waves, one after another.

Gentle hands guided you to sit as your friends surrounded you. “You can finally take control of all this, why do you hurt yourself?” Rhys prompted. You shook your head. No. There was no control in this situation. “I don’t want control, I want to let go,” You choked out, crying into the front of Mor’s dress. Nesta pulled back your hair and brushed through it, the action soothing your slightly. Rhys swore as he realised how miserable you truly were. Cassian was furious.

“I’m gonna kill Azriel,” He mumbled, but you stopped him. “No! It’s not his fault…besides, not all mates are meant to be,” You didn’t know whether you were convincing them or yourself. You only knew that you couldn’t tell them your plan. You were so…tired…

“I’m just gonna go to bed…can we do this tomorrow?” You asked. They all exchanged looks, but eventually, you were helped to your room, and it wasn’t long before you finally fell asleep.

~*~*~*~*~

“You are a child…remember…you are the descendent of the greatest kind in all on Prythian…you are their queen,” You looked away from your ancestor as you kneeled before her. “My heart tells me to stay, my head tells me to break it,” The Queen smiled as she looked down at you. It was a kind smile. Like no other, it was pure, and genuine and something in you warmed at that familial love that you missed so much. “And what of your gut?” You went silent as you looked down.

“I’m not sure…” You fidgeted again. “You know the consequences of breaking the bond, yes?” You nodded. Most witches died because of the absolute pain they went through. The only witches who could survive were those of the strongest blood. Azriel would feel the unbearable pain too but his chances of dying were slim as he was mated to a witch not a fae.

“What about your mate?” You asked her. Her face fell as her eyes seemed to flicker to hurt, sorrow. “He was a faerie…like yours…but different. He had beautiful red hair that fell to his shoulders and he could manipulate flame. I loved him…it was us against the world,” Tears seemed to fill her eyes. “We fought to be together and eventually, we were. I thought we were happy, I had four beautiful children, one was a true witch while two were fae and witch, the last on was a fae. It was two girls and two boys. We were a family..” She closed her eyes, a stray tear falling down her face.

“On day I came home early from the market with the children…and there he was. With his mistress. The fae female that his father had wanted him to marry when we first got together,” Her tone was bitter and your heart broke for your ancestor. “I left him…never heard from him again. But I do know that he ended up marrying that whore and having their own children.” She seemed to straighten. “I don’t believe that all fae males are that way…but you must understand. Just because he is you mate. Does not mean his heart will stay with you. Because we are not like them, we are witches, and for millenia we have been hunted and hated,” You nodded your understanding.

You had to remember. A comet could become a meteor. A candle could become a blaze. A male can be a monster. But when, does a ripple become a tidal wave? when does the reason become the blame? does a male become a monster?

She waved to you, dismissal as your vision of you surroundings began to darken. You were ready.

~*~*~*~*~

Dragging yourself out of bed at 3 in the morning was far from easy. But you needed to sneak out before anyone else was awake. You listened carefully to the house around you, keeping an ear open for footsteps or careful calculated breathing instead of the shallow breaths of deep sleep.

You were in the clear.

Silently, you waved a hand in the air as you summoned the portal to your home realm. It was time for you to finally...finally execute this plan. Humming, you smiled as you realised you'd finally be free. Yet something weighed down something made you want of pause and think of what could be. But as you looked into your memories, those thoughts, his heart, tears filled your eyes and you looked at your palms.

You didn’t understand. Was she prettier then you? Was it because she liked flowers not books, liked gentleness more then confidence? Was it because she was brighter? Softer on the inside? Or was it because she was still naive to the darkness of the world?

Why?

Why would the cauldron give you a mate that loved another?

That you did not know. But you sure as hell would do something about it. You drag your ass out of this bed and perform that damned spell, you would break this cursed bond then you would go home. To the people you hid so long ago. And you would rule with compassion and love. You would find peace in this chaos, find light in this dark.

A wave of your hand, an inhale and exhale. You closed your eyes for a second as you felt your surroundings shift and change, you held the book that you had grabbed tight to your chest and as you pealed you eyes open you knew exactly where you were.

The library might have restricted people from winnowing in, but faeries didn’t know how to ward of witch spells. You sifted through the pages, carefully, afraid that the book would fall apart in your hands, terrified that if you even blinked your plan would disintegrate before your very eyes.

You had to finish this.

A bag materialised from the air as you pulled out bright red sand. It was unique to your kind, specially made for rituels. This was no ordinary coloured sand. To your knowledge, specially taught witched had bathed this sand in powerful spell potions, they could be manipulated to follow any shape, as long as it was right. The sand would be able to activate the ritual, to break the bond.

You smiled as you reminisced over the lessons that you had learnt such information from, when your mother was still alive to chase you around the palace if just to make you sit down and listen for five minutes. Now, you would give anything to sit with her, to listen to her careful warnings, the soft lilt of her voice, or the firmness she held as she tried to dissuade you from doing anything mischievous. But that was a long time ago, and…she was long gone.

Your heart cracked.

You blinked back more tears as you finished pouring the last line of the symbol. It was a large circle that had symbols tracing the inside, slowly spiralling to the middle. It was very old language that loosely translated to ‘breaking mates’.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped in and as you dropped a strand of Azriel’s hair in the centre, one that you had picked up from his brush, light flashed. It was bright and it was hot, you flinched closing your eyes.

And screamed.

~*~*~*~*~

It was unbearable, the pain. It was endless, it was torture, it was everything and nothing all at the same time. You screamed louder, screamed even as your throat was dry and hurt like hell. You screamed as the pain seemed to stab you over and over again. Screamed as you fell to your knees, barely being able to handle the torture that was punishment for breaking a fated bond.

Azriel’s POV

My eyes flew open as pain began to grew in my chest. It burnt, burnt like the fire that had lit my hands up all those years ago, it speared my soul and I watched in horror as a thread seemed to be materialising from my chest, it was going somewhere.

I barely managed to stand as I stumbled through the door, hand gripping onto that thread, some part of me knew, something was wrong with Y/N.

I made it to Cassian’s room, pounding on the door even as the pain seemed to rip me apart. He opened the door after a few minutes, his eyes heavy from sleep, and I saw Nesta behind him, annoyed. But as they saw me in my state of distress, saw the bond that had somehow shown itself clear as day, they immediately jumped, Cassian rushing to support me, Nesta running to where ever the thread was leading to.

“The library! Hurry!” She hollered back at us. Cassian let me lean against him, we seemed to have woken the whole house as I heard Nyx begin to cry from all the commotion. Rhys winnowed in front of us, if looks could kill we would both be dead, but his demeanour shifted, rushing to help Cassian with my other side. Cassian grunted out the location and Rhys nodded. However, nothing in all 500 years of training could have prepared us for what we would see.

When we entered the library, my knees were ready to give out, I watched, terrified, and my gaze was hazy as I looked to see Y/N, in the middle of a spell. It had to be. I recognised the sand from the times she had been talking about her abilities. But what was she doing. My head pounded and as I read the old language that Amren had taught me, my heart dropped.

I reached out, wanting to hold on to that bond, but as Y/N looked at me, after what seemed like an eternity, through that blinding light, blood dripped down her nose.

Drip.

Drip..

Drip…

And the pain stopped as I collapsed, screaming being the last thing I hear as darkness consumed me.

~*~*~*~*~

taglist: @azriels-mate123 @penguinsworldsblog @hannahx1111 @jacksonpleasestopkillingme @positivewitch @happyseadreams @fuckthatfeeling @meritxellao @xiangping-28 @clarkie-carmody-blog @aroseinvelaris @azrielhours @shadowsinger-654 @azzydaddy @nisa-wisa @cosmic-whispers @cat-or-kitten @thecraziestcrayon @thegirlintheshadows101 @marina468 @act1839 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @holywolfsstuff @gengen64

(If your user is in bold I could not tag you, sorry T^T if you want to be tagged please specify in the replies <3)

A/N: HAHAHAHHAAHAHAHAHAHAH HOW YA LIKE ME NOW!? I love you guys…but you really didn’t think I wouldn’t end part 3 in a cliff hanger? After part 2!? Think again :D Love you guys, thanks for all the support <33333

Part 3 out now

[bllk-after-dark]

a lesson in pleasure.

pairing. reo x nagi x fem!reader

content warnings. MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI, nsfw, threesome, reo teaches reader and nagi how to get each other off, soft!dom reo, switch!nagi, switch!reader, reader is fembodied and she/her pronouns are used, handjobs, fingering, cum eating, praise, cumming untouched

“Okay, so let me get this straight.” Reo says from where he sits across from you and Nagi on his floor. 

“You guys want to take your relationship a step further, but neither of you know what you’re doing. So you want me to teach you?” He repeats what your boyfriend had bluntly told him only moments prior, looking between the both of you for confirmation. 

Nagi hums his agreement and you shrug, fingers nervously twisting together in your lap. “Yeah pretty much.”

The silence that follows as Reo contemplates his answer drags on for seemingly forever, both you and Nagi sitting tense with anticipation at how his best friend will answer such a request. 

After all it would normally seem kind of strange to ask this of him, but Nagi had offhandedly mentioned a few days ago how he and Reo used to get off together and always had this shared fantasy of having a threesome with somebody. This became relevant only hours later when you and Nagi had ended up having a heated makeout session and wanted to keep going, but failed miserably due to inexperience. 

Neither of you knew what to do with your hands or whether or not you were supposed to be talking, and it killed the mood so fast that you agreed immediately when Nagi suggested this as a solution. Thinking back, maybe you should’ve been a bit more hesitant, but when it comes to Reo - Nagi’s best friend Reo that is unfairly attractive and endlessly charming no matter what he does, who in their right mind would say no?

So, here the two of you are now in front of him, waiting to see how he’ll react. Reo rests his hand on his chin and he glances around the room like he’s solving a difficult equation in his head before he nods stiffly and meets your eyes with his own piercing look. 

“Sure, why not?” Reo agrees easily, pushing himself to his feet. “After you.”

Nagi shares a quick look of surprise with you before standing up and leading you down Reo’s long hallway and to his bedroom. The whole way there, you’re acutely aware of Reo’s purple eyes burning holes into the back of your neck and it sends an excited shiver down your spine, your underwear already beginning to feel damp against your skin at the thought of what you’re about to be doing. 

When you finally reach and enter Reo’s bedroom, Nagi goes to stand by the edge of the bed while you hop up to sit on it. Reo eyes the two of you waiting for him before he shuts the door behind him and leans against it with his arms crossed. 

“Ready?” He asks slowly. When you both nod in unison, a dark look passes over his eyes. “Then strip.”

Nagi starts with his sweatshirt while you go for your socks, then your sweater, and then your shirt. By the time you’re only left in your bra and pants, Nagi is down to his briefs, already hard and twitching underneath them, and Reo quickly calls for him to leave them on. 

“Why?” Nagi asks impatiently. 

Reo only shakes his head in response. “You’ll see. Just help her take everything off.” 

Ever so compliant, Nagi takes a few steps forward and reaches behind you to unclasp your bra. He unsurprisingly gets it on the first try despite never having done it before, the annoying genius he is, and both he and Reo inhale audibly when it falls away from your chest. 

Nagi pauses to stare for so long, sizing you up with his burning gaze, that Reo has to snap his fingers from across the room to bring him back to the present. “Do you want to touch her or something?” Reo huffs in amusement. 

Nagi turns to face him and nods, eyes shining darkly under the bedroom light. 

“Then touch her.”

Nagi certainly doesn’t need to be told twice, and after receiving a consenting nod from you he raises his hands and cups both of your breasts against his palms, squeezing them firmly. His skin is rough against your nipples and it makes you shudder, back arching slightly to press closer to the warm contact. 

Nagi releases them slightly before spreading his hands and kneading into your flesh again, this time catching and squeezing your pebbled nipples in between his fingers until you’re rubbing your thighs together and sighing deeply. 

“Good,” Reo praises, voice sounding closer than before. When you glance over, he’s no longer leaning against the door but waiting a few feet behind where Nagi is standing between your legs in front of the bed. “Get rid of her pants now.”

Biting his bottom lip between his teeth, Nagi releases your boobs from his clutch and slides his hands down your stomach to unhook the button on your jeans and help you shimmy them down your legs. As soon as they hit the floor, he’s making his way back between your thighs. 

When he turns to see what Reo wants him to do next, his throat bobs with a gulp at the way his best friends’ pupils have almost completely swallowed the color of his eyes. He’s staring at the both of you hungrily, and your legs twitch helplessly at the fire that starts burning in your gut. 

“Nagi, stand still.” Reo orders, moving forward to sit next to you on the bed. “And try to keep your hands to yourself.”

“What are we doing?” You can’t help but ask, trying to keep the excitement out of your voice. Reo sends you a smirk that has your eyes flashing in anticipation. 

“I’m going to show you how to make Nagi fall apart.” He responds slyly. One of his hands slowly trails down to Nagi’s thigh, and then he’s brushing the back of his hand over Nagi’s cock through his briefs in a way that has your boyfriend swallowing thickly. “Watch carefully.”

He smoothly dips his hand into Nagi’s underwear and wraps a firm hand around his dick before sliding it out of its confines. Reo licks his lips at the way his fingers look wrapped around him, and Nagi inhales through his teeth sharply when he starts slowly pumping him. You watch with growing curiosity and arousal at the little beads of precum that are already forming at the top. 

“One thing about Nagi,” Reo begins, rubbing the tip of his finger through the clear liquid. “Is that he likes it best when you squeeze tighter towards the top and looser towards the bottom. Like this.”

True to his word, Nagi’s breath speeds up and his eyes flutter shut from the way Reo is moving his hand over his cock. Quiet, stuttered groans are slipping out of his throat and Reo watches him carefully while his hand skillfully moves up and down. 

Nagi’s hands are fisted in the sheets behind him as he tries to hold himself steady, hips twitching and chasing after the pleasure coming from Reo’s hand. 

“Want to give it a try?” He finally asks after a few more moments of watching his best friend melt under his fist. You nod immediately at the question and reach forward to take Reo’s place as soon as he lets go. 

Nagi whimpers helplessly when your hand wraps around his cock, your skin much softer and warmer than Reo’s in comparison. It’s heavy against your palm and much hotter than you expected, and the way you can feel him throbbing in your grip starts forming a hazy, lust filled cloud over your thoughts. 

You start stroking him exactly as Reo had instructed, tightening your hand every time you tug upwards, and the delicious squeeze on his cock successfully drags more heated noises out of him. 

“Feels good right?” Reo mutters lowly near Nagi’s exposed neck. Nagi can only nod in response, too focused on the attention you’re giving him elsewhere, and it has a thoughtful look breaking out over Reo’s face. 

“Start massaging your fingers over the tip, yeah, just like that.” Reo instructs you expertly. “If i’m not mistaken, if you just-“

It seems, however, that you found what he was having you look for, because the second your middle finger slides between the grooves behind the head of his cock Nagi’s knees are nearly buckling and a guttural moan is forcing its way out of his throat. 

Reo has to reach behind him to keep him from collapsing while you continue to abuse the spot and watch Nagi writhe and convulse in utter bliss at how good your hand feels around him. Having already been unbearably hard and twitching uncomfortably in his underwear watching a scene he thought would only ever be a fantasy play out in front of him, Reo finally snaps and hunches forward with a choked off groan as he spills into his pants untouched. 

Nagi follows shortly after, white ropes of cum shooting out over your fingers and onto the floor while he gasps and tries to keep his legs from giving out at the way you’re milking him for all he’s worth. 

When his dick stops twitching in your hand, you finally release him and let out a long, shuddering breath. Before you can even register the movement, Reo is grabbing for your cum covered hand and starts licking your skin clean without a second thought. The heat between your thighs has grown entirely unbearable, and Reo seems to be more than aware of this as he finishes cleaning you up and scoots over to make room for Nagi on the bed. 

“Lay down on your back in the middle.” Reo tells you gently. After letting Nagi catch his breath for a bit longer, he punches his shoulder lightly and smirks. 

“Ready to return the favor?”

Any post orgasm exhaustion that had started taking over quickly cleared from Nagi’s eyes at this. He nods curtly and is already crawling onto the sheets to kneel over you without Reo having to say anything. 

“Excellent,” Reo mumbles. “Spread her legs.”

Complying easily, Nagi pushes your legs up and apart to reveal the absolutely soaked crotch of your panties. The fabric is nearly translucent at this point, and both males in front of you groan lowly at the sight. 

“See all of that?” Reo hisses darkly, nudging Nagi with his shoulder. “That’s all because of you.”

Nagi’s eyelids grow heavy at the sight of you spread out beneath him, desperate and dripping just from jerking him off under his best friend's expert instruction and watchful eye. 

“Fuck.” Nagi murmurs thickly. 

Reo leans back and tilts his head with a knowing grin splitting his cheeks. “What are you gonna do about it?”

Nagi answers by reaching forward to tug the remaining article of clothing off of your body, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood at the string of slick that follows when he pulls it away from your skin. His cock is already twitching back to life as he hungrily takes in the sight between your legs. 

“Watch, and take notes.” Reo instructs while he draws closer. Your hips jolt as soon as he dips his hand down and brushes his fingertips through the wetness of your folds, the roughness from the pads of his fingers catching on your clit perfectly. 

Reo gnaws at his bottom lip impatiently as he starts rubbing small circles against the swollen nub, instantly pulling a cacophony of whimpers and gasps from your throat from finally being touched where you needed it most. 

Nagi’s eyes zero in on the movement sharply as Reo slides his hand down and inserts his index and middle fingers into your twitching pussy. Your back arches slightly off of the bed at the intrusion, your legs twitching and kicking out gently as your body craves for more. 

“You have to start off slowly, and then gradually pick up speed.” Nagi nods along as Reo informs him of the proper way to finger you open, eyeing the way his best friends’ hands have you twitching and gasping for more. 

After watching his best friend work you up for another minute or so, Nagi finally becomes impatient and shifts restlessly. “Let me do it.”

Reo glances at him questioningly out of the corner of his eye. “Are you sure you got it?”

“Yes.” He says roughly. 

That's all Reo needs to hear before he’s sliding his fingers out of you and moving away so that Nagi can take his place. You watch with bated breath as your boyfriend lowers his hand and experimentally prods and rubs circles against your clit, the same way Reo had shown him. 

Your stomach twists and coils with pleasure. “Nagi,” you whine. “please.”

“Go on,” Reo encourages him breathlessly. “put your fingers in.”

As soon as two of his fingers are breaching your twitching walls, you’re grinding your hips against his hand desperately. He's starting slowly, just as Reo had done, but you need more than that and moan wantonly as need clouds your thoughts. 

“Faster, please- ngh!” 

Right as you start to say this, somehow with pinpoint accuracy, Nagi accidentally finds your g spot and digs the tips of his fingers into it just hard enough to have you throwing your head back and screaming. 

“Right there.” Reo says hurriedly. “Keep pressing into that spot, don’t go any faster or slower, just pick a speed and stay consistent.”

Learning quickly, Nagi picks a speed just fast enough to have your thighs twitching helplessly and starts brushing his fingers over the rough spot inside of you with every pass.

After a few moments of this, Reo reaches around Nagi and starts playing with your clit again while he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. The combination has your hands twisting into the sheets and tears threatening to spill from your eyes, the feeling way too much and still not enough at the same time. 

His other, unoccupied hand grips Nagi’s throbbing cock and starts tugging it at the same pace as his fingers pistoning in and out of you. Nagi whines as his hips jerk into his best friends’ touch, already so close again from how unbelievably hot this entire thing is. 

The coil in your stomach grows tighter and tighter with each passing second, licking at your nerves until you’re gasping for air and nearly choking on your moans as they force their way out of your mouth. 

“Don't stop,” You plead shakily. “I’m gonna- fuck-“

Nagi and Reo hold their pace steady even as you convulse and gush around and against their fingers, squirming and trembling as your orgasm rips through you like a hurricane and fills your vision with white static. 

Nagi cums a second time from watching you lose yourself beneath him while Reo pumps his dick fervently and releases a long, drawn out groan as ropes of his cum shoot out and land on your stomach. 

“Fuck fuck fuck,” Reo pants, eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head while he releases into his underwear again, hips stuttering against the part of Nagi’s back that he had been desperately grinding against the whole time. 

As the three of you come down from your highs, the only sound that fills the room is multiple people's harsh breathing. Sweat clings to your body in a thin, sticky layer that helps cool down your overheating body as you catch your breath. 

“That was-“ You start, too blissed out to finish your sentence. 

“Uh huh,” Nagi agrees brainlessly, lifting an arm to wipe his sweat soaked bangs out of his eyes. 

“Glad you guys think so,” Reo chuckles roughly. “Don’t get too comfortable yet though, we’re not done.”

“What?” you and Nagi both exclaim at the same time, whipping your heads around to gape at him. The smile that rests on Reo’s lips is wicked, and you can already feel the heat in your stomach sparking to life again because of it. 

It's going to be a long, long night. 

aly. honestly i have no words i'm just so down bad for reonagi. thanks for coming to my ted talk.

[hard-core-super-star]

guess we lied [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: top!hailee steinfeld x bottom!reader

summary: you and your ex had sworn you would never let each other back into your beds. unfortunately, it seems you both lied.

warnings: smut [angry sex with feelings, grinding, slight praise kink, two seconds of a humiliation kink, begging, a tiny bit of edging, pet names, literally no plot]; slightly toxic ex-relationship [but in a hot way]; slightly arrogant hailee [also in a hot way]; implied daddy kink

wordcount: 2.1k

a/n: it wouldn't be a rubix fic if it wasn't posted more than a week after an event has happened. i have no explanations for this, i saw that picture of hailee and was overtaken by the need to write this. this is significantly less wholesome and cute than my previous fics. enjoy at your own risk and let me know if i should write more smut.

* * * * * * *

You had sworn last time would be the last time you ever let Hailee Steinfeld into your bed.

You truly meant it when you said it.

There's only so much back-and-forth a person can take before they snap and you had certainly snapped after last time.

However, you're only human.

So, when your ex texts you a picture of her looking ravishing in a light blue suit and you notice a certain prominent tent in her pants…well, you do the rational thing. You tell her you'll meet her at her hotel after her event is over.

Maybe it's wishful thinking. Maybe the universe is playing a cruel trick on you by dangling the one thing you want more than anything right in front of you only to snatch it away.

At this point, though, you don't care. It might be irrational but you need Hailee more than you've ever needed anyone else before. You need her like the air you breathe and you've been suffocating since the day you decided to walk away from her.

You had very valid reasons, of course, but at the moment, those reasons are the last thing on your mind. The only thing that's been on your mind since you got that text from her is your uncontrollable desire for her.

And, yes, maybe it's a little desperate of you to be pacing back and forth in Hailee’s hotel room while you run through every possible scenario but what else were you supposed to do? Say, “Thank you but no thank you,” and move on about your day? That's ridiculous and downright impossible.

She has you in the palm of her hand and she knows that. It should be infuriating. It should make you want to prove her wrong over and over again until she’s the one going out of her way to find you.

It should be anything but attractive.

Just as your thoughts start to drift toward your unspoken desires, you hear the sound of the door opening. Your breath immediately catches in your throat as Hailee walks into the room, your eyes trailing down her figure before you can stop yourself. You had a hundred things ready to say but now that she's in front of you, all your rational thinking goes out the window and you end up saying the only thing you can think of.

“You're an asshole.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, clearly amused by your greeting. “You don't seem to mind much or else you wouldn't have replied so fast to my text.”

“I opened it by accident.” You don't know why you're lying but it's too late to backtrack now. “I just replied so I wouldn't leave you on seen. I wasn't expecting you to send me the address to your hotel.

She doesn't say anything at first. The smirk doesn't leave her face, though, and she slowly crosses the space between you until she's standing right in front of you. You try to show no emotion but your breath catches in your throat as she leans in toward you.

“I don’t believe you,” she whispers into your ear, her breath causing a noticeable shiver to run down your spine.

Despite your obvious reaction, you’re not going to make things any easier on her. “That sounds like a you problem.”

“Are you going to be a brat the whole time?” She asks with a sigh. “Is that how you want to play this? ‘Cause you know I have no problem with putting you in your place.”

You open your mouth to talk back but her hands grip your waist and pull you closer. You suppress a groan as you rub against the hardness in her pants, trying to look as unbothered as possible. You’re not sure why you’re trying to act like you don’t want her when you both know the truth but you’re not ready for the mask to fall yet.

“What’s the problem?” She tilts her head to the side, looking down at you with a borderline mocking stare. “Cat got your tongue, baby?”

“That’s cheating.” Your attempt to sound annoyed fails miserably due to the obvious shakiness of your voice. A shakiness the brunette knows too well.

“Oh, come on, we both know you were ready to fall to your knees for me the second I walked in.”

“You’re so fucking arrogant.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just so much fun to rile you up.”

“Stop talking.” You grab onto the front of her blazer and pull her down so you can finally shut her up with your lips.

She wastes no time in kissing you back, her hands roaming all around your torso. Your back arches involuntarily into her hands and you can feel her smile against your lips. You don’t give her a chance to tease you for your growing desperation, your hands reaching up towards her hair to undo her ponytail. You tangle your hands in her hair, your nails slightly scratching against her scalp in the way that leaves her breathless.

She lets out a small groan that lets you know you’ve succeeded, the sound sending shivers down your spine. She’s not one to be bested, though, and she quickly regains her ground. She wastes no time in taking hold of the hem of your shirt, pulling away from your lips long enough to pull your shirt over your head.

Her eyes move down from your face to your bra-clad breast, a hungry grin spreading along her lips that leaves your legs shaking. “I missed you.”

“Are you talking to me or my boobs, Steinfeld?”

“Don’t make me choose, that’s just cruel, baby.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You pull her into another kiss before she has time to notice the change in your tone.

You’re not an idiot, and neither is Hailee, and it’s obvious no amount of misplaced anger will ever drown out the feelings you’ve always had for her. Feelings that have driven you out of your mind more times than you’d like to admit.

It doesn’t matter how many times you force yourself to focus on her flaws or write off your bond as nothing more than sexual tension, you can’t deny the way your heart beats differently when she’s around.

She pulls away from your lips but quickly attaches herself to your jaw, drawing a soft whine out from the depths of your chest. “You’re thinking too much.”

“Can you blame me?” You reply as you tilt your head a little to give her better access to your overheated skin.

“No. But I bet I can find a way to shut your mind off.”

She emphasizes her point by giving a gentle bite to your skin and successfully drawing out another desperate sound from you. “You’ve always been good at that.”

“Is that a compliment? I was starting to think you hated me.”

“Don’t sound so smug. I’m still waiting for the show to start.”

She chuckles. “Let’s move on to the main event then.”

In one quick movement, she unclasps your bra before leading you over to the bed. You’re about to lie down when her hands grip your hips to stop you. You don't get the chance to question her since you get a clear idea of what she wants from you the second she moves to sit on the edge of the bed.

You step closer to her and she helps you discard the rest of your clothes, her hands caressing every inch of skin she can find except the place where you need her the most. You attempt to remove her blazer since she's still wearing too many clothes for your taste but her hands grip your wrists in one quick movement.

“Oh no, honey, you haven’t earned that yet.”

Your cheeks flush despite the many times you've done this together. “Hailee...”

“Aw, are you getting shy on me now? You don't want to make a mess on my suit?” She grins up at you, her grip on your hips tightening without turning uncomfortable.

You can't deny how arousing the thought is but you're not quite ready to admit it out loud. Thankfully, Hailee doesn't need your words to know exactly what you want.

She pulls you in until you land on her lap, your cunt immediately coming into contact with the strap hidden under her pants. You gasp at the feeling and the smile she gives you in return almost leaves you more breathless than the friction. She doesn’t give you a chance to gather your breath, instead starting to move you back and forth against her.

Your hands grip her shoulders tightly as you let her direct your movements. Your whole body tingles with pleasure, every other thought leaving your mind until all that remains is desire.

“Someone’s not so angry anymore.” The teasing tone in her voice only serves to spur you on. “I bet you’ve been dripping for me since the moment I sent you that picture.”

You can’t stop the moan that falls out of your mouth any more than you can control the desperate bucking of your hips. You’d love nothing more than to tell her she’s wrong but you’re already too far gone to even attempt to lie.

Your silence, only broken by a few needy sounds of pleasure, seems to be just what she’s looking for and she rewards you by attaching her lips to your neck. She makes quick work of your skin, kissing and biting every inch her mouth comes across. You respond by tilting your head back just enough so she has better access to all the spots that make you weak.

“You're so pretty like this,” she mumbles, her voice thick with passion. “All needy, all whiney, all mine.”

“Fuck, Hailee.”

The tone of your voice tells her all she needs to know.

Her slightly controlled pace is thrown out the window in mere seconds as she helps you grind down harder, making sure your clit drags along the hardness in her pants in just the right way that has your breath catching in your throat. “That's right, baby. Say it again. Who’s the only one that makes you feel this good?”

You almost come undone just from her words.

“You, only you.” Your words come out in a breathless gasp while all your focus falls to the feelings rising up from between your legs and spreading across your body.

Her nails dig into your side, drawing another whine out of you. “Good girl. You gonna beg me to let you cum? Or should I leave you this desperate for a little longer?”

You reply as soon as you hear her question. “Please, Hailee. Please let me cum.”

“I told you your brat act wouldn't last long.” She leans back just enough to get a good look at you. She opens her mouth, almost as if she's about to give you permission, but no words come out. She's not about to make it easy for you.

You try to slow down in an attempt to keep your impending orgasm at bay but Hailee’s grip is too strong for you to fight it. She makes sure to keep you pressed up tight against her, not giving you a chance to escape from your own pleasure.

“Please,” you try again. “I need you.”

That seems to be your ticket to ecstasy, judging by the smile that crosses her face. “Okay. You can cum. Make a mess all over my lap, y/n.”

She doesn't need to tell you twice.

Your body tenses up before a loud groan falls from your lips, your release spilling out of your drenched pussy and coating her pants in your juices.

You can just about make out the sound of her voice as she no doubt whispers soft praises in your ear but you don't register a single word she says. You're too caught up in the wave of pure bliss to notice anything but the trembling of your body and the relief that threatens to drive you into madness.

She gently guides your face forward with a hand on the back of your head, letting you rest your head in the crook of her neck while you recover. “It's alright, baby. Take your time.”

You hum in response to let her know you're okay but all she does is pull you closer. A voice in the back of your brain seems to come alive from the action, shouting at you that this was a huge mistake and that you need to walk away now.

Unfortunately, your common sense has no chance of winning over Hailee’s warm embrace. You don't care if it's wrong or stupid or a complete act of self-sabotage. There's no way in hell you're walking away from her again.

No way you're going to lie to yourself again.

“You okay?” Her voice brings you back down to reality.

“Yeah…just give me a moment. I'm not done with you yet.”

You're rewarded with the sound of her laugh. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

[fawtyy]

modern!anakin skywalker x reader- serein

description: highschool au! in your senior year of highschool, you were paired with anakin skywalker, the “schools weirdo” for the end of year project. in this little time before the project is due, you get to know him and come to a deep realization.

warnings: some emotional abuse, drinking, cigarettes, obi-wan is very out of character.

part 1

•••

Hearing the horn beep outside, you looked over yourself in the mirror one more time before grabbing your bag. Winter break was over and it was time for your last semester of senior year. It was still cold out but your boyfriend insisted on the short skirt you were wearing.

Walking downstairs, you seen both of your parents as they were getting ready to leave for work. Your father worked at a construction sight as the building manager, and your mom worked as a nurse at the local hospital. They strived to make sure you and your younger brother lived a nice life, at whatever cost, but also made sure that you knew what it took for them to make it this far. You were taught to treat the CEO with the same respect you treat the janitor with.

Your mom walked to you, a big smile on her face as she landed a kiss on your cheek. “Have a great day back, only 5 months left.” Nodding, you bid them both a good day, grabbed an apple and walked to your boyfriend’s car parked on the street. “Put a jacket on!”

Obi-Wan Kenobi, or Ben because Obi-Wan was “too lame”, had been your boyfriend for a little over two years now. He was the quarterback for your high school, leading them to many championships. He was the most popular guy in the school. You only got close when you did track in freshman year, him noticing you for the first time. Over a year later, he asked you out and the rest has been history. “Hey baby.”

He gripped the side of your neck, pulling you close in and attacking your lips. You responded but quickly pulled back once he let go. “Don’t you look good today.” You smiled, looking out the window.

Another thing about Ben, he’s a total jerk. It didn’t become this bad until he was given the title of leading quarterback in his sophomore year. Though he’s always been spoiled. His dad was the CEO of a major computer company, which raked in more money than you can imagine. His mom stayed home and raised the kids though didn’t clean because they had maids. His younger siblings were the same way.

The ride to school was filled with him talking about all of the scholarships coming his way, how his coach made him angry, and the rap music blaring through his speakers. The most consistent thing you heard was his phone going off every few minutes with a new notification, from his “friends”.

Pulling into a parking spot, you both got out of the car, his friends already crowding around. They were mostly football players, their girlfriends latched to their arms. You smiled at them only to have them roll their eyes, continuing to rub on their mans and eye up Ben. It’s always been like this. Before you met Ben, you weren’t popular, you really don’t like to consider yourself that now. It was leggings and a hoodie or T-shirt everyday. Ben changed your entire wardrobe. Crop tops, short skirts and short, heels and all kinds of makeup. You didn’t wear everything he wanted you to, but just enough to keep him happy.

Ben walked over and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him inside. He was talking about his schedule when a shiver when down your spine. Turning your head, you seen Anakin Skywalker, someone who Ben calls an “emo bitch” standing at the school entrance. He was looking your way, casting his eyes down when you looked back. “Y/n, are you listening? What’s your first class?”

Snapping out of your daze, you looked at your paper. “Um, I’m sorry, science.” He cursed, looking at his own paper.

“Mine is history. Let me see your paper.” He snatched it from your hands as you looked back, watching Anakin walk past you with his friends. He met your eyes again, holding the stare this time before his friends pulled him away. “Damn, we barely have any classes together. I guess I can get some of the guys to keep an eye on you.”

That snapped you back. “Keep an eye on me?”

He smirked. “You know, making sure no one is eyeing you like you’re theirs. Keep ya safe.” Rolling your eyes, you took your paper back. The bell rang and he pulled you in for another kiss. “See ya later, babe.”

Sighing, you walked to the science class, putting a little pep in your step when the second bell rang. Walking in at the last minute, you looked around to find an empty table. Walking to one closer in the back, you set your stuff on the floor and sat down. The teacher hadn’t walked in yet but someone did.

Anakin Skywalker looked out of breath as he looked around. You heard some giggles and laughing, causing you to notice some of Ben’s friends in here. Watching Anakin roll his eyes, you both realized that your table was the only one that could fit another person. Walking back to it, he dropped his bag and sat in the chair beside you. You slightly side eyed him but looked forward as the teacher walked in.

“Good morning class, my name is Mr.Smith and I will be your anatomy teacher. I know some of you are seniors, so you need this class to graduate.” Some of the guys cheered when he said seniors, something that made him roll his eyes. “Anyways, I’m gonna get this syllabus passed around so make sure to look over it and bring it back signed.”

The papers were passed back to Anakin and he grabbed two, sliding one your way. You gave him a small smile but he looked away before seeing it. Looking at the syllabus, you noticed the same thing everyone else did. “Wait, we don’t get to change partners?”

The teacher laughed and shook his head. “Nope, the person sitting next to you will be your partner for the semester. All of your labs and study time will be done with them. Your end of the year project will also be done with them. Which, if you look at your table number and the back of the page, that’ll tell you what project you have.”

Turning the page, you see a list of diseases with a number next to them. Your table was number 9, so your disease was Alzheimer’s. “The project will be to make a presentation about your disease and which part of the body it attacks and how it usually ends. It’ll be due two weeks before school lets out. You can start whenever, but I don’t take late work.” Looking at his watch, he sat at his desk with a smile. “Take the rest of class to get acquainted!”

Everyone started talking amongst themselves as you turned to look at Anakin. He was writing small doodles on his syllabus paper, seeming completely tuned out. “Those are cute.” He stopped, slightly looking at you and sitting up straight. “I’m Y/n L/n.”

He looked at your outstretched hand, eventually shaking it and nodding. “Anakin.”

“Did you understand everything about the project?”

He nodded again, looking back down at it. Sighing, you turned back in your seat, looking at your own paper. You could hear laughter again, as well as ‘loser’ and other things being mumbled. Looking back at Anakin, you finally took in his features. His ears were littered with piercings, as well as one around his lip. His hair was dark, pitch black and it looked like he put dark eyeliner around his eyes. He glanced back behind him before scoffing. “I’m sorry about them.”

He fully turned his head to look at you, holding eye contact. “They’re your friends, aren’t they?”

Turning your nose up in disgust, you shook your head. “Far from it.” He slightly smiled at that before going back to his paper. The rest of the time was quiet before the bell finally rang. He quickly grabbed his stuff and was the first one out the door.

Grabbing your bags, you seen Ben in the hall, surrounded by other girls. He was laughing and cutting up with them until he seen you, breaking away. “Hey baby! How was it?” You told him about the class as you both walked to your next class together. He stopped once you were done talking. “Anakin Skywalker is your lab partner? You’re gonna have to get that changed babe.”

“Why? He doesn’t really talk and he just stays to himself.”

“He’s a freak, like literally. You don’t need to be around that and I won’t allow it.” Breaking away from his hold, you raised a brow at him.

“Well I think it’ll be fine, Obi. It’s just a project.” Sighing, he shrugged his shoulders.

The rest of the day went by in a blur, all the way up until you and Obi were walking to his car. Looking across the parking lot, you spotted Anakin unlocking his door. Telling Obi you’d be right back, who was laughing with his friends anyways, you jogged over to Anakin, yelling his name.

He looked back at you, raising a brow at your smile. “Hey, can I get your number?” Raising both of his brows, you laughed. “We’re gonna be working on the project all semester, it’ll probably be best to get each others contact information.” Handing him your phone, he reluctantly took it, typing his phone number in. Handing it back, you took it with a smile and sent a text to his phone. “Cool, just text me with any ideas, see you tomorrow!”

You walked back to Obi, Anakin staring after you while Obi-Wan glared at him. All Anakin did was smirk and get in his car, driving off. “What was that about?”

You smiled at Obi, getting into the car. “Just needed his number for the project.”

Rolling his eyes, Ben took off to your house.

That night, after showering and getting into bed, your phone went off. Opening it up, you smiled seeing Anakin’s name. It was a link to a website with all kinds of facts and research on Alzheimer’s. Taking out your notebook, you began to write some of the facts down, creating thought bubbles and everything for the project.

The next day went about the same. Ben picked you up, ditched you mainly for his friends. You didn’t care too much today, wanting to get to class and go over some things with Anakin. As you were walking away, Ben caught up to you. “Hey babe, you’re in a rush today.” He laughed but you could see the confusion.

“I just want to get to class, love you.” Pecking his cheek, you entered the science class and took your seat. Ben stood at the door, trying to comprehend what happened.

Anakin walked in moments later, and you still had about 5 minutes before the bell rang. You smiled when he sat down and turned to look at him, taking your notebook out. “So I wrote all of this down from the link you sent me and I just wanted your thoughts.”

You never texted Anakin back last night but now he understood why. A tiny smile came upon his face as he looked over the details you wrote down, your little thought bubbles everywhere. It was cute.

“This is a good start, I like this.” Smiling big, you nodded, loving that he was talking more today.

“Cool, I was also thinking maybe we do a tri fold poster, since we have to showcase it and all.” He nodded, his smile becoming a little bigger.

The next few weeks would go on about the same. Anakin would open up a little more, day by day. You both would text more, not just about the project. You learned a lot about him in the past few weeks. He had his own band and they would perform at bars on the weekends. He only lived with his mother, his dad went awol. He loves space and he has a couple of animals.

Looking over your outfit, you smiled in the mirror. It was Saturday, yours and Ben’s date night. You’ve had one every Saturday night since you began dating. It was a time to not talk about school or football, just eachother.

Hearing your phone go off, you unlocked it and smiled seeing Anakins name.

‘Hey, are you busy tonight?’

Right as you began typing that you were, another message came through from Ben. Opening that one up, you smile dropped seeing his message.

‘Hey babe, we’re gonna have to skip date night tonight, Tyler is throwing a huge party since his parents are gone. I’ll pick you up in 30.’

Sitting on the bed, you stared at the phone in disbelief. Ditching our date, for a party? You didn’t like his friends and they didn’t like you. You honestly hated to be around them, especially outside of school. They were loud and just annoying. Hearing another text come through, you lift your phone up.

‘If you’re not, I was gonna invite you to see my band play tonight. It’s free to get in and they have other drinks instead of alcohol. I’d love for you to come. Here’s the address’

Jumping up, you got out of your short blue skirt and white crop top. Pulling some leggings and a AC/DC shirt on, you threw a zip up jacket over it and slid your shoes on. You didn’t have on any makeup except mascara and you put your hair in a ponytail. You grabbed your bag, sending one last text before putting your phone away.

‘I’m actually not feeling well, I hope you have fun, love you’

Anakin knew it was a dumb idea to invite you. You probably had plans with your popular boyfriend, he rolled his eyes at the thought. What made him feel worse was double texting you. “Hey Ani, we’re about to be up.” Nodding he grabbed his guitar and walked onto the stage.

You walked into the bar, seeing some people sitting at tables, other shooting pool or darts. Seeing an empty table, you sat down, waiting for Anakin to walk out. A waitress walked to your table and you ordered a water. You watched the curtain open, Anakin front and center as the lead singer. His eyes darted around the room, widening when he seen you. You smiled and waved, a small smile coming over his face.

He introduced his band and they began to play some songs. Some were their own but some were covers that they did well. You were so mesmerized, watching him sing and play, that you completely forgot your water. You could tell he had a passion for music.

Finishing up the last song, he thanked everyone and went off the stage. You stood up as he came around, smiling at you. “You made it.”

Wrapping your arms around his neck, he paused for a second before hugging you back. He was just so happy you were here. Pulling back, you gave him a big smile. “You did so good! I loved it.”

You both sat down as another band went on to preform. Eating some food, you two went on to have a conversation about any and everything. You both were out of your element and it just felt right. Around 12, you both decided it was time to go home.

You walked outside, trying to call your dad to come get you. “Everything okay?”

Looking over at Anakin, you nodded. “My dad dropped me off, I think he went back home and fell asleep. I might have to walk…”

“Come on, I’ll give you a ride.”

“Oh, Anakin no, I really couldn’t ask you to do that-“

“And I’m not letting you walk home, let’s go.”

Shyly smiling, you walked to his car, him opening the passenger door for you. Shutting the door, he got in the driver side and started driving. You picked up the conversation while giving directions. “So, I’m surprised your boyfriend wasn’t over your shoulder the whole time you were here.”

Huffing out a laugh at his comment, you shrugged. “He doesn’t know I was here.” He looked at you with his brows raised. “Tonight was supposed to be our date night, we have one every Saturday. As I was going to text you back and let you know, he texted me and said he was picking me up for his friends party. I told him I didn’t feel well and came here.”

Slowly nodding, he came to a stop in front of your house, putting his car in park. “I’m sorry.” Giving him a look of confusion, he continued. “I’m sorry you’re with someone that doesn’t respect and cherish you.”

Taken aback, you opened your mouth only for nothing to come out. Taking a deep breath, you shook your head. “Obi cares, and he’s a great guy. You don’t know him-“

“No you don’t. There’s a lot of things you don’t see, at school or even on the streets. He’s not a good guy-“

“Obi is a good guy.” He leaned back in his seat as you cut him off. Sighing, you grabbed your bag, trying to get out. “Thanks for the ride.”

The door handle would open, causing Anakin to take initiative and reach over you to help. He made eye contact as a blush slightly took over when you realized how close you were. Hearing the door open, you quickly got out and ran inside.

Anakin watched and made your door closed before letting out an aggravated sigh. Hitting the wheel, he cursed and shook his head. “Good guy my ass.”

[ghostst4r]

GIRLFRIEND

reader x art donaldson x patrick zweig

I'm thinking of Patrick & Art being approached by the reader to try to escape some loser who is following them around. Do you pretend that you recognize one of them from somewhere? Or, does one of the boys jump in ready to become your boyfriend? Is it pretend? 🤷🏻‍♀️ - @imblushingrn

warnings: harresment? mentions of threesome

Patrick and Art both lay back on the pastel coloured arm chairs. They are currently sat at Tashis party, waiting to gain her attention as they share a pack of cigarettes - the crumbled box thrown on the concrete causing a few to spill out.

Though I was on the other side of the house, the hidden sister. I have always played tennis alongside Tashi, but because she became better quicker she had all of the parents and friends and relatives attention whereas I was forgotten about. Living in a house, not a home, with a name from strangers.

I wandered mindlessly through the kitchen, glancing around at all the people in the house, wondering who they were as they conversed. Once again the same shiver ran down my spine as a firm hand gripped onto my shoulder, the same distant cousin - who wasn’t really a cousin - who has been pestering me all night.

“May I pour you a drink?” His nasal voice strung out, it sounded like he needed a tissue. Though politely I shake my head.

I feel the hand gripping my shoulder wander down, caressing my waist and hips - though it wasn’t endearing. I struggle to move as he grips me so tight, thinking of any idea.

He moves closer to me and I feel his disgusting smelling breath on my neck, slowly biting at my skin. Not in the sexy, attractive way - more like a rat biting at scraps.

I manage to pull away and dash out of the kitchen arch way, and through the back doors of the house - somehow his harsh footsteps echo in my ears as he follows me outside. I look around desperately, spotting two boys who appear to be my age or a little older. I skip over and try to relax my breathing.

In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth.

I approach the two of them, using my hands to move the blondes feet out of the way so I can sit at the end of the arm chair. They both give me curious looks, as to why a stranger has disrupted their smoking session.

“A guy won’t leave me alone can you just get him off my back? Please.” I whisper, my eyes glancing up as I see the cousin stroll over casually.

He places both arms on his hips, tutting at me. “Well look where you ran off, come on darling I don’t have all day!” he snapped, the pet name didn’t even sound nice and definitely didn’t give me butterflies.

“Back off man she’s mine.”

“She’s my girlfriend pal, fuck off.”

Both the strangers let out at the same time, glancing at each other worriedly. I bit my lip and scrunch my eyes. Though the cousin doesn’t say a word for a good long passing seconds. “So- So you guys are like…” he stumbles, pointing between the three of us, and I still don’t know their names “A threesome?”

We all stay quiet for at least a minute, or thats what it felt like, all glancing at each other. Yet the dark haired boy spoke “Yeah, exactly what we are now fuck off.”

And that’s all the cousin needed to pry off of me, raising his arms in mock surrender and carrying on with his night. I exhale in relief, turning to the two boys who are both slightly flustered. “Thank you so much you don’t understand! Thank you…” They both smile and nod before releasing.

“Oh! I’m Art and he’s Patrick!” the blonde, Art, says with a smile, sticking his hand out.

I shake it with a laugh, looking at the both of them. “Sorry for getting you… both involved.” I blushed as they shook their heads and waved it off

The brunette smirked lightly, watching me. “What’s your name, I wanna find your facebook later?”

I blushed and relayed my name to him, watching their eyes widen at the last name ‘Duncan’, “Why do you want my facebook?”

“He’s asking for your number, and so am I.” Art replied, taking in a breath of his cigarette.

I laughed in disbelief, glancing at the both of them who continued to casually smoke, letting the light breeze take the smoke anywhere. Two boys… who both want my number?

[contentloadingandstuff]

Heyaaa, I have an ask to ask, how about the region leaders (Jean, Ningguang and Raiden) with an S/O who has an extremely dangerous skill (Like Blackbolt or even Shigaraki) but is someone extremely sweet and caring. But seeing himself cornered and forced to release his maximum strength, but he is brooding afterwards for having injured his enemies

A unique encounter - Jean, Ningguang & Ei x Bioweapon!Reader

A/N: Hello anon. Since you have an ask to ask, I have an answer to answer! This is probably the strangest fic I've written so far. Enjoy nonetheless!

CW: Male!Reader, Uroboros-like parasite, a little body horror? Idk.

You were abducted by the Fatui at an age too early to remember your parents, or anything about your past really. For years your home was a claustrophobic cell, and the only companions were the researchers. They constantly visited you, drugged you into sleep and carried you off to who knows where. Every time you would wake up with your arms sore and no shred of memory of what happened. 

You didn't feel the effects of whatever they put into you until a few years later, in your early teens. You started feeling movement inside your body, wrapping around your organs and constantly pulsing. The parasite moving inside you caused enormous pain, an anguish both mental and physical. It was agony for the first months, but it would soon become more bearable when the being matured 

It turned out that it tapped into your central nervous system, letting you control it. Over a few years you taught yourself how to control the black tentacles, and overall live in some kind of symbiosis with the thing. You practiced drawing the ropes of writhing flesh from your left arm, rendering it mostly useless in the process - the appendages were small and stretchy, yes, but they needed space to move nonetheless. 

When you felt ready, you used the infection to break out of captivity. The thing turned out to be a great tool of destruction. With a flick of your wrist you could crush skulls, snap spines like twigs and rip open heavy iron doors. Fighting with the parasite was painful to say the least - the tendrils ripped and stretched your entire arm, leaving you moaning in agony even days afterwards. 

Despite the years of abuse and captivity you felt no satisfaction in taking revenge. You experienced the kind of pain and fear you wouldn't wish for anyone, even them. You kept the killing fast and as painless for them as possible. You couldn't have witnesses who would order a search for you. Still, the realization of how many families you broke apart was heavy on your heart. And so, after reaching freedom, you grew a deep disdain towards violence. 

Before you left the icy wastes of Snezhnaya, you made sure to go through and steal all the documents contained in the lab. They provided crucial insight to your affliction. It turned out the disease wasn't infectious, and, if the parasite's lifespan came to an end, it could never be recreated. You've destroyed the remaining samples and burned down the laboratory, leaving South in search of a new life. 

Many people made requests to Jean daily. The acting grandmaster often found herself overwhelmed with commissions. Not many of her coworkers, even those who cared for her wellbeing like Lisa or Kaeya, helped her out with work. Let alone the citizens of Mondstadt, who treated Jean more like a machine than a human with a need for free time and relaxation. 

That was before a certain individual popped into her life. She heard about him before, and saw him plenty of times out on the streets, just going about his business. Whenever she passed by, he asked if he could be of assistance. It was annoying to her at first, or so she told herself. She was the acting grandmaster, for crying out loud. It should be her duty to do all the work, right? But when she actually relented and gave him some menial tasks to do, Jean found herself enjoying this immensely. It was great to have someone helping, someone caring, someone reliable and trustworthy. 

As much as he was caring, gentle and oh so lovable, there was something strange about him. A simple thing really. You always wore long-sleeved clothes and never used your left arm much. It wasn't that weird until she sneaked a glance of her crush without his top. The left arm was all wrapped in bandages and secured with belts, especially around the wrist. Just an injury, she thought. That is, until she started paying closer attention to you. The bindings were always on, and you never loosened the tightening leather as well. Being an honest person, she confronted you about it. 

You tried to excuse yourself or lie your way out every time she asked, but Jean was far from oblivious. She knew an obvious lie when she saw one. So you showed her. 

A mess of black tentacles, coupled with your pained moans, coming out of your wrist was not something she expected in the slightest. Keeping the thing drawn, you explained everything you knew about it, along with how you've come to be afflicted with it. 

You expected disgust from her. Loathing, resentment, or even exile. But what you found was… empathy. Since it wasn't dangerous to anyone you came into contact with, it was fine in Jean's books. And you couldn't live without it as well (she had Albedo run tests and confirm it later). It was just a part of you, as unconventional as it was. She accepted it just as she accepted the rest of you. 

She knew how much her S/O hated fighting. Whenever they were outside with her, she would always keep an eye on possible threats. It was her who did the fighting, despite your superior power. Yet she couldn't predict what happened one day. An ambush from a large group of Hilichurls and Abyss Mages proved too hard for her to handle alone. So, very regrettably, she had to ask you for help. Pushed up against the wall, facing the risk of getting Jean injured, you moved to attack. You fought together, and managed to beat back the assault. 

When you saw the corpses, the blood and just the overall massacre you caused, you couldn't beat back the guilt. Hilichurls, though less intelligent than humans, we're still living beings. They felt pain just as any creature. You kept brooding over the events for just a minute - until you saw how Jean was handling it. 

And she was far worse off than you. A slurry of apologies and self-loathing flew your way. 

"I'm so, so sorry Y/N… I-I was too weak to handle this… I… failed you… Please forgive me…" 

Despite your best efforts, it soon escalated into a breakdown as all the stress she amassed over the month washed over her. You assured her it's okay, that it's not her fault, that you can take it. She slowly calmed down. She doubled her protection effort in the following days, so much so it turned into near babying you. She stopped after a good, solid dose of reassurance that you will be fine. 

Archons, this woman needs a break. 

You were certainly an interesting case for Lady Ningguang. You came to Liyue Harbor one day, and it looked like just about everybody liked you. Especially the kids. It was was when she went to visit her little informants that she met you. Despite your serious appearance, you played with them without a care in the world. After she delivered the usual sweets, she struck up a conversation. Ningguang soon found that you were simply a fun person to talk to and generally be around. After a few dozen encounters she grew fond of you. Very fond, in fact. 

When you started living together, she noticed something peculiar about you. You were eating a lot. She found you eating heavy, protein rich foods like meats, be they fresh or dried, almost all the time. Despite this unusual and clearly dangerous diet you never seemed to gain weight. Actually, you remained more or less underweight. Caring about your safety, she suggested that you see a doctor. You remained unwilling, regardless of how much she bothered you. She could only sigh. It was ultimately your call. 

It wasn't weird for her that you didn't like fighting in general - neither with weapons nor with words. She didn't mind standing up for you and doing the talking whenever the situation demanded it. It gave her the familiar, delightful sense of power. Your pacifism didn't bother her, at all in fact. It was refreshing to be around someone not willing to climb up bodies to reach their goal. It raised some concerns for your safety, as your unassuming posture added doubts about your potential combat prowess. 

Her suspicions were completely blown away one day. Being such a high profile individual as Ningguang brought about plenty of interest, usually not in a positive sense. It wasn't a surprise to her that there were people, especially Fatui, who wanted her dead. It was only a matter of time and they would send agents to strike at either you, or herself. That day just had to come while she was on a date with you. The three agents got the jump on you, and managed to wound Ningguang in the shoulder. You were her only defense, and as much as she believed in you, a part of her knew it would be the end. But then… something ripped open her lovely S/O's wrist and a swarm of pitch black tentacles came out. 

Both her and the Fatui screamed in terror at this sight. Using their momentary shock, you defeated them with a few swipes of your weapon. Ningguang didn't know that a human's spine could be snapped so effortlessly. Before long, you were next to her, asking if she's okay. Your girlfriend felt… a lot of things at that moment. Confusion, fear, disgust, worry… She just remained speechless for a solid minute. Being ever the reasonable woman, however, she got herself together and led you to Bubu Pharmacy to get your injuries patched. 

There was no time to think over what exactly you had done just minutes prior, as you were bombarded with questions. What exactly was that thing? Is it a parasite? Is it infectious? Is it dangerous? Does it hurt? And where, by the holy Celestia's name, do you keep that thing? You took your time to explain exactly what she's dealing with, along with presenting the stolen data and your life story. This calmed her a little, but she still needed time to get comfortable with the fact. She tolerated that of course, well, as long as it didn't touch her. Some absolutely horrifying silly tentacle thingy is not going to bring down the wonderful person her S/O is in her eyes. But don't think you'll get a pass on the teasing just because you're her lover. Oh, not at all, in fact. You'll get to hear a lot, and I mean a lot of one specific question. 

"Don't you have any more… unusual… surprises for me in store, my love?" 

If there was a better place than Inazuma for escaping from one's past, you would certainly have gone there. You expected everything from that strange land, yet it still managed to surprise you. Surprise you by having Inazuma's Archon pay special attention to you. 

Ei spotted you one sunny day while strolling on the main street of the capital. You weren't doing anything specific, just buying groceries. You weren't unusual by any means - just a typical guy, more attractive than the average male for sure though, doing daily things. Yet Ei's gut feeling and a few thousand years' worth of experience told her something was deeply off about you. The vessel was designed to differentiate the seven elements, as well as things living and dead. She noticed your aura was glowing much brighter, just as if there was something else, something very much alive inside you. This piqued her interest, and she decided to investigate. 

Of course, Ei decided to do her detective work her way. Which involved sending out Kujou Sara in the flesh to snatch you right from the streets and lead you before the throne. You were, of course, beyond mortified. Barely two months in the country and you already attracted the Archon's attention? This surely spelt death for you, you thought. When she commanded you to show her the very-generally-put "additional life inside you", you had no choice but to reveal the parasite. 

Sara nearly puked at this horrible sight, and the guards were all ready to cut you into little cubes. Ei, much to everyone's surprise, thought something entirely different. 

"Oh! Hmm, borrowing Miko's words I would say it looks quite… interesting."

The reaction to her words could be described with a single, simple what. Ei got up from her throne, and started circling around you. The way those tendrils wiggled and swayed was quite mesmerizing, and she couldn't keep her eyes away from you. Being stared at by someone of her magnitude, you endured the pain in fear of angering her, and remained still like a statue. Still, until the pain of your muscles tearing and stretching overpowered your will, of course. You fell unconscious in a pool of your own blood and antiseptic slime, right before her eyes. 

You woke up patched up inside a luxurious bed. Ei had you taken care of by a doctor. Despite your inner pleas, you were too weakened to leave the bed for long, so your visit at the Tenshakuku stretched on. All the while Ei has been visiting you many times a day, constantly asking you various questions about the affliction. With no other option than to surrender to her will, you answered all her queries. She found it simply amazing how, with such a frail mortal body, you managed to live with this inside you at all times. Many times you had to show her the tentacle. After Ei heard from you that living like this was nowhere near pleasant, her first instinct was to take the thing out. When she summoned her polearm you had to hastily explain that you actually couldn't live without the parasite. It's body made up for plenty of your missing, very vital bits. She deflated, and decided to stop asking you to draw it. You shouldn't feel pain just to satisfy her childish curiosity, she thought. 

Yet after a day of not talking to you, she found herself bored. Bored and frustrated with most things, and wondering about what you were up to. Regardless of her will, Ei returned to you over, and over again. She started spending lots of time with you. She dragged you out for walks, had tea parties with you, and even used the royal hot springs with you (it was weird at first, as Ei had no clue about her behavior being quite unfitting of an empress, but you got used to her quirkiness eventually). You had to turn down plenty of sparring offers and her requests to show how the tentacle is used in fighting. She stopped shortly after finding out you weren't very keen on violence in any of the many forms it could take. She respected that greatly. To make up for all the trouble she caused you (Ei understood that only a few months after you started dating, and more or less a year after you've met for the first time), the Shogun swore to protect you wherever you went. It was logical for her - being the strongest one brings about an obligation to protect others. 

But even she couldn't be everywhere at once. The Traveler was passing by, and Ei soon fell into a rabbit hole of their problems. She wanted to help them as a means of saying 'thank you', but leaving you alone like that made her quite uneasy. She impatiently waited for an opportunity to excuse herself, but it never came. Only when you called for her, through an enchanted ring she gave you, did she leave. The distance was too long to reach you in time, and Ei arrived at a bloodbath. Over a dozen ronin, probably seeking an 'easy gain', tried to kidnap you. They expected a frail nobleman, not a biological weapon. 

Ei found you on the ground, writhing in pain and discomfort. She scooped you up, and carried you bridal style back to the palace's medical ward. As the physicians worked on patching your injuries, Ei held your head in her hands and spoke softly. 

"I'm so, so sorry you had to do this, darling. I should have been there, just as I promised. I hope you can forgive my incompetence." 

Despite your words and reassurance that it wasn't her fault, Ei would decide to not let that happen again. Ever. She promised you that you would never have to kill anyone again, no matter if she had to be by your side at all times to fulfill her promise. Keeping you away from harm was the least she could do for you, and she would do it as long as you were around. 

Thanks for reading!

[wehaveimagineshere]

Request for Admin Ren! Could I request "one bed" scenario for Wyll with his gender neutral crush?

Totally! I had to go look up some romanced Wyll scenes! He's so sweet!

~*~*~

The moment you sit down in the chair, you think that's it, that's the end of your day. The bliss of taking your weight off your feet makes you sigh, your arms resting on the inn table to pillow your head. Eyes fluttering shut, you sigh deeply, fighting back the yawn.

"No sleeping yet, I'm afraid."

Hearing the familiar drag of chair legs across wooden flooring, you squint an eye open to watch Wyll settle next to you, a small smile across his lips.

You groan in response.

"I know, I know," he replies, propping an elbow on the table and resting his cheek in his hand. "The prospect of sleeping in a proper bed has me impatient too."

"I can't even remember," you start, voice muffled in your arms, "the last time I slept on a mattress."

One colored eye and one stone studies your face, noting the black smears under your eyes and the glaze to your stare. The smile spreads ever so slightly. "I admit, I can't remember the last time I dreamt upon a soft feather pillow myself."

A groan escapes you again, burrowing your face in your arms. Wyll's soft, warm chuckle reaches your ears.

Before he can say any more, however, there's a slam onto the table and Karlach exclaiming, "Here's your key! This tiefling is ready to sleep like the dead!" Heading for the stairs leading up to the inn rooms, she throws a hand up in farewell. "Night everyone!"

There's a chorus of quiet good nights as everyone moves to follow her.

Shadowheart gives a small laugh as she passes by. "Good luck, Wyll. I think they're but a corpse now."

"I can carry them up," comes the casual response, a warm hand coming to rest between your shoulder blades. "Which room are they in?"

There's a pause as her smile slowly grows. "The same as yours, of course," she finally says with way too much amusement, her footsteps sounding up the stairs before fading.

A small chuckle before a quiet murmur, "Of course." Fingers tap your spine. "You'll be bent like the hag if you sleep hunched over like this." More quietly and gently, he adds, "Let's get you to bed."

Sighing again, you raise your heavy head and yawn, stretching your arms out across the table. "Alright, alright." Standing up and rubbing a hand across your face, you grab up the key and check the number tied in twine around the handle.

Wyll follows as you make it to the second floor and find your room. Shrugging off his pack, he watches as you beeline for the bed and allow gravity to take over.

The bed.

Fiddling with the bag's straps, his darting eyes find the fainting couch pressed against the far wall. "I can sleep on the couch tonight."

You turn your head in his direction, brows furrowing as you watch him cross to the couch. "What? Why?"

"There's only one bed, and I dare not disturb your comfort."

Taking a moment for your tired brain to process his words, you sit up. "Wyll. This bed is big enough for the both of us."

Setting his pack down on the couch, he draws back the strings. "Yes, well--"

"Wyll." Standing up, you place your hands on your hips and wait for him to turn your way. "It's fine. We'll just sleep together."

Eyebrows raising, his eyes dart around before finding your feet. "Oh, I. Well." An awkward laugh. "I'm honored, but--"

Understanding comes crashing down, drawing out a laugh as your cheeks warm. "Wyll! No! I meant-- I meant together! No, not--" You throw your hands up. "Innocently! We can sleep next to each other innocently!" Hiding your face in your palms, you laugh turns a tad hysterical. "Gods, I'm not propositioning--"

You pause as you realize Wyll is laughing with you, the sound tickling your heart and sending butterflies into your stomach. Snapping your gaze his way, you marvel at how open and light his face is, a hand pressing against his chest as he struggles to reign himself in.

For this moment, you don't care if he catches you openly staring.

Exhaling deeply as the last of his laughs die down, he catches your wondered gaze with a smile. "Look at us. What a pair we make." Straightening his spine, he gives a small bow. "I would be honored to innocently share a bed with you tonight, if you'll have me."

"So proper," you reply, giving a playful eyeroll. "With the Blade of Frontiers innocently sharing my bed, I fear for the nightmares."

Failing to bite back the huff of a laugh, he raises his arm, fist to his chest. "The Blade of Frontiers is at your service."

[dirty-bear-rick-sanchez]

He’s Like Me

This is an autistic Morty oneshot I’ve been sitting on for a while because I didn’t know where to go with it. I’m still not too happy with the ending but I think this is the best I’m gonna get it lol.

Summary: Morty is keeping a secret from Rick and Rick wants to know what it is. Hurt/comfort. ~3k words

Warnings for mentions of ableism (including internalised ableism).

Rick suddenly snaps back into reality after being absorbed in his latest project to find that his bladder is full and his stomach is rumbling. A glance at the clock tells him it’s been at least four hours of uninterrupted work. It’s not unusual for Rick to get so into something that he can spend hours at a time on it without a break, and four hours is fairly mild for him. Still, now that he’s aware of his body’s needs, he can no longer ignore them.

Standing up from his desk, he stretches his back and arms, hearing the former crack in a way that’s half-satisfying, half-concerning. The joys of ageing, he thinks wryly. He lets out a groan and makes his way to the bathroom.

Once his most pressing need has been satisfied, he directs his attention towards food and drink. He makes his way down the stairs, the usual family hubbub sounding from the kitchen. As he approaches, he can begin to make out details that indicate that it, in fact, isn’t the usual family hubbub. The raised voices, while not uncommon in the Smith household, are laced with strong emotions that betray a deeper conflict at hand. Rick pauses outside the kitchen, trying to decide whether it’s worth getting involved or if it would be easier to simply travel off-planet for some dinner instead.

“Mom, p-please don’t tell Rick!” he hears Morty cry out, a note of fear in his voice. Rick frowns, wondering what secret Morty wants to keep from him and why.

“Now, sweetie, come on, I think it would be good for him to know. It’s not anything definite yet, anyway, and if he knows, maybe he can help you.” Beth speaks as if trying not to frighten a wild animal, a tone Rick remembers using himself when she was little.

“No! Y-you don’t get it, Mom! It’s alright for you, you’re not the one being told there’s something wrong with you! You’re smart, like him! Rick already thinks I’m dumb, what is he going to think if he hears about this?” 

OK, now Rick’s really starting to get worried. He takes a moment to set his face into a mask of disinterest before entering the kitchen.

“What am I going to think if I hear about what?” he asks, trying to keep his tone casual and unbothered.

“N-nothing!” Morty blurts out, too quickly to appear innocent even if Rick hadn’t overheard the conversation.

Beth takes a deep breath. “Dad, Morty’s got a new teacher, and she thinks-”

“No! I told you not to tell him! Why do you never listen to me?” Morty shouts, tears running down his cheeks, and storms out of the room. The family hears his footsteps stomping up the stairs and the door to his room slam.

“Geez, wh-what’s with him?” Rick asks, quirking a thumb in the direction of the door, disguising his concern with an air of annoyed detachment. Beth opens her mouth to respond, but Jerry jumps in.

“Morty’s just a little upset about something his new teacher said in our meeting with her. I’m sure he’ll come down when he’s feeling better.” 

Something in his tone is unusually protective and harsh, directed at both Beth and Rick, his eyes flicking between them both. While Rick usually isn’t fond of Jerry’s behaviour, he feels a grudging respect for the man’s ability to actually grow a spine and stick up for Morty for once.

“Jerry, don’t you think we should tell him?” Beth stage whispers to Jerry.

“Beth, don’t you think we should respect Morty’s privacy?”

Rick tunes out the conversation, not interested in their usual bickering, and instead makes for the fridge. He roots around inside, grabbing a drink, then reaches for the cupboard door. Beth breaks the argument to turn to him. 

“Oh, Dad, dinner’s almost ready. Don’t spoil your appetite.” her tone changes seamlessly from angry to bright as she shifts her attention from Jerry to Rick. Rick drops his hand from the pack of wafers he was reaching for and sits down at the table, sprawling out in his chair as he waits.

“Morty, Summer, dinner!” Beth shouts to the kids and begins plating food. One bedroom door swings open and Summer comes down to join them, scrolling idly on her phone. 

Beth turns around to see only one of her children present and sighs. “Summer, get Morty.”

“Morty!” Summer shouts, not looking up from her phone. Rick has to give it to her, the volume is deafening. There’s no way Morty could have missed it.

“Ugh, that’s not what I meant.” Beth pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration. “You know what, fuck it, if he doesn’t want to eat, that’s his problem.”

Four-fifths of the Smith family eat in relative silence, Rick taking advantage of the quiet to try to figure out what’s going on. Morty still hasn’t appeared by the time they’ve finished.

“Do you think I should go check on him? Take some dinner up to his room?” Jerry suggests.

“What? Jerry, no, it’s just a tantrum. He’s at that age. If he’s old enough to be a moody teenager, he’s old enough to heat up his own food when he misses dinner.” Beth replies dismissively.

“I’ll go.” Rick offers, trying to sound bored. Beth seems surprised, but doesn’t question her father. Rick takes the untouched plate of food and heads upstairs to Morty’s room. 

“Morty?” he calls, knocking on the door. No response. 

“Morty?” he calls again, slightly louder, continuing to drum his knuckles. Still getting no response, he barges his way in.

The room is dark except for the light Rick is letting in from the hallway. Morty is curled up on his bed, facing the wall and clutching a pillow to his chest.

“Morty?” he allows his voice to soften slightly.

“Go away, Rick.” Morty’s voice, already quiet and strained, is muffled from speaking into the pillow.

Rick sits gently on the edge of Morty’s bed.

“Look, wh-whatever this is, I’m gonna find out eventually, so you might as well just tell me now and get it over with.”

Morty turns to face Rick, seeming surprised. His eyes are red and swollen, and Rick feels a pang of hurt at the idea that Morty is this upset at the idea of Rick finding out… whatever it is he’s hiding.

“M-Mom and Dad didn’t tell you?” he asks hopefully.

“Nope. I just came here to give you this since, y’know, you didn’t bother to come down for dinner.” he keeps his gruff facade in place as he holds out the plate of food.

Morty sits up and takes the plate from him, setting it on his lap but making no move to eat it. He hesitates in the way Rick has come to know means he’s building himself up to ask something. Rick reels in an impatient urge to demand that Morty just spit it out.

“R-Rick?” Morty stammers. “You, um, w-would it be OK if… there was something wrong with me?”

Rick snorts to hide the concern he’s feeling. “Buddy, there’s already plenty of stuff wrong with you. Wh-wh-what’s one more thing?”

Morty winces at this comment, and Rick knows he’s fucked it up. “Yeah, but what if it was something… something actually wrong with me? Like, medically.”

OK, now Rick’s really confused. What is medically wrong with Morty that could be picked up by a school teacher?

“Morty, I can take you to any number of super advanced alien hospitals. Hell, I could probably fix it myself, if you just tell me what it is.”

Morty withdraws into himself even more. “I, um, I don’t think it’s something that can be fixed.”

“For cry-for God’s sake, Morty, what is it?” Rick demands. Morty refuses to answer, refuses to even look at him. Rick waits for as long as his patience can take, but Morty doesn’t yield. Feeling frustrated and defeated, Rick gets up and leaves to find an answer elsewhere.

He hears the rest of the family in the kitchen, and decides to ask them, when he’s distracted by an envelope on the couch with the distinct look of a letter from school. He reaches inside and pulls out Morty’s report card, scanning past the grades, which don’t interest him at the best of times, let alone now. He’s about to give up when he notices another sheet of paper inside the envelope. Unfolding it, he reads,

‘We recommend Morty for ASD assessment. If you wish to proceed or learn more, please contact-’ 

Rick stops reading. ASD? Autism? That’s it? The kid was acting like he had terminal cancer or something. Besides, Rick could’ve told Morty he was autistic within minutes of meeting him.

However, his indignation fades as stronger emotions take its place. He remembers the way he was treated as a child, the way adults talked about him like he couldn’t hear them, like there was something wrong with him. Like he was evil, or stupid, or something to be pitied. He remembers the way other children reacted to him, able to tell that he was different even at their young age. He remembers conversations between his parents late at night when they thought he was asleep, not quite hushed enough to avoid him overhearing. 

Rick swallows hard and pushes the memories away. Instead, a sinking feeling sets in as he realises that not only is Morty now experiencing these exact same thoughts and emotions, but that Morty thinks Rick will treat him like this. The feeling is some sort of sickening mix of shame and anger that curdles uncomfortably in his stomach. 

Rick turns to go back upstairs and speak to Morty, only to be met with Jerry.

“Did you read it?” Jerry asks.

“N-not now, Jerry.” Rick tries to brush past him, but Jerry catches his wrist to stop him. 

“Rick, wait.” 

Rick yanks his arm out of Jerry’s grasp, fighting the urge to rub away the residual feeling of touch. 

“You know I don’t like you taking Morty out on these adventures. If I had my way, you wouldn’t see him at all. But whatever you do, don’t you dare start treating him differently because of this, got it?” 

Jerry’s tone is surprisingly defensive in a way Rick never expected from the man. Sure, his voice is shaky and he’s clearly on edge, but he’s actually standing up for Morty. Still, Rick resents the implication that he’s the same as the people who made his own childhood hell.

“Jesus, Jerry, wh-wh-what do you think I am, some sort of monster? Why do you think I don’t like Morty going to that school in the first place? Why do you think I dropped out? It’s not a place for smart people, Jerry!” 

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, Rick knows he’s given too much away. Just the reminder of his own childhood has regressed him into a weak little kid who can’t hide his feelings. Thankfully, Jerry’s too shocked to respond, so Rick takes the opportunity to slip past him and make his way up to Morty’s room.

He doesn’t bother to knock this time, barging right in. Morty is lying on his front with his face buried in his pillow, his body shaking, the plate of food untouched on his desk. Rick sits on the bed again and rests a hand gently between Morty’s shoulders, feeling the boy trembling.

“Morty, it’s OK. I know.” he forces the words out, his voice toneless. Morty turns and lifts his head, looking at Rick through fearful, teary eyes. Rick takes a breath before continuing.

“It’s OK, Morty. M-m-me too.”

“You’re…?”

“Autistic, yeah.”

Morty sits up and throws himself at Rick with such speed and force it takes Rick a second to understand what’s happening. Morty clings to Rick, sobbing into his chest. Rick hesitates before wrapping his arms around the boy, one hand gently stroking his shoulder.

“Sh, Morty, it’s OK.”

Rick remembers his own past and squeezes Morty tighter. When Beth was born, he’d worried about her experiencing what he’d had to, sworn that he would shield her from judgement if she had been like him, but… well, she’d never made it that far. Now, with his grandson shaking in his arms, he feels those protective feelings bubble up all over again.

Gradually, he hears and feels Morty start to calm down and eventually, Morty pulls back, wiping his eyes.

“So is it… OK? That I might be autistic?”

“Kiddo, there’s no ‘might’ about it.” Rick feels Morty tense and quickly scrambles to make him feel better. “I-i-it’s fine, Morty! It’s not something bad. It’s just another variable of humanity, like… like the shape of your nose. You got my nose, dontcha?” 

Morty nods, but doesn’t look convinced. “But… I’m not smart like you.”

“Morty, nobody is smart like me, I’m a genius. Everyone else is dumb to me, even all these other so-called ‘smart people’.”

“So… you’re not smart because of autism? I thought autism made you either like a super-genius or dumb.”

“What? No, Morty, you’ve been watching too much bad TV. A-anyway, you’re focusing on the wrong thing here. Autism is just… your brain works differently to other people. Sometimes it makes you smart, sometimes it doesn’t.” 

Morty is quiet for a second, mulling this over. “My teacher said that’s why I’m struggling in school. You never struggled in school.”

Rick feels a reflexive burst of anger at that assumption, but tries to fight it back. 

“Morty, I struggled in school so much I dropped out. I struggled so much I ran away from home.” 

Again, the truth spills out more than he wants it to, the emotion eroding his filter. Morty looks at him in shock.

“What?”

“N-n-not that I’m saying you should do that, Morty. Y-y-you need to stay here so you can go on adventures with me.”

“What? No, Rick, that’s not what I mean. I-I don’t get it. You’re a genius, how did you struggle?”

Rick shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. 

“I didn’t like the way they treated me, like I was an annoyance, or a pity project, or a problem. They didn’t get me, I didn’t get them. They wanted me to do things the way they wanted, when they wanted. I didn’t like that. If they thought I was too smart to be struggling, they didn’t believe me, thought I was just being difficult. If they just saw me as a problem, they didn’t believe I was smart enough to do things myself or make my own decisions. I-I had to constantly act, just so they’d believe I was competent. It’s tiring, pretending to be someone you’re not all day, everyday, just to be treated like anyone else. I got tired of it, left so I could be with people who didn’t care what I did.”

Somewhere in his story, Rick realises his hands have curled into balls and his leg is bouncing. He pulls out his flask and swigs from it, partially for the enticing numbness promised by the alcohol, but mostly to give himself time to rein in his emotions before continuing.

“Out there in space, Morty, they don’t care. They don’t even know what a human is, let alone how humans should act. I-i-if an alien thinks you’re weird because you breathe oxygen and have hair, they don’t give a shit if you flap your hands o-or don’t know when it’s your turn to speak o-o-or whatever.”

“So I can only be normal to people who already think my species is weird enough that they have no idea what I’m supposed to behave like?” Morty responds despondently.

“No, Morty, I’m saying it doesn’t matter. You can do whatever you want, be whoever you want.”  

Morty doesn’t respond to that, and Rick remains silent. Eventually, Morty speaks up.

“I-I always knew I was different, y’know? I could never make friends or-or understand things as easy as other kids could. But hearing my teacher talk about me like there was something wrong with me… it made it real.”

Morty’s words choke themselves into silence as he ends the sentence. Rick can’t reply, emotions hijacking his brain. He pulls Morty back into a hug instead. After a moment, Morty continues, his voice quiet and muffled against Rick’s shoulder.

“A-and I know I’m not smart like you, or Mom, or Summer, and I thought that if you knew there was something wrong with me… you might not take me on adventures anymore. Or you might get a new Morty instead. One that’s not… broken.”

“Hey, stop that.” Rick scolds Morty, shaking him gently. “You’re not broken, OK? Neither of us are.” 

“Y-you mean it, Rick?”

“Course I do, buddy.”

Morty nestles into him even closer and Rick feels his grip tighten without meaning to.

“Thank you.” he hears Morty mumble, so quietly he almost can’t hear it.

After a while, Morty loosens his grip and Rick responds in kind. Morty pulls back to wipe at his eyes before his stomach growls loudly.

“Oh. I guess I should eat, huh?” he chuckles sheepishly.

Both of their gazes turn simultaneously to the plate of food on Morty’s desk. Rick has to admit, it wasn’t the best even when it was fresh, but after sitting out for a while it looks outright unappetising.

“You wanna go to that place we found on Epsilon 12?” he finds himself offering.

“Really?” Morty asks, finally seeming to perk up.

“Sure thing, buddy.”

Rick rests a hand on Morty’s shoulder as he shoots a portal and guides his grandson through it. It might be too late to shield Morty from discrimination completely, but he resolves to try his best anyway.

[naraven]

HSR ACTOR AU

summary: everything is the same but honkai: star rail is just a tv show, nothing is wrong so nothing is actually the same, but!! i was brainrotting over this with @faesther and i think we both learned: we are both the most delulu people on this planet 😋

wc // 945

tw // the tingyun neck snap is kind of glossed over but not that detailed

[dan heng/dan feng]

A shaky camera records what seems to be a phone focused on a young man, and muffled giggling comes from behind the camera. The recording shows a greenscreen background and a set of what appeared to be ruins. The camera zooms in toward the man, hanging out alone. Literally. 

“C’mon, Dan Heng, do the thing! Do the magical girl transformation!” Cheers an energetic girl behind the camera, and one could assume she was the one holding the phone. Another girlish laugh joins in behind the camera as the camera shakes with each laugh. 

“They picked the worst time to be taking a break. I can’t feel my left rib cage when I’m not moving.” The man dubbed ‘Dan Heng’ grins at the camera while swaying back and forth two feet off the floor. On either side were wires holding him up, and unintentionally or not making him sway. A gray haired young woman pushes him slightly and the three laugh hysterically as he swings even more.

The camera pans to ‘Blade’ and ‘Yanqing,’ who were staring at the script before their mini break ended. The teenage boy idly twirls his sword around, almost hitting ‘Blade,’ before noticing the camera. He jogs over and opens his mouth to pretend eat the camera.

“Are you even in this scene?” He joins ‘Stelle’ in pushing ‘Dan Heng’ back and forth. 

“Doesn’t matter! Are you even ready for your big scene with Magical Girl Dan Feng?”

“For the last time, I am not a magical girl.” The man being swung around protests, and the camera does nothing to help the unflattering way his legs swing like pendulums as he continues to be assaulted on both sides.

The group continues fooling around before time is called, and ‘Yanqing’ goes back to join ‘Blade’ to start the scene once more.

“Oh no not the sword again…” ‘Dan Heng’ sighs, “I’m already heavy enough alone, do we really have to add another weight on here?”

“Don’t be a baby, it’s gonna slip out soon anyways!” The voice behind the camera cheers.

‘Yanqing’ goes over his lines once more, watching as ‘Stelle’ stops ‘Dan Heng’ from swaying any more. The camera shows the teen whining as he has his own wires to worry about now. ‘Blade’ and ‘Kafka’ head over their own spots in the scene.

“We really bullied a teenage boy in this scene, didn't we?” ‘Dan Heng’ mutters as ‘Blade’ helps relieve his sore sides.

“Not you, it’s the other you.” 

“Same difference.”

~~~

[horn-y]

“Surrender!”

‘Dan Feng’ deftly swam through the air, swerving swords whizzing past his ear. ‘Yanqing’, for his young age, was firmly in the zone. He prepared a counterattack against the boy and he spotted ‘Blade’ preparing an attack of his own. His laughter echoes around the entire set, sending chills down ‘Dan Heng’s’ spine. 

‘Dan Heng,’ not wanting to be one-upped, goes through the motions that he had practiced with the other two on the set. He turns around, focused and in the zone himself. He could feel the eyes of off-set actors and staff and the cameras pointed at him, as ‘Dan Feng.’

Everything pauses for a moment. He and ‘Blade’ make eye contact, and rush the young boy. ‘Yanqing’ braces himself and prepares to parry the both of them, and ‘Dan Feng’ has to commend the younger actor for his confidence.

‘Blade’ brings back his weapon, swinging down at ‘Yanqing-’

“Cut!”

‘Dan Feng’ pauses, the sudden strident sound catching the attention of everyone. Before he could ask what happened, ‘Blade’ leans toward him.

“Oh, your horn.”

‘Blade’ bends down to pick up a branch-like prop, and it looks very similar to what he put on for his ‘Dan Feng’ outfit.

He brings a hand to his temple, and sure enough, there's a lack of horn on the right side of his head. He groans, leaning onto the wire in frustration.

“Nooo, we were doing so well…” He cries, covering his face with both hands.

‘Blade’ reassures him as he helps him put his horn back on. His praises are kind and well-meaning, but he can’t help but feel bad about the whole thing. If only he had noticed this stupid horn falling off earlier…

~~~

[sister snapped]

*SNAP!*

“HOLY FUCKING SHIT-”

“AHHHHH WHAT ON EARTH!”

‘Welt,’ although hiding his own shock, turns to scowl at his fellow members of the Astral Express, “Didn’t you know this was going to happen?”

“NO??” ‘March 7th’ snaps her neck just as quickly as ‘Tingyun’ did, and ‘Dan Heng’ worries she might need to be reminded how to properly do such a stunt safely.

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot…” ‘Stelle’ calms down quicker but still has to swallow thickly. ‘March 7th’ clings onto her costars arm, the tension loosening as she pets her head.

Staff were on set, offering ‘Tingyun’ a towel. They asked, concerned, if she needed a break, and she insists that she could do a couple more takes. She turns to her ‘benefactors’ with a sly smile on her face.

“Sorry, I scared you that bad, huh? Just make sure your reaction isn’t too genuine in the real take.” She boops ‘March 7th’s’ nose, to which the girl blinks at.

“Phew, yeah, alright, I’m ready now! I won’t freak out too badly the next time for sure.”

‘Stelle’ sighs, “You sound like you’re talking more to yourself than to her.”

The director calls for the scene to start once more. ‘Welt’ pats both ‘Stelle’ and ‘March 7th’s’ head before going over to his spot on the scene, “Just remember not to yell that loudly again. You got this, you two.”

“Thanks, sir…”

[dasphinxone]

As Above, So Below Chapter 6 Preview: Marriage Negotiations 👀

A.k.a, Shuri, Okoye, Namor and Attuma iron out that alliance and marriage contract in one of the receiving rooms of the palace that has a fountain so that them fish folk don't dry the hell out 🤣

Much thanks to the Attoye discord folks for helping break my writer's block, @pilesofpillows @mickimomo @xblackreader @mamajankyy

The final questions lay in matter of the marriage bed. 

“Consummation?” Okoye sucked her teeth, eyes blazing, “This is a political marriage!” 

Such fiery wrath, Attuma’s thoughts wandered, observing how she clenched her fist on the table between them.

Like many of his homeland, his father would take him and his siblings to watch the eruptions from the deep-sea volcanic vents. One could observe them from a safe distance as they spewed their powerful plasma into the sea. It provided the crucial elements that granted the seabed's soil its life and made the seawater richer with nutrients. But wander too close and it’d end in your incineration.

A necessary risk for the richness of the reward.

Attuma hungered with anticipation at the potential to enflame her even further. Would her sparkling eyes flash their rich, dark brown with as much life as they currently did when he fully claimed her? Would her little noises of indignation slide into begging moans as he pleasured her in every single way he knew himself capable of?

Namor cleared his throat, for once appearing genuinely unnerved. “We-”

“You, you mean” Shuri swiftly retorted while pointing accusingly at him, “Don’t drop this mess on me.” 

Namor poured himself a glass of water. It took him some time to drink it all down.

Looking over to Attuma, he took in how his general sat rigid in his seat with his eyes raking over his betrothed in rapt contemplation. The Wakandan general pretended not to notice. Nevertheless, Namor couldn't miss the way she'd positioned herself to ensure he was never out of her sight. The tightness of her spine and in the rigid line of her shoulders made it obvious she was ready to spring into action at any moment.

The King abruptly stood and marched over to the massive fountain in the center of room. Gracefully diving in to submerge himself, he broke the surface after a bit. 

Shuri bit at her lower lip, unable to tear her eyes way from how he ran a deliberate hand through his curling, wet hair to brush it back from his forehead. A flex of his bicep sent rivulets of water running down it. The fish man then had the audacity to smirk at her before he once again slipped beneath the surface. 

“Attuma, you look as though you could use refreshment,” Namor nodded at him as he reemerged.

Attuma's attention snapped from Okoye before he rapidly rose from his seat without a word and joined his king. After his initial plunge, he yanked his rebreather from his face and set it on the wide ledge of the fountain. Its pool was deep enough for him to completely disappear under its surface, even as he still wore his hammerhead headdress. 

Shuri and Okoye exchanged skeptical looks before the Princess shrugged and wandered over to the fountain. 

It took by the end of day two for the Talokanil to feel comfortable discussing matters of state while swimming in the fountain's pool versus staying out of it to not appear weak to outsiders in between breaks. Now day three, the warmth of the noonday sun streamed down into the room through the hexagonal skylights above. It cast both women in its soft, golden rays. None of which was lost on the Talokanil men who watched them from the comfort of the pool.

Shuri took to sitting on the wide ledge of the fountain and dangling her bare legs in the water where she'd pushed her trousers up to her knees. She'd never been one for protocols. And it wasn't as though Ayo, Aneka and the handful of Dora guarding them weren't still around. Meanwhile Okoye sat next to her. Except she kept her legs crossed and back straight. The very picture of disciplined irritation as Attuma swam in random patterns back and forth in front of her. 

Attuma didn't require his mouth rebreather since he was in the water and his gill rebreather remained in place. For the first time, Okoye was able to see his entire face. Along with his natural skin color beneath the surface. She refused to acknowledge what a difference it all made in his appearance. 

Full lower lip tilted in the shadow of a smirk, his eyes never left her as he gracefully twirled and kicked in the water. Like some malignant mermaid attempting to seduce her into the waves. Aggravated with how she found herself mesmerized at his movements so different from the way he wandered on land, Okoye cleared her throat and finally tore her gaze from him to Shuri. 

Namor lithely tread the water as he faced Shuri. “In both Talokan and Wakanda, marriages are a hallowed celebration of life. Consummation ensures that no one may break it apart. Or back out of it,” he glanced to Okoye. 

“Don’t accuse me of trying anything of the sort,” Okoye shot back at him. It took all of her willpower to not flick water in his direction. Not with that infernal leer that followed her retort. “At the same time,” she frowned, “This is an arranged engagement. By Bast, it came close to murder at our first interaction,” she grit out.  

“Treaties have been built on less-”

“As I said, arranged royal marriages have not occurred in nearly a century here,” Shuri insisted. 

Namor tilted his head to take her in, eyes hooded. “It is known and has been relayed several times throughout these discussions. Nonetheless, our goddess Ix Chel still demands her sacrifice of the bedding. Without her blessing from the moon within 13 sacred days from the last nuptial ceremony? This coupling may fall heavy with great tribulations,” he furrowed his brow.

Behind him, Attuma grunted in agreement.  

Closing her eyes, Okoye let out a ragged sigh. She dropped her hands to her knees and threw her head back for a long moment before snapping her eyes open. “This is utter insanity-”

“I will court you, in ba'ate'el,” Attuma’s deep rumble echoed throughout the chamber. 

Okoye’s stupefied expression took longer than she liked to fall from her face. “You will what?” she whispered.

Attuma leisurely swam forward to the ledge right beneath her. Placing his palms flat against it on either side of her knees had her surrounded.

Her gaze naturally flit along how droplets of water slid down his strong, aquiline nose and high cheekbones to his neck. Pooling in the hollow of his throat at his gill rebreather, they glistened down the beefy muscle of his torso before disappearing into the pool. She sucked in a breath at his tawny, warm brown color beneath the surface. 

Only now did she distantly recall Shuri explaining that unlike Namor, the rest of the Talokanil only retained their biological skin colors while submerged. Something to do with how they processed oxygen in the air versus their watery homes. Witnessing it this closeup sent Okoye heady with curiosity as he made his proposition. 

“Grant me 13 turns of the sun to show how you are to be treasured wholly," he confidently retorted. "If you do not wish to be properly bedded at the end of that phase, I will make no move to do so,” he swore.

Okoye gawked at him. "But your bed-"

"Our bed," he emphasized, floating beneath her.

"...will not be considered blessed by your gods," Okoye sped forward, ignoring the heat rising to her cheeks. "I won't be accused of disrespecting your customs or bringing down your gods' wrath to you," she side-eyed Namor as he fixed her with an enigmatic look.

Attuma shrugged. "I have you. So they have clearly blessed me."

"Stop that," Okoye muttered and looked away, "Stop saying things of that sort."

"Why?" Attuma arched a brow, "It is true-"

“There’s no need to…undertake all of that,” she sniffed, "The courting. It's unnecessary."

Taken aback, Attuma shot a perplexed look to Namor over his shoulder. “She does not wish to be properly wooed?” he reeled off in utter confusion with a dumbfounded wave of his hands, GRIOT translating, “By me?! How can this be?”

Namor languidly shrugged. He barely managed to hold back a laugh at the same time Shuri let out a deep sigh and dropped her head into her hands. Okoye slapped her palm on the fountain's edge between them. 

“Look at me,” she ordered Attuma, “I am to be your wife, not him,” she tersely nodded at Namor.

The Talokanil general regarded her with disbelief as he kicked upwards. It allowed him to haul himself out of the water all the way to his waist. Okoye didn't back away as he crossed his arms on the ledge in front of her to lean down to rest on them. She stared down at him in reproach. It only made him tartly grin before his expression snapped to serious. 

“You will be courted appropriately,” he insisted, "For no one will accuse me of being unable to provide for you.”

“I’ve provided for myself perfectly fine and for decades,” Okoye leaned in even closer. 

Attuma rolled his eyes. “It speaks no less of you to accept what is mine. That does not lower you in anyone’s view.” 

“What if it does in my view?” Okoye snapped. 

Attuma wrinkled his nose in disagreement. “Then I say that perhaps you learn to view the support of others as a boon rather than any weakness within yourself," he slid his damp hand close enough to nearly touch her knee

She balked, nodding in disagrement. “Watch it, you’re going to get me all wet,” she lightly pushed his hand away. 

Except he effortlessly intertwined his fingers against hers to press their palms together. Okoye swallowed back a gasp at the way his pleasantly calloused skin felt some degrees hotter than an unenhanced human’s as he gave her light squeeze. His grip dwarfed hers, refusing to let go as she instinctively attempted to pull away. 

“I am sure I will, in watan utia'al [my wife to be].”

Okoye froze. 

Did he just wink at her?!

He’d already unhanded her and dipped beneath the surface by the time GRIOT finished his translation. He then had the nerve to aimlessly swim in circles beneath her, the entirety of his coloring easy to observe now. Not that she was distracted by it. Nor his unrepentant smile up at her. 

Handsome.

He was undeniably handsome, she rapidly realized. Heart beating against her ribs, she looked to the Princess. As though she'd find relief there.

Shuri pressed her lips together, trying to contain herself before she raised her hands in surrender and hummed, “Ungandijongi sisi [Do not look at me, sister].”

Okoye vividly imagined running a spearpoint through Namor’s neck as his laughter bounced off the walls. “So we are in agreement, Okoye of the Midnight Angels? My general shall put his 13 days of courtship to use?” 

“Do I have a choice?” Okoye grumbled even as she glanced down to find Attuma coming back to the surface. 

“All choices contain their consequences,” Namor sagely replied. “Both of yours have ushered in a new age for our nations. We are grateful.”  

[taggedmemes]

SENTENCE MEME THE WOMBATS / FIX YOURSELF, NOT THE WORLD

spare me the drone of your conversation.

spare me my lack of sophistication.

i don't wanna sit around and just get high.

i'm all dressed up.

you walk in the room and my tongue gets tied.

it's such a heavenly sight.

i just hope i don't ruin this.

i just hope i don't ruin this, getting too fucked up to remember this.

you flip me upside down.

you take me out of my head.

i'm kind of getting into it.

you pull me out of my lows.

let's see where this shit goes.

i can't recall all the things you said.

i'm feeling pretty good about the two of us.

i've got a couple secrets.

dwelling on the past just kills the vibe.

one last slide down the rabbit hole.

there's still no room in paradise.

the kids aren't wrong.

i'm looking for a spark in the heart.

you can drag the years behind you, or you can let them go.

i see a tunnel at the end of the light.

i'm always a mess come the end of the night.

i'm forever locking myself in the glass of your rearview.

if you ever leave, i'm coming with you.

you know i'll do whatever you want me to.

i'll get out of bed.

i'm your reluctant optimist.

i'm stuck to the gum that's stuck on your shoe.

am i losing you in the dark?

no more breaking stuff.

no more acting up.

you only ever catch me out.

if you ever leave me, i'm coming with you.

you can scream like a banshee and still nothing comes.

i am ready for the high.

nothing works worse than the weekend fix.

i'm ready for the high life.

a kiss without a fist fight.

a bang without the dynamite.

i always think in extremes.

i should be pulling you close to me.

maybe generation x are the chosen ones.

they've got everything they need beneath their aching thumbs.

underneath the low there's a lower part.

no hotel guaranteed.

a professional learns from all their rookie moves.

there must be some method to the madness.

just one more smile and then i'll go.

this could be a holiday or an intersection where two roads fuse.

stop. i don't need to know.

fuck my sadness.

fuck our options.

fuck the life plan.

no more worry, i've killed it with both hands.

just give me something to light the fuse.

she was dreaming of her big break.

she constructed the right attitude.

the universe has got plans.

competition can dry you up.

people don't change people, time does.

we're all trying to get better.

we've all had quite enough of this pleasant displeasure.

i'd love to help you out.

i'd love to get us off this swing, this roundabout.

today i had a big idea.

there's no room for mistakes out here.

everybody wants to be the man.

everything i love is going to die.

keep your big mouth shut.

stop wasting my time.

icarus was my best friend.

i'm going to make him proud in the end.

there's no experimenting here.

no threesomes like we talked about when we were blacking out.

what a crazy pranged out year.

we spent most of it kissing teeth.

the moment starts to pass.

i start reverting back.

sell my spine to save my neck.

i'm starting to forget.

howl into the void again.

why don't you chop my tongue out and put my insides inside a jar.

you shake me up, you shake me down.

work's easy, but life's getting hard.

you don't speak for me.

could use some peer pressure.

you're so well put together.

tell me, sugar.

is there something i need to know?

pull the trigger.

pull me back from the edge.

pull me out of my head.

she is wildfire.

i could live in here forever.

let's find a drug to fix me.

guess i'm always blinded by the emperor's new clothes.

there's always something lurking down the rabbit hole.

in the back of your mind there's a crosshair.

don't wanna cause any trouble.

don't wanna poke the bear in the zoo.

drama becomes elastic then snaps back into place.

i saw your temperament running out the gate.

don't wanna stand in your way.

i'm pretty much worried about everything.

i worry that i'm worrying so much.

i worry too much.

multiples of three keep me warm, keep me stable.

superstition's a wasp at your picnic.

i'll say it again but without feeling.

i'll get what i think if i keep on thinking.

it's not paranoia if it's really there.

i'm not sure how much milk is enough milk.

bang my head against a wall.

i let the smallest of things ruin my day.

i'm the voicemail that you coulda shoulda checked sooner.

i'm the only obstruction in the way.

i don't wanna lose myself in someone else's game.