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gaysindistress · 4 months

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Limits of a Fae Heart - one

All ive been reading is ACOTAR fics for the last 9 days so here’s a lil something for our shadow baby boy Az. two | three | four | five | six

“We’ll take it from here,” a rich smoky voice calls from behind me. The two sentinels shuffles around, nervous with this new arrival and both reach for the swords strapped to their hips. I look over my shoulder to see a shadowy figure emerging from the treeline. From this distance, all I can tell is that it’s a towering form blurred by a vaporous mist that blends in with the darkness around us. A shiver pricks up my spine at the sight of the mist as memories of the King of Hybern’s men chasing me come flooding back. They never spoke to me, only jeering and laughing, so I know that this figure isn’t one of them but the fear still finds a home in my stomach.

My hand itches to reach for the black blade I used to wear but there’s nothing. I have no weapons and am only clothed in a thin white nightgown, making me feel vulnerable in a way that I detest. All I have is my body language and my words so I straighten my back and square my shoulders before turning to face the figure.

“Stop where you are. You are not welcome here,” the taller sentinel shouts to the shadowy figure and it stills a few feet from me.

I can’t see much without the sun but the lightning illuminates enough for me. The first thing I see is the small smirk that plays on parted pink lips, revealing straight white teeth.

“I am welcome anywhere that I please,” that stupidly smooth voice response and my eyes tear away from the lips to meet a pair of stunning hazel eyes that I will never forget. From beneath long lashes, the most soul piercing eyes make me their sole focus. In them green outer rings fade into golden brown pools that reminds me of the trees back home. Something about them warms the freeze that’s set into my body while also setting off every alarm bell inside of my head.

“Leave before we escort you back to your court of nightmares,” the sentinel shouts again but neither the figure nor I acknowledge her.

The figure takes another step towards me so I can see more of him as the sky streaks with more flashes of lightening. My eyes fall to the ground from the bright light and they land on his feet. Black leather boots cling to his legs while leathery scales act as a second skin and protect every inch of his body. He’s wearing Illyrian fighting leathers.

The recognition of my people’s armor stings worse than it did when I was cut down.

His skin is a golden tan, only furthering my suspicion that he’s Illyrian but the massive wings that sprout from his back are the true indicator. I pry my eyes from them and continue to take in every detail as I reach his face. Short dark hair falls over his forehead and curls over his ears as the sharpness of his face becomes too perfect. He is tall and sculpted, honed muscles seem to make up his entire body. Everything about him is too perfect, too sculptured, too attractive. The hair on the back of my neck stands on high alert and I find myself backing away from him without realizing.

The sentinel voice breaks my trance, “Shadowsinger, leave at once.”

His smirk turns into a devastatingly beautiful smile at the mention of his name as his eyes shift over to the men but they find me again within seconds.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, Y/N,” he says to me and me alone. Once again a hand is offered to me but this time I want to take it and I almost would have if someone hadn’t seized me from behind. I let out a shout, albeit cracked from being silent so long and struggle against the strong arms that encircle me.

“Quiet, we’re helping you,” a low male voice whispers into my ear.

“Don’t move,” he mutters to me and pulls me further away as the sentinels frantically look between the two Illyrian males and me.

“Hold onto me,” he instructs as he flares his wings out and spins me so we’re chest to chest. This male has the same hazel eyes and tan skin as the other but there’s a roughness to him. He winks at me, no doubt teasing me for staring and then he shoots up into the sky. He takes us high above the island that I must have been buried on and only stops to hover when we are a safe distance away. Below us, the sentinels and the other male are but specks of light and dark.

A flash of lightening strikes close to us and the male holding me curses under his breath. He mutters an apology to me before we’re encased in a cloud of black mist and my knees meet cold stone floors. I tumble out of his arms, gasping for air and gagging all at once. His muffled chuckle makes me more angry than I am sick and I clamor to my feet. Searching for something to use as a weapon, I find a vase on a nearby table and hurdle it at him. He ducks and the other male appears behind him, subsequently being hit with the vase. He’s able to cover his face and it shatters on his forearms, sending shards of clay everywhere.

A third male voice calls out, “I specifically remember telling you to not piss her off, Cassian.”

A shudder races across my body at the sound of his voice. The High Lord of the Night Court comes to stand beside the rough male, Cassian while the other, the one the sentinels called the Shadowsinger brushes off hits of clay.

“I didn’t do anything,” Cassian says with his hands held up in defense and shakes his head. “We willowed here and she probably got sick, hence throwing the vase.”

The High Lord arches a dark brow and turns to the other male, “what about you, Azriel?”

Azriel.

The Shadowsinger. He is name is Azriel.

Now I can see that the black vapor around him are really shadows, twisting and moving around his body. They reach towards me as a hum begins to vibrate in deep inside the void of my chest. Long ago a similar hum lived there but the male it was tied to had done terrible things and destroyed it. The golden warmth that once filled me was stolen when he betrayed me and left me to bleed out on that island.

I narrow my eyes at the shadows and Azriel sucks in a sharp breath, causing them to flinch away. Rhysand glances between us, obviously sensing the internal conflict happening between us and opens his mouth to speak.

“You should’ve left me alone,” I hiss before he can say anything.

Azriel stiffens and Cassian steps closer to him. Rhysand clears his throat and speaks, “we need your help.”

“Whatever trivial matter you’ve gotten yourself tangled in isn’t any of my concern. You should’ve left me alone on that island.”

“You were stuck between…” Rhysand tries again but I interpret him.

“I may have been stuck between this life and the next but at least I wouldn’t have been mates with yet another male who just wants to use me.”

Azriel blinks slowly at me and his jaw tightens at my words. Cassian and Rhysand both draw in sharp breaths. They shoot confused glances to each other before Cassian grabs ahold of Azriel and attempts to drag him away.

Rhysand steps towards me, placing himself between me and his brothers. His voice is quiet and softer than I expected as he asks, “You have a second mate?”

I don’t answer but my fleeting glance to the silent male behind him is enough.

“Impossible,” he mumbles under his breath with a shake of his head. His piercing violet eyes find mine, searching my hallow ones. “That’s impossible.”

#azriel x reader #a court of thorns and roses #azriel acotar #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #shadowsinger x reader #azriel spymaster #spymaster #limits of a fae heart az x reader

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ajortga · 2 months

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in what way?

pairing: tara carpenter x fem reader

summary: your ex girlfriend begins to regret leaving you when all she wanted to do was protect you. maybe she broke you more than she thought.

word count: 900+

based off request! i came across a reblog that said that i needed to make more tara fluff.. maybe next story?..

hello my love, I would like to know if you could do a one shot based on the song shut up my moms calling by hotel ugly, Tara x fem reader pls🙏

I just wanna rewind, I haven’t seen you in a long time

Ever since the ghostface incidents that fortunately, Tara has survived, she’s been avoiding you.

I mean, she knew you would never be ghostface, but whenever she was near you now she just felt like she shouldn’t.

She shouldn’t be spending time with you when she was always a pain in the ass over ghostface. She still had that trauma that she knew a band-aid wouldn’t fix, her inner and outer scars may never heal.

But she also knew she shouldn’t be avoiding you when you took a stab in your arm for her, you protected her, but you weren’t one of the core 4. What if you ended up like Anika? What if she failed to catch you when you fell? She was scared because she knew that if you ever died or even got a scratch on you, she wouldn’t be able to see the end of it. Nightmares haunted her every time she closed her eyes. It’s like she can’t even have a good option. Well except when she was hurled up to your neck as you snored softly on her chest.

Letting you go meant no cuddles and kisses at night, where she would actually be able to sleep peacefully without having any nightmares. There would be no more Friday nights with you. She wouldn’t be able to see you glance at her with these loving eyes you always did. She couldn’t bear seeing you look at her like you did at Chad or Mindy or Sam. You looked at her like she was Tara. Your Tara, your eyes go soft when you see her. She didn’t want to lose that. She loves you more than a heart's love. But if she keeps you with her, you’re at risk of being killed. You’re at risk of losing your life and Tara could never forgive herself. But you’ll be with her. You’ll be able to make her heart feel whole. What was more important? Keeping herself loved, or keeping you safe? Keeping your heart whole?.. Or breaking it?

“Gosh,” she groaned, she didn’t know. But she did know she was going to have to begin to stop seeing you so often.

A week in and she could feel it.

That isn’t you, so baby bring it in closely.

She felt your eyes trace her whenever she was in the room. She felt those soft eyes slowly grow dark, she knew you felt sad. Like you were waiting for her, silently knowing she might never come back to you. Tara doesn’t notice how you would blink your tears away that you had to cover your face and cry against your sleeves. She doesn’t know how if she only got a few hours of sleep because she slept without you, that you got none.

You got me feeling so lonely.

Even with the hurt that has held in your heart, you didn’t want to go back to her because she broke up with you, it wasn’t the other way around. It would never be the other way around. You felt alone.

You’ve been acting like you hardly know me.

You didn’t know why, you still didn’t know why she began to fade from your life, but you didn’t want to make her life so hard. Maybe she dropped you because that’s what you did in the first place, make her days a mess. When really it’s the other way around, you made it whole. Tara felt the way your figure turned away from her whenever she was near, a simple switch of your heel when she was there and walked away as quickly as you could. You talked to everyone but her.

You began to finally find back the solace that music brought. You used to wear them when Tara didn’t know you, you wore them over your neck all the time. But when you started dating her, music felt like it wasn’t necessary anymore. Why would you need it to listen to music when you could hear your girlfriend's sweet laughter and voice? It was better than a sweet melody. She brought you harmony.

You both missed each other. Your room was filled with her, polaroids in every picture hung up above your bed, three boxes filled with books you once read together, a cooking book you used to bake on free Sundays, jewelry. You never took it down, because you still loved her. You can’t stop loving someone. You just find someone else to love more.

Tara regrets it, she thought it would be so easy, she thought it would’ve been better to know that you were going to be okay. But ghostface wasn’t here right now. She felt so numb. Ghostface was gone and it would take time before the next legacy would be sparked to life once again.

But she ignored you to protect you.

And the thing was, she knew that she broke you more than she protected you. She wanted to take it back. Tara wished she could feel your warm body laying in the same sheets. Knowing that you were hurting more than she was.

You and Tara made eye contact, you two looked at each other for a long moment, before brushing past each other like strangers in another life, tears falling gently down each other's faces.

She could’ve taken you back, but what was there to fix if the heart was broken beyond repair?

Your heart raced whenever you saw her, but she felt it begin to slow, losing your hope.

She wanted you to heal, she didn't want to come back just to be told that you didn't want to see her face.

She didn't know.

Maybe she shouldn't come back.

Maybe she shouldn't come back home in your arms at all.

#jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x you #tara carpenter x reader #vada cavell x y/n #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x you #vada cavell x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #mabel finestkind #Spotify

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screamforyani · 5 months

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in the end, you’ll never escape

warnings: noncon, implied stalking

wc. 1.7k

a/n’s: pls stop putting drew’s photos through remini hell i can’t live like this anymore guys. also hi ik i died over here 👀

miles upon miles away from kildare, you were contentedly far from home. months ago, the distance wouldn’t have been as tempting. the outer banks and the life you’d made there were the only things you’d ever known. but when your home began to feel less and less like a safe haven, you were more keen to be anywhere else.

it wasn’t easy leaving behind your friends, god knew you missed them every fucking minute of every day, but you knew it was a good call. no danger could reach you here. to you, and to everyone involved, it was for the better.

well, except to maybe one person.

you could hear a familiar jingle rupture the air even all the way upstairs. your brows furrowed. you weren’t expecting any guests, and you knew that your parents couldn’t have been either, because they wouldn’t be back for hours.

there was a knock. not at the door, but at your heart. after so many months outside of the outer banks, it might’ve been ridiculous to still feel uneasy about being home by yourself, but the fear never quite ceased; it quietened. but those whispers could be loud if they so pleased.

calm down, you thought to yourself. would rafe bother to knock at the door?

but you knew that he would. as belligerent as you knew him to be in nature, rafe would always play nice to begin with. if needed, he would escalate things, and he was not afraid of taking things up another degree to get what he wanted.

you knew it, because you had dealt with it firsthand. you had been underneath him while rafe stood atop, wielding his golden shovel as he tossed dirt upon your grave. metaphorically speaking, at least. rafe hadn’t literally tried to bury you alive, but you wouldn’t put it past him.

you couldn’t put anything past him.

your heart thudded as you took your sweet time to pass the stairs, but it felt like you could only breathe after you took another step. you peaked through the windows, and blew out a breath of relief when the guy standing out there wasn’t your worst nightmare.

you unlocked the front door, pulling it open.

“delivery for…” the man said your name.

that was odd, considering you weren’t expecting a delivery either, but you cloaked your shock and accepted the box he handed you graciously, shutting the door behind yourself and locking it.

the second you were alone again, you raced to the kitchen to grab a knife. you needed to know what was in the box or it’d kill you. curiosity getting the better of you, you cut it open, pulling the gift out of the cardboard it had come to you in.

it was a sweater you’d been eyeing, an expensive one. sure, you were a kook by kildare standards, though in spite of all that you’d been through, your parents still hadn’t forgiven your past pogue-esque shenanigans and wanted you to work to be let off.

plus it wasn’t like you had a job. you guessed all your rambling combined with your suffering made them slacken, and your heart filled with warmth, happy to clear the tension between you and your parents even if only a little.

to be fair, you’d clearly been through… something, but they couldn’t piece it together, other than the fact that someone had been intimidating you, though that was only because it was glaringly obvious.

you couldn’t tell them. you wouldn’t even know how to start. and they wouldn’t understand, so you’d rather them be upset with you. sometimes it was just easier.

the doorbell rang again maybe an hour later, the sound startling you out of your own head. you paced downstairs, less hesitant than before. it was ridiculous to think that rafe would find you or be desperate enough to go after you when it would be easier to pick another girl on the island to break.

imagine your shock when you opened the front door and there he was. the devil himself.

every inch of you was frozen over, stiff. every muscle, every bone. “rafe?”

rafe chuckled. if you hadn’t known any better, you’d say he looked happy to see you, but there was always something darker. in your shock, you spluttered, “what are you doing here?”

“i can’t come visit my favorite girl?” rafe asked, pretending to be saddened, and oblivious.

your eyes flickered and you felt moisture instinctively gather at your lashes, though at least for now, you held it back.

he looked a little different. his blue eyes still knew how to pierce the very heart of you, but his hair was significantly shorter. though in spite of your blurring vision (the side effect of tears or the lightheadedness, you couldn’t tell the difference), your whole body knew it was rafe and it paralyzed with total fear.

still, you tried to level your breathing. “you’re not supposed to be here.”

rafe didn’t seem to care, stepping closer and leaning into your ear to mutter, “we’ve done a lot of things we weren’t supposed to. haven’t we, baby?”

you recoiled, immediately drawing back. “if you don’t leave, i’ll tell my parents…”

“your parents?” rafe repeated, that familiar sly, shit-eating grin curled onto his lips. “your parents, they love me. what will they do? invite me over for dinner? fuck, baby, you really know how to strike fear into my heart.”

“i told them what you did!”

it was a lie, and you knew it. more importantly, rafe knew it. why would you bother? your parents failing to understand you aside, it would’ve only done more damage. your parents would forever loathe the camerons and you were perfectly content not being a blip on ward cameron’s radar.

his son was already a handful.

rafe shook his head, pressing his lips together. “nah, no you didn’t. you wanna know how i know?”

your pulse quickened when he stepped closer again, already a foot inside of your house. this time, his lips brushed your ear, heightening the uneasy sensation that got louder with every thud of your breath.

you were trapped in his arms, with nowhere to flee. something as simple as the slightest of touches between you and rafe sent a shiver down your spine. “because you’re too afraid. you’d rather keep the peace than let them in. now isn’t that right, babe?”

your eyes stung as you glanced up at him. you were always beneath him, never on top. “please, rafe. go home,” you begged.

rafe’s true anger finally started to peek through as he said none too kindly, “no. did you really think i was gonna just let you leave me? now we can really be together. no stupid pogues to get in our way.”

you cried out in shock when rafe got a hold of you, yanking you by the arm into your own house and shutting the door before dragging you upstairs. you had no idea how he knew where your bedroom was and you were too afraid to ask.

“rafe, stop,” you shouted. “rafe, you’re hurting me!”

rafe’s grip didn’t slacken until he pushed you into your room, and hissed, “you hurt me. you think i wanted to be on that island without you? you were the only thing that made shit feel worth it...”

you swallowed, lips trembling.

“and then you just left. vanished. no goodbye, no nothing. you wanna know how that made me feel? like shit! like killing somebody,” rafe said, approaching you.

rafe had that look in his eye, that familiar, unpredictable glint he always got when he was up to no good. you tried to get away from him, tried to do anything to keep him at arm’s length, but he was quicker and reached for you again.

at this point, your heart was thumping in your ears and the tears were pouring down your face so hard, you could barely see. all you could hear was thunder. “rafe, please. i’m begging you. don’t do this.”

“don’t do what? don’t make you pay for what you did to me?” rafe asked, shoving you onto your bed. “nah. i’m gonna hurt you just like you hurt me.”

your eyes winced close as rafe started to rip the clothes from your body, but you didn’t fight back. it would only make it worse.

it hurt to breathe, inhale after exhale. your chest was taut with pain and terror and perhaps still shock, in disbelief that your measures to protect yourself had failed. but it was rafe. and whatever rafe wanted, he got. every fucking time without fail.

the irony was killing you. right now, you would’ve been a thousand times safer on the island than you were right now in a foreign place where you knew nobody and nobody knew you. though you knew that as long as rafe was breathing, you were never truly safe.

“that’s right, baby. don’t fight it,” rafe whispered, teasing his cock between your folds. the discomfort on your face was conspicuous, but you did nothing to make it stop. “i love that about you, you know. you don’t put up a fight. to you… it’s not worth it.”

rafe’s cock slammed into you, pushing in and out. he groaned, remembering everything he loved about your pussy. you gripped him, tight and vice-like, and the sounds that came from the very back of his throat were low and deep.

“it’s always worth it to me, though. if you want something enough, you’ve gotta just take it. and all those people that don’t want you to have it? just watch them cry,” he added, not even looking at your face anymore.

his eyes were between your legs, mesmerized as he tirelessly watched himself disappear inside of you again and again, as if he was under some kind of trance.

“cry me a fucking river,” rafe said, his other hand groping every part of your body it could touch. “you’ll get over it.”

your eyes narrowed, and you were overcome with the urge to smack him across the face, but you resisted. the last time you’d done it, in a situation way too similar to this one, he hadn’t hesitated to slap you back even harder. he was right; you didn’t think it was worth it.

to delay the inevitable was to prolong your own suffering. and in the end, you’d never escape.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #rafe cameron x reader #obx rafe cameron #outer banks smut #outer banks #rafe cameron x you #dark rafe cameron #dark obx

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yanderestarangel · 7 months

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⸺:･ﾟ✧ CRYBABY | BI HAN X AFAB READER

TW: unreliable narrator, mourning, blood, death, smut, mentioned death, hallucination, angst.

Everyone in the Lin Kuei wondered if Grand Master Bi Han ever had any type of feeling, besides hatred, anger and a sadistic and morbid pleasure in power. And the answer was yes, but no one would ever know, no one could see the hard, well-built shell he had made of himself for so long.

But, one person knew and that person was you... Or better said, it was you.

The fog of the cold winter corroded anyone's bones, but Bi Han felt nothing, being with you there, beneath him, making hot and passionate love with bodies drawn in a divine brush and venerated by mortals. Bi Han shed some tears, as always, he was a crybaby but only you knew that. The emotions so guarded and engrained for so many years, all the rapturous encounters of lust stood out.

"-Why are you crying, Bi Han?" -You asked in a soft voice, bringing one of your hands to meet the smooth skin of the man's face above you, staring at the brown immensity of his iris, while more tears fell from his eyes, eyelashes stained by salty drops as he whispered "sorry" softly moving his hips again, moans were heard, echoing through the dark and freezing night of a dark winter.

"-I'm alone, without anyone... Without anything, you're my last hope, you know me like no one else (Y/N)... I want this to last forever I-" -Bi Han spoke with a voice weak and vulnerable, it was one of the few moments that he allowed himself to be himself, when he was with you, he didn't have a cold and cruel heart, he was just angry with the future and present, the present was painful with the death of his mother , with the guilt of having let his father die for the greater good with the fear of the future, losing you... You.

Bi Han continued moving, skin on skin, the wet sound resonating through the walls, a touch of love and possession and fear, the feeling that gnawed at the man's already shaken heart and soul, he groaned as he felt your warm touch on his cold skin. Of him, he couldn't tell you how much he loved you, how afraid he was of losing you, he wanted to be the perfect man for you but he knew he was just an assembled reflection of what he once was.

"-You're a crybaby, Bi Han..."

You smiled, that smile that always warmed him, drying the tears that still insisted on falling more and more, making him place a chaste kiss on your forehead, while placing his lips to yours, whispering more and more uncertain promises that were lost by the wind that now let the requiem play, purifying your soul, distilled by a man who once loved you.

He still kept his wedding clothes, locked in a box in his room. Bi Han always arrived in the room after training, picking up the fine fabrics with a little dust, but even that didn't stop him from bringing the clothes up to his nose, feeling your perfume already spreading in the air while he felt his heart beat and ache, the Longing rotted him inside. His brothers always saw Bi Han reciting his wedding promises and vows to himself as he walked around the house, a daily habit that no one dared question.

Everything was so fast that night, but Bi Han remembered it well... After all, he was the one who killed you, he knew it was an accident, but that would never cancel out the guilt of having your blood on his hands, not even in the worst hellish nightmares drawn By the worst devils, he would think about killing you, but he did.

He remembers... The poorly lit night, with only the blessing of the moon's rays guiding the way to one of the villages that was being attacked by some beings from the outer world, you insisted on going with him, after all, you were a Lin Kuei ninja too and he blames himself for letting you convince him so easily. He was distracted for just a few seconds, which led you to try to stop some invaders alone, but it didn't work, you were cornered and killed.

Killed because of him, a cruel and fateful accident.

He remembered the screams of agony and pain of the villagers, but everything had become silent from the moment Bi Han found his body, bleeding, with cold blood in the middle of the snow, he fell to his knees, breathing and feeling the world. He fell when he saw your lifeless eyes, the smell of blood entered his nose, while he picked you up, he wanted you to wake up again, tell him that everything was a bad joke and that he was a "crybaby" as you always called him, but now, your voice was mute, quiet, empty, there was no longer you in existence, just a pile of flesh, of what you once were, a lifeless piece, of what Bi Han once loved , a dead doctrine.

It was his fault, he shouldn't have given in, he shouldn't have let you go, he needed to be colder and stronger... But at what cost?

The shadows now haunted Bi Han, the quiet stillness, cut by the sound of running water that the man used to wash his own hands, he still smelled his blood, he felt dirty, he felt guilty, he wanted When that stopped, he couldn't even cry anymore, yours echoed in his mind, disturbed by endless mourning and punished by some mocking divine being. The grand master always returned to the same blizzard that your body was in, he looked at the ground, now clean and covered by a new layer of clean ice covering the sad reality that he saw on that red and unhappy night, he heard your voice, he saw your shadow, or something that his mind designed to be you.

"-It's okay... I can be real for you Bi Han."

"-Real to me...? You... Not real... Angels call (Y/N), return your night, go, don't stay in my chaste shelter, my chest is already sore... Go in the infernal storm that threw you here..." -Bi Han whispered, making the shadow disappear, a malicious joke from the man's own mind, death, grief, guilt and cold consumed him, the great master, was ultimately,a crybaby, but the little humanity he had left with you.

©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023

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voidpetrova · 8 months

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˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ masterlist

the vampire diaries

╰┈➤ jeremy gilbert

fading boundaries

the night you left

possessive (nsfw)

in the middle

accessory (nsfw)

fearless (nsfw)

let the light in

escape (nsfw)

three's a crowd (+ tyler lockwood) (nsfw)

transition

all to myself

quick rinse

season of the witch

sleep with the enemy (nsfw)

paradise on earth (nsfw)

be quiet and drive (far away) (nsfw)

an eye for an eye

when the sun hits (nsfw)

heartbroken syndrome

best friend's brother (nsfw)

╰┈➤ tyler lockwood

body electric (I)

body electric (II)

three's a crowd (+ jeremy gilbert) (nsfw)

╰┈➤ kai parker

hard to get

romantic at heart

the dark side

everyone but you (nsfw)

kai would be an absolute asshole while fucking you (nsfw)

╰┈➤ damon salvatore

put me in a movie (nsfw)

hanahaki

art deco

╰┈➤ klaus mikaelson

partners in crime

╰┈➤ stefan salvatore

lose to love (I)

lose to love (II)

snake in the garden

teen wolf

╰┈➤ stiles stilinski

summertime sadness (I)

summertime sadness (II) (+ isaac lahey)

love and legacy

cold

captive hearts (nsfw)

compelled

marriage pact

the white party (nsfw)

he'd def talk you through it (nsfw)

we've got spirit (yes, we do)

pretty boy (nsfw)

╰┈➤ isaac lahey

summertime sadness (II) (+stiles stilinski)

fake dating

game changer

╰┈➤ derek hale

pack mentality (I)

pack mentality (II)

all mine (nsfw)

╰┈➤ theo raeken

bear the scars (nsfw)

twilight

╰┈➤ edward cullen

eternal enmity

gossip girl

╰┈➤ chuck bass

bal masqué

pretty little liars

╰┈➤ mike montgomery

twisted games

blindsided (nsfw)

shameless

╰┈➤ lip gallagher

teen romance

friends (nsfw)

dark paradise

starving (nsfw)

before he cheats

╰┈➤ carl gallagher

the bet

watch your back (nsfw)

the maze runner

╰┈➤ minho

minho enjoys being dommed and i stand by that (nsfw)

dating minho headcannons (slight nsfw)

╰┈➤ newt

newt fucking you in his WCKD uniform help? (nsfw)

╰┈➤ thomas

anxiety

first time (nsfw)

dating thomas headcannons (slight nsfw)

thomas confessing his feelings

cuddling with thomas

first time v2 (nsfw)

early mornings with thomas

late-night cuddling

back-scratching

comforting him after a nightmare

lover boy

morning kisses

the hunger games

╰┈➤ peeta mellark

peeta's a dom and i stand by it (nsfw)

euphoria

╰┈➤ nate jacobs

wyocmwyh? (nsfw)

outer banks

╰┈➤ rafe cameron

authority (nsfw)

you can pretend

put on a show (nsfw)

rafe cameron hates everyone, but you (nsfw)

cash or credit? (nsfw)

shoulder to cry on

double-crossed (nsfw)

settle the score

dylan blue (nsfw)

╰┈➤ jj maybank

a little less lonely (nsfw)

a little less lonely II

giving him head (nsfw)

shoulder to cry on

╰┈➤ john b. routledge

your ex-boyfriend, john b routledge

shoulder to cry on

╰┈➤ pope heyward

shoulder to cry on

╰┈➤ topper thornton

shoulder to cry on

✧.* taking requests!

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cuubism · 1 year

Text

more dreamling fic tropes that hit so good every time:

dream thinking he has to repay hob somehow for saving him. hob being like bitch what the fuck. we are friends

hob encountering dream in eldritch nightmare form and instead of being afraid he just like. pets the eldritch creature on the head.

(alternatively. dream is like 'you won't like my Nightmare form.' hob's like 'jokes on you i'm into that shit')

dream just. appearing in hob's living room. or in his bedroom. or on his bed.

the absolutely feral rage of hob when he sees dream in the fishbowl.

dream yelling at desire because how dare they make him have feelings for hob???? desire just like ?????????????

Desire trying to seduce hob. Dream being like I will punt you to the other end of the earth do not test me

hob's students being deeply deeply confused by hob's cryptid goth boyfriend like what the fuck is this relationship actually?

hob and death becoming bffs. perhaps through their combined power they can get dream to practice basic self care.

hob built the new inn for dream. (i frequently forget this isn't explicitly canon).

relatedly - the new inn as a temple.

hob as dream's knight in the dreaming. the king & his loyal knight dynamic generally speaking.

hob calling dream 'my king,' 'my lord' or some variation thereof and dream just bluescreening.

hob defending dream from some innocuous threat he definitely didn't need help with. dream deeply charmed by hob coming to his defense.

on the flip side. someone saying something mean to hob and dream yeets them into outer space. ("that was a bit of an overreaction." "it was not")

Hob doesn't get nightmares anymore because the nightmares are afraid of being unmade by Dream

meowpheus. in all incarnations

Hob making Dream finally eat something ("you didn't eat for like a hundred ten years." "Ughhhhhhhh")

Hob beating the crap out of people at the Burgess manor

That moment at the new inn reunion when oh my god. Their hands. TOUCHED

Hob wrapping his coat around Dream's shoulders after rescuing him.

Pressing their hands together through the glass.

Hob's friends/coworkers etc seeing him making heart eyes at this random goth and being like ????🤔😳??🤔??😳

The Dreaming residents seeing Dream mooning over this incredibly average guy and being like !!!!😑😑🙃🙃???🤨🤨??

"So then I went to hell." "Oh ok-- hang on hell is REAL?"

Hob: oh hey cool raven. Matthew: thanks. Hob: oh it talks too hahaha *dies*

Hob making friends with all the dreaming residents. dream's feeling a little personally attacked by the way they all gang up on him now

Dream just Chillin in Hob's classroom while he teaches. Hob definitely not Sweating at all

Hob giving Dream some of his clothes. But making sure they're black

#this is all to say. do not fear using the same tropes over and over in your fics. they are enjoyable every time #there are more but ive run out of thoughts #dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling

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venuslore · 8 months

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𖥔 𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄: 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𖥔

summary ; rafe begins to push you away when he realises the true nature of his feelings towards you

pairing ; rafe cameron x kook turned pogue!fem!reader

notes ; this series will contain mature themes, such as : p in v sex, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), swearing, physical altercations, potential nightmares and anxiety, arguments, drinking and drugs. if i forgot any please let me know.

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

summer nights in the outer banks always felt like a mist of nostalgia washing over you as you ventured to the boneyard. the humidity was high, and the stars were bright. speckling across the night sky like a blanket of magic, each holding a promise to return the next day like they had every other.

tonight’s party had passed by in a flurry, whisking you away with your friends for a night of unconventional fun. just the way you liked it.

the boys were up to mischief, as per usual, as they took part in numerous bets and dares to see who was the ‘best pogue’ while sarah dragged you and kie to the bonfire for a dance. and despite the fact that you had spent most of the night in high spirits, you couldn’t help the sudden plunge of morale as you watched john b sneak up behind sarah and wrap his arms around her.

the two of them holding each other close and swaying to the music as he whispered sweet nothings in her ear. it made your heart heavy knowing how badly you both craved and desired the love that they so openly shared with the world.

“hey, i have a question..." jj declares after the six of you had found somewhere quiet to hunker down away from the general vicinity of the party, and with a joint in his hand, he moves to lay his head in your lap as he gazes up at the night sky.

“what now?” kie rolls her eyes, waiting to hear what high-induced thoughts the blond had conjured up

“if oranges are called… oranges, why aren't lemons called… yellows?" silence fell over you all as you tried to hold back your laughter,swapping confused looks, only to eventually give in.

“okay. i think you've had enough of that for tonight,” pope grabs the joint from jj’s hand, despite his protests, and takes a puff for himself before passing it to john b.

“agreed. i think i’m getting a contact high just from being near you,” you laugh softly.

he lets out a small gasp, clutching at his chest as though he were wounded, “you should be grateful.”

“yeah, okay, j,” you shake your head, laughing, and ruffle his hair before turning to the others to ask, “hey, does anyone have the time?”

pope’s the first to check his watch, “almost midnight.”

“shit…” you groan quietly and throw your head to the side, sinking into sarah’s shoulder for a moment, “i’ve gotta go. are we still meeting before the dinner tomorrow?”

“yeah, of course.” sarah nods, knowing that the question was intended for her and kie.

picking yourself up and dusting the sand off your shorts, you swing your bag over your shoulder and wave goodbye to your friends. they blow you kisses as you start to walk away, shouting out a jumbled mess of their own goodbyes, but nothing was more distinct than jj's "see ya tomorrow, bubba!"

making your way through the remainder of the party, a group of kooks pass you by, each of them narrowing their eyes and one even blatantly whispering about you. your family’s history wasn’t uncommon knowledge on the island, and so, unlike the pogues, a lot of the kooks didn’t want to be seen hanging out with a ‘half-breed’, as they would sometimes call you.

like kie, your parents came from two different worlds, but unfortunately for them, they didn’t have quite the happy ending that the carrera’s did. so now you live with your mom and her new husband with all the other figure eight trust fund babies, but you weren’t really one of them — you never would be.

“y/n!” a voice calls your name, and you turn just in time to see topper wrap his arm around your shoulders. the strong scent of alcohol consuming your senses, and you sway off-balance from the impact of his weight.

“hey, top,” you pat his chest affably.

“hey, we’re friends, right?” he smiles drunkenly this time, and a slight hum leaves his lips.

you knew the question was of good nature, and you didn’t dislike topper, but he wasn’t exactly your favourite person either. so, not wanting to hurt his feelings while he clearly wasn’t all there, you decide to indulge him a little, “of course we are, buddy.”

“it’s just… i know you hang out with the pogues, but that doesn’t mean we can’t be friends? i’ve always been nice to you, and i know kelce thinks you’re cool, but rafe, he’s a tough one. he really hates pogues, and you’re like choosing to be-”

“topper, let’s go, man!” kelce shouts as he makes his way over to you, and a few steps behind him staggered along rafe cameron, “some of us are going back to mine.”

seemingly frustrated, kelce tries to get his friend to leave while rafe appears far more interested in the cup between his lips. when he does eventually look up at topper, his eyes fall on you under his friend’s arm for a moment before he runs a hand across his forehead and looks away as though he hadn’t paid you any attention at all.

“maybe you should get him a leash?” the suggestion falls from your lips, and from behind the cup in his hand, you swore you saw rafe smirk. though, it’s gone faster than it had appeared.

kelce lets out a soft chuckle, “don’t tempt me.”

“hey, y/n, why don’t you come with us?” topper turns to you with more enthusiasm than you could handle on a good day. like a golden retriever that was just given his favourite ball.

“as tempting as that sounds... i will have to pass.” removing his arm, you push him towards kelce, who reluctantly catches him.

“why not? it’ll be fun, and kelce and rafe will be there!”

“actually, i’ve, uh, i’ve got somewhere to be,” rafe discloses, taking the last sip of his drink before throwing the empty cup into the trash pile and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “so, i’m going to have to skip on tonight too.”

not wanting to stick around for the conversation about to be had, which would mostly consist of topper whining for rafe to go with them, you take your leave from the trio, “alright. well, i’m going to go. you boys have fun.” and as you pass through them, your arm accidentally brushes against rafe.

you don't think much of it, but the small graze seemed to have attracted his attention, because when you look back, his eyes are already watching you walk away.

the air was no longer sticky as you walked towards the main road. the temperature had dropped enough to cause an array of bumps on your arms and you cursed yourself for not bringing a jacket. the coolness nipped at your skin, and you helplessly wrapped your arms around yourself to gather as much warmth as possible.

the street was quiet, other than the distant sound of music from the boneyard and the occasional bark from a neighbourhood dog. the sky was dark with nothing but the stars helping guide you home, which only made it more noticeable when a set of headlights turned into the street. the sound of an engine began to approach you, slowing to meet your side before eventually coming to a stop.

“y'know, it’s at least an hour walk back to figure eight, right?” the driver points out, and an undeniable smirk tugs at the corner of your lips before you turn to see rafe leaning his head out the open window.

“really?” you retort, cocking your head to the side. “... what took you so long then?”

rafe licks his lips to try and downplay the smile on his face as you near the car, his eyes trailing up and down your body, "well, you know how it is?"

"topper wouldn't shut up," you say in unison, scrunching up your face as you nod.

"i guess that means i'll just have to make it up to you," he looks you up and down once more, his eyes lingering on the skin surrounding your chest and noting how the smallest cherubs of your nipples were poking through your bikini top.

smiling coyly, you sink towards him, pushing a hand to run across the stubbled hair on his head, and press a chaste kiss to his lips, "you better." your words muffle against him.

he hums with approval, a smug look on his face as you pull his bottom lip between yours, giving it a small tug, "you better hurry up and get in then."

you scrunch your nose at him before running around the other side of the car, and it doesn't take long at all for the two of you to reunite with the comforts of rafe's bedroom. the familiar scent of his vanilla lotion, cologne, and a hint of tobacco filling your senses the second he opens the door, and what was once a relevantly clean floor was now being littered with discarded clothing.

his fingers were gentle as they danced across your skin, loosening the knot in the back of your bikini with ease, before hoisting you up around his waist and leading you to his bed where he places you down atop his cotton sheets. his fingers make haste to remove the last pieces of your clothing as he peppers sweet kisses along your jawline, down to your neck.

rafe's kisses were reverent, his touch worshipping, as he slowly revealed every last piece of you. like a precious gift being unwrapped for all to see, but only rafe got the pleasure of doing so.

his breath is hot as he traipses his kisses further down your chest, and his lips soft as he presses them perfectly around the nubs of your breasts. flicking his tongue over the sensitive skin and erupting a whirlwind of rampant butterflies in your stomach.

"god, look at you," he mumbles, a hand now rolling down your waist, your thigh, stopping just shy of where you needed him the most. you needed to feel him, needed him to touch you, and he knew it. he could tell by the way your hips were ever so slightly bucking up to try and reach his hand. "so needy, baby."

smirking, he slowly glides his fingers over your clit and then begins working small torturous circles over it. your chest starts to rise and fall, the breathe being pulled from your lungs, and rafe pushes the side of his other hand into your mouth to help muffle your moans.

it's then that he presses two fingers inside you, letting his thumb continue to work you as he slowly pumps them in and out. your hips jut up, the pleasure working it's way through you until you couldn't bare it much longer. then it stops.

"rafe..." you whine, panting.

"what? you really think i'm going to waste the chance to have you cum around me?" he meets your face, bringing his fingers to his lips and licking your juices off of them, "not when you taste this sweet."

then, without warning, he grabs you by the waist and pulls you into his lap. letting nothing else stand between you both, he takes your mouth in a heated kiss. his tongue teasing you skilfully until you're left breathless. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and it only made you want him more.

with one hand gripping at your thigh, he uses the other to give himself a few pumps before swiping along your slit to gather your wetness. you jolt as the tip of his cock touches your clit, which he can't help but snicker at, and he slowly starts to push himself in.

rafe was big, there was no denying that, and you would have to bury your head in his shoulder from time to time to stop yourself from crying out as you sink down on him. you could feel him everywhere, and while you didn't have anything to compare it to, you had never felt so full in your life than when rafe was inside you.

it takes a moment to adjust but once he starts moving, all the pressure that had built up quickly turns into pleasure. you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him as close to you as you possibly could, your chests moving together as one as he maintains his rhythm. you try to kiss him, but he feels too good inside that all you can do is let out breathy moans.

his thumb moves down to work your clit once more, adding to the pleasure tightening and compressing within your stomach. waves of ecstasy taking over your body as you succumb to your high while rafe tries his best not to cum in you.

you press your head against him as your orgasm rolls through your body, your walls clenching around him and daring to push him over the edge, "fuck, i love watching you cum."

you notice the way his pupils had dilated as he stares up at you now, and you press your lips to his as you slowly lift yourself off of him, immediately feeling empty inside.

"told you i'd make it up to you," he stretches his neck as he leans back to rest on his elbows, closing his eyes long enough for you to work your way down to his waist and take him in your mouth.

he was still so hard, and creamy from being inside you, that the second your lips came in contact, his head lulled back with a sigh. he was already so close to the edge that it didn't take long for him to blow his load in your mouth. and you didn’t waste a drop.

after recollecting yourself, rafe throws you one of his t-shirts to put on and you make yourself comfortable against the headboard of his bed. he, however, instinctively moves to rest his head in your lap, and your fingers idly run circles on his head.

whenever you were with rafe, it felt like all of your problems simply washed away. he made you feel things you never had before. he made you feel alive. and while you loved spending as much time with him as possible, there was always a bittersweet feeling gnawing at you, reminding you that none of this was real, because your time together always had to come to an end.

it was always easier to just rip off the band aid rather than to let it fester until it consumed your every thought.

"you okay?" rafe asks, taking notice of how quiet and spacey you were being. you nod, not wanting to turn this into anything. "you can tell me," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the palm of your hand this time.

it was the small gestures like that that made it all the more difficult to keep sneaking around with him. you knew you could never tell him how you were really feeling but the longer you had to lie to your friends or hide away like he was ashamed to be seen with you, the more you wondered if this was how things would always be with him.

he had told you from the start that he had too much going on to be able to commit to anything or make promises he knew he couldn't keep, but that didn't mean it hurt any less. and no matter how many times he tried to reassure you that this wasn't just sex for him, he would always follow up with the fact that he couldn't let himself get carried away. not when ward was watching his every move.

“it’s fine, really,” leaning down, you press another kiss to his lips and then to his nose, “i promise.”

reluctant to believe you, he eventually nods before moving into your touch and nuzzling his face into yours as he kisses you once more. his hands move to guide you as your breath becomes ragged, and just as you’re about to get lost in him once more, you pull away, knowing that if you didn’t, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

between breaths, you whisper, “it’s late. i should get going.”

rafe throws his head back into his pillow, heaving a sigh, and where you expected him to agree or even help you gather your clothes from where you had left them all over his floor, he instead stops you. his eyes flutter for a second, and his jaw tenses the way it did whenever he was fighting the thoughts in his head, trying to flush them out, and with a soft voice, he says, “… stay.”

an inaudible gasp leaves you as you contemplate whether or not you had heard him correctly and when you don’t answer, he pulls you back to the bed, "stay... please."

rafe had never asked you to stay before or vis versa, the night always ended with one of you sneaking home, and while you were ecstatic over the revelations, you were also sceptical as to what had changed his mind all of a sudden. he doesn't say anything else, just pulls you back between the sheets and wraps his arm firmly around your waist.

you hadn't given him an answer, but you knew you weren't going to say 'no', who knew if he would ever ask you to stay again. instead, you let yourself melt into his warmth where you remained until the sun began to rise.

#— ꒰ ‧ ₊˚ vee daydreams ˖꙳‧ ꒱#rafe cameron ᰔ #— not sfw ! ᰔ #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut

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doki-doki-imagines · 1 year

Text

Just read the idea of shower sex with Michael Kaiser and this idea popped up.

Simple smut with feelings, reader has a vagina. I'm no good with smut so have pity of me and my poor writing skills

You didn’t want to give in, but damn Michael knows his way with words. A “darling” his right hand tracing a heart on your hips, a sugar-coated “I promise I won’t do anything, I’m too tired liebling” a tired sigh; all fake, traps tactically set up make you fall for them.

When you finally look up, you just see blue eyes so deep you could dive into them and a tired smile that transpires love, so it wasn’t all your fault if you fell for them; if Michael isn’t so lovestruck for you for sure you wouldn’t have fallen for any of his traps.

But you did, that’s why you find yourself with your back pushed on the cold tiles of Michael’s shower, your hands tugging desperately his hair, Michael’s body impossibly close to yours, his hands gripping hard your face not leaving the both of you any space to breathe and his tongue dancing with yours, wet noises dulled by the rushing hot water.

Michael’s hands began exploring, now tweaking and pulling your nipples, while you can only gasp at the sudden roughness “Too tired my ass” you think annoyed, “hypocrite” it’s another word it comes to your mind but this time for yourself, because no way you’re going to stop his ministration.

A harsh bite takes you to planet Earth again, you didn’t notice how Michael’s lips migrated southward, littering kisses down your jawline towards your neck, ‘till he bit you, pulling at your skin the minimum to know he’s gonna leave a nasty mark to hide the next morning; no way he is gonna regret it when his action pulled out such delicious sigh escape your lips.

Even if the tiles of his shower are so cold, you feel warm all over, even more with his mouth latching onto one of your nipples and fingers caressing your outer lips, with a delicacy you can’t find in the thumb that is now circling your clit or in his greedy mouth. Finally Michael fingers you, his ring and forefinger working wonders, curling and hitting just that right spot that makes you see stars.

“M-Michael” You manage to gasp out “I-I’m—” but a moan you can’t keep interrupt your sentence. Meanwhile, Michael’s eyes are sparkling, the sparkle you usually see when he knows he won and can’t wait to tease his prey endlessly “What? Can’t hear you well” He innocently replied, peering towards you with a Cheshire grin.

Michael deserved a kick, you didn’t even want to find yourself in this situation, it’s all his fault and he must finish what he started. “I need more” You struggled to say, his fingers never losing their rhythm “How exactly?” Michael crooned, the depth of his voice telling you he wasn’t as unaffected as he wants to look like

“Michael, I’m close—” so he stops and lifts himself up, he loves the face you make when he doesn’t let you finish; the spite and the need that swim in your eyes only spur him on.

He gives his member a few pumps, then he picks you up, your legs instinctually wrapping around his narrow waist.

You welp, no way this will end up well, you can play the scene in your head perfectly, he slips, you knock your head against the floor, you cry and whimper, fuck this is going to end so badly. Thank God there is Michael ready to wake up from the nightmare, the pinch on your ass more as a warning than a pleasurable one.

“I’m gonna fuck you so good, you’ll finally stop thinking with that shit brain of yours”

“As always you are all talk and no action, Michael” Your legs tightened around Michael’s waist, your fingers gripping, almost scratching his biceps, one hand tracing the blue roses you love so much while he slowly sheats himself into you.

You know you hit a weak spot earlier when Michael doesn’t even stop to ask if you are comfortable, his pace is relentless from the start, his hips cushioned by yours make a sinful sound, the wetness making your skin shine and your watery eyes are a delicious sight for the blonde eyes, he just wants to eat you up.

And that’s what he does, his mouth locked with yours, tongue finding yours in a ravenous dance, eating moan after moan, his hands gripping so hard on your legs that you are sure they are leaving indents, but you can’t complain much when you are doing the same on his muscular back, leaving your mark too on him.

Your hips start to thrust downward to meet his, you claw further with each thrust, the pleasure too intense to handle anymore.

“Michael—more please” He quickly obliged, not that far from the apex too.

“You acted all bitchy earlier-“ Michael lets out a groan “but you wanted to do this as much as me, mh?” He grips your ass now, painfully yet blissfully, just perfect.

“Maybe we are just made for each other”

It’s that tinge of sweetness in this animalistic act that makes you crumble, walls clenching impossibly tight on his cock and he follows you after a few thrusts.

Your chests heaved, both dirtier than when you started the shower, the warm water, now way too warm, washing away your sweat. Michael put you down, both your breaths heavy, your lips still centimeters from each other, both looking at each other like pulling off would have killed you both.

You finally lift your head, landing a kind and sweet kiss on the blue rose on his neck, your fave one, Michael leaves one on the crown of your head, a smile full of love on your lips.

Maybe you are really made for each other.

#bllk imagines #blue lock imagines #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk smut #blue lock smut #michael kaiser x reader

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arlh0e · 3 months

Note

Hiii if you are actually serious about taking requests then I was wondering if you could do something fluffy based on hozier’s song ‘to someone from a warmer climate’ because as someone from somewhere very alike to Ireland in climate it did something my heart heart the first time I heard it lol. I love how you write Andrew and just how you write tbh if you do end up writing it thanks in advance 💛💛💛

It came easy, darling

This is actually perfect for me right now because it is actually colder where I live than it is in Antarctica right now. Im being so dead ass.

Rating: PG-13 (this is the tamest fic I have ever written)

Warnings: Hozier x gn!reader, fluff, comfort, established relationship, COLD weather, not even attempting at using irish slang cause I’ll fuck it up.

Coming home from work today was an utter nightmare. You could’ve sworn that rain while it was so cold was arguably so much worse than snow or ice.

You had lived here your whole life and yet it never got any easier to live somewhere where it got this cold on a regular basis.

Today though, there was something different about this cold. Usually it was manageable, but today, you had trouble even with your numerous layers, staying warm in the brief periods of time that you were outside. It was the kind of cold that chilled you to the bone.

And what made it worse was the fact that the heater in your car had all but decided to completely shit the bed this morning. By the time you had gotten home, you could have sworn that you were at risk of losing a few toes.

Walking through the door, you were almost immediately greeted with the sound of Andrew upstairs playing with the band. You smiled. His idea to convert one of the extra bedrooms in the house you lived in together into a music room had been a fantastic one. He could work and record from home whenever he wanted. He loved being able to let an idea take him whenever the inspiration struck and having everything he needed in one room in the house made that so much easier for him.

You began peeling off your (now soaked) outer layers to hang them on the coat hooks next to the door. You quickly realized that even though you had been wearing several coats, the rain had soaked through to your shirt. Wonderful.

Still shivering, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom and quickly replaced your wet clothes with dry ones. Sweats and a shirt you had gotten from Andrews side of the closet, which was almost comically large on you.

You were still quite cold, so you grabbed a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around your shoulders before making your way toward where the band was practicing.

You loved watching them play. Specifically, you loved watching Andrew play. It was like his music transformed him, he was passionate and powerful and confident when he was playing. You entered the room quietly and curled up on the small couch Andrew had put in the room, specifically so that you could sit there and watch him if you wanted to.

They were running through a moment silence (common tongue), a song which he had written in one night while sitting next to you after and encounter which at the time he had said was “some of our best work”

You always wondered how he could get up on stage and sing about such things, especially considering that just listening to the things he had written about some of the nights you’d spent together made you incredibly flustered.

You found the whole thing sweet of course. The idea of this man being so entirely enthralled with you that you had inspired a rather large portion of his music over the years was flattering to say the absolute least. You were his muse and he made sure you were all too well aware of his music being about you, even if he was incredibly private about details when it came to his following.

“Love, you’re shivering.” Andrews voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You were so far in thought that you hadn’t even realized how cold you really were.

“Oh, yeah it’s a bit cold out there. I got a little bit wet with the rain, Im okay though.” You shrug a bit.

“No you’re not. Go to bed, turn on a movie, I’ll be there in a a few minutes.” He stands from his stool at the front of the room and sets his guitar down on the stand by the wall.

“It’s fine, I don’t want to interrupt.” You shake your head and move the blanket farther over your shoulders. “I’m okay, really.”

“We were just about done anyways, you’re not interrupting anything, darling.” He chuckles quietly and walks over to take your hands, pulling you to stand in front of him.

He places a soft kiss you your forehead, causing a happy sigh to escape your lips. “Go to bed, I’ll bring you some tea.” You nodded and leaned into his touch. You were still cold, so it didn’t take much for you to give up and do what he asked.

When you got to your bedroom and laid down under the blankets, it was the first time that you fully recognized just how cold you really were. You were violently shivering, teeth chattering, and desperately rubbing your legs together under the covers to try and generate heat.

You moved to pick up the remote from the nightstand next to Andrews side of the bed, turning the tv on. You scroll through Netflix, looking for something to watch for a bit before Andrew came in with two coffee mugs and handed you yours before making his way to the other side of the bed.

He wraps an arm around you and pulls you closer to him so that your head rested against his chest, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Why don’t we watch that documentary you started the other day?”

You gave him a funny look. “I thought you said you didn’t like watching murder documentaries with me?” You both laughed a little bit as you went back and clicked on the title.

“Yes, I think you’re weird for spending so much time learning about how people get away with murder, your bad list is not a place I would want to end up, however, you’re cold, so I’ll humor you.” He squeezed you a bit tighter for a second, and you started to feel yourself warm up just a bit.

He was always so warm. It was like just radiated heat from his every inch. You always found yourself nuzzling into his heat, but especially at times like this, being so close to him was one of the best feelings. Even when you weren’t saying anything to each other, moments like this were your favorite.

The intimacy between the two of you in moments like this was something that you always craved. The way he absentmindedly drew his fingers through your hair and held you so close to him was something you ached for when he wasn’t around, a privilege that you could never imagine taking for granted.

You found yourself paying more attention to the even sound of his breathing and the fluttering of his heartbeat than what was happening on the screen. You closed your eyes, sighing in content as you listened.

Every part of him was made of music, it seemed. His heartbeat was steady, creating a steady rhythm for the air in his lungs to sing along with. He was magnificent. Everything about him was nothing short of awe inspiring. He was beautiful, perfect even.

I could hear him start to hum a melody that was unfamiliar to me. It was beautiful. It was a soft, soaring melody line that was a little bit higher than his usual range. Nevertheless it was beautiful.

Looking up at his face, he looked completely lost in thought and he hummed the melody. “If you need to go write, its okay. I’m nice and warm now, it’s fine.” You smile up at him lovingly. You simply adored the way his mind worked. The way he could make music out of the simplest of thoughts.

“No, I wanna stay.” He pulled you even tighter to his chest, you were almost impossibly close, but it was in no way uncomfortable. “You help me think.” His face held nothing but pure love and adoration looking back at yours. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this much love for one person, and yet there he was holding your whole heart in the palm of his hands, the same way you held his.

His voice was soft, loving, so incredibly soothing as he sang the words while they passed through is head.

‘The feel of coldness only water brings

There are some things that no one teaches you, love

That come natural as a dream, you didn't know that you were in

And darlin', all my dreamin'

Is only put to shame

And darlin', all my dreamin'

Has only been given a name

it came easy, darlin'

As natural as another leg around you in the bed frame’

You could feel your heart melting at every word. Every time you thought that there was no possible way your love for him could grow, he did something that made you fall endlessly more in love with him. He truly was the only person you could ever see yourself being with.

Loving him was the easiest thing you had ever done, and hearing that he felt the same made your entire being melt into a puddle at his feet. You were putty in his hands. “I love you endlessly, Andrew.” You said it softly, but with so much power. Like if there was one thing in the whole world you could be sure of, it was your love for him, and to an extent that was true.

You loved him recklessly. In a way that was so intense it engulfed your entire being, swallowed you whole.

“I love you, more than anyone has ever loved anyone.”

:) I hipe this was okay, thank you for the request love you <3

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topherwrites · 4 months

Text

FIC RECS: OUTER RANGE, OUTER BANKS, STRANGER THINGS

If I made a little comment about every single fic or series here, it would be inhumanely long, so I've refrained from doing so and have just put the summaries for each. This is split into two parts, TGM fics and everything else.

I hope that anyone who reads this list finds something that they love on it just as much as I do! If I missed you, I'm sorry, there was a lot to sort through!

SOME OF THESE ARE 18+, PLEASE HEED THE INDIVIDUAL WARNINGS!

RHETT ABBOTT

Yellow Soul by @creatchie8

Trapped in a relationship with your high school sweetheart Perry is like a never ending nightmare of always stepping on eggshells. One winter break changes everything as you are reintroduced to his younger brother, Rhett. Looking for an escape, Rhett provides the perfect shelter you crave.

right where i want you by @sushiwriterhere

Standing there, staring at the cotton balls in the trash, some part deep inside of you decides that it’s now or never with Rhett.

Odds are Stacked by @sunlightmurdock

In which Rhett loses a bet and you lose your virginity.

Wayfaring Stranger by @/sunlightmurdock

Betrayal sends Rhett veering further West, searching for answers and searching for himself. Instead, he finds you.

Much Love by @southpawbitch

you & rhett have found yourselves in a little fwb situation despite the fact that you have a fiancé.

About Last Night by @delopsia

A self-indulgent take on Rhett's best friend coming back to Wabang and surprising him after his final rodeo.

Dancing Beneath the Moon by @/delopsia

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

Closing Time by @youvebeenlivingfictional

“You’re having a helluva night, huh,” You comment. “S’that supposed to mean?” “You got a shit bull, then you struck out with that girl…And you failed to bait Luke Tillerson into trying to kick your ass.”

RAFE CAMERON

Untouchable by @boneblushed

It is crucial that the head boy and girl of Kildare Academy work together. Too bad the head girl is you and the head boy is Rafe Cameron.

Glitch by @/boneblushed

Rafe has a bad fall on the ski slopes. A temporary amnesiac, he falls in love with you all over again.

So Gorgeous It Actually Hurts by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

childhood enemies to lovers, the slowest of burns, an unbearable amount of pining, both parties in heavy denial for like 90% of the fic, Rafe’s a total douchebag but he can’t help it (you’re gorgeous).

Euro Trip by @/folkloreslovechild (deactivated)

europe summer trip au!

new light by @outerbankies

you come home from college to spend your last summer before senior year in your hometown of the outer banks. an old friend hits you up wanting something more, and you begin to see what’s really been there all along.

You Belong With Me by @forevermoreharrington

Rafe’s fallen helplessly for his dream girl but she just doesn't see it yet.

tis the damn season by @atlabeth

When your roommate Rafe lies to his family that the two of you are dating, you agree to go home with him for the holidays to help sell it as his fake girlfriend after a generous bribe. It's just three weeks in the Outer Banks with one of your best friends -- what could go wrong?

Armour by @probably-writing-x

Having your heart broken was one thing. But Rafe watching somebody break your heart? That was something nobody could prepare for.

So We Won't Forget by @netegf

you meet rafe cameron at a grief support group while he struggles with the loss of his father. he's trying to be a better man, and you can't help but love him for it.

Hate It When You Leave by @/netegf

you are trying to cope with the fact that you're hopelessly in love with your best friend. He's trying to cope with the fact that you don't go after the things you want… including him.

I Know I Am by @bookofbonbon

For Rafe, it's always been you. He's just waiting for you to realise it too.

STEVE HARRINGTON

redamancy by @sanguineterrain

redamancy (n.) - the act of loving someone who loves you back; a love returned in full // or, four times you kissed Steve Harrington, and one time he finally kissed you back.

dancing with our hands tied part i | part ii by @taintedcigs

in which steve is in love with his best friend's ex.

EDDIE MUNSON

Pearl by @cacoetheswriting

a story about two kids trying to navigate through love and loss, inevitable goodbyes, various reunions, friendships and hardships, joy, heartbreak, plus surviving the upside down - all to the sound of Janis Joplin's Pearl.

#rhett abbott x reader #rafe cameron x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x reader #rafe cameron #eddie munson #rhett abbott #steve harrington #fic rec list #fic rec

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the-guilty-writer · 1 year

Text

Headcanons for Hotchner!daughter Service Dog

No one asked for it but here we are.

Inspired by the headcanons done by @ssa-thotchnerr on hotchner!reader emotional support dog

As someone who is a service dog handler, this topic is near and dear to my heart, especially service dogs who do psychiatric work. It's also important to me to address the differences between an ESA (emotional support animal) and PSD (psychiatric service dog) as they are two seprate things.

If you have questions about ESAs or Service Dogs send me an ask or a message! It's something I love to talk about and educate on!

Here we go:

CW: Foyet, Haley's death, counseling, medication, PTSD, PTSD symptoms, meanings to names

The whole thing with Foyet was traumatic. Being pulled away from your dad, being in witness protection, being told your dad was dead only to find out that he wasn't, your mom being killed- it was all too much.

Hotch was very proactive about getting you and Jack into counseling. Jack recovered from the events far faster and easier than you did.

After evaluation from a psychologist, they concluded you had severe PTSD.

You were talking to a therapist multiple times a week, taking medication, being open with your dad, even peer support groups, but after a year you still struggled immensely.

Panic attacks, nightmares, hypervigilance, depressive episodes, and avoidance still ruled your life.

Your medical team brought forward the idea of a service dog as an addition to the rest of your treatment.

You and your dad looked into it and decided it would be a good idea.

Until you looked at the price of training or getting a program dog and it was going to be upwards of $15,000 (really closer to $25,000) or at least two years on a non-profit waitlist. Some options were both.

Thank god for the "anonymous donation" from Uncle Dave.

You and your dad met with the program. They had you meet a few different dogs that were ready for task training, but ultimately you were matched with a solid black female german shepherd.

"She's from our outer space themed litter. Her name is Comet, after Halley's Comet."

That had you and your dad in tears.

It would still be months before she would complete her task training, but you got to see her when you went to do handler training.

She finally finished her training with the program and got to come home to complete it with you!

At first, having Comet almost made things worse.

People would point and stare, little kids would scream, rude people saying things like "you don't look disabled", "I thought only veterans could have PTSD", access issues, even some of your friends who didn't want to bring you along on activities anymore since you'd have Comet with you.

But it forced you to be a bit brave and learn to stand up for yourself and her.

And her tasks made your life so much better and gave you so much more independence.

Comet would "search" the apartment for strangers before you entered, so you could come home alone without Hotch or Jessica having to be there.

If you were home alone, she would bark when someone came into the apartment and go check to see who it was. If it was someone she knew, she would stop barking and come back to you, but if it was a stranger she would continue barking so you could call your dad and ask who was supposed to be coming to the apartment.

When you had nightmares, she would wake you up before they got really bad. This improved the sleep quality of everyone in your family.

Comet would alert you before you had a panic attack so she could perform deep pressure therapy and you could use your coping skills to try to make it less intense.

If your panic attack did get intense, she would do a "take down" to put as much pressure on your body as possible and gently lick you until you calmed down.

In the after-fatuige of an attack she would take you to a quiet place to recover and continue to provide pressure therapy.

If it happened when your dad was home she would get him to help you through it.

She would annoy you at certain times of the day to remind you to take your medications, sometimes even fetching the bottles for you.

When you would cry alone she would just starting bringing you anything she could find - water bottles, papers, pillows, dirty laundry (usually bras because it made you laugh) - so you didn't have to be alone with your feelings.

She would stand behind you and alert to people approaching so you didn't get startled.

Sometimes would provide "checks" around corners if you were having a really bad day with hypervigilance.

Having Comet opened up an entire new world for you, making you feel safe without having to have your dad or your aunt with you.

She wasn't a replacement for your therapy or medication, and the public could still be extremely rude. Sometimes you did leave her at home if you were going somewhere that it would be hard to accommodate her and you had your dad to help you incase anything happened.

But she gave you independence that you didn't have before and made your life so much better.

#criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x child!reader #hotch x daughter!reader #hotch x child!reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x y/n #criminal minds x platonic!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #criminal minds x daughter!reader #criminal minds x child!reader

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ruiniel · 2 months

Note

You said to send short asks, is it OK if for me to request a short ask about glorfindel and a female s/o relationship headcannons?

Totally cool if you don't!

Anon this is the very first ask I get for a Tolkien character x reader HC! *gasp* Thank you, whoever you are.

All right, this is with Third-Age-Glorfindel in mind...

CW: ever so slightly suggestive

Despite being well loved for reasons too many to count, Glorfindel warms up slowly to others on a personal level. When he does, the depth of his affection is boundless.

He often feels the burdening of Ages but hides it well beneath his mild disposition and a carefree outlook. With you in his life, it comes as a surprise that he resorts to that way of coping less and less.

He'll say, resting with you on a warm afternoon somewhere at the top of the valley, gazing at Rivendell from afar: "You... you are kindling." And he'll press your palm to his heart, so you understand.

When he returns from patrols in the wilderness, he will always get the bathing and changing over with as fast as he can, just so he can crawl into bed next to you. He'll rest with his head against your chest, sighing and tangling his legs with yours. The tightness of his hold is an expression of how much he missed this, sleepily murmuring words that send you into a fever.

And then he falls asleep.

The beautiful bastard.

When a full day of training, diplomacy or whatever else is done, you'll sometimes take refuge in your chambers; you adore the way his gaze mellows at the sight of you when Glorfindel joins, his dimpled smile a warming balm. If you're reading in an armchair, he'll shrug off his outer robe and plop down by your feet in nothing but his simple undertunic and leggings, hugging your legs and pressing his forehead against your clothed knees.

He knows you won't last long before you set the book aside, loves how you enjoy playing with that bright, silky hair of his. You hear low, contented sighs when your fingers tangle and bury themselves in his strands; he'll rub his cheek against your thigh in a languid, feline manner, smiling and breathing slowly to unwind.

He makes no great deal of it, but Glorfindel has a wonderful singing voice; he'll hum old Valinorean tunes for you in the mornings or during treks together through the surrounding woods, happily explaining their meaning and origin (some are satire, which makes it irreverently fun)

Glorfindel is a living flame. It's as though he was reembodied with powers and affinities especially designed to defy the manner of his untimely, traumatizing death. He has no nightmares of fire: he is one with it, now. His spiritual power vibrates against you in silver and gold, sending your nerves sizzling and your spirit in a swoon.

Even his body temperature rises to surprising intensity in certain special moments: you've come to crave that undulating warmth beneath his skin.

And oh, he's more than eager to oblige.

You were delighted to find that Glorfindel, Lord Glorfindel the warrior, actually can employ the finest of charms when he wants to (and is a horrible tease besides).

For all the positions of authority he's held throughout the centuries, this Elf simply loves it when you take the lead; sometimes even begs it of you. When you straddle him as he lies on his back, giggling and biting his lip at the pleasant weight of your body. When you pin him down by the wrists, look him in the eye and pant out your demands, telling him exactly what you need and where you need it.

He can tell, anyway, he always checks with you in thought.

He just loves hearing you say it.

Or moan it.

Sometimes, when he's exhausted or lost in you, he'll slip into Quenya, forgetting you don't understand a word of his mother tongue. But the sound of it is so alluring, so indescribably beautiful (especially in his voice), that you nearly moan from the mere whisper of it in your ear.

You've only ever experienced Glorfindel drunk once, on an occasion commemorating the old Gates of Summer festival. He was quiet that day, distant, barring your thought when you tried reaching him and often disappearing from sight, away from the others. You gave him space, and halfway through the silent watch of the night, left for rest.

No sooner did you change and was standing at the side of the bed than he appeared, closing the doors behind him and leaning against them, his gaze flickering with golden sparks in the dark. His step wavered only once as he slowly moved towards you, but you knew. You waited, looked on as he reached you, pressing one large palm to your chest and pushing so you fell onto the soft bed; you tasted hot wine on his tongue, understood, and held him tightly as he took frantic refuge into you.

#glorfindel x reader #glorfindel x you #more to be added #there's always more to be added #i mean it's HE #and I am weak #WEAK #ruiniel:fanfiction #x reader #glorfindel x oc #silmarillion x reader #lotr x reader #middle earth imagine

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sunflowersteves · 1 year

Note

CONGRATS ON YOUR MILESTONE BABY YOU ARE THE BEST OF THE BEST!!!!

🌼 din blurb request for ya…. i’d love to see what you could do with “night terrors . hold my muse after they wake up from a nightmare”

love u so much 😘😘😘

THANK YOU MY LOVE!!! Giving u a lil kissy, cat ok

warnings || nightmares, angst, tooth-rotting fluff, soft!din, fem!reader [Grogu calling reader mom in his head]

The razor crest creaked and rattled as it traveled through hyperspace. At the moment, outer space seemed quiet and tranquil. The infinite galaxies gleamed and settled into the dark matter that surrounded the universe.

You were sleeping soundlessly, the rise and fall of your chest was soft and light. Your dreams were peaceful, dedicated to the little family that you have created.

On the other end of the bed, Din felt hot to the touch. Beads of sweat drip down his temple and his arms twitch—as if he was grasping whatever was in front of him.

A dark shadow casted over his form from the encompassing fear that struck through his heart. Something felt wrong—he was mumbling your name and Grogu’s over and over.

He let out a gasp, startling himself awake and his eyes opened to the endless, plummeting sight of darkness. His heart pounded against his chest as he searched.

His hands fumbled across the mattress, desperate to find you, desperate to find Grogu. You were gone. Both of you were gone.

His hands eventually found your form, and he grabbed. “Din?”

The soft planes of your voice fluttered against his ears and he felt instant relief. You’re here. You’re okay. It was all a dream.

“What’s wrong, handsome?”

He didn’t realize the tears had fallen against his cheeks—not until your gentle fingers go to wipe them away. “Oh, Din.”

A sob left his lips as he opened his mouth to reply. The replacement of his words was harsh and garbled against his throat.

He couldn’t bear the feeling much more, his body clung to you in the darkness of your bedroom. He could tell you were frowning by the way he felt the curl of your lips on your skin.

You wanted to ask what the dream was—desperate to fix whatever had been bothering him, but you stayed quiet. Instead, you wrapped your arms around him and whispered sweet nothings against his ear.

You let him sob and cry against your shoulder for as long as he needed. Your palm cradled his head, fingers digging into his hair and pulling gently at the base of his neck.

He almost whimpered at the calming sensation of your hands and body against his. He kept repeating in his head, you’re safe, you’re safe.

On the other end of the ship, Grogu had woken up from the tight feeling in his little chest. He could tell something was wrong with his dad—the sadness that protruded from him and his mom’s bedroom was too striking.

He waddled his way down the hallway and gently opened the door to the bedroom. Din moved slowly and saw Grogu standing there with tears in his eyes.

The force let him see when others were suffering and it made him itch to help his dad.

“C’mere.”

He jumps onto the bed and you pull him right into the middle. Din’s hands go to Grogu’s chest so he could feel the small rise and fall of his chest.

You had taken his little hand and squeezed, prompting a little coo from the child. You held your hand there though and watched as Grogu snuggled into the space between the two of you.

“I love you both.” You say, your other hand moving to rest on Din’s cheek.

He breathes, “I love you both too.” He pauses, “so much.”

With that, the three of you by your side and hearts thumping against your chest at the feeling of pure love, you all succumb to the peacefulness of sleep.

#vic’s spring time sleepover ˚ ༘♡ ·˚#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars #star wars fanfiction

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charmandabear · 24 days

Text

Office Hours - Chapter Nine

Summary:

After getting some guidance from Shadowheart and Karlach, you and Astarion sit down for a much needed conversation.

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4.9k Tags/Warnings: none (for this chapter, see AO3 for a full list)

It's happened. I've left the realm of vampire smut and gone full-on vampire romance. Go check out Zaria for more amazing screenshots of the professor.

Read on AO3 ~ Masterlist

There’s a knock on your office door as you’re packing up, getting ready to leave. Your heart skips a beat before you remember that he’s not usually one to knock. You look up and see Shadowheart in your doorway, long silver braid swinging down her back. You eye her suspiciously.

“It’s an awfully long walk from the Divinity School...” you say slowly, your tone playfully accusatory. She pretends to be affronted, holding her hand to her chest.

“How dare you, can I not drop by my best friend’s office at the end of the day?” she says with an artificial gasp.

“And just maybe sneak a peek at the hot TD in the process?” you smirk at her and she flashes you a cheeky smile.

“I mean if we happen to wander past the set... design.. workshop on the way to your car, I wouldn’t say no,” she says in a sing-songy voice, and you laugh at her attempt to correctly name the location where Karlach works.

“The scene shop is in the literal opposite direction, but we can pretend like it’s not,” you quip and gesture to the chair in front of your desk. “Sit, I’m just gonna be a minute longer.” She daintily perches on the arm of the chair while her eyes scan the various show posters on the wall.

“Ooh, Venus in Fur, what’s that one about?” she asks innocently and you scoff as you slip your laptop into your bag.

“Don’t be coy, Hallowleaf. I want details. What happened the other night with Karlach?”

She fiddles with the end of her braid and tries to hide her smile. “Nothing too exciting,” she sheepishly admits. You swing your bag over your shoulder and smugly narrow your eyes.

“Mmm-hmm. Well let’s go casually head over to the other side of the building, away from the parking lot.” You try to suppress your shit-eating grin as much as you can, but you still see the tips of Shadowheart’s ears tinge pink.

The two of you walk across the lobby of the theater and into the backstage area towards the scene shop. You pass through the wide double doors and see Karlach sitting on a stool, elbow resting on her knee, while she talks to Fytz, the shop supervisor. When Karlach spots you, she puts her arm up and waves.

“Hiya, soldier! Nice of you to visit!” She clears her throat in an attempt to sound cool and disaffected as she adds, “Hey there, Shads. Good to see you again.” You hear a little giggle escape Shadowheart’s throat that you know she will absolutely deny if you bring it up later.

“Hey Karlach, Fytz. How is the build for the new play going? What’s the name of the playwright again?”

“Barcus Wroot. The set has been a nightmare to put together, we’ve never had to deal with so much welding,” Fytz says with a heavy sigh, jokingly wiping sweat from her brow.

“But man is that little freak a riot,” Karlach adds with a bellowing laugh. “He’s been great to work with, I’m glad we chose him for the new play slot.”

“I’m so excited to see it. Shade, you should come with us to opening night,” you say, turning to Shadowheart. “It’s an absurdist comedy called The Tinker, and it’s fucking hysterical.”

“Yeah, you should come with us!” Karlach squeals enthusiastically.

“Sounds like a lovely time,” Shadowheart says coyly in an attempt to not give away her hand, but you’re fairly certain that her feelings for Karlach could be witnessed from outer space.

“Oh, and soldier, you never filled us in on what happened with Dammon! I saw you two leave together,” she adds suggestively, and the guilty pang returns. You mentally acknowledge it and return your focus to the conversation.

“It’s far less interesting than you think, but maybe this should be discussed over drinks instead,” you say with a smirk. “Fytz, would you like to join us?”

“Oh, thank you for the offer, but I shouldn’t. I’ve got the feller and a little one to get back to,” she replies genially. Shadowheart frowns and fiddles with her braid.

“I’d love to go, but my bank account would be none too pleased with another trip to the Elfsong,” she says, her voice brimming with regret.

“Well I’ve got some brewskies at my place if you don’t mind sitting on the floor. I’m still waiting for my couch to be delivered,” Karlach adds brightly, and you feel Shadowheart’s energy change very quickly.

“That sounds fine!” she responds almost instantaneously, and you try not to giggle. She hates beer, and you can’t exactly picture her sitting on the floor.

“Great!” Karlach beams and hops off the stool, sending it scooting backwards with a metal screech. “I’ll text you the address,” she adds to you, then shoots a quick wink at Shadowheart, causing her to flush a deep pink.

***

This is your first time at Karlach’s, and you’re surprised by how quaint her house is. She lives in a little cottage outside of the city with an overgrown garden out front. When you and Shadowheart approach the door, you hear a deep woof from inside even before you ring the bell.

“No, Clive, get back!” Karlach’s voice rises above the din of the dog’s barks. She opens the door a crack, clearly blocking the creature behind her. “I hope you’re okay with dogs,” she shouts. You can feel Shadowheart stiffen; she had a nasty run in with a wolf as a kid, and large dogs still make her nervous. You surreptitiously grab her hand and give it a quick squeeze.

The two of you slide through the narrow opening to keep Clive from running outside. His appearance surprises you; a dark brown chow chow, at first glance you almost think he’s a small bear. He’s jumping up on both of you excitedly and Shadowheart nervously takes a step back. Karlach notices her apprehension and sharply commands Clive to sit with a snap of her fingers.

“Oi! Clive!” she barks at him, and he immediately settles down and stares at you with black beady eyes, tongue lolling out of his mouth happily. “He’s very friendly, he just gets excited to meet new people,” she adds in apology.

“Gee, I wonder where he picked that up from?” you tease, and Karlach throws her head back with a laugh.

“Go on into the living room, I’ll grab us some drinks. Shads, do you want me to lock him up?” She checks in with Shadowheart, her brow furrowing with concern.

“No, no, don’t worry about me!” she squeaks out. Then, after taking a moment to compose herself, she continues, “I’ll be fine if he continues to sit nicely like that.”

“Y’hear that, Clive?” Karlach addresses the dog and he looks back at her blankly, not a single thought between his fuzzy ears. “Ya gotta sit nicely or else the pretty lady won’t come back. Oh and Shads, go ahead and grab a dining room chair if you don’t want to get dog hair all over that cute dress.” Karlach flashes a toothy grin and Shadowheart responds with a look that almost makes you feel like you’re intruding on a private moment.

You awkwardly clear your throat and they both jump slightly, almost like they had forgotten about you entirely. You head into the living room, sitting on the round orange and yellow rug beneath the coffee table. Shadowheart follows and grabs one of the mismatched wooden chairs at the dining room table, bringing it over to where you’re sitting.

“Gods Shade, you must be down real bad, you don’t even like beer,” you whisper, keeping your voice low so Karlach won’t hear you in the kitchen a room over. She shushes you with her hand, nevertheless.

“I’m always willing to try new things,” she responds haughtily, but her wrinkled nose gives her away.

“At least you can maintain your dignity and not sit on the floor,” you tease, shoving her knee.

“Hey, I’m a big fan of sitting on the floor. Picnics? Wasting away the hours in a little garden? I’m just not now, because,” she hesitates, eyes darting to Clive, who is still sitting obediently by the door.

Karlach returns with three unlabeled bottles and places them down on the table. You and Shadowheart each take one, and she eyes the dark brown glass warily.

“My friend Aradin makes these in his basement. Well, ‘friend’ might be pushing it, he’s a bit of a twat. But I’ll be damned if he doesn’t make a good craft beer,” Karlach says with a laugh and holds out her bottle to toast. The three of you clink and you take a sip. It’s dark and sweet with a rich finish. Shadowheart takes the smallest of sips and tries to mask her disgust with a smile. Karlach either doesn’t notice, or pretends not to.

“So soldier, fill us in, what happened?” She curls one leg beneath her and rests her drink on her other knee, leaning forward excitedly. You shake your head, disappointed that you’re about to dash her dreams.

“I mean, literally nothing. We kissed, I freaked out, and he drove me home. I feel bad, too, he’s such a cutie and I feel like I led him on.” You frown, his words still echoing in your head. It’s not manipulative to not know what you want.

“Oh, he’s a big boy, he’ll get over it. He certainly doesn’t have a lack of suitors banging down his door,” Karlach says with a laugh. Shadowheart puts her beer on the table and crosses her legs, clasping her hands together around her knee.

“What freaked you out, was it Astarion?” she asks, her lips pursed. You take a big sip to avoid answering the question right away.

“Yeah. It still felt unresolved with him, and that wouldn’t have been fair to either of them. Any of us, to be honest.” You fidget with a loose thread in the spiral rug and you can still feel Shadowheart’s gaze boring into you.

“And now?” she asks pointedly, and you respond with a noncommittal shrug.

“We talked. He apologized. Now I just need to figure some things out,” you reply vaguely. Shadowheart lets out a cackle.

“He owes you so much more than just an apology after the shit that he’s pulled,” she sneers and Karlach snickers.

“A boatload of flowers, at least, and unlimited foot massages,” she says with a nod, taking a sip of her beer.

“I mean yes, he did more than just apologize,” you say, shaking your head. “We talked and realized we weren’t as much on the same page as we thought we were. He thought we were playing a game, we just didn’t actually talk about it beforehand.”

“Seems like a pretty fucking important step, if you ask me,” Shadowheart snarls, and Karlach’s eyes flit over to her, the corner of her lip tugging upwards.

“Is it a game you’d wanna play if you were in on it?” Karlach asks, tilting her head. You let out a heavy sigh.

“That’s the thing, yes,” you say despondently.

“Then why d’you sound so sad about it?” Karlach presses and you curl your knees into your chest.

At some point in the conversation, Clive pads over and sits between you and Shadowheart, the picture of perfect behavior. She doesn’t even register that he’s near her - she’s too focused on you.

“I guess,” you start, scraping your nail along some residual glue on the bottle from the previous label. “I’m working on accepting this new part of me. This thing about me that he discovered before I did.”

“What, that you like it a little rough?” Karlach asks with a salacious wink, and Shadowheart picks up her bottle again to hide her reddening face behind it. Clive shuffles over to her and rests his chin on her lap. She absentmindedly scratches behind his round, bear-like ear.

“I mean sure, if you want to be crass,” you mumble, still slightly embarrassed.

“Wait, but hold on,” Shadowheart interjects, waving the hand holding the bottle. “What about the potion he slipped into your food?” Karlach’s jaw drops.

“Soldier, he spiked your food?” She sounds horrified, and you wonder why it didn’t upset you as much as it probably should have.

“Listen, I know it sounds bad, but I don’t think it was that sinister. It was a charm person potion, which to my understanding isn’t super potent,” you say as an excuse, but the words ring hollow even to your own ears. You’re not sure you fully understand the effects yourself.

“And what does it do, exactly? I can never keep track of these new potions they keep coming out with,” Karlach asks, and you pull out your phone. You type ‘effects of charm person potion’ into Google and look at the results.

Rhetsim’s Charm Person Potion: Instantly make yourself irresistible to anyone! Subdue any who might hold hostility toward you and make yourself just a dash more charming to them. Effects last for one hour. Potential side effects include dizziness, nausea, and the drinker might know they’ve been charmed after the effects wear off.

You frown at your phone, possibly even more confused than ever.

“It seems like the primary effect is to make the drinker... less hostile? I had never shown him any hostility - well, at least not after the first time we slept together.” You chew on your lip, and Shadowheart scoffs.

“Come off it, Tav, you’re constantly hostile towards him,” she cackles and you scowl.

“He still could’ve just talked to me first,” you grumble, unwilling to admit that she’s right. Karlach and Shadowheart speak over each other in enthusiastic agreement.

“Oh absolutely, 100%, he definitely should have.”

“Besides, what kind of damage could I possibly do? Look at me, I’m not very threatening.” You gesture at your 5’2” frame and Karlach laughs.

“Anyone could be threatening enough with a stake,” Shadowheart shrugs and takes a sip of the beer before remembering she doesn’t like it with a face.

“Sorry, what?” Karlach’s mouth is agape, and Shadowheart looks at you apologetically.

“Shit, sorry, do people not know?”

“I genuinely have no idea, I don’t know why it took me so long to get it. I feel like it’s pretty obvious the second you notice the signs,” you laugh. It’s not like he works very hard to hide the bite mark on his neck.

“So Cardigan’s a vampire... huh, I feel like that explains a lot,” Karlach says and you can see her mentally cataloging the same things you did when you first found out. “I guess I can’t blame him for being cautious. We can’t help who we are. Or what’s been done to us.” Karlach’s eyes grow glassy and suddenly she’s very far away. Clive leaves his post at Shadowheart’s side and immediately goes over to Karlach, licking her face. She comes back to reality and laughs into his fur, giving him chin skritches.

“So what’s next for you two?” Karlach asks, setting her beer on the table so she can pet Clive with both hands. “You both want to get freaky, but you just need to talk more?” Shadowheart makes a face of distaste.

“I mean what do you two actually know about each other? How many conversations have you had that weren’t just foreplay?” she asks, and you open your mouth to protest, but quickly close it again.

She’s right. You can’t think of a single conversation that you’ve had with him that wasn’t brimming with sexual tension. The closest you’ve gotten was when you taught his class, but even then you only kept it in check for the sake of the students.

“Quick, what’s the unsexiest date you can possibly think of?” you ask suddenly.

“The museum?” Karlach asks, and Shadowheart looks at her coquettishly.

“I don’t know, I think the museum is pretty romantic,” she says, her voice bordering on a purr. Karlach’s ears flush a violent purple and you clear your throat for the second time that night to remind them of your presence.

“Maybe bowling?” Shadowheart suggests, completely disaffected by the puddle she just reduced Karlach into.

“That’s not a bad idea,” you muse. “It would help if you two were there. Then you can also give me your more candid opinions,” you offer, and Karlach pulls herself together.

“Ooh, group date! I can invite Wyll!” she says excitedly.

“I don’t want him to feel like a fifth wheel,” you say, scrunching your nose as you think. “I suppose I could invite Gale, that wouldn’t be weird, right?”

“No way, the more the merrier!” Karlach lights up while Shadowheart gives you a tight-lipped look. She knows about the weirdness that Gale has caused in your relationship with Astarion, but she refrains from saying anything, at least for now.

“Gods, I haven’t been bowling in ages,” Karlach says, fully oblivious to the silent exchange between you and Shadowheart.

Your phone lights up with a text from Astarion. Your heart leaps into your throat - you don’t think he’s ever texted you before. Karlach and Shadowheart both crane their necks nosily.

You swipe open your phone to see a picture of His Majesty gnawing on the corner of a heavily scratched and chewed 48 Laws of Power.

-He agrees with you on the merits of this book.

You let out a sudden laugh that causes Clive to jump slightly. You turn your phone around to show them the picture.

“Oh my gods, is that his cat?” Karlach giggles, and Shadowheart rolls her eyes.

“Looks like a weird little rat,” she says, and you protectively take your phone back.

“Shut up, I think he’s cute,” you say defensively.

-Clearly he’s a man of good taste.

“Look at that smile,” Karlach hums, and Shadowheart smirks. You stick your tongue out at them and turn your attention back to your phone. You stare at the brief exchange for a moment, take a breath, then text him again.

-Do you mind if I swing by? I have thoughts too big for text messages.

-Most thoughts are. You’re most welcome to.

“I’m going to head out, I wanna go talk to him before it gets too late,” you tell them, hoisting yourself to stand.

“Aww, c’mon, we’re having a great time!” Karlach whines.

“Yeah, and I haven’t finished my beer,” Shadowheart adds, holding up the full bottle.

“Well, Shads, if you wanna stick around, I can always drive you home later,” Karlach says, her voice heavy with suggestion.

“Alright, alright, I can take a hint,” you laugh, holding up your hands. They both make halfhearted protestations. “Stay safe, you two. Shade, text me when you get home. You know, whenever that might be,” you wink and head out the door. It’s barely closed behind you when you hear the telltale smacks of kissing.

***

You’re unsurprised when he opens the door before you get a chance to knock. Your heart is threatening to jump out of your chest and he’s expecting you. You feel something clench deep in your core when you see him. Hair slightly tousled from a long day, top few buttons of his shirt undone, sleeves rolled up just past the elbows. He looks like he could’ve just stepped off the cover of a GQ magazine.

“Come in,” he waves you inside, and you can see the eviscerated copy of the book still lying on the floor. His Majesty is curled up a few feet away, purring contentedly. You sit on the couch, resisting the urge to curl your knees up into your chest.

“Would you like me to sit beside you, or...?” he asks vaguely, and you gesture to the spot on the couch next to you.

“No, please, sit, it’s your home. You should at least be comfortable,” you laugh without much humor. He sits stiffly, almost like he’s afraid to spook you.

“So what are these ‘big thoughts’ you’re having?” he asks, and you force yourself to look at him, despite your discomfort.

“Being with you feels... different... than anyone else I’ve ever been with,” you begin slowly, and he watches you intently. “And I had a hard time dealing with that. And no matter how good you make me feel, it was outweighed by these feelings of disgust and loathing I had for myself.

“The reason why I was so mad that night after the theatre, besides the fact that it was tailor-made to piss me off-” you throw him an accusatory glance and he shrinks from your gaze. You soften. “Sorry, I-”

“No, don’t apologize,” he says quickly. “Please, go on.” You take a deep breath and continue.

“Because even that was proof that you know me better than I know myself. I couldn’t let myself fully succumb because I was worried about what it would say about me, as a person.

“I’ve never been with someone who is so completely attuned to what my body wants that they know things before I do. And that’s cool! And, like, also terrifying? Almost like there was a conversation happening without me.” Astarion shifts uncomfortably.

“So, anyway...” you finish lamely, not wanting to say anything else before you give him a chance to respond. His red eyes are round and watery, his brow canted upward into an expression of concern. After a moment, he speaks.

“You are the most expressive person I’ve ever met,” he starts quietly, and you almost need to lean forward in order to hear him better. “You wear your heart proudly on your sleeve, and that’s something I admire about you. I’ve never been very good at genuinely expressing emotions, even before...” he trails off, but the meaning is clear. Before he was turned.

“I’ve carefully constructed the persona that I show to the world. Centuries of crafting the person people see me to be so that I’m always in control. And you saw right through that. Immediately. And I believe you hated me because you could see how disingenuous I was at all times.”

“I didn’t hate-” you start to say and he looks at you over the top of his glasses pointedly. “Okay, well. I think that was as much about me as it was about you, if not more.”

“And because I’ve spent so many years desperately trying to control how people see me,” he continues in spite of your interruption, “I find it rather freeing when I have the privilege of controlling you. I’m able to stop worrying about myself for once, and just focus my energy on you.”

His lip quivers and he takes a shaky breath. “That only works, I suppose, if you want me to take control. I thought you did. I’m so deeply sorry.” He looks away from you.

“But that’s the thing,” you place your hand on his chest to call his attention back to you. You feel a flutter of motion, his blood moving slowly through his unbeating heart.

“That’s the thing,” you repeat yourself softly, your gaze fixed on the point of contact. “I did. I do. Want that.” Your eyes flit up to his face. “I’m just... coming to terms with it.”

The two of you sit together for a moment, your hand pressed to his chest, until his skin has absorbed its warmth and they’ve reached the same temperature.

“It’s just nice to not have to think for a bit,” you finally say, pulling your hand back into your lap and he lets out a small shudder at the loss of contact. “To let my brain go blank. To not have to make a decision. To just... be.” The words feel new even to your own ears. Without thinking, you kick off your shoes so you can bring your knees up into your chest.

You look back up at him, your expression suddenly cold and serious.

“But I need to know I can trust you, Astarion.”

The two of you stare at one another for longer than you can count. He finally breaks your trance with a steady nod.

“I understand. And I’m willing to do what it takes to earn that trust.” He hesitates, then takes off his glasses to really look at you. “You... you’re incredible. You deserve something real. I want us to be something real.”

“I do too. More than anything,” you respond quickly, and you see the tension in his brow melt away.

“And maybe what ‘real’ looks like, at least for now,” he says, his voice much more steady, “is to be together without sleeping together, for as long as you need.” You sit back on your heels and chuckle.

“You know, that almost sounds like a challenge,” you say a little breathlessly. You want nothing more than to tear at his button down, for him to flip you on your back and to fuck you mercilessly. But he’s right. If this is going to be real, whatever that means, then you need to discover what the relationship is outside of sex. And more importantly, you need to figure out what exactly it is that you want, and how to communicate it.

“You don’t need to figure it out all on your own, you know,” he says, and you snap your attention back to him.

“You did it again. That thing where you’re basically reading my mind,” you pout slightly, but soften at his sheepish grin.

“I told you, you’re very expressive.”

The two of you sit in silence again, and you wiggle your toes absentmindedly against the goldenrod couch cushion.

“I probably shouldn’t ask if I can kiss you,” you murmur, paraphrasing his words from the other day.

“Whatever it is that you want, darling,” he says, and you look up at him mischievously.

“Well you tell me, you’re the expert. What do I want?” you taunt, feeling emboldened by the conversation. He smiles dangerously. Suddenly his hand is twisted into your hair, holding you but not pulling, and his lips graze the sensitive skin below your ear.

“I can think of a few things, love,” he purrs, his nose tickling your earlobe and his fangs barely scraping your artery. Your breath hitches and you shiver audibly. You let your body arch into him, yearning for contact. He lets out a low chuckle. “But perhaps what you need is a different story.”

He holds your chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger and kisses you gently. Your hands move to cup his face, your left pinky lightly skating over his scar. He breaks the kiss but keeps your face close to his as you steady your breathing.

“I hate it when you’re right,” you rasp in a voice barely above a whisper.

“Something you’ll have to get used to, I’m afraid.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and lets you go. Your mind flits back to the conversation with Shadowheart and Karlach. You need to have an opportunity to get to know him in an environment where you won’t end up like this, barely able to keep your hands off one another.

“Do you want to go bowling?” you ask, and he blinks at the sudden shift in tone.

“What?”

“Bowling. With Shadowheart and Karlach, and some other friends. And me, of course,” you mumble the last part, almost embarrassed by the instinct to clarify.

“I- I suppose. I don’t know if I’ve ever been,” he says with a frown, and you suppress a laugh.

“You’ve never been bowling?” you ask incredulously. He glares at you.

“Can you possibly imagine me in a bowling alley?” he scoffs, and the laughter bubbles out of you. You break down into a fit of giggles at the mental image of someone as refined and sophisticated as Astarion in a dingy, sticky-floored bowling alley.

“Alright, you’ve made your point,” he mutters and playfully pushes your face away. Your giggles eventually subside, and the two of you are back to sitting in slightly awkward silence.

“I should probably leave,” you finally say with a sigh, slipping on your shoes. He nods and stands up to walk you to the door. You linger for a moment longer in the threshold.

“Yes, darling?” he asks as though you have more to say. You do. So much more. But the words are swirling around your head in a jumbled mess, and you couldn’t make sense of them even if you wanted to.

“Nothing. I’m just... thinking.”

“I’ve noticed, you’ve been doing that a lot these days.”

You scrunch your face in annoyance and he smiles. He kisses your forehead again, and you lean into his touch. You look up at him and your breath catches in your throat, and before you can stop yourself you’ve flung your arms around his neck and started kissing him hard. He presses his hand into your lower back and you whimper into his lips. You finally wrench yourself away, panting, and you admire his puffy lips and dazed expression.

“Right. Bowling. I’ll text you,” you say breathlessly.

“Bowling. I... look forward to it.” The lie makes his voice sound stilted. You flash him one last smile and tear yourself away from his doorway before you do something you regret.k

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