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6ix9inewiturmom · 21 hours

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I Guess Youre Not a Tough Guy After All.. - Matthew Sturniolo

Summary: You and Matt had been friends for a while but what happens when you catch him staring at you? could you tear down his tough guy persona?

Warnings: SMUTTYY!! P in V, Sub!Matt, very soft Dom!FemReader, Praising, Begging, Spit mentioned, handjob ish, Oral (male receiving)

A/N: GUYSSSS THIS IS MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT SUB MATT… i was scared of writing this at first but please let me know how this turned out, also i wrote this whole fic listening to Older by Isabel Larosa

Psa: USE UR OWN IDEAS DONT STEAL MINE.

Request: Yes by Anon

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Ever since 10th grade, The triplets and I have been attached at the hip. Everything we did was with each other, though we were all friends, we had a little family. Matt and I were closer than the rest of them but he's anti feelings so it's not like I could ever figure out how he felt anyway. His tough guy persona would be the absolute death of me.

Matt and I were watching a movie in the house alone because the triplets each decided they wanted to ‘venture’ out of being up each other's asses all the time. In my peripheral view, I catch Matts's eyes gleaming at me in a way he normally doesn't look at me causing me to look over and make him quickly shoot his head back towards the television. “Staring is rude Matthew,” I say smirking towards him.

“I hate when you call me that and you know it,” he says adjusting his lap “I wasn't staring at you, I was looking out the window towards our neighbors I thought someone was outside”

“Nice cover” I chuckle softly “but the window is more behind us than right beside me” I playfully wink.

“S-shut up, you know what I mean” he stutters out.

“Awe someone nervous now” I giggle softly nudging his shoulder “But you got a little drool on ya chin” I point at his chin.

He quickly wiped his chin checking for drool. “Fuck” he mutters “You know what,” he smirks shifting his body over and beginning to tickle me

I start laughing uncontrollably “Stop Matthew”

“Fine fine” he surrenders moving back to his original position “C-can I tell you something” he nervously says fiddling with his fingers.

“You know you can tell me anything” i shift my body so its facing him.

“I uh- fuck” he struggles to get his words out. “I like you…like more than an uh a friend would, you don't have to say anything back but um I thought I'd tell you before-” I cut him off by crawling on top of his lip and pressing my lips against his passionately.

I softly pull away “I like you too” I smile down at him as his gaze softens. “And I have liked you for a while”

“You- you have?” he stutters.

“wasn’t it obvious” I smile placing my hands on his chest

“Fuck” he breathes out leaning in and kissing me again “You have no idea what you to do to me Y/N” he mutters through the kiss.

My lips make their way down his neck softly nibbling at his soft skin making his breathing become heavier “please” he whispers.

“Please what pretty boy? Use your words love” i whisper back into his neck leaving soft purplish marks on his neck.

“Touch me, something, I- I can't take it,” he says grinding his hips against me.

I lean up smiling at him “You're such a pretty boy, I wish I told you more” I get off his lap placing myself between his legs and balancing on my knees. his gaze on me stayed persistent as I toyed with the hem of his sweatpants he had been lounging around in all day. He lifted his hips up allowing me to free his pent-up cock. I had never seen it before but I could tell all the “small dick” jokes he makes in fact were just jokes. My eyes lit up at it as it sprung free from his boxers with a bit of precum leaking from the tip.

“You see something that you like baby?” a cocky smirk is placed on his face.

I placed my bottom lip in my teeth and nodded. My tongue poked out of my mouth and kitty licked the tip making him groan and throw his head back. “Fuck” he says with almost a whimper in his voice.

My lips wrap around his cock as my head bobs up and down his thick shaft batting my eyelashes up at him with his head resting on the back of the couch as his legs start twitching. “C-close” he chokes out.

I hum in response while I take my hand and jerk the rest of his cock that doesn't fit in my mouth up and down and swirl my tongue around his tip. His hips jerk up as he releases his pent-up orgasm down my throat. “Fuck” he drags out “I've never finished t-that f-fast before” he stutters “That's how much control you have over me”

I bit my lip again smiling at the mess I made of him, I crawled back onto him once again placing a passionate kiss on his lips. “I need you” he mutters.

“How do you need me?” I tilt my head to the side a bit. “You can tell me” I send him a reassuring smile

“I-i-i need to be in you” his voice shakes

I smiled pulling my tank top over my head and shimmying my shorts off my legs throwing them off the couch and leaving me bare on top of him. I guess I chose the right day to wear absolutely nothing under my clothes. “You're so beautiful” he smiles up at me as I place my hands on his shoulders to support myself aligning himself with my desperate hole and slowly sinking down as I feel him touch the deepest part of me. “Oh Matt” I whimper.

My hips begin to work up and down his cock as the room fills with the sounds of my thighs hitting him, and our sounds of pleasure. My hands grip his shoulders for more support as I begin to move faster up and down.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me” he whimpers in my ear.

“You feel so good IN me,” I say as my head falls back and my hips glide my wet pussy all over him making not only me but him as well see stars.

I begin to bounce my hips up and down on his cock as his hands grip my love handles for support leaving crescent shaped dents in my skin.

“I'm so fucking close,” he says burying his head in my neck and softly sucking marks on my neck to hide his whimpers as he becomes closer to his edge.

“Me too pretty boy, hold on a few more alright?” I reassure him grabbing the back of his head in a soft way where I'm hugging him as my pace gets faster and sloppier as I get close myself.

“W-w-where can I finish” he stutters as I feel his legs give out beneath me.

“In me, please?” I say as I grind my hips down to allow him to feel deeper in me.

His hips jerk upwards, and his head goes back as a moan almost a whimper escapes his lips as he coats my walls white releasing into me.

Feeling his release into me made me go faster and harder onto him “S-s-sensitive” he hisses and within a few seconds a white ring formed around the base of his cock as my cum dripped down along his cock and I slowly pulled off of him and plopped down next to him.

“You did so good” I smiled moving the loose hair from his eyes back so I could see him better.

“Thank you” he blushed pulling me to his side “you don't understand how many nights in my life I dreamed of this moment” he breathed out.

“I guess you're not a tough guy after all eh?” i giggled softly trying to catch my breath from my previous orgasm.

“Oh shush,” he says flustered trying to cover his face

“You pretty when you blush Matthew,” I say lifting my head up and kissing his cheek making him get flustered a little more.

“I think we might wanna restart the movie” he chuckles “and that's definitely not the last time we're doing this either” he looks down at me smiling.

“And we might wanna get changed so Nick and Chris don't walk in on us” I nervously laugh

"Great idea," He exclaimed with laughter as we helped each other get dressed.

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A/N PT 2: SO this was supposed to be out earlier but the triplets went live on twitch and i spent the last 4 1/2 hours watching them and not finishing this LMFAO also i love writing sub matt.. LOWKEY WAS NOT A FAN OF SUB MATT BUT I LOVED IT 😫

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slvtforwandanat · 2 days

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a staring problem/A Billie Eilish fanfic

not really any warnings just making out

you were asked to help interview Billie Eilish a week before her album "hit me hard and soft" came out, basically holding a clipboard and writing everything down, you always though Billie was quite beautiful and you assumed she was sweet because you had never met her, but once you all sat down, you didn't know something about her, just something was, a bit freaky?

as the lady kept asking questions your eyes darted to Billie's mouth, her movements her tounge, somehow it turned you on, everytime she bit her lip or spoke, as she was talking about her un-realesed song "Chihiro" she caught you in the act, you head fell to your clipboard hoping she hadn't seen you staring at her incredibly kissable lips, "would you like some tea?" the lady said "i'd love some!" "alright ill be back in a quick sec!", just as she left the room the vibe got freaky, and slow, you didnt know this feeling as if horniness was in the air, "so, h'much they pay you for this, i mean c'mon writing everything down must be bored right" you froze, shit she was talking to you, just act normal!!! "its fine" wow how dry, but if you have a conversation you were sure to zone out staring at her lips and you couldent risk getting caught "c'mon baby i dont bite" you felt your cheeks glow red from her calling you that "there we go, finally a reaction" you had'nt moved a bit, you were too nervous, you heard billie get up from her seat and moving closer you you, soon her legs were infront of your face, you saw her finger go below your face and move you head facing her eyes staring directly at her "your a beauty"

all of a sudden both of Billie's thigh had trapped you on your seat scooting inwards, you quickly held her waist afraid she might fall, she looked deep into your eyes biting her lip and giving the naughtiest smirk, "you like that don't you?" shit, i think i do, Billie head slowly moved closer and closer to your eventually her mouth attaching to yours, at first it was slow, but she got faster and sloppier, even hitting the wall with her hand a few times, her tongue explores your mouth and your hands gripping on her ass tightly, after 2 minutes of no breath and making out, you hear footsteps, shit the interviews was coming back, billie's mouth un-attached for your in a POP!, a saliva line was all that was left from that kiss, she wiped your lips took a good look into your eyes, got up , slipped a note into your pocket, and sat back down "now where were we- are you alright y/n? it looks like somebody beat you up" "oh i'm quite fine thanks"

holy shit that was amazing.

#wlw smut #billie eilish x reader #billie eilish x y/n #billie eilish x you #billie eilish #billie eilishs #hmhas #hit me hard and soft #lunch billie eilish

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enwifen · 2 days

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… 𝓚iss me ౨ৎ

🫧 𓂃 (추) kisses can be scary, especially when you have no idea how, but when your best friend offers to show you the ropes you wonder… how bad can it be?

a fic about jakey and kissing cause meife wants to be kissed (sigh)

warning: suggestive at most, making out wc. 1.8k

When Sim Jaeyun became friends with you, never in his life could he have imagined the current situation that the two of you were in.

A random episode of Friends plays on your tv acting as background noise. Closing your eyes, you attempt to stop the tornado of thoughts chaotically swirling in your mind. Jake eyes you curiously, noting the way your eyebrows pinch together slightly which was a telltale sign that something was bothering you.

“You okay?” Your eyes shoot open which startles him a little.

“Yeah, fine.”

Jake gives you a ‘I know you’re not fine so tell me what’s up’ look. “Seriously, I am.”

“Y/n.”

“What!”

Jake sighs softly “Tell me what’s wrong.” He can see all the emotions wash over you, your mouth opening and closes as you try and find the right way to voice your thoughts without sounding like a mess.

Sitting up from having your head in his lap, you switch to facing Jake sitting cross legged on the couch. “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.”

Nodding slowly, confusion is evident on your friend’s face. “Right… what’s wrong with that? Plenty of people our age are in the same boat as you.”

“Well— yes but, I’m scared that when it comes to it, I’m gonna be an awful kisser.”

“You can’t be that bad, either way it’s expected since it’ll be your first, all first kisses are bad.”

“No they’re not.” Jake squints at you before laughing.

“Yeah? And how would you know?”

Realising the irony you quickly backpedal. “I meant I don’t want mine to be bad.” The corners of his lips turn downwards as he nods, understanding where you’re coming from. A small beat of silence passes.

“What was your first time like?”

A smirk makes its way onto Jake’s lips. “Woah are we still talking about kisses here— ow!”

Still armed with your weapon (a fluffy pillow) you flinch at him in an attempt to be threatening. “You know what I mean!”

“I do, I do, lemme think…” he trails off, looking up as his memory takes him back a few years. With Jake’s gaze averted, you’re able to admire him a little (platonically, of course). His fluffy bangs hide his brows that are bunched together in thought, plush bottom lip caught between his teeth — a bad habit you noticed he had. “Ah! I remember, it was about two years ago.”

The fluffy pillow serves as a source of comfort as you hug it to your chest. “You remember my ex, Ahrin, right?” Of course you did, you never really liked her all that much. She was whiny and took up all of Jake’s attention, the period of time that they were together was the longest you had went with seeing him so irregularly.

Not that you wanted to be in her position or anything. You just missed your bestie. So much so you lost sleep at night due to how much you would cry but, like, aren’t all friends like that?

Don’t all friends do that?

Don’t they repeatedly check their phone to see if the other had texted; typing and deleting hundreds of messages only for them to be left unsent? Even after the last time they had spoken was just a couple days ago?

Don’t they apologise for leaving you on delivered for so long and spend hours promising to make it up to you, calling you ‘baby’ and ‘love’ because they know you like it?

And don’t they come over the very next day because he couldn’t wait a day longer, hugging you as if his life depended on it.

Maybe they do all of that, maybe they don’t. You and Jake did though.

“…so yeah, I guess it wasn’t terrible but- are you even listening?” Jake asks in slight disbelief, finally glancing at you who seemed to be zoning out.

“Huh? Oh- yeah! Of course I was.”

“Repeat what I just said then.” He deadpans and you’re caught, slumping in defeat.

“Whatever- my first kiss was with Ahrin, it felt kinda good back then but looking back it wasn’t that special.” Jake shrugs though you sense there’s a little more to the story.

“So you didn’t… feel any fireworks?”

He snorts at that “you watch too many movies.”

“Is that a crime? Not my fault I enjoy romanticising things… especially firsts.”

“Romanticise all you want, as long as you know none of it’s real.”

You mimic Jake’s tone earlier “and how would you know? Have you kissed anyone besides Ahrin?” Jake shakes his head and for some reason that makes you happy.

“Did I manage to ease any of your worries with my story- well I guess you didn’t listen, huh.”

“I did!”

“Oh yeah? Where did we kiss then?”

You blush, immediately giving yourself away again as you name the first thing that comes to mind. “The school library…?”

“You really think I’m that much of a nerd?” Your silence makes Jake reach for the pillow in your lap to deliver a blow of Karma though you successfully manage to block it in time, letting out a squeal.

“I surrender!” Jake grins and puts the pillow down.

“Anyway, like I said, don’t work yourself up so much about first kisses… you could always redeem yourself with the second.”

Biting your lip in thought, you nod “I guess you’re right…”

“You’re still worried about it, aren’t you?”

Guilty again, you nod.

“Babe, I promise it’s not that deep- I could even help you out if you wanted.”

You blink once. Twice. Three times for good measure.

What did he just say?

Chuckling softly at your reaction, Jake repeats himself. “I said that I could help you out… if you wanted, like, teach you how to kiss or whatever.” He adds, trying to seem completely casual as if he didn’t just basically ask to blur the already fuzzy lines between you two.

An itch in your throat causes you to swallow, trying to digest your best friend’s proposal.

He was someone you trusted a lot, Jake wasn’t some mediocre looking guy either — he was attractive, and you’d be damned to turn down the opportunity to have your first kiss with him.

“Okay.” Jake looks surprised for a moment but his shock is quickly replaced by a warm smile. Just that alone is enough to comfort you, easing the nerves that had begun to make your body feel like it was vibrating.

He shifts a little on the couch to sit more comfortably before patting his lap, gesturing for you to sit. It’s not like this would be the first time but, now with the given circumstances everything felt different. The poor pillow is tossed aside as you climb into Jake’s lap, rough denim of his cargos brushing against your thighs.

Anxiously you look up at him, clutching the fabric of his sweatshirt. He smiles again, reassuring you with his warm hands gliding up and down your sides in a comforting manner.

“We’ll start off slow, okay?”

“Okay- wait.”

“Hm?”

You reach back into your pocket and pull out a small tube of watermelon flavoured chapstick. Sure this was just practice but the next worse thing after being a bad kisser was having chapped lips. Jake watches, amused until you tuck the tube away. “Good to go?” You exhale.

“Yeah.” Jake advises you to take a few deep breaths before starting. He gives you as much time as you need, even breathing with you because, frankly, he’s kinda nervous too. Not so much about kissing but more, wanting to make sure to give you the experience that you wanted. Yes it was ‘just practice’ but this was also literally your first kiss so, Jake had to take this seriously.

“First, try leaning into me.” Slowly you do, now close enough to where your foreheads are touching. As pretty as Jake’s hair was, it was a little itchy- but not uncomfortable, maybe ticklish? Focus!

Jake chuckles a little deeper than usual. “I can practically hear you overthinking, relax.”

“I’m trying.”

“We’ll try harder.”

Worry evaporates as you get used to being so close, reminding yourself that it was just Jake, just Jake who was inches away from your lips, just the same, good old bestie Jake.

You rub your lips together in anticipation, eager to progress onto the next step. Jake initiates the kiss, tilting his bed to leave a soft peck on your lips. It was barely there, barely even lasted a second but you still felt it and boy did it leave you buzzing. Like a bee to a flower, eager for more pollen.

“You try.” He whispers, licking his lips. Greeted with the sweet yet artificial taste of your chapstick. Jake is patient, not commenting on the long pause until you finally close the gap between you two. Yours was definitely longer than Jake’s, maybe lasting .5 more seconds.

“Sorry…” Jake smiles wide with a slight shake of his head.

“No, no, you’re good… how.. how did that feel?”

“Nice..” you mutter, shy. You’re rarely ever shy in front of Jake — this guy had practically seen all sides of you but now? You guess he was bringing out a new side of you even you didn’t know existed.

“Good, that’s good.” He mumbles. Time seems to tick away impossibly slowly. The room is silent except for your breaths, Netflix questioning whether or not anybody was still watching when the only thing you were watching was Jake and vice versa.

“Now try doing what you just did but longer.” You oblige, pressing your lips to his again. Plump and pillowy would be the right way to describe Jake’s lips, plump, pillowy and red, most likely from how often he bites them.

This time you only pull away once you need a breath but two fingers grabbing your chin gently pull you in again and you can’t find it in you to stop him. It’s now that you realise kissing isn’t as complicated as you had thought, following Jake’s lead of some sort of pattern.

One long kiss, pull away, a few shorter kisses, pull away and… that’s it, you’re kissing him.

Somewhere along the way you grew even more comfortable, arms now wrapped around his neck whilst one of Jake’s encircle your waist, his other up as his hand cups your cheek. How long you’ve been like this you don’t know but you’re certainly not complaining.

There were tons of other kisses out there but you were perfectly content with these ones for now. Safe and comforting — not at all intimidating like you had previously thought.

After a particularly long pause in activity, Jake rests his forehead against yours again. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

He opens his eyes to give you the same look he did earlier. You smile until your nose scrunches and giggles escape.

“For real this time… now kiss me.”

#enha fluff #enha imagines #enha x reader #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x you #enha jake #jake fluff #jake x reader #enhypen jake #jake sim #sim jaeyun fic #sim jaeyun fluff #sim jaeyun

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suhmingo · 2 days

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I, uh, don’t know how to actually preface this. It’s really just a mini rant/pseudo-analysis of chapter 167. Which was pretty crazy. But, I loved this chapter, and yes I’m typing this with two hands.

But first let me try and do some housekeeping.

It’s perfectly fine to have an emotional, even visceral reaction to 167. That’s the point

If you feel grossed out, betrayed, unnerved, dumbstruck, or any form of bamboozled by today’s chapter then good! That means the emotional weight of the scene is working, and that you are a proper, feeling human. The

The whole point of fiction is to explore themes that would be difficult, even dangerous to experience from a place of safety. To me that’s, like the entire reason I ever wanted to become a writer, one of the most unsung broke boy jobs in the history of the world. My desire for Denji to get better in a world that is dead set on making him fail is the entire reason I have an emotional investment in the first place. Stories are inherently about conflict and the struggle with resolving conflict, that should make you uncomfortable.

Say what you want about Chainsaw Man. I can take it, I’m a big boy. But one thing that it has always had since Chapter one is a well-defined through line about the complexity of our innate desire to find some type of love fighting against the pain-wrought pathway that it leads us down. In a good story, every chapter should have some way of showing the highs and lows of that theme, and I’m pretty confident when I say that 167 perfectly shows us that.

It’s bad. Don’t let people who brag about their trauma tolerance tell you otherwise. You are well within your right to feel. But I think it would behoove people to 1. Realize that this is fiction, and its effects, though evocatory, are ultimately abstract, and 2. Realize that exploring dark themes allows people, especially a 16-25 (Or whatever the target audience for CSM is) to grapple with and think on human concepts as all encompassing as love.

From a writing standpoint, one chapter has escalated the tension of the entire story more than anything that has happened in Part 2 so far. It’s admittedly a bit early to call it peak. But looking at it as a simple story beat, that’s a fantastic chapter as far as the medium goes.

Listen, the whole point of stories since, like, Mesopotamian times was the tension between wanting a character to achieve happiness vs the hardships and trauma that life happens in life. They’re supposed to put you in a sensitive state emulative of a tense environment. I’d argue that the prevalence of escapist fiction and fandom has changed how we emotionally digest fiction. But that’s a whole nother essay.

The events of 167 aren’t some horny non-sequitur. Everything that happened is entirely a logical, if graven, extension of how we know characters.

Denji is at the lowest point we have ever seen him at. He was literally dismembered and put back together less than 10 chapters ago. The last chapter literally had him groveling on his knees at a cauldron’s brew of his own weakness, immaturity, stupidity, and horniness. I think we can all understand why he would not be in a good mental state to just lose himself in the moment. You can’t even blame Denji in this situation. He was in an entirely vulnerable state that was exploited entirely by

Yoru. Who is the literal embodiment of war. If you think that someone who represents the human fear of war is going to play fair. Turn on the news for five minutes. Yoru is a character we are not supposed to like. She’s fun, because she’s a work of fiction, but she’s arguably less trustworthy than Fami. She’s a violent, exploitative being who possesses a dead teenager. There is no “too far” for her if it’s the fastest way on the road to conquest. Reminder that before she caught feelings, her plan was literally just to castrate Denji because she thought that would further her goals. The fact that it turned into kissing was actually sparing a worse fate. IMO that savior was all in the actions of Asa.

Asa. I genuinely believe that, subconsciously, Asa wanted to kiss Chainsaw Man. Not like how it happened. Never like how it happened, but her desire for Denji/Chainsaw Man's affection has always been evident. She gets irreparably upset when she’s stood up, she makes cringe poetry for Chainsaw Man, and her entire goal as of now is in some misguided desire to make him happy. I also don’t think Asa is actually demisexual, or averse to sex. She is afraid of intimacy, which stops her from ever acting on her urges. Notice that both times Yoru has kissed Denji, it was after the idea of sex and intimacy was explicitly brought to the conversation. To me that screams that Yoru is spurred on by her host’s innate desires. Hell, it’s been shown that in the same way that Yoru has made Asa more proactive of a human being, Asa has made her feel emotions. I don’t think it's a coincidence that Yoru is blushing while kissing Denji. None of that was part of her plan. That’s Asa’s emotional influence getting the better of her in what I predict to be a fantastic role reversal of their initial contract.

This is thematically in line with how Chainsaw Man presents love and sets up deeper themes.

Remember way back in Part One when Denji was just an initial horndog and everybody kinda hated him? I hated Denji back then! When I first heard of Chainsaw Man I genuinely thought it was going to be a mommy-kink fuelled power fantasy. But I was wrong. Wonderfully wrong. Fujimoto used the allure of that idea in Makima to present a story about how dangerous and manipulative the very idea of grooming is, and how damaging that can be to a person. The same way Denji’s desire to get the approval of Makima was poisonous to him is mirrored in his desire for vapid, instantly gratifying sex is being portrayed here. I genuinely think this chapter is going to age like fine wine, and I am absolutely willing to take egg on my face if I’m wrong.

#chainsaw man #csm 167

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grandmother-goblin · 3 days

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Apotheosis - Chapter 3

Ao3 - Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Zilvira wakes up confused and disoriented in an unfamiliar bed in Sharess' Caress. Her memories are fuzzy, and she still doesn't want to deal with Halsin, but he's the only one there to fill in the gaps of the evening.

Relationships: Halsin x Female!Tav

Rating: Explicit (18+) for eventual smut.

Word Count: 5.4k

Chapter Tags: Mentions of non-consensual drug use, awkward conversations, drow!Tav.

Notes: A big, huge, thank you to @tragedybunny for beta-reading! Also, thank you all for the lovely feedback on the previous chapters, I really appreciate it!

Consciousness came and went like glimpses of sunlight filtering between the dark clouds of a thunderstorm. Bright flashes of awareness, followed by silky shadows that cradled her back to sleep. It happened so many times — Zilvira swore she had opened her eyes only to open them again a few moments later.

Every time the darkness that clouded her thoughts faded away, déjà vu lingered in its wake.

Unfamiliar aches wracked her entire body, heavy and dull. Different than any sort of muscle soreness — icy discomfort pulsed through her veins and settled deep in her bones.

Her eyes burned behind her eyelids as if she had gone a tenday without rest. Her body craved sleep, but something in the back of her mind told her that she needed to wake up.

She needed to wake up and actually stay awake, rather than allow the shadows looming in her periphery to slink back in.

Despite her muddled state of mind, Zilvira knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t in her tent.

The pillow beneath her head wasn’t quite right. The surface against her aching back was nothing like the softness of her bedroll — cool cotton sheets rather than soft furs and the yarn of the blanket she had knitted herself.

The knitted blanket always smelled a bit like campfire smoke, tobacco, and Halsin’s herbaceous soap from all the nights they had sat with it draped over their shoulders while they warmed themselves by the fire. Though it felt weird to admit it even to herself, she liked that the blanket smelled like him — it reminded her of the night they watched bats flit across a blackened sky and he had wrapped his arm around her for the first time.

Gods, she needed to get him out of her head.

Even though she knew she wasn’t in her tent, she swore she could still smell Halsin’s tobacco. Though it was likely just her own imagination, the scent was still comforting.

Muffled chatter and the sounds of dozens of footsteps below told her that she was still in the brothel. The song the tiefling had been dancing to on stage played, making it difficult for Zilvira to tell how much time had passed.

She didn’t remember laying down, but she also didn’t remember leaving. Or taking the long walk back to camp. Though she had never blacked out from drinking, she assumed that she would have remembered something about leaving Wyrm’s Crossing and returning to Rivington.

Wouldn’t she?

Yet, her head felt fine — no signs of a hangover — so perhaps she hadn’t gotten as drunk as she thought.

She breathed in deeply, turning her focus on how the cool air flowed in through her nose, filled her lungs, and passed through her lips. In and out. Over and over until she felt she was no longer at risk for passing out again.

Blinking, her eyes quickly adjusted to an unfamiliar room bathed in the dim, orange, glow of lamplight. With a groggy groan, she tried to shift herself into a seated position, wincing with the effort.

“Easy, now,” a warm voice said from her left, and her heart nearly lept into her throat.

It took a moment, but her sluggish brain eventually registered the deep, thankfully familiar, voice: Halsin.

Of course it was Halsin. Why wouldn’t it be?

Just her luck. The one man she was trying to avoid, and he just happened to show up.

Halsin placed his hand on her lower back to steady her, helping her sit upright. “You’re safe,” he said gently, like soothing a wounded animal. “I’m still here.”

Still?

When she had gone to Sharess Caress, the only people who knew her whereabouts were Karlach and Wyll. In fact, she very intentionally made sure that Halsin wasn’t even in earshot when she told them where she was going because she had wanted to be alone.

One of them betrayed her, and when she found out who… she was going to drag their sorry ass to sunrise yoga after their next night watch. And she would not go easy on them.

Knowing Halsin the way she did, she knew he was probably itching for the opportunity to speak with her in private after the way she had avoided him. She knew he’d prefer to address problems head on rather than let the stew and ambiguity.

Normally, Zilvira would agree with that approach. She didn’t want things to fester but she still didn’t feel ready to face him.

She wasn’t ready to admit that she had fallen for him. Nor was she ready to deal with the embarrassment of his impending rejection. After she had been so certain the feeling between them was mutual, and only more pressing matters like the Shadow Curse stood in their way, she wanted to pretend just a little bit longer that it was possible he would accept her feelings.

Denial would only delay the inevitable, but it was far more comfortable than facing reality.

Nevertheless, she had no idea why Halsin was even here. The only place he should be is at camp with the others — not at a brothel. And certainly not alone with her with no distractions between them.

Halsin’s hand withdrew from the small of her back, settling atop the edge of the mattress as he crouched at her bedside. “How are you feeling?” he asked, his brow creased in concern over his soft hazel eyes.

When he looked at her like that, she wanted to tell him everything. So many times she had gotten lost in his eyes — how in the Hells was she supposed to get over him when he looked at her like that? Like she was someone that he cherished and adored and worried over?

Bitterly, she reminded herself she was simply reading into something that wasn’t there. She wasn’t special. He probably looked at everyone the way he looked at her, and her rose tinted glasses had blinded her to that crushing fact.

Zilvira rubbed her eyes. “Tired.”

“Just tired?”

She nodded.

A low hum rumbled in his chest as he seemed to consider her response, no doubt detecting that she was lying. “Are you able to recall what happened tonight?”

“Most of it, I think,” she replied, hoping he wouldn’t ask her to go into any details.

What was she supposed to tell him? That she remembered drinking wine and wallowing in self-pity while a topless tiefling danced on stage? Or that a handsome stranger in a Flaming Fist uniform decided that he wanted to try to chat her up?

No, Halsin didn’t need to know any of that.

Gods, she didn’t want to deal with being around Halsin right now. Not when she could barely form a coherent thought. If she wasn’t careful, she’d toss decorum out the window and spill all of her feelings toward him.

Or crying like a brokenhearted teenager.

Neither of them deserved that.

Halsin didn’t like her the way she liked him, and she needed to get over her feelings as quickly as possible.

The sooner she did that, the sooner the two of them could have a normal, professional, relationship.

After all, the only thing Halsin had promised was to help her with the parasite. Nothing more. She just had to change her way of thinking of him. How hard could it be to force herself to think of him as just a druid, or a healer, or a traveling companion instead of…. Halsin, the man she was almost certainly in love with.

She was so screwed.

Halsin’s expectant gaze weighed heavily on her, and Zilvira shook her head. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she said, hoping he would let the topic drop. “When did you get here?”

“About two hours ago. While you were having a conversation with that young man in the Flaming Fist uniform.”

Of course he saw that.

Heat rose to Zilvira’s cheeks. She drew her knees to her chest, as if trying to make herself smaller. “His name was Jack,” she replied simply. “He was telling me a bit about the city, that’s all.”

Sure, he was probably trying to get her into bed, but she didn’t need to mention that to Halsin. She knew before Jack even sat down at her table that nothing would come of their conversation, no matter how charming she found him. Her heart was still raw, and a bit of friendly conversation was all she really wanted.

Yet… she remembered Jack wrapping his arm around her… and offering to take her to his room.

And… had she agreed?

Oh gods, she had agreed to go with him, hadn’t she?

What in the Hells had she been thinking, going off alone with a complete stranger in an unfamiliar city?

Zilvira pressed the heels of her palms against her eyes and tried to dig into her own memory, but she saw nothing but pockets of blackness and flashes of blurry faces.

She remembered hands on her, but she couldn’t remember who they belonged to. Had there been more than one person?

Voices echoed in the recesses of her mind, but that was all they were: echoes. Echoes with no distinction or source she could determine.

Maybe she had hit her head. Or maybe the Emperor or the tadpole had done something to mess with her mind — to erase her memories.

‘I did no such thing,’ the Emperor indignantly supplied the moment the thought crossed her mind.

Zilvira internally groaned.

She must have drank too much and blacked out. That was the only thing that made even a little sense, even if she didn’t feel all that intoxicated at the moment.

Gods, she probably made an ass of herself.

If she ever saw Jack again, she would have to apologize profusely for having been in such an intoxicated state. Perhaps once they got into the city, she could at least thank him for putting up with her.

A floorboard creaked as Halsin shifted his weight, breaking her train of thought. “Did Jack get you a drink?”

She shook her head.

No. She definitely remembered turning down the drink.

Halsin hummed in consideration, watching her face carefully as if he expected her expression to reveal some secret. “Do you remember me wildshaping?”

Zilvira shook her head again and swallowed dryly, unsure of how else to respond. That was something she would have remembered, wasn’t it? So why didn’t she?

What in the Hells happened to her?

With a heavy sigh, Halsin turned his head and cast his gaze downward. She had thought that he would be disappointed in her but instead he looked almost angry. Angry in the quiet way, as if he were trying his best to restrain it.

Her stomach sank when she noticed the discoloration, broken skin, and dried blood on Halsin’s jaw caught her eye. It was dark and swollen — very recent. How had she missed it?

Part of her wanted to reach out and at least brush his hair away from where blood had glued it to his cheek, but she swallowed the instinct. “What happened to your face?” she asked quietly.

A look of mild surprise crossed his face and he gingerly brought his fingers to his lower jaw, almost as if he didn’t know anything was there. Or he had forgotten.

Golden healing magic glowed around his hand as he traced along his jaw, and the swelling began to diminish in an instant. “In short,” Halsin said, “Jack threw a punch when I offered to walk you home.”

“What? Why?” Zilvira sat up straighter and immediately felt a bit dizzy. “But — that doesn’t make sense. Why would he…?”

A deep frown pulled at his lips as the magic around his fingers shimmered away. After the briefest hesitation, he rested his hand on top of hers as his eyes grew as serious as she had ever seen them. “Zilvira, listen to me,” he said. “Jack drugged you with a heavy dose of a sedative known as Shar’s Oblivion. If I hadn’t intervened when I did, there was a very good chance I — we — could have lost you tonight.”

A lump formed in her throat and cold sweat gathered at the base of her skull. A high-pitched ringing from within her ears drowned out all sound as she took in the implications of Halsin’s words.

No. That wasn’t right.

Jack had been so sweet and friendly. He had reminded her of an excited puppy: playful and charming and eager. Not the kind of person who would do such a thing. Certainly not some sort of criminal.

Hells, he was a member of the Flaming Fist too. They were supposed to protect people from criminals, not —

One look at Halsin’s face chased away the denial that had tried to find purchase in her mind.

Her heart sank.

What Halsin had said made sense.

It made a hell of more sense than her getting black-out, clumsy drunk after just two glasses of wine.

He must have done it when he bumped into her table — that was the only opportunity he had that she could think of. Unless, somehow, he had spiked her drink before it ever got to her. Then she remembered how his palm covered the mouth of her goblet when he returned it to the table. It only looked like he was trying to be careful, but now…

Zilvira swallowed down the taste of bile that wasn’t there a few seconds ago. “What happened?” she asked tightly and hugged her legs to her chest. “What don’t I remember?”

Another heavy sigh. “Between me and Nym, we chased him off before Jack could do anything else. Sorn and I brought you here so I could heal you and let you get some rest. We can stay here as long as you need.”

Though she knew deep in her heart she ought to believe him, part of her didn’t want to.

She didn't want to believe any of it.

Everything about the situation felt wrong.

It felt wrong that she couldn’t remember parts of the night. It felt wrong that a handsome, charismatic, and friendly man like Jack would put something in her drink.

And it felt wrong that Halsin just happened to be there to save her.

‘While I understand your reluctance to believe Halsin,’ the Emperor interjected once more, sensing her uncertainty, ‘I can detect no lies. He has always had your best interest.’

Though Zilvira wasn’t sure why the Illithid was being so chatty, that little bit of reassurance helped to calm her tumultuous thoughts. The Emperor was right — as much as she didn’t want to believe what she was hearing, Halsin had no reason to lie.

Though part of her suspected he wasn’t telling the whole truth.

“Was there anything else that happened?” she asked, staring at a dim lantern across the room so she didn’t have to look at him.

The dampened sounds of taproom patrons below barely reached her ears as a grandfather clock tucked into the corner of the room counted the seconds. A wave of dizziness passed over her and she closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing once again.

The mattress dipped slightly near her feet as Halsin took a seat at the end of the bed. “Nothing of consequence,” he replied. “You fell asleep shortly after I healed you. Except for Nym stopping in to drop off some food, everything has been quiet. Well, as quiet as it can be for a city like this.”

He said the last part with a bit of a laugh, like he was hoping to cut through the tension that enveloped them like a cloud of thick and suffocating smoke.

Unsaid words hung between them; indecipherable and taunting. He was hesitating too much, and picking his words too carefully.

Halsin was hiding something, but Zilvira forced herself to push her curiosity aside.

What did it matter anyway?

He didn’t owe her any more explanation than he had already given. Maybe a few days ago she would have pushed for more, but she reminded herself of the new boundaries she put between them. She would treat Halsin as a professional, a healer and a druid and an ally. In that regard, he had done his job.

Whatever he didn’t say probably didn’t matter enough for him to waste his breath. It wasn’t like he could provide her with every excruciating detail of the evening.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Zilvira carefully set her feet on the floor. Her toes were a little numb, which was likely a side effect of the drug, but not so numb that it felt unsafe to walk. “We should get back to camp before the others start to worry.”

“Zilvira, wait.” His fingertips brushed over the back of her hand before she could fully stand.

When she looked at him, his eyes were already on hers. Intense and full of something like longing. He opened his mouth, then pursed his lips and turned his focus to where their hands touched.

He withdrew.

“You should eat something and have some water before we go,” he said and nodded towards a small basket on the end table. “I already packed away the cheese since I know you don’t eat it, but everything else should be to your liking. I double checked with Nym about the ingredients.”

Normally, the fact that someone cared at all about her food preferences would have made her smile, but instead it just caused an ache in her chest.

Why did he have to be so sweet and considerate and caring? Why did he have to be so damn nice to her?

Why did she have to be so smitten with someone who would never want her back?

With a sigh, Zilvira retrieved a piece of bread and a handful of grapes from the basket. “Thank you,” she said, feeling a little defeated and struggling not to drown in all of the emotions she didn’t want to think about. “That was very thoughtful.”

“Anything for you,” he said with a gentle smile that brought butterflies to her stomach, but she quickly swatted them away.

Gods, he was going to make it impossible to get over him.

Quickly, she ate the grapes and took a single bite of the bread. She dusted her hands of crumbs as she finished chewing and said, “We should get going.”

Halsin stood when she took a step away from the bed, his palms open as if ready to catch her at any moment. “I know you’re eager to leave, but I don’t think it’s wise to rush out of here. You just woke up. Take a moment.”

“I feel fine,” she lied and took a few unsteady, shuffling steps.

He made a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a groan. “At least take my arm,” he said as he offered it like it was the most natural thing to do. “Please. I don’t want you getting hurt.”

Goddamn him.

Despite her earlier confidence in her ability to walk, she recognized she was unstable. It wouldn’t take much for her to trip over an uneven floor plank or down a set of stairs.

Reluctantly, she wrapped her hand around his forearm and tried to ignore the way his muscles tensed under her touch and how his skin felt against her palm.

Halsin covered her hand with his as if he were afraid she would slip away. “Thank you.”

As she let him guide her out of the room, she repeated the same thoughts in her mind like a mantra.

Halsin was just being nice. Halsin was taking care of her the same way he would take care of anyone else. Halsin was just helping her because he made a promise.

And Halsin did not care for her the way she cared for him.

—

Thankfully, their departure from Sharess’ Caress was a quiet one. On their way out, Mamzell Amira offered them another discount on a night with the drow twins as an apology for their less-than-ideal experience. When Zilvira tensed at the offer, seemingly at a momentary loss for words, Halsin politely refused on her behalf.

Zilvira was the sort to greet most situations with a bright smile and a friendly demeanor, no matter how awkward or uncomfortable. Given her nature, lack of response was uncharacteristic. But considering what she had just gone through, it wasn’t a surprise she was a bit out of sorts. Her mind was likely still all over the place, and the Mamzell’s offer was ill-considered, to say the least.

The main stretch of Wyrm’s Crossing was far less crowded than it was a few hours ago. Halsin counted three food carts that were still open, each one with a respectable number of customers waiting in line or chatting over their supper. One of the carts had a small lantern illuminating a menu board that advertised fried pastries with a savory vegetable filling that Halsin thought Zilvira might enjoy. After all, she had mentioned to him several times that she was excited to try any new foods that Baldur’s Gate had to offer.

With the remnants of alcohol and Ilmater’s Mercy still in her system, Halsin wanted her to have a little more to eat to ward off any future discomfort. Although it wasn’t much, he also hoped that perhaps it might help her feel a bit better mentally speaking.

But when he pointed out the sign to her, Zilvira simply shook her head. Instead, she stared down the street like she wanted to be anywhere but next to him.

Halsin’s heart sank like she had added another tiny pebble to weigh it down after the dozens she had already added over the last few days.

The Zilvira that Halsin knew would have dragged him over to the vendor, excited to try something new and to share it with him. He could picture her tearing one of those pastries in two and handing him the bigger piece. If they both liked them, she would have gone back to the vendor to get some for the rest of the camp.

Even though she liked to share such things with all of their companions, Halsin did not fail to notice that she always had preferred to share with him first — whether it was a bite of food, a cup of tea, a lovely view, a beautiful bird, or just a conversation.

He missed those moments.

He missed her.

As they walked past the cart, Halsin leaned down and quietly said,“I still think you should eat something. Something more than three grapes and a bite of bread.”

Zilvira quickly looked away from the steaming pastries. “I’m fine,” she said and readjusted her grip on his arm.

She had tried a few times on their way out of Sharess’ Caress to walk unaided, keeping her hand hovering above his arm for a few steps, testing her limits a few seconds at a time. Each time she stumbled or swerved, she would sigh and take his arm again.

“The line’s long, and I don’t want to bother you any longer than necessary,” she mumbled.

Halsin was tempted to point out that there were only two people in line, but he decided it wasn’t worth pressing the issue. She was just trying to make excuses to spend as little time around him as possible, and they both knew it.

Withholding a beleaguered sigh, he briefly covered her hand with his and said, “You’ve never been a bother. Not to me, in any case.”

Zilvira only gave a low ‘hmm’ in response, saying exactly what she thought without a single word: she didn’t believe him.

She didn’t believe him, and it felt like she added yet another pebble to the weight on his heart.

In all of their time together, Halsin didn’t think he had given her any reason not to trust him. He had always been straightforward with her from the moment she had rescued him from that wretched cell in the goblin camp. He had thought she knew that, but now he wasn’t so sure.

Her sleepy, slurred, words from earlier echoed in the back of his mind.

“I wish I could have you.”

“You won’t have me. You don’t want me. Not the way I want you.”

Even if she said those words under the influence of Ilmater’s Mercy, even if Halsin knew better than to take those words at face value, he couldn’t help but wonder if she truly believed that.

If she did… her strange behavior made a lot more sense.

But what in the Hells could have made her so convinced that the feeling wasn’t mutual? If the feeling wasn’t mutual, he never would have led her on by flirting with her the way he had. He wouldn’t have spent the time and energy if he had no intention of pursuing her. He would have maintained a healthy professionalism with her, nothing more.

Yet, with the way she was acting, he couldn’t help but wonder if someone had planted a seed of doubt in her ear and watered it with false words. Whether well-intentioned or malicious, the end result was the same — it seemed like she felt betrayed.

If he were to put himself in her shoes, if Zilvira had flirted with him just for the fun of it and didn’t mean a single word, he would have felt the same way.

Zilvira’s hand lifted from his arm, once again experimenting with whether or not she could walk without his support, like she was desperate to put some space between them, although she still needed help. Less than a tenday ago, she would loop her arm around his for no reason at all. She would smile up at him and strike up a conversation about anything at all. Or sometimes she would gently tug him down to her level so she could whisper harmless gossip in his ear.

At the present, she just gave a defeated huff of air through her nose and stared resolutely ahead like he was walking her to her execution.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

Halsin clasped his hand gently over hers so she wouldn’t slip away. “Come here for a moment,” he said, and didn’t wait for an answer as he guided toward an empty alcove between two buildings.

Zilvira’s spine stiffened even as she let him lead her. “Where are we going?” she asked, a small spark of surprise in her voice that he much preferred over her prior docility. “I thought we were going back to camp.”

“We are,” he said as he spotted a stack of crates that might afford them a modicum of privacy and a place for Zilvira to sit. “But first, I need to speak with you.”

“And we can’t do that while we’re walking?”

Quickly dusting off one of the wooden crates, Halsin carefully helped her take a seat. He kneeled before her, his face level with hers. “I need to be able to look you in the eyes while we talk,” he said and placed his hands on either side of the crate, loosely caging her in. “You’ve been acting strange and I need to know what’s wrong.”

She blinked at him. “I got drugged by a stranger and I can’t remember some of the past few hours of my life,” she replied flatly as if he had said something incredibly stupid. “Of course I’m not acting like myself.”

If Halsin had any indication that that was all there was to it, he wouldn’t press the issue. After all, it wasn’t the ideal moment to have such a conversation, but Halsin didn’t want to let things fester between them a moment longer. If there was a chance at all to clear the air sooner rather than later, he wanted to take it.

If she refused to speak with him now, which was well within her right considering the events of the evening. Then, he supposed, both of them would just have a long, awkward walk back to camp.

Maybe it was a little selfish of him, but he needed to at least try. For his own sanity.

“I think you know that wasn’t what I was referring to,” he said, keeping his tone level as he tried to look into her eyes despite how she stubbornly looked away. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been treating me differently these past few days. I can’t help but feel like I did something wrong, or I did something to hurt you. I don’t know what that something is, and I won’t know until you tell me. Whatever it is, I want to make things right.”

It wasn’t so much as a want as it was a need, if he was completely honest. It had been centuries since he had cared for someone the way he cared for Zilvira. Since he had such an ally and confidant.

A friend.

A true friend that he felt like he could be himself with — no mask required.

Zilvira pursed her lips. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she replied with a shake of her head. “I just needed some time away to… sort out how I felt about things.”

“And one of those things is me, I take it?”

Her mouth drew into a thin line as her eyes followed a small spider making its web between two crates that were stacked beside her.

She watched as the spider pulled silk in a full loop around its web, and said nothing.

Very well. Perhaps if he wanted to get anywhere with her, then he would have to open up first.

He only hoped he would not somehow make things worse.

His heartbeat quickened in his chest and he swallowed dryly. “A few days ago, I would have thought you were fond of me — more than fond of me. Just as I am quite fond of you.”

Her chest rose with a small, sharp intake of air and her red eyes, almost a deep amaranthine beneath the light of the moon, finally flickered toward him.

“Now… I don’t know what to think,” he admitted. “Before you seemed to want nothing more than to be by my side, to share tea and conversation and the warmth of the fire together. Now, it seems you want nothing to do with me at all. I don’t know what went wrong, but I would like to try to make it right, if I can.”

Wrapping her arms around herself, as she averted her eyes once again. “I realized my behavior toward you may have been inappropriate or unwanted,” she replied with a small crack in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

“If your behavior was either of those things, I would have told you so.”

“Then why didn’t you?” she asked as a tear rolled down her cheek. “This whole time, I thought you would have said something but then you didn’t and — now I feel like an idiot.”

A frown pulled at Halsin’s lips as his brow drew together. “With all due respect, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I overheard your conversation with Shadowheart about your time in the Underdark, And I heard what you said about me and — you called me cruel.”

The wrinkle between his brow deepened along with his confusion.

Called her cruel? The only creatures that might have thought she had an ounce of cruelty in her were the foes they had faced. Even then, she was quick and efficient in combat, and only killed when she had no other choice.

She didn’t enjoy it, nor did she seek it out. In fact, she actively avoided any sort of violent confrontation whenever possible. She showed sympathy, grace and mercy when most people wouldn’t have.

Sometimes, even when he wouldn’t have.

Halsin shook his head. “I have never called you cruel, Zilvira.”

“You implied it,” she sniffed. “You said cruelty was in a drow’s nature, and when Shadowheart asked if I was included in that statement, you said ‘she’s a drow, is she not?’”

The moment she said those words, his throat tightened. His stomach sank.

Hells. He knew exactly what she was referring to.

“Please tell me I misheard you and I was being a bitch for no reason,” she said with a half-hearted laugh, as if she felt the tension creeping out from every fiber of his being and was trying to ease it.

That time, Halsin was the one to look away. “No,” he said with a heavy sigh, “you didn’t mishear me.”

---

Beginning

Previous Chapter

#halsin #halsin x tav #halsin x female tav #halsin smut #halsin fanfic #halsin silverbough #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #drow tav

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pokegalla · 2 days

Text

I’ll be honest i haven’t done this in awhile but i hope you enjoy!

Requested by @neko-rose888

Skellies with an S/o kinda like Rapunzel!

Ink:

* At first he actually joked about you reminding him of Rapunzel. With the aloof personality, long hair, that glows when you…sing- wait a damn minute-

* Watch out for ink spewing out his mouth. He’d be so excited seeing such an incredible power. Can he touch your hair? Would it affect skeletons? Are you ACTUALLY Rapunzel-?! Aaand there he goes hurling again- And you being awkward but still kind self, you help him clean up, chuckling at his excitement. Kinda hard to ignore how adorable this little artist is.

* Soon you two end up hanging out a lot just to do a LOT of painting. And stars Ink LOVES your work. If this guy isn’t the reason you leave your tower, I call bullshit right now because he is FILLED with adventures of his own!

* Wouldn’t be surprised if he takes you with him to start your own adventure….with him by your side.

Dream:

* He wasn’t surprised that you had powers. He could…just sense it. He just didn’t know how it worked. He simply thought it was a beautiful power of yours.

* Though despite your abilities, he wants to make sure you will never be forced or ever feel obligated to use your abilities. Especially considering your past. It’s your ability and it’s your choice to use it. But he WOULD feel proud if you use it for healing others. And even feel more special if you heal him too. You fretting over him is so sweet.

* He loves to show you around new places just to see you smile, your positivity shining both in and out. Like a literal sun…it’s so warm and nice to be around. He ends up teaching you how to make flower crowns on a walk in the forest. It was worth seeing your smile beam.

* Literally just two beans with a dash of trauma- you both find peace within each other✨

Blue:

* He probably bumped into you by accident and didn’t realize you were the princess….and when he did, he apologized PROFUSELY- he’s a KNIGHT in training for damn sake and he’s already being a klutz? TO THE PRINCESS OF ALL PEOPLE-

* Luckily for him you don’t find it to be a big deal and quickly tell him it’s fine. You both excitedly introduce yourselves and soon you two become a fun energetic duo.

* Taking you on horse rides, treating you like a lady, you teaching him how to cake (so he doesn’t explode the kitchen again-), and teaching you how to defend yourself. Frying pan wasn’t a weapon he expected but respectfully cool as you show off its power✨

* He vows to be your loyal knight and will always protect you no matter what!

Nightmare:

* He’s definitely heard about you because of your ability and studied about the wither and decay spell? Now THAT can be a very useful weapon! So he sends his team to get you! ….which was easier said than done.

* He knew his idiots were…well stupid but it’s just ONE girl. It can’t be THAT hard. So he goes himself….and finds himself tangled up in your hair, almost getting whacked by a frying pan. He turned into a puddle to escape both your trap and frying pan skills before picking you up with a tendril and taking you away, complaining about the hair you left on him (even though he left goop ALL over your hair- 😑)

* After that you pretty much became swift friends with his team as you hang out with them, heal them, bake cookies, and your bright smile makes them happy. That positivity annoyed Nightmare so much. But…whenever you bring him a black coffee and give him that same bright smile….he can’t help the feeling of warmth deep inside his own soul.

* He may be cold at times but you’re definitely safe around him. Would give you princess treatment….even if he’ll never admit it.

Outer:

* Might be a bit of a unique meeting but I bet you two met under a starry night sky, looking up at the stars together before he starts up a chat with you. Probably a little space pun that goes right over your head making him laugh instead-

* He was pretty chill about your hair although a little surprised at first. He liked showing you his abilities too. It was funny seeing your ecstatic reaction. But he was interested when you one day mentioned the lanterns from your home. He’s never tried something like that before….

* So hell YES you take him to the lantern thing! You even got lanterns for just the two of you to float together. He was in awe seeing your lanterns twirling together to join the VAST other lanterns mixing in with the starry sky. It was…like the city had come to life….and you being here with him made it all the more special.

* That day you gave him a painting you made of the moment just for him to take home. He still has it in his room, on the wall presented proudly✨

Reaper:

* He only visited because there was some odd decay in the area….and he witnessed your wither and decay ability. Definitely….surprising. Hell it was like his death touch. He was the one to snap you out of the trance thankfully. You go to hug him to thank him much to his scare- but….you didn’t die? Huh? But you ARE human so how-? He chuckled though once you realized you’ve literally hugged death-💦

* He took you with him to study up together about how this came to be and it seems the flower you’ve consumed is more powerful then you expected. Even saved you from his own death touch. Fancy that. He ended up sticking around out of pure curiosity. Plus….its rare to have someone he’s able to be around without needing to be cautious…

* Buuut wow you were accident AND trouble prone- seriously how have you SURVIVED this long in life?! Got the poor guy stressed with how much you got him watching over you- but you make it worth it….you always give him headpats and promise him cuddles and cookies. Can he really stay this upset seeing that cute face?✨

* He went from god of death to a sweet loving guardian angel. You simply just had that effect on him!

#my writing #undertale au #funny #cute #undertale au headcanons #undertale au x reader #sans au x reader #ink sans #reaper sans #dream sans #nightmare sans #blue sans #underswap sans #outertale sans #request answered #can be seen as platonic or romantic

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moonstrider9904 · 2 days

Text

Pretty Thoughts

Part 3 of the Urban Flora mini series

Part 1 | Part 2 | Cross-posted to AO3 | Series Masterlist

Summary: You awaken to two truths - you are unmistakably in love with Crosshair, and you are both the main story on a popular gossip blog. Although this screams destruction for your reputation, what if it's a blessing in disguise?

Tags: Smut (18+ only), alcohol consumption, gossip, confrontation, female masturbation, vaginal sex, oral sex, creampie

Word count: 5.7k

Playlist: Pretty Thoughts by Alina Baraz

A/N: I've had the most fun writing and posting this series! Thank you to everyone who's read, commented, and shared! You are all the best. I hope you like the ending to this mini-series!

The nearly incessant beeping from your holopad woke you up after a night of heavy sleep. You were in that stage between your dreams and consciousness where you were just starting to make sense of things, and you reached to your nightstand for your holopad as you let out a groggy groan. When you unlocked it, your eyes widened at the screen, disregarding its glow on your pupils.

You had over 200 notifications among your messages and socials, and you quickly decided that couldn't be good.

You sat up on your bed and turned on your lamp - the sun was just beginning to rise outside, and the blinds in your bedroom blocked most of whatever light could come in anyways. You crossed your legs and held your holopad in front, and you opted to check your direct messages from any friends. First, you checked the messages from your closest friend, Pen, whom you rarely saw, but you could always confide in, and your heart nearly leapt from your chest when you saw the picture of Crosshair wearing the outfit he had on the day before, looking at the camera with a hint of confusion, but still composed and handsome as he normally was, and you recognized the area he was standing in as the street just outside the motel you had visited the day before.

Below the image, Pen's text read: Daaayum! Are all clones this fine? Why didn't you tell me you were seeing someone?

You closed out of her conversation and went onto your ongoing conversation with a different friend, Eloise, the daughter of the Senator from Corellia: Heads up, you and your mystery man made it to Scandal Gal.

Below, she had attached the full screenshot of the blog post, and below Crosshair’s picture, you read the caption:

Wakey wakey, high society: Sweetie's mystery man appears to be a silver fox dream. My sources say he was spotted entering a hotel with Sweetie and then leaving it, with our damsel of the moment seen leaving earlier than him, apparently glowing. While we may be left to fantasize about the happenings within the motel's walls, what I'm more interested to know is if this handsome young soldier is willing to introduce any of his brothers to us poor, starving gals. Consider me first in line.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you did what you knew you shouldn't have done and went over to Scandal Gal's blog and read the comments, though to your surprise, none of the comments were dragging you. You'd half expected to be called a slut by every commenter, but most of the thirsty girls in the blog were fawning at how handsome Crosshair was. You didn't particularly like a horde of girls digitally cat-calling your man, but you preferred that over a ruined reputation.

Overnight, you had become a phenomenon. What started as a picture with a few comments speculating about your encounter at the opera was now a full-fledged story that easily hundreds of people around the east side of Coruscant were following. You read multiple comments talking wonders about Crosshair, others talking wonders about you, very many admiring your relationship and how attractive you both looked together—and a few comments here and there dragging you and/or Crosshair, as expected, but overall, you and Crosshair had taken over the holonet for all the right reasons.

You wanted to laugh, but a part of it freaked you out as well. You’d never made a high profile of yourself. You’d always enjoyed your spoils in life in as private a way as possible, and the few times you’d actually made it to Scandal Gal had been because a dress you wore somewhere was beautiful, not because of your love life.

And only then, it hit you—did Crosshair know about this? And if he did, how would he take it?

Catastrophizing wouldn’t get you anywhere. You got up from your bed and put on your bathrobe, which rested on the armrest of the cozy chair next to your bed. You opened the blinds of your bedroom and took a moment to admire the Coruscant skyline with the sun making its way up the sky, dancing with a few clouds against the light blue hue. You exited your bedroom and headed past your living room with your holopad in hand, towards the kitchen to brew your coffee. As the coffee brewed, you opened the blinds to the rest of your apartment and basked in the morning peace far away from any whispers of scandal that lived in your holopad. You figured that was the bright side of it all—whether it was good talk or bad talk, it only lived in your holopad, and it wasn’t going to make its way into your calm morning.

The calm was interrupted when the door to your apartment flew open, and your mother seemed to glide inside, letting the door close behind her. Her eyes scanned the apartment until they found you, and you couldn’t decide if she was angry at you or not. At the sight of you, your mother sighed—even in her apparent disappointment, which you wouldn’t pretend not to know the cause of, your mother had a regal stance worthy of the senator of Coruscant, with her dark beige suit and her expertly done hair; even her floral scent that commanded respect.

You tried to be as nonchalant as possible, gesturing at the coffee brewer with your hand and raising your eyebrows. Your mother sighed again and shook her head, and instead, she gestured with her chin at the holopad that rested on your counter.

“Have you opened that thing this morning?” She asked you.

“Yes,” you uttered.

“Darling, what were you thinking?” Your mother now seemed more worried than angry at you. “Do you at least know this man well enough?”

“Well enough to know I’m head over heels for him,” you admitted.

“And then there’s that ridiculous gossip site,” your mom continued. “I tell myself it’s no big deal, just a little source of entertainment for spoiled rich teens with nothing better to do, but I can’t fathom the fact that now they’re picking on you. I’m too nervous to read any of the posts or the comments thinking about all the horribly unkind things everyone’s sharing about you… people can be so cruel.”

You sighed. “I know, but, Mom… as far as I’ve checked, the things Scandal Gal and the readers are saying aren’t that bad…”

“Meaning?” She inquired.

You couldn’t help but chuckle. “They love him. They’re saying he’s devastatingly handsome and fawning over him, some of them even want to go stand outside the clone bar to see if they can get boyfriends.”

“But what are they saying about you?” She asked.

“I’m a hero. They like my dress, the scarf I wore, and the man I’m with. I think there’s an ongoing wager as to whether or not I’ll marry him,” you delivered blankly.

Your mother’s eyes widened, and you held in your laughter at her reaction.

“Mom, relax,” you said. “I’m not saying I will. But I do really like him. And all things considered, I expected mayhem, and even if there are a few mean things here and there, they don’t compare to how good most of the responses are.”

“That’s rare,” your mother admitted. “And I suppose you’re right, you can’t control what everyone says.”

“And I won’t try to,” you agreed. “I’m just saying it could be a lot worse and if it’s not as bad as I thought it could be, I’m gonna embrace it.”

For a split second, your mother looked at you in plain disbelief. Regardless, she sighed, straightened her back, and gathered herself, and she met your gaze again with understanding.

“Alright, now tell me, who is this man?” She asked.

“He’s the sniper who took out the assassin who tried to kill the Chancellor,” you said as you poured your cup of coffee.

Your mom raised her eyebrows. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows too, pouring another cup for your mother.

“I met him at the start of the opera,” she explained. “I even invited him to our box, but he said he already had one, he didn’t want to refuse it and seem rude.”

“Yeah, he was invited because of his efforts,” you said. “In fact, I… I met him during the final intermission at the opera. We got to talking and he’s just… fascinating.”

Those were all the details you’d give to your mother about that night.

Your mother’s demeanor seemed to soften as she drank from the coffee you’d given her. With a soft exhale, she set the cup down on the counter and pressed her hands together in front of her chest, avoiding your gaze for a few moments.

“Sweetie, I don’t want you to think I’m exploiting your relationship with this man,” she began.

You tilted your head. That was one of the last things you’d expected her to say.

She then met your gaze. “But this is actually a very good look.”

“What, for you?” You asked.

Your mother chuckled. “I have spent months collaborating with Senator Chuchi to pass a clone rights bill. When your… boyfriend…”

You chuckled. “Crosshair.”

She nodded slowly. “Right. When Crosshair saved the Chancellor’s life, we got a lot more support, but we’re not quite there yet. Too many people view the clones as vessels bred for combat, not as actual human beings with human emotions and human needs. And, as triumphant as Crosshair was in saving the Chancellor, his effort was still that of a soldier, hence why we’re, as I said…”

“Not quite there yet,” you continued. “And… you think that if I’m public with him, so public that people are talking about relationships and gossiping like they do with anyone else in our society, he’ll look more human.”

“And by extension, the rest of the clones,” your mother added. “It just might shift the tide in favor of finally giving them some more rights.”

You smiled softly and took another ship of your coffee. “I love the sound of that. I just don’t know how I feel about scheming regarding Crosshair.”

“Be honest with him, then,” your mother suggested. “If you’re not on board, be as private as you possibly can, I won’t hold it against you. It was just an idea. And now that I think about it…”

You looked up at her again, waiting for what else she had to say.

“We do have that art gala coming up tonight,” she suggested. “Why don’t you invite him?”

You nodded slowly. “I’ll ask him. I wouldn’t mind getting all fancy and seeing him, but for starters, he needs to want to go.”

“He went to the opera, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes, but that was an invitation of honor,” you answered. “And he didn’t seem like a fish out of water, but I can’t help thinking this just isn’t what he’s used to.”

Your mother gazed at you sincerely. “Don’t you cage him into the label of a soldier, too. If you like this man and you want to be with him, you’re going to have to realize he’s more than that.”

You raised both of your brows. You knew she was right, and to have heard that coming from your mother, it meant volumes. You barely ever approached what she did inside the senate, but you pondered on how much her words made sense based on what little she’d shared with you about her efforts with the Pantoran senator. And even if she wasn’t trying to pass a clone rights bill, she was still right—Crosshair was a living, breathing man, and even though you knew he was a soldier, you hadn’t met him as such. You’d seen him at a high society gathering over drinks. You’d shared coffee and bantered with him, kissed him under the rain, made love to him time and time again until you couldn’t get him out of your thoughts.

As soon as your mother left, you reached for your holopad and ignored the multiple notifications you had, heading straight for Crosshair’s frequency number and typing out your message at least three times before sending it, trying to find the most chill way to invite him to the art gala. You sent the message and waited for the reply, frantically scurrying to your holopad anytime it vibrated. For a while, he didn’t answer, and before you lost hope, you finally saw the notifications coming in from Crosshair.

Can’t resist another little encounter with me, can’t you, Sweetie?

You chuckled, but you felt nervous at the same time. That obviously meant he’d been, in some way, exposed to Scandal Gal too.

How fancy do I have to dress? His next message came in shortly after.

You chuckled at your phone and typed back: Fancy enough to knock everyone dead.

Instantly, Crosshair replied: ’Kay. I’ll be there.

After you texted him all the details of the event, you went about your day with a twinge of excitement sprinkled over your every move. The sun made its way around the sky until it was time for you to get ready for the event, and for this occasion, you chose a dark purple dress paired with long black gloves and no necklace, since you’d be wearing your hair down your shoulders. The dress’s top had a black ribbon outlined in the shape of a triangle, with the base at your waist, and it was filled with discreet black sequins. On the right shoulder, where the dress’s top met your sleeve, you placed a dark gray brooch that your mother had given you on your eighteenth birthday, and looking at yourself in the mirror, you were almost ready to go. You did your makeup and grabbed your purse, and then you went out the door to the nightlife of Coruscant, where your mother was already waiting at the bottom of the building with a vehicle.

Your pulse was racing for the whole ride, knowing you would meet Crosshair there. You clutched your purse with both hands over your pressed thighs, and you could feel beads of sweat forming in your palms, having to take deep breaths from time to time to keep yourself steady. The vehicle finally arrived at the gala and parked just in front of the red carpet you were meant to walk on, and only then it dawned on you that multiple pairs of eyes thirsting for scandal would be on you. But you wouldn’t back out, not now, not when you were the very image of elegance in society about to meet with your Silver Fox Dream, as Scandal Gal had put it.

You resolved to knock them all dead too.

The door on your side of the vehicle was opened by an usher, and you stepped out, straightening your posture and taking in the scenery of flashing cameras and excited partygoers, and confident as you looked, your heartbeat hadn’t calmed down in the slightest. You looked around, scanning for the only person you were interested in seeing.

And soon enough, your eyes landed on him. His attire was possibly better than the one he wore the night of the opera, with a slim fit pitch-black suit and shirt, adorned with a burgundy vest under the coat, and rich red rose in his breast pocket. Crosshair’s watchful eyes gazed back at you, and as you remained still in front of your vehicle while your mother got out, Crosshair made his way to you, letting you behold every detail on him as he got closer to you, and when he was finally right in front of you, you took in all of him.

Crosshair was strikingly debonair, undeniably gorgeous, charming in his pride and confidence. He even smelled incredible. His tall figure seemed to loom protectively over you, complimenting your lack of height when you stood next to him, and you both made such a perfect pair you almost hoped that gossiping teenage girls were in proximity to behold your beauty, perhaps even eat their hearts out as a treat for you.

“Miss,” Crosshair greeted as he took your hand and brought it up to his lips, placing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

His gentle kiss ignited every inch of your skin as you briefly remembered the moments of passion you’d already shared with that man. You gave him a demure smile, taking one step closer to him, wishing with every fiber of your body to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a kiss not unlike the one you’d had under the rain the day before, but perhaps it wasn’t the time or place for such a public display. Moreover, as Crosshair was lowering your hand down from his gesture, your mother exited the vehicle and appeared at your side, smiling at Crosshair.

He acknowledged her and gave her the hint of a smile, taking a slight bow. “Ma’am.”

He held out his hand, offering her the chance to be greeted in a similar way as you, and to your surprise, your mother obliged.

“It’s wonderful to see you again,” your mother said to him. “I didn’t know you’d met my daughter until this morning.”

“She’s a wonderful lady, ma’am,” Crosshair responded without a hint of hesitation or insecurity.

You were in awe at how easily he was getting along with your mother as the two continued to make small conversation, and soon enough, your mom went ahead and entered the building, with you and Crosshair following behind, your arm linked in his. Camera flashes on you weren’t scarce, and in the distance, you could hear high-pitched cries of “There they are!” and “They’re so hot together!”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at yourself.

“Basking in your triumph?” Crosshair broke the silence between you.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“That was a bold move, inviting me here, introducing me to your mother,” he continued, his features holding the sternness they usually did, but you picked up on no disgust on his behalf.

“Yeah, well…” You said. “Overnight, we kind of became public figures, you and me. There’s this gossip site that’s been following me around for a while, nothing major, but when you and I started talking at the opera, we got popular.”

“Ah, Scandal Gal,” Crosshair mused. “Yes, I was approached and stalked by a teen.”

You nearly snorted trying to hold in your laughter. “What?”

“The picture of me that’s on that site was taken by a sixteen-year-old girl,” Crosshair said, smirking. “Somehow, I’m more afraid of gossip-hungry teens than I am of tactical droids.”

You chuckled. “They’re formidable, alright.”

“So… you’re feeding them what they want by bringing me here?” He continued the conversation.

“No, not exactly,” you replied. “That’s a side effect. Because of Scandal Gal, my mom rushed over to my place this morning panicking a little, but I explained to her that… well…”

You and Crosshair had just reached the bar of the opulent salon where the gala was being held, and you both took a seat on your respective stools. Crosshair eyed you with intrigue as you trailed off, prompting you to speak up, and you realized why you’d stopped yourself from saying what you wanted to say.

But this was Crosshair. He was a dream incarnate, and you were already there with him, a striking and attractive couple that commanded everyone’s attention, and you found yourself smiling at him as your pulse rose once more.

“That I… I feel a lot for you,” you said. “That I really like you, Crosshair, and this isn’t a meaningless fling for the sake of shock value to me.”

Crosshair maintained eye contact with you, and his features softened ever so slightly, so discreetly that an untrained eye wouldn’t have been able to notice. He broke eye contact with you to gesture at the bartender and order drinks for both of you, and then he turned back to you, with his lips curving to a smirk.

“Well, well,” he hummed. “How touching.”

It was good that he didn’t appear repulsive at your sentiments, but your poor, racing heart would need a more precise answer. Then, Crosshair’s smirk widened, and he looked down at his knees, letting his inner softness glow through if only for a moment.

“It’s not meaningless for me either,” he replied.

You smiled brightly and exhaled the tension from your chest. “Really?”

“Really,” he answered.

“Then… there’s something else you should know,” you said.

And you then explained how your mother wouldn’t use you both, but that you were supporting her cause in the senate, how him being exposed to something other than the front lines would put clones in a more human light, at least to the members of the senate who were still on the fence. You even gave Crosshair the opportunity to back out immediately if he felt like his strings were being pulled, but all the while, Crosshair remained with that serene smile at you, and when you were done talking, Crosshair reached for your hands and held them in his.

“Does this bill mean I’ll get paid more?” He asked.

You laughed openly, and he chuckled in return just as the drinks he’d ordered were placed beside you by the bartender.

“Sweetie,” he said to you. “I don’t care much about the other things. Not Scandal Gal, not the Senate, although that bill sounds decent. I came here to be with you because I can’t get you out of my brain. You’re not what I pictured a high-society woman to be, and… well…”

You smiled softly at him, and now it was your turn to prompt him to speak.

“Now that you’ve introduced me to your mother,” he said, “I hope I get the chance to introduce you to my brothers too.”

Your smile widened. “You’d do that?”

He nodded, smiling softly at you. “You’re a smart girl, you can handle it.”

You laughed and reached for your drink, an Urban Flora cocktail that could have been an exact replica of the one you drank when you first met Crosshair at the opera. You took a sip of it without breaking eye contact with Crosshair, and when you lowered your drink, you raised a brow at him.

“But can you handle the Coruscant high societal scene?” You asked.

Crosshair took a sip of his own drink, the smoky, rich Corellian whisky he loved so much, and he leaned in closer to you, close enough for you to smell the smooth, luscious drink on his breath.

“Try me, Sweetie,” he purred.

You giggled, and you both gently bumped your glasses together, and you went on to continue talking about whatever sparked your interest as you finished your drinks. Crosshair told you about his missions, his brothers, even a couple of anecdotes of when he was a young cadet. In turn, you told him about your days as a schoolgirl, your plans for the future, what you liked to do in your spare time, the planets you longed to visit all over the galaxy. And then, when the glasses were empty and the conversation was fulfilled, you and Crosshair stood up from the bar and went around the room, and you greeted most of your friends and acquaintances as well as introduced Crosshair to all of them. Crosshair was a flying success with everyone, and you couldn’t help but gawk at him just a little. The night wore on as smoothly as velvet, until it was getting late, and you were bound to return home.

You directed a look at Crosshair, a look that was filled with allure, and he reciprocated. Quick goodbyes were said, and soon, you were sitting with Crosshair at the back of your vehicle as the chauffeur flew you home. As you sat together, you were in silence, and though Crosshair was great with words, you’d learned he was far better with his actions, and he reached for the rose on his breast pocket and handed it to you. You smiled at him, slightly flustered, and for the remainder of the ride, you scooched closer to him and leaned your weight on him, eager to arrive at the privacy of your apartment.

You had no intention of waiting. After you and Crosshair had left the vehicle, the moment the elevator doors closed behind you, you were both on each other. Your hands ran all over his back as you both locked lips, hungrily devouring each other in that small space, and you then let your palms rest on his chest. Crosshair took each of your hands and tugged gently at your middle fingertips, enough to hold onto the gloves you wore as you slid your hands down and the delicate fabric came off, exposing your skin. You heard Crosshair shudder softly before he took you into his arms again, kissing you as passionately as before, and you both felt the elevator pulling to a stop.

You gathered yourselves—there was no need to surprise someone waiting for the elevator with a steamy scene—but when you found there was no one there to see you, you and Crosshair held hands as you made your way over to your penthouse, and the moment the door closed behind you both, you were on each other’s lips once more. Your wandering hands removed his coat and his vest, and he found the zipper at the back of your dress. He lowered the zipper, causing the dress’s blouse to fall limply around your silhouette, and you took a step back, wanting him to watch as you wiggled out of the dress and let the fabric fall gracefully on the floor, leaving you to step out of it.

Crosshair eyed you hungrily as you approached him. Your breasts hung freely at your front, and he didn’t miss the hickey he’d left on your ribs the day before. On your hips, there was a pair of lace black panties, but the top prize was easily taken by the stockings that covered you from the middle of your thighs to your toes, which he couldn’t make himself tear his gaze from. You chuckled and took his hands, leading him slowly into your bedroom, and he followed you blissfully until you were at the foot of your bed.

You let go of him and sat back all the way to your headboard. You pressed your legs together and slowly slid your panties away from you, tossing them aside, and you spread your legs to show him, never once breaking eye contact with him. Your gaze was alluring, slightly teasing, and Crosshair watched. He watched as you spread your legs and took your hand to your inner thigh, teasing your skin, until your fingers finally brushed fully over your folds and your clit. You let out a playful gasp, smirking at him and taunting him, and as he watched, Crosshair began to undress. Your smirk widened, and you continued to touch yourself in the way you most liked, delighted by the sight of him losing the clothes that covered him. Your cunt was wet and swollen, pulsating and sensitive, all you needed to do was increase your pace ever so slightly and you’d tip yourself over the edge—as Crosshair crawled onto the mattress, you decided to give him the full show. Making sure his eyes were still on you, you applied more pressure onto your clit and used your three middle fingers to rub, and looking into his eyes, you finally got to enjoy the waves of your orgasm.

You reveled in how hungry Crosshair looked, pleased and aroused by the little show you put on for him. Crosshair couldn’t help but take his hand over to his cock, pumping slowly as he watched you pleasing yourself, until your orgasm faded, and your moans quieted when you removed your hand. You found Crosshair’s gaze and pouted at him, holding your hand in front of you and curling your finger, beckoning him to come to you. With a smirk, Crosshair obliged, and he positioned himself between your legs, planting soft kisses around your inner thighs before brushing his tongue lusciously over your folds. He moaned into your skin, and you whimpered in return, dazed and sensitive after your antics.

As Crosshair continued to please you with his skilled tongue and lips, you suddenly felt his fingers finding yours. You spread your hand before interlacing your fingers with his, holding him as he brought you closer to another release. Your body squirmed harder than it had the first time around, the white-hot ecstasy seeming to explode within every fiber of your body. You didn’t hold back with your moaning, letting his name escape you many a time, enticed by the velvety texture of his tongue contrasting with the raspiness surrounding his jawline.

When Crosshair emerged from between your legs, you tugged on him, prompting him to rest at your eye level. You wanted to feel him close to you, and Crosshair knew what it was you desired. With your legs still spread, you rested back and let him take the lead, feeling as he slowly inserted himself within your tight, warm walls. You both moaned in unison and stared deeply into each other’s eyes as he began his thrusts slowly, luxuriously letting you feel everything. Your lips begged for his, and you perked your face up to kiss him as you felt your body gently bouncing on the mattress in his rhythm. Crosshair’s kisses made you float higher and higher, and drenched in pleasure and ecstasy, you felt like you were in paradise. Crosshair was truly capable of taking you there.

Crosshair paused his kisses on your lips and lifted himself to look at you, his gaze stern and seductive as he increased the snapping of his hips. He grunted as he hammered into you, shuddering and twitching inside you in anticipation, soon unable to contain soft groans and whimpers. Crosshair looked straight into your eyes, flooded by adoration of you, until the pleasure was too much for him to keep his eyes open even as much as he wanted to gaze into you. His eyes shut and the rhythm of his hips became unfathomably fast, and so too, you descended into bliss for the third time that night. You smiled amidst your orgasm, chiming his name in a delicious moan, your hand still securely holding his as he released inside you and fell limp on the mattress beside you afterwards.

You both panted, each your own dazed and flustered mess as you made futile attempts to recover, but as much as you were both unable to do much else, you remained holding each other’s hands. As time passed, you soon felt Crosshair’s thumb brushing delicately up and down your finger, and you watched him with a tender gaze. You felt you’d fall asleep right there, and if you did, you knew you would want for nothing. You knew you’d have nothing to worry about for as long as you were together, and the pain of temporary separations would be worth it if it was Crosshair you would wait for.

And there on your mattress, filled with love, resolve, and exhaustion, you drifted off into sleep.

A gentle sunlight and the song of birds woke you up. You noticed the space beside your bed was empty, and you didn’t waste time getting up and placing your robe over you as you sought out your lover. You walked over to the living room and your attention was drawn to the balcony, where he stood with his back turned on you, shirtless and wearing his pants from the night before, gazing out at the scenery.

You took a moment to admire him and the way his skin appeared golden under the morning sun, contrasting almost artistically with the green plants on your balcony, the blue sky, and the skyline ahead. With soft steps, you approached him and stepped out onto the balcony, and you wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, pressing a soft kiss on his shoulder blade. Crosshair delicately shuffled and brought your figure next to him, draping his arm around you, and you both stood in silence for a few peaceful moments, watching the scenery.

“What are you watching?” You asked him, knowing it was in his nature to observe.

His amber eyes scanned the scenery, and he almost looked humbled. He had the face of an innocent life being beholding the universe ahead of them, realizing how small they truly were in comparison to the greatness of creation itself.

“Out there, as soldiers,” Crosshair began, “it often feels like we fight because it’s all we know. We were made for it. Myself, my brothers, more obviously bred for different purposes, all to serve one war. But aside from why we were created, we never really stop to think what we’re fighting for.”

You looked up at him, watching his features soften in realization as he spoke. Crosshair then angled his body more towards you, and he held you tighter, pressing you to the warmth of his skin, watching you with the most tender gaze you had ever felt on you.

“I won’t forget this next time I’m on the battlefield,” he continued.

“You mean, Coruscant?” You asked. “The Republic, these people, this skyline… peace?”

He smiled. “I mean you.”

You smiled at him, devoted.

Crosshair chuckled. “All of that, too, but, mostly you.”

“Oh, Crosshair,” you wrapped your arms around him and perked on your toes, requesting a kiss.

Crosshair obliged and kissed you gently, almost carefully, feeling as the sunshine draped over his skin. He wished he could remain there longer, but he had a duty, a duty that had brought him to you, and a duty that he had to fulfill in order to one day be with you more properly. He knew that, with you on Coruscant waiting for him, he’d always have a reason to return, and a reason to keep fighting. He’d never thought of a life besides being a soldier, but if you were in it, it couldn’t be so bad.

And out there, on that balcony, Crosshair held you close to him until the very last moment he could spare with you, until he had to leave again to be a soldier, always with the promise of returning to you.

This just in: Sweetie and Sniper Man are still together and far more public now that I and my loyal sources have done our job ;) I do think we have a power couple in our midst, and the next time these two show up at a fancy event dressed to impress, you’ll hear about it from none other than yours truly. I certainly wish the happy couple all the best, and my challenge towards Sniper Man to bring forth more eligible men from the fine and respectable GAR still stands. Help us gals out, Sniper Man, we all love you so much, and we can’t let Sweetie keep all the spoils!

Yours truly!

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#uf series #moonstrider writes #tbb smut #tbb crosshair smut #crosshair smut #tbb crosshair x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb crosshair x you #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #the bad batch smut #tbb fanfic #the bad batch fanfic #tbb fanfiction

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I Don't Want To Wait, seventy-three

rowaelin high school bff au masterlist

AN: Alright, folks, we're in the very final stretch. Second to last chapter here. The final chapter will post next week, and I will have a much sappier note for you all then about what the last four years of this fic have meant to me. But for now... here you go.

“Are you really not going to tell me?” Aelin whined, looking up from her practice exam. As he had for the last several hours, Dorian shook his head of dark curls and glared back. His usually warm blue eyes held a bit of chill to them, but that didn’t dissuade Aelin. If anything, it made her persist harder. “Pleaaaaseeee, Doriannnn,” she continued. “Pleaseeee?”

With a deep, frustrated sigh, he aggressively turned the page to the thick packet of paper on the table in front of him. “I’m really not,” he said, yet again.

“What if I guessed?” Aelin probed. “Would you give me a signal if I said the right name?”

He silently began scribbling his answer, back to studiously ignoring the blonde seated across from him. “You’re infuriating,” he mumbled to himself.

“What about a gender?” she asked. “Or pronouns?” she continued. “He? She? They? Zim? Zer? Zie?”

Dorian slammed his pencil down and frustratedly gripped the bridge of his nose, crinkling it, as if in dire pain.

“I’m not ready to talk about it,” he said. Aelin tried to counter, but he cut her off with a startling admission.

“I am possibly gearing up to invite… this… undisclosed gendered person… to prom—” Aelin gasped, causing Dorian to roll his eyes. “—so, I don’t want to talk about it, because I don’t want to talk myself out of doing it. If that’s alright with her majestyyyy.”

She couldn’t help but bite her lip and nod, seeing the nerves Dorian had been studiously pushing down bubble up and over in his explanation.

“Fine,” she conceded, causing him to sigh a breath of relief. But Aelin couldn’t resist getting in one more piece of information while he was still feeling like disclosing.

Aelin’s grin split across her face as she whispered, “It’s Chaol, isn’t it?”

“Oh my GOD,” Dorian exploded. “You said you were going to let it go! I swear, if I get a one on this AP exam because you wouldn’t shut up about this…”

“Fine, fine,” Aelin said, zipping her still-grinning lips shut.

But she hadn’t failed to notice the way the back of Dorian’s neck stiffened slightly at the C-word. She was even more curious now. She’d had a sneaking suspicion that whatever tension had arisen between the pair during spring break would come to a head, but she really wanted to know how that resulted in them in a bedroom at Lorcan’s together the previous night. And how did they end up like that before Dorian had asked him to prom??? All she knew was that as soon as Chaol said yes to his prom date — because he would, no doubt say yes — she’d be teasing Dory about it for the foreseeable future. Without letting her curious mind wander futher, she resumed her genome diagram, finally putting the topic to rest.

. . .

Aelin wasn’t sure she was going to make it through this week. While her friends were partaking in senior pranks, skips, and general tomfoolery, she was stuck inside the gymnasium for hours at a time, completing her many AP exams. The air was sticky with humidity, and it somehow at its worst during test time. Sun poured through the gym windows, heating the room and steaming every student attempting to complete their already-difficult tests. Even the industrial-sized fans placed in each corner of the room were barely enough to give them relief, simply pushing around the heated air in warm wafts. It was honestly miserable.

Not only that, but between the actual exams and the studying for those exams, she had hours upon hours of nightly dance rehearsals. The showcase would be that weekend, and it seemed like Petrah was running them into the ground, attempting to perfect each piece of choreography. And though Aelin loved to dance — she really did, and she was grateful that she’d reentered the world — but she couldn’t help but think this might be the worst hell week she’d ever had. It was hell in the truest sense of the word. She’d lost track of the days, each one blending together into one giant cloud of stress. T

She wouldn’t have been able to do it without Rowan (and Maeve, to be honest), who had prepared and delivered her a week worth of dinner and snacks. He’d shown up on Sunday night with three bags worth of takeout containers (all labeled) and organized them into the fridge while she took a practice AP Lit exam. Honestly, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to remember to feed herself if he hadn’t, and she was infitinely grateful for their forethought. Yeah, sure, her dad wouldn’t have let her starve, but the end of the school year was always the fire department’s busiest time of year — having to deal with some senior shenanigans. Earlier in the week he’d had to remove a canoe filled with flaming shit (yes, literal bags on fire!) from Orynth High’s field — so, he’d been a bit sparse around the house. Which, wasn’t exactly bad. Aelin was grateful for the silence when she needed to study, but she was an extrovert by nature and her lack of human contact was definitely taking its toll on her. She was fully exhausted, but she could really use a night of socializing or fraternizing with her boyfriend at the very least.

Alas, Rowan was also MIA. She knew he felt like garbage about how little he was seeing her, but he was beholden to an insane practice schedule with his lacrosse championship game approaching. The pair of them were nothing more than passing ships in the night, barely seeing each other for more than a small kiss good morning before parting ways for the day. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she had a real conversation with him that wasn’t over text.

Fully exhausted, she shook a small container of Caesar dressing into the labeled salad Tupperware, forcing herself to nourish herself before collapsing into bed. She had merely one day left of this torturous week, and then she’d be able to take a deep breath. Maybe.

“You look kinda wrecked, babe,” Lorcan said, grabbing a beer from the back of the Galathynius’s fridge.

“Gee, thanks,” she laughed, elbowing him in the side.

“I’m serious. You need a vacay,” he said, his face uncharacteristically without any humor. “No, not need. Deserve,” he clarified. “What are your summer plans?”

Aelin didn’t have an answer.

She wracked her brain, thinking of all the time she’d spent thinking about the future and the upcoming months and realized that she’d completely skipped over this summer in her planning. Her future had always started in August when college terms began. She had forgotten to consider how she’d fill the three months of post-graduation time. She assumed based on whatever financial aid package she received that she’d need to take a job, but with her life still so thoroughly in limbo, a plan had never really solidified. Like the rest of her future, it was a hazy cloud. A blank slate. A chasm of nothingness.

“I… don’t know,” she finally replied.

“Well, do you mind if I make a suggestion?” Lorcan laughed.

She finished shaking her salad container and wordlessly followed him over to the couch where he’d already queued up the latest episode of Real Housewives. He patted the cushion next to him, and she collapsed with little hesitation, leaning into his thick shoulder for support. Lorcan was freshly showered and smelled strongly of Ivory soap. It’s how her dad usually smelled, too. It had taken her a while to get used to, but she realized it was the soap they had at the station. No matter what other shampoo they used, the soapy smell always pervaded her nostrils. It was strangely comforting.

“I think you need to chill the fuck out,” he continued, oblivious to her sentimentality. “I don’t know what that means, but… I think you’ve gotta do something that requires absolutely zero brain power. Maybe that’s lifeguarding or teaching dance to toddlers. Maybe it’s going on a cross-country road trip to try and find the best slice of chocolate cake. Maybe you want to take up a new hobby like gardening or join a karaoke league, I don’t fucking know. But you need to turn your brain off, babe. Let it take a three month breather. You’ll need it before going to college.”

“But I don’t even know if I’m going to college,” Aelin replied. She straightened up away from Lorcan and leaned over to grab a bite of her salad, trying to tune out her self-pity as she stuffed a wad of romaine lettuce into her mouth.

Lorcan simply laughed. “I’ll be the first to tell anyone who listens that college isn’t for everyone. It was never going to be my path, that’s for sure.” Aelin nodded, chewing thoughtfully as she listened. “But, you love to learn. I’ve never seen someone go through books for fun like you. Hell, I don’t think there’s a book in your room you haven’t read more than once. You love to debate and question your own beliefs and opinions, and that’s super cool. But also, it means you are pretty much bred for college life.” He paused and rubbed at his day clean-shaven chin, his eyes warming affectionately at her. “Everything is going to work out exactly the way it was meant to be.”

“That feels far too sentimental and optimistic coming from you,” Aelin eyed him skeptically.

“What can I say?” Lorcan said, stretching his arm across the back seat of their couch. “I’ve changed. Life is good.” His smile widened. “So, what’s the age makeup of your dance company like? Any of-age hotties you can intro me to after the show? Think Petrah would go for a younger daddy type or is she committed to a Rhoe-ish age gap?”

Aelin faux-gagged and pressed play on the TV, happy to ignore Lorcan’s button-pushing. But as the Housewives got into their usual drama, she found herself barely paying attention. Instead, she was imagining all the scenarios she could fill her summer with. And all of them involved being half-naked with Rowan. No matter what this fall brought, Lorcan was right; she needed a serious brain break.

. . .

Aelin breathed the deepest sigh of relief upon finishing her AP Lit exam. She had used the full allotted exam time, not finishing even a second early to go back and revise any of her words, filling the pages with her messy scrawl, analyzing theme after theme and character after character until she thought her hand was going to fall right off. She lifted the back of her shirt, which was drenched with sweat and tried to fan herself, but it was no use. She’d need a cold shower or maybe an ice bath ro reverse the heat stroke this stupid gymnasium had wreaked upon her body. And she couldn’t be more grateful to be finished with it.

Oh my god. She was finished. With exams. And classes. High school was nearly over.

“Congrats, graduate,” a familiar voice called out as Aelin the gym, causing her lips and toes to both curl. She was prepared to fall into his arms, but Rowan’s hands were outstretched, offering up a sprinkle-laden cupcake for her.

“We still have one more week,” she said as she bit into the cupcake. The sugar was exactly what she needed to perk back up after her insane week; she could feel it working its sugary magic with every chew.

But Rowan wasn’t deterred. He nuzzled his nose into her hair, inhaling her scent and leaning against her shoulder.

“Your exams are over, what else even is there to do?”

Aelin laughed. “Um, well, you have your game and I have my performance. Then I guess there’s just… prom and graduation,” she contined. “Oh, and the small factor of trying to get off Wendlyn’s waitlist.” She glared up at his roguish smile. “Nothing major.”

“I miss you,” he said quietly, and Aelin simply hummed her agreement in return. “Do you have rehearsal tonight?”

Aelin nodded as she took another bite of her cupcake. “Yeah,” she glanced at her phone. “But not for three hours.”

Rowan grinned. “Coach gave us the night off to rest before tomorrow.” His eyes darted around as he pulled her closer. “Wanna do something crazy?”

A pang of lust overtook Aelin as she realized how long it’d been since she’d been truly alone with Rowan. Over a week. She crossed her legs and pressed into him further as arousal coursed through her body.

“Absolutely,” she replied, causing his smile to widen even further and letting him pull her to the jeep with pretty much no hesitation. She was practically vibrating with an overload of hormones when Rowan missed the turn to their secret empty parking lot.

“Uhhh, Ro?” she asked, “You missed our turn.”

“No I didn’t,” he responded, brow furrowed in confusion. “I haven’t even told you what we’re going to do.”

Then it was Aelin’s turn for her brow to furrow. “Huh? I thought we were going to… you know.”

“OH!” Rowan’s cheeks reddened as he looked at his squirming girlfriend. “Uh, we can do that after, if there’s enough time.” He cleared his throat as he drove further down the main drag of Orynth.

“Well, if we’re not going to do that, then what the hell are we going to do?” Aelin asked, brimming with frustration.

His hands grasped the steering wheel tighter, his knuckles turning white with effort. He clearly wanted to surprise her. It wasn’t until they pulled into the City Hall parking lot that she finally put the pieces together.

“Wanna get a marriage license?” he asked.

He barely had time to gnaw at the skin of his lip with doubtful nerves before Aelin threw her arms around him and scampered out of the car. It was the first step to their forever. She’d forgotten they needed to make time for it with all that she’d been going through this week, but he hadn’t. And she was grateful.

Orynth’s City Hall was one of the oldest buildings in town, and entering it felt like being a part of history. Its ceilings were high and arched into a unique pattern of arches that crisscrossed overhead, and the green marble floors were tiled and grouted with gold, making each one stand out like a gilded diamond in the late afternoon sun. The marble shined so brilliantly that Aelin took care to walk especially quietly, assuming each step would echo loudly throughout the cavernous building, but her sneaker barely made a sound. In fact, the whole place seemed oddly hushed, as if it was holding its breath with anticipation. It contrasted heavily with Aelin’s racing heart, which thudding loudly in her chest as Rowan reached for her hand and pulled her toward the section of the room that was labeled “MARRIAGE OFFICE.”

The line to the marriage office was unshockingly non-existent on a Friday afternoon in their small town, and after showing their IDs and signing a piece of paper, Rowan and Aelin were quickly the proud owners of an official marriage license. It was over so quickly and unceremoniously that she wasn’t sure it really happened. But as she stared at the paper in her hands, she knew it was real. In five days, they could come back and get fully, a hundred percent married.

Before tucking herself into bed that night, she glanced at the white dress she’d placed in the back of her closet. She’d be able to wear it in five days.

But there was another dress she had to wear first.

. . .

“Everybody scootch together!” Maeve shouted, waving her camera in the air, trying to corral the couples in front of her. The humid weather was making the girls’ hair stick to their foreheads and curl where it wasn’t supposed to be curling, and all they wanted to do was hop into the limo they’d rented and make their way to prom, but Maeve insisted on a full out photo shoot. Apparently she’d gotten barely any photos of her prom night and she was making it all of their problems.

“Now one silly one!” she directed, causing everyone to groan. But her stern glare was enough to get them to all jump back into action and make their most ridiculous faces. Aelin stuck out her tongue and scrunched her eyes shut, causing Rowan to laugh beside her. He looked so incredibly handsome in his fully black suit. His green eyes popped and glinted in the golden rays of the setting sun, making him utterly irresistible. She wanted to fast forward to the end of the evening and peel him out of it, piece by piece, but that was hours away. If Rowan’s hands were any indication, he felt similarly. Her black dress had a low back with a twisting gold design up the back, subtly resembling a dragon, and he couldn’t stop touching her exposed skin. She shivered as his knuckle brushed against the low divot of her spine, and she looked up at him with absolutely no filter to her more lascivious thoughts.

“Keep it in your pants, babe,” Lorcan shouted from beside Maeve. She simply flicked him off.

“Classy,” Rhoe grumbled. “Keep that one for the grandkids.”

“Okay, now one sweet one. Look at your partner, tell them how good they look…… smile, Rowan!” she sang out, causing the lines of his frown to deepen further.

“Aunt Maeveee,” Rowan finally said with a long sigh. “We’re going to be late if we don’t leave soon.”

“Rowan Eugene Whitethorn,” Maeve chastised, “This is the only prom you and Aelin have attended together, and I will get at least as many photos as you took with Lyria two years ago, is that okay with you?”

Rowan’s jaw snapped shut at his aunt’s words, nodding in apology and hugging Aelin’s waist tighter at the mention of his last prom date.

“That was junior prom,” he grumbled. “It’s not even remotely the same thing,” he continued. “And she wasn’t even there. How does she know how many pictures we took?”

Aelin snorted loudly. “She tagged you in every single one on Facebook.” She laughed at Rowan’s raised eyebrow. “We allllll saw them,” she drawled, pursing her red lips at him. She laughed as he shook his head in disgust.

“So weird,” Rowan mumbled, mostly to himself.

“SMILE,” Maeve shouted, clearly annoyed that Rowan and Aelin were talking and not posing for her needs. They paused their convo to smile at each other with hearts in their eyes, and Aelin couldn’t resist lifting her heels even higher to press her lips to Rowan’s cheek.

“OH!” Maeve gasped. “Adorable. Let’s all do cheek kisses.”

“Can we not?” Dorian groaned from where his arms were wrapped around Chaol’s waist. Yes, that’s right, Aelin had been correct in her assumption that the pair of best friends had worked through whatever issues had plagued them and come out the other side. Aelin didn’t want to parade her rightness in Dorian’s face, but she had told him “I told you so” at least once of the best friends’ graduation from ~it’s complicated~ to prom dates. Prom dates who kissed each others’ cheeks. Chaol ignored Dorian’s complaining and laid his lips directly on his friend’s scruff, causing a soft rosy blush to appear on the tips of Dorian’s ears. Aelin thought back to two years ago when she had kissed Chaol in his car and couldn’t help but smile. All along the pair of them were meant to be with their own best friends. Who would have known?

Chaol’s midnight suit glimmered in the setting sun, making Dorian’s eyes shine even more blue, somehow. And though he protested initially, he leaned into his friend’s lips, looking at ease for the first time in weeks.

On Aelin’s other side, Elide and Manon were circling each other in bright swaths of color. Manon looked ferocious in a teal jumpsuit that was a few shades darker than her bright turquoise hair. Its neckline plunged between her cleavage, showing off her pale skin and a sleeve of fresh floral ink, winding around her biceps and forearm. It was the perfect compliment to Elide’s fairy light green tulle dress, which floated around them in glittering layers.

Behind them, Lysandra had surprised them all by showing up with her own date. The way they’d been during spring break, she’d half expected it to be Aedion, but she’d shown up with another sober friend from her AA group. A really nice guy named Harding. He’d apparently known Wesley, and instead of being a deterrent, it had strangely bonded Lys with him.

“Now kiss!” Maeve shouted, and Lysandra whipped her dark hair in Maeve’s direction and scowled.

“Some of us aren’t like that!” she said.

Rowan finally left the group and went over to Maeve and pushed her camera down. “I think you’ve got enough,” he said, and she nodded, letting them all disperse and make their way into the waiting limo.

Aelin had created a playlist and plugged it into the backseat. “Who’s ready to see some prom queens?” she asked, letting her friends cheer as Manon and Elide kissed each other thoroughly as the music blared overhead. For the first time in a long time, Aelin felt relaxed. She felt like … this was a seminal teen moment that she would remember for the rest of her life, and she was secretly glad that Maeve wanted to capture as much of it as she did. She knew that many years from now, she would go through the photos with the same warmth in her heart that was taking up space there right now.

. . .

As the hours passed, Aelin became even more grateful for Maeve’s forced documentation. Despite camera phones capturing video and photos galore, the night was passing by too quickly. And despite the pain that Aelin had felt in her years walking the halls of Orynth High and the question marks that awaited her on the other side, tonight was perfect.

The dance had a ridiculously cheesy theme that no one actually adhered to: Enchanted Forest. But the décor had completely transformed the stuffy gym that Aelin had hated so thoroughly the previously week. Twinkle lights twined through the lush greenery that lined the walls, and a glowing path of low mushrooms and lanterns lit the way to a photobooth that was covered in a romantic arch of branches. Overhead, they’d released a sea of green and gold balloons that covered the ceiling, but they floated around, transporting them all to a different world. It was silly, but it felt like magic. Aelin never wanted to leave this place.

Her fingers grasped Rowan’s neck tighter as a slow song came on, and she breathed his pine scent in deeply as he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. His lips ghosted hers, not fully kissing her, but not not kissing her either. Her entire body was alight with an amorous flame that hadn’t been quenched in days. His hand ran up her bare back, and it took all her restraint not to moan out loud. Instead, she sighed into his mouth.

“I love you,” she whispered, their breaths mingling at how close they were to each other.

“Gods, I love you,” he replied.

He kissed her then, deeply, soundly, not caring that camera flashes went off around them. He broke their kiss, panting slightly, and she couldn’t resist patting down the lapels of his suit and smoothing them beneath her palm. Reminding her that this was real. That he was hers.

“This is everything I’ve ever wanted,” he finally said, breaking her from her spell.

“Is it?” she asked, and though it was a leading question, she did actually want to know the answer.

As it had been mentioned earlier in the evening, Rowan had been to prom before, and he hadn’t really enjoyed it. In fact, he’d left pretty damn early. It hadn’t been a secret that Rowan didn’t enjoy school dances. Or school events. Or events of any kind, really. And she didn’t blame him for that. But she hadn’t expected him to love this night the way that she was loving it. Strangely, he sounded sincere, though.

A wry grin turned up half of his smile in a new roguish grin he’d been trying out that made him oh so appealing in ways that Aelin couldn’t even begin to articulate.

“Yeah, Ace,” he laughed softly. “It is.”

She knew she was fishing but she couldn’t help herself. “Why?” she asked, and though she thought he’d admonish her, his grin disappeared and his face turned as serious as ever as he gathered his thoughts.

“Because.” He cleared his throat and gave her an apologetic smile. “This was the way it should have always been,” he said. “When I came to prom with Lyria…” he drifted off and his eyes lost focus, as if remembering back to those days. They seemed so far away now. “I kept thinking how annoyed I was that I was there, and it wasn’t because I didn’t like school dances. Although… I don’t love those,” he chuckled lightly. “It’s because I wasn’t with you. Lyria barely cared that I was there. She just wanted me as a prop for her photos. And I was so mad at myself for not saying no, because the idea of going to prom with you had always been in the back of my head.” He kissed her cheek. “I wanted it to be you then because I’ve wanted it to be you forever. And yeah… it’s stupid, but… I’m glad I get to have this with you. Finally.”

Aelin’s throat tightened at his words, because she remembered how fucking miserable she’d been that night. She wouldn’t rub it in now. She wouldn’t tell him how she spent the night pained and alone on the rooftop, angsting about every moment that he’d spent with his arms wrapped around Lyria, but she was glad he’d felt it, too. Because it was always better when it was them.

She was seconds away from begging him to take her home and make her remember how good they were together when Principal Havillard tapped at his microphone.

“It’s that time of the evening, folks,” he said, clearing his throat and looking out into the crowd. “Voting for Prom King and Queen has been going on for the last four weeks, and as of yesterday, our panel of math teachers has finished calculating the results.” He paused again, looking slightly uncomfortable. “The results have been double and triple checked, and all that’s left to do is announce them…” The principal was noticeable uncomfortable as he reached for the envelope in his pocket, ripping it open and preparing to read the words that Aelin knew would be there. She and Dorian had calculated the polls multiple times. There was no way there was going to be any other result.

“Your Prom King and Queen are Manon Blackbeak and Elide Lochan,” he announced to an overwhelming, raucous applause.

Aelin and Rowan were among them, shouting at the top of their lungs as the spotlight found their friends on the dance floor and led them up to the stage, hand in hand. To principal Havillard’s credit, he did not react at all as he pulled the crowns from the teachers behind him, who held up plush red pillows donned with their headwear.

Manon pulled the thick gold crown onto her own head before placing the more delicate tiara onto Elide’s dark curls. The pair stared at each other, smiling widely, before Elide pulled Manon into a kiss. As the cheers echoed through the gym, Manon dipped Elide low, never breaking the kiss, though Aelin spotted the corners of a smile peeking through.

“PROM QUEENS!” one student shouted. “PROM QUEENS!” A chant rippled through the gym, reaching an apex as the pair finished their kiss and headed down to the dance floor for their first dance. It was supposed to be something slow and romantic, but Aelin already knew that Dorian had switched it out. He’d called in a favor with his friends in the drama department, and Aelin couldn’t help the wave of joy that washed over her as ABBA’s “Dancing Queen” began to play overhead.

She didn’t wait for Rowan’s approval before dragging him into the center of the dance floor with her friends, who were circling Manon and Elide and shouting the lyrics of the song at them. The pair buried their chins into each other’s shoulders, smiling harder than Aelin had ever seen them. Joy. Pure joy. That’s what this moment was. She could see Archer shrinking to the side of the gym out of the corner of her eye, but she barely gave the asshole a second of her thought before shimmying closer to her friends.

This moment was everything.

“Young and sweeeeeet,” Aelin shouted as loud as she could, twirling out into her group of her friends. “Only seventeeeen,” she said with an overexaggerated point to Elide and Manon, who were swaying and wrapped in each other’s arms.

“Dancing queen, feel the beat from the tambourine!” Dorian shouted as loud as he could, and Aelin laughed as Chaol disco’ed in a circle around him, pretending to play an air tambourine.

“OH YEAHHHHH!” Rowan interjected, causing Aelin’s brows to rise in surprise.

“What?” he shrugged. “Everyone knows the words to this one,” he said, and Aelin couldn’t help but release a loud peal of laughter.

In that moment, it didn’t matter that Aelin didn’t know she was going. Yes, they would all be headed their own ways soon, but it didn’t matter where they were all going. This moment was perfect. And they’d always have this. They’d look back on this moment as one of their best, with a nostalgic fondness that can’t ever really be recreated.

Aelin ushered them all closer until they were all huddled together with their arms around Manon and Elide. She barely noticed the nods of appreciation from the girlfriends, totally distracted by Rowan’s voice and the supportive arm at the crux of her back. They danced the night away, until it was way past when she thought they’d leave. Song after song, they stayed on the dance floor, letting their bodies sway and jump and twist and twirl. Exhilaration filled their circle, never dying down or even coming to a brief lull that would let them take off.

She’d anticipated there being a good moment of downtime for her and Rowan to make their escape, to peel off and go partake in the second half of the evening on Maeve’s rooftop. But even as the night wore on and the dance floor started to become more sparse, she felt herself unable to leave.

“You ready to go?” she finally asked Rowan, but he shook his head. “NO?!” she asked, bewildered.

“No,” he laughed. He grabbed her hand and her feet tumbled toward him as he pulled her against his chest. She looked up at his grinning face and felt a mirror image on her own. If someone had told her two years ago that she’d be in Rowan’s arms, dancing for hours at prom together, she probably would have burst into tears — because that person would surely have been mocking her. At that moment, Rowan’s hand squeezed her hip, pulling it against his in a brief gesture of comfort, as if to reassure her that yes, this was real. And she couldn’t imagine it being any other way.

It wasn’t until the music stopped and the lights abruptly turned on that Aelin even realized they were the last ones standing. She and her friends had effectively shut down prom, completely unaware of their classmates’ departure. Under the bright fluorescent light, the enchanted forest décor had lost a bit of its luster, simply looking like fake props and cheesy party décor.

“Gods, I’m starving,” Elide breathed as she wiped a stream of sweat from her brow.

“Me too,” Manon replied as she dug her teeth into Elide’s bare shoulder. The brunette squealed loudly as the bite turned to soft kisses.

“Burgers at Maeve’s?” Rowan suggested, and Aelin’s chest warmed as he was met with enthusiastic cheers. Clearly no one wanted this night to end. How could they? It was perfect.

As they tumbled out from the sticky gym into the cool night air, Aelin looked up into the star studded sky and took a deep breath. Next week… well, next week was graduation. In a few days, they’d all be going their separate ways. But for now, she couldn’t care about that. Instead, she followed Lysandra’s lead and kicked off her heels. Her toes thanked her as they stretched out, and she groaned in pleasure with their first step onto the high school’s turf, which was cold and damp beneath her feet. Shoes in one hand and Rowan in the other, she joined in the conversation of how shocked Archer looked to lose as prom king.

“I’m pretty sure he demanded a recount,” Chaol said with a low snort. “I heard your dad reassure him at least twice that the ballots had been counted accurately.”

Dorian cackled wickedly. “I also counted the ballots. And, uh, yeah. He lost. By a landslide.”

“TO A GIRL!” Manon shouted, tipping her crown to all of them and causing them to cheer raucously again.

Their voices echoed over the wide expanse of turf, and for a minute, Aelin let herself feel grounded and at peace. She was hyper focused on the way Chaol’s face lit up as Dorian hopped onto his back, on Lysandra’s easy grin as she skipped through the grass, on Manon’s proud puffed-out chest as she pushed a messy curl behind the side of Elide’s tiara, and on the steady swipe of Rowan’s thumb against her back. She’d breathe it in and exhale it out, and let this overwhelming sense of rightness soothe her. No, right now she wouldn’t think about what their next chapter would bring. She’d live in this moment for as long as she could.

#idwtw au #rowaelin #tog fanfic #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #charincharge writes

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purpleleafsyt · 5 months

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🩷🔧

#purplearts #lego ninjago #ninjago #dragons rising #ninjago dragons rising #ninjago fanart #dragons rising fanart #sora ninjago #ninjago sora #Sora my beloved #this was supposed to be a simple warmup but as you can see I failed spectacularly at that #its fine though I love how this turned out

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luck-of-the-drawings · 8 months

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IMAGINE. working at ur stupid uhhh job or whatever. pulling into your drive way and ready to work on some crazy project in your garage. opening the door to the most unfamiliar silence. did your wife and kid leave for something? could you imagine knocking on your kids door, hardly getting an answer, and opening it to find the splattered remains of your wife across his room your child is scared! hes hardly consolable, in a state of shock and terror. you are too, but youre the adult here. you need to take charge. you need to protect him. you need to do something. you need to do something.

#cw gore #jrwi fanart #jrwi show #jrwi prime defenders #jrwi pd spoilers #ashe winters #LOOOORRRD HELP ME THIS IS A YEAR OLD AND I HAAAATE LOOKIN AT IIITTTT ALL I CAN SEE ARE MY MISTAAAKESSS RRAAGHHHGGG ITS FINE THOUGH #ITS FIIIINE ITS ALL FIIIIIIINE!! IM HARSHER ON MY ART THAN ANYONE ELSE ITS FIIIIIINE IIITTSFFIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIINEEEE #ANWYAY SO I THINK ALOT ABOUT THE FACT HE KILLED HIS MOM. FUUUUCKED UP. POOR GUY.. i wish i could learn more about what that day was like #the lil scenario wrote is my own silly little headcanon. but what really happened on that day? was mark there? or did he come home to it?#how violent was it really? was ashe awake the whole time? does he remember exactly how he killed her? does he remember?#who was mrs winters? what was she like? i like to think she was the one that gave ashe the book. taught him what she could before. yknow.#did ashe or mark try to destroy it afterwards? i could imagine mark throwing it into a fire. only for it to reappear with ashe #maybe ashe couldnt destroy it but i could imagine him hiding it. hiding away from it. and yet when we find him he holds it so close #its the only thing he can do! no super powers or anything. this was it. why would he ever throw away the only thing hes good at?#AND GOOD GOD MARK... TURNING TO MERCENARY WORK OVER IT ALL... SELLING HIS SOUL TO A LAbortory that changed him in immense ways #when did it get bad enough for him to start covering his face? what was ashe thinking? he knew his dad was up to something but what?#maRK HAS SUUUCH A CRAZY KILL COUNT TOO. I THINK THE HIGHEST IN THE SERIES IF WE'RE NOT LOOKIN AT THE GODS OR WATEV #MASS MURDER. MAN HAS COMMITTED MASS MURDER AND BROKE OUT OF SUPER VILLAIN PRISON WITH A PEN. MAN BUILDS IRON MAN SUITS IN HIS BASEMENT #OKay okay enough of my ramblin okayokay i just REALLY LOVE THIS SSHHOOOOWWW DUUUDEE EEUUGHTHTHHRHGHGH I LOVE THE WINTERS FAMILY...

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stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage · 6 months

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This week on "CJ needs to gush about DAO": Morrigan's dark ritual.

I adore Origins because depending on how serious you take roleplay, every decision you make is a thread that leads back to your origin, and in this case of the ritual, who you choose to romance can have a major impact on how you handle this choice.

For context, my canon run is with a female Tabris who romances Alistair and keeps him as a Grey Warden, and is close friends with Morrigan. It's more in character for my Tabris to reject Morrigan's ritual and not even bring it up to Alistair, which would result in her leaving him behind while she makes the ultimate sacrifice in killing the archdemon... however, agreeing to convince Alistair to do the ritual with Morrigan is the only choice in the entire game where I break roleplay because I'm selfish and weak and I want Tabris to live.

I have a lot of strong feelings about the ritual, like it hurts me. It makes me want to chew on furniture. I can talk about it until I can talk no more. I so badly want to be strong enough to remain in character and reject the ritual.

Let me explain: Tabris survives an origin that deals with sexual assault. She gets kidnapped on her wedding day, she watches the other kidnapped women and her husband get murdered, and then is too late to save Shianni from being assaulted... and Tabris carries that trauma with her throughout the entire game.

If the way to save her life is to ask the two most important people she cares about; one being her lover and the other being her best friend; who she knows hate each other, to have dubiously consensual sex in order to make a baby to absorb the old god soul... she's saying no. The last thing Tabris would ever do is put someone into a sexual situation where consent is at all dubious after what she saw happen to Shianni and nearly happened to herself. She'd rather die than force that upon Alistair and Morrigan.

That's what I mean when I say origin affects everything; I know some will side eye that with "Really? Your warden would rather die than let Alistair sleep with another woman? It's one time, and Alistair agrees to it, so no one needs to die?"

Let me be clear in saying this isn't a "Morrigan slept with my man" issue. Sure, that part's awkward and it sucks, but that's not even breaking water tension, let alone diving into the deep waters to the core of the issue.

For my Tabris, this is about betrayal, consent, and accepting fate.

The person offering Tabris this deal is someone she thought of as a trusted friend who has actually been lying to her the entire time. It doesn't matter what Morrigan's intentions are now or if she genuinely wants to save the wardens. She knew from the beginning why Flemeth sent her with them, she admits as much. She knew a warden would need to make the ultimate sacrifice and then leveraged that to get what she wants. Morrigan waited until the night before, when Alistair and the warden learn one of them has to die to defeat the archdemon, and took advantage of the high running emotions and possibly the fear of dying to make the warden agree to her ritual.

At least, that's how my Tabris interprets this confrontation. She feels betrayed by someone she came to love like a sister and went out of her way to help Morrigan with her mother upon learning what's in Flemeth's grimoire. And then that someone tells her no one needs to die, she just needs to convince Alistair to sleep with her... which is a huge fucking problem.

The Alistair and Tabris romance is slow; it took a long time for either of them to be comfortable with being emotionally vulnerable and trusting each other with basic intimacy, let alone sex. Tabris is mortified at the idea of putting Alistair in this situation. Not only would it feel like a betrayal on her part to ask that of him, but she knows the last thing Alistair ever wants to do is father a bastard who then goes on to grow up without him. How could she possibly ask him to do that?

Then you consider that ritual or no, there isn't a guarantee that they'll survive anyway. Say they do the ritual and Tabris dies anyway; she made Alistair sleep with Morrigan in order to save her and then she died anyway. Or if Alistair dies then Tabris gets to live with the fact that the last person Alistair was with was a woman he hates because she asked that of him… and either way, Morrigan gets to walk away with what she wanted.

Tabris led the group, and she's accepted that if Riordan dies [which he does] then she'll be the one to make the sacrifice, even if it means breaking both hers and Alistair's heart.... except she doesn't because I'm a coward who doesn't want to lose her because my worldstate isn't good without her in it but I also refuse to lose Alistair so I just pretend it plays out differently in my head it's fine-

But... that's how I play Tabris and view the situation. My friend @pi-creates and I have discussed the dark ritual at length. While I play a Tabris who romances Alistair, Pi plays a Mahariel who romances Morrigan, so we have vastly different interpretations of the ritual itself and Morrigan's intentions.

Which yeah, it makes total sense that someone who romanced Morrigan with a different origin, and has the option to do the ritual with her rather than asking someone else to do it, wouldn't see this the way I do.

To quote Pi: "Playing as a male warden in the Morrigan romance makes the whole situation feel different, and maybe it’s because she’s presenting it differently due to the emotional connection, but it feels more like she’s opening up about her initial instructions (that she had been given by Flemeth) and offering a solution to avoid the possibility of death. And for my Mahariel, the constant threat of sudden death has haunted him from the start – he caught the blight and was ripped away from his clan (something he did not want to do in the slightest), got forced into a Grey Warden ritual that could kill him, was forced into a battle that could kill him, going on this whole quest that he never wanted but has now become responsible for regardless of his thoughts on the matter… the dark ritual may be one of the few moments where he is presented with an option to decide if he wants to walk into certain death, or take actions of his own volition to stop it.

"The idea of the ritual still feels like a dodgy thing to do since the ultimate outcome is unknown at that point, he’s taking Morrigan at her word that it will save the warden and that this child would be unharmed, just with an old god soul that she isn’t exactly clear on why she wants that and is determined to runaway immediately after the battle to secure it properly. It could be interpreted that it’s purely a preservation thing, but I’m biased to wanting Morrigan's intentions to not be power based.

"But also, taking part in the ritual isn’t as outlandish for my warden since he and Morrigan have already been involved in an intimate relationship. It’s the future of the ritual that is scarier – the idea of this old-god baby, and the idea of Morrigan insisting that she’s leaving afterwards when Mahariel and her have a loving relationship. He’s hurting, but he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want Alistair to die, he doesn’t want Morrigan to leave, he definitely doesn’t want pregnant Morrigan to leave on her own… it’s complicated, but for completely different reasons."

And I find that fascinating. I want to know how other players approach this part of DAO, what origins they play, and who they romanced. Seriously, this is an invitation to anyone reading to share their thoughts.

What about a warden who doesn't even have Alistair in their party because they made Loghain a warden? Is there anyone out there who has Loghain do the ritual with Morrigan and why? What about male wardens who don't romance her? Do you choose to do it with her anyway, or do you ask Alistair or Loghain to do it? Do you tell Morrigan to fuck off with the ritual? Why? Who makes the ultimate sacrifice in that case? And what about Morrigan herself? How do you interpret her intentions/motivations? I want to know.

I'm telling you, this is a discussion that gets me excited, as most discussions about DAO do.

#dao #dragon age origins #alistair theirin #dao alistair #dao morrigan #da morrigan #tw: sa mention #long post #i love origins so much #every time i replay i end up on discord having this discussion with pi because it makes me *emotional*#and yes this is why i was looking up alistair's dialogue about a dead warden before #also want to clear up that while i am harsh on morrigan based on how my tabris feels i don't hate her or anything i love her #morrigan's one of my favorite characters and that's why the whole thing hurts like... tabris was happy for her to come along with them #since she still didn't know alistair well and felt more comfortable with another woman around even though she never felt threatened by him #and for them both to be her closest companions like.... it's a lot to take in #and its not like tabris is totally in the right here- she doesn't tell alistair it's an option when it could be argued that she should've #but like i said i've never actually turned down the ritual because i love my warden too much... i just close my eyes #and pretend there's an alternate solution where Alistair and Tabris do the ritual and they have the old god baby instead sksksks #that way no one has to sleep with someone they hate and alistair gets to be there to raise his child. it's fine everything's fine sksksk #i don't care if it doesn't work that way okay it's the only way this works out better for everyone... except maybe morrigan but still

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