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#that's not what Cora wanted for you AT ALL
clockwork-ashes · 10 hours
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All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XII
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Find Part I here :)
Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.
Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3
Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere /
Elain held onto Lucien as he led her to the dance floor, their hands a perfect fit, shards of glass whose broken edges showed no crack when put together. 
Lucien’s steady presence was a comfort to Elain, especially as she felt the captivated looks of countless nobles fall on them. As though he could sense her unease, he traced his thumb along the knuckles of her fingers. 
Days before, Elain was certain she would have found the genuine gesture bothersome, but she was surprised as she felt a nervous weight slip off her shoulders. 
Elain was grateful, had come to the realisation as the two of them had entered the hall that no matter how many negative thoughts plagued her, Lucien and her were on the same side in this. Like allies in battle, Elain had no choice but to place all her trust in the man she had spent years avoiding. 
Elain had been the one to come for Lucien, after all. She had been the one to believe Eris’s words, had been the one to make the decision of travelling to Autumn, had then faced Beron and told him they were to be married. Each choice was her own, and Elain would stand by them stubbornly despite what anyone else might say.  
Elain bit her bottom lip as she looked to the edge of the dance floor, hoping she would spot Cora or even Eris, any familiar face would have been welcome in the sea of nobles. When her eyes instead fell on Lethe, beautiful and dangerous, Elain had to fight her sudden urge to scowl. 
Elain had not liked the way the other woman had touched Lucien’s shoulders, and while she could acknowledge her reaction was ridiculous, probably the pull of their bond, Elain decided that it might be best to keep Lethe away from her mate for the time being. 
She wanted to continue her search for Cora, but Elain knew the importance of remaining focused on the task at hand. Much depended on their performance, and Elain was determined to give everyone watching a show worth their while.
Lucien stopped, Elain’s steps halting as he raised her hand in a prompt for her to turn his way. Elain looked up at Lucien, breathing in sharply as he placed his broad hand on her waist. 
There were layers of fabric between them, and yet Elain felt the warmth of his skin seeping through her dress. She arched into him, hoping the onlookers spotted the subtle movement as she gave Lucien her undivided attention. 
The musicians played a note, letting it ring through the large space as all the couples prepared to dance.  
Elain felt herself blush, speaking to Lucien in a low voice so that no else could catch her words. Her cheeks heated under his gaze, “I hope you’re a good lead,” she clipped, offering him one of her friendliest smiles.  
Both of Lucien’s brows lifted as he flashed her a grin. “The best,” he reassured her, tone serious, but she felt the playfulness behind the statement through the bridge between their souls.
Elain had to fight back a giggle. Lucien was undeniably charming, and also unfairly handsome, especially so when he smiled. 
Elain usually pushed such thoughts aside, not allowing the quiet voice in her head that insisted Lucien was lovely to be heard. If she had considered the mating bond simply based on looks, Elain would already be married to him. Drawn to him like a moth to a flame, Elain let herself feel some of that desire, let it show on her face so that anyone might see it.
Elain kept her gaze on Lucien as he spoke, his golden eye whirring softly. “I trust you’ll be able to keep up?” He was so very fae, his russet eye almost seemed to glow in the dim firelight, hair wine red and looking soft as silk. 
“Definitely,” she said with a confident nod. 
Elain’s lips curled up in a knowing smile as she remembered how Nesta had dragged her to dancing lessons in Velaris. She had spent many evenings a handful of months before with Cassian, Azriel, and her older sister learning about all the popular dances in every court. She promised to herself as Lucien tightened his grip on her hand that she would have to thank Nesta for it when she returned to Night.   
The music rose around them, the beat so fast that despite how familiar Elain was with the traditional Autumn dance, she was still taken off guard as Lucien stepped back. 
Elain followed, laughing, hoping the sound of her genuine joy carried over the instruments, that the couples around her had heard. Beron had been convinced in the throne room, had believed they loved each other, but something in Elain’s gut told her the nobles in the ball room would be just as hard to convince.
Elain moved her feet quickly, hoping that she was dancing to match Lucien’s easy rhythm. He raised his hand elegantly, and Elain readied herself for the turns. 
Lucien spun Elain effortlessly, her skirts flaring around her. Elain gasped at the way the green fabric glimmered in the flames of the chandeliers, making it seem as though it was grass blowing in the wind. 
As Lucien once again pulled her towards him, Elain clumsily missed a few of the steps, his firm grip on her waist the only thing stopping her from crashing into his chest. “Did you see that?” She breathed, still marvelling at the talent Autumn court seamstresses must possess. 
“Breathtaking,” Lucien said, his eye dark with what could only be desire. The way the word fell from his tongue was enough to make Elain swoon, to make her believe he was not talking about the dress at all. 
Elain had to remind herself that he was simply acting the part of her betrothed, that he could not long for her in such a way. They were strangers.
He is mine. 
The thought crashed through her, and perhaps it was because she knew many were watching them, but she let it show on her features. 
Lucien pulled her closer still as the final notes of the song played, they shared the same air, the scent of sweet apples overwhelming her senses. Elain kept her steady gaze on him as the music came to a stop, as clapping could be heard for the orchestra. 
“That was fun,” Elain laughed, feeling awkward now that they were no longer dancing and Lucien still held her. She had always enjoyed dancing, especially when she had been a young girl in the human lands. 
Before Lucien could respond, the next song started, and many moved around them to stand by the dance floor’s edge. Even Lucien furrowed his brow, tucking Elain to his chest as the song continued. 
Elain recognized the music, knew it was a Night Court dance reserved only for lovers. She had seen Rhysand pull Feyre into his arms, humming the now familiar tune countless times so they could dance around the living room. 
She felt a sudden ache deep within her at the thought of her family, missing them all and wishing they were with her. 
Elain was grateful as Lucien spoke and dragged her from such thoughts. “Beron must have been very impressed by you, Lady Elain Archeron.” 
She almost snorted, doubting his words. “How can you say that?” They were nearly chest to chest, hardly any space between them, but Elain was glad that they could at least talk during this dance. 
Hearing her disbelief, Lucien continued. “Night Court music at an Autumn Court ball? That’s practically unheard of.” 
She turned her head to look at him, catching the sharp line of his jaw. They were so close, Elain could only see his profile, and was tempted to rest her cheek against him. Instead, she said, “That’s good, it must mean that I’m endearing myself to your family.” She watched as Lucien could not hold back a wince, understanding that perhaps the topic of his family was not a good one, Elain asked him a question. “Lethe and Kai, they’re old friends of yours?”
Elain was curious, wanted to know more about them and hoped Lucien would share some of his thoughts. She heard his scoff before he replied. “More like Eris’s friends who I spent an unusual amount of time with.”
“Feyre was like that,” Elain offered, the little bit of common ground they shared between them. Younger siblings, Elain had noticed, tended to do that sort of thing, often reminding her of sprouts growing in the shade of larger trees.
She felt him shrug, muscles moving beneath the fingers of her one hand. “It was hard making friends as the son of a High Lord, at least in Autumn.” He added with a short laugh. 
“Poor you,” Elain joked, hoping he would take no offence to it. 
Surprise was like a flash of lightning along the bond, but Lucien’s amused expression remained the same as he responded. “I’m still so upset over it.” 
The song’s final notes played as Elain asked, “Do we keep dancing?” 
“I’ll be expected to, at least for the next couple of songs.” Elain felt a strange possessiveness rush over, but she pushed the feeling down, hoping Lucien did not notice. “Go to Eris, and I’ll come in a bit.” 
Elain hummed in understanding and Lucien pulled away from her, already missing his warmth. 
One hand gripping her emerald skirts, the other still in Lucien’s, she dipped into a small curtsy. Lucien raised Elain’s hand slightly as he bowed at the waist and although he did not kiss her knuckles, as would have been common on the other side of the wall, Elain found herself wishing that he had.
With startling clarity, Elain could imagine Lucien’s lips pressed to her skin and had to suppress a shudder. Elain forced herself to turn away from her mate, taking elegant steps but still feeling the weight of his gaze on her. 
Unsettled by her own desire, Elain was surprised at how quickly she spotted Eris in the crowd of nobles. His auburn hair seemed to flicker in the flames of the fireplace he was standing by, a glass of wine in his hand. 
The musicians began to play the next song, an Autumn Court dance once more, as Elain made her way to the far end of the ballroom. 
She felt as someone came up from behind her, making her pause. “I was promised an introduction,” the voice of the man was low and thick with the accent of those in the Forest House. “Seems as though my little brother has gone back on his word.” For a moment Elain thought she had been mistaken, that Eris had instead come to her, especially when she turned around to face the person who had approached. 
Felix or Ronan, a voice reminded her, one of the two brothers Lucien had already mentioned to her. His long red hair was in a braid that fell past his shoulders, contrasting with his well-tailored jacket, the deep brown of tree trunks. He had a scattering of freckles on his cheeks, and although his dimpled smile seemed genuine, Elain was glad Eris had given her a weapon. 
“Lucien likes to keep me all to himself,” her fingers tightened around the fabric of her skirts. Remembering Lethe’s attitude, Elain raised her chin and flashed the man a sharp smile.  
Elain jumped at the chuckle that came from her other side, as another one of Lucien’s brothers clapped a broad hand on the man still in front of her. “Leave her be, Felix, I can see Eris burning holes in the back of your head.” She felt like a fawn surrounded by wolves, like she was wounded prey and they were simply taunting her before striking with a killing blow. 
Felix shrugged, the gesture elegant, reminding her once more of Eris. “I suppose we still have much time before the wedding to become better acquainted.” 
Elain wanted to take the comb from her hair, to warn them to keep away. Instead, she hoped confidence leaked from her words as she spoke. “I look forward to it, now if you’ll excuse me, my lords.” 
“No need for such formalities, sister.” Ronan added. 
Elain had to fight the urge to frown, but she merely bowed her head in a show of respect and tried to make her way as quickly as possible to Eris. He looked serious, and was left entirely alone, save for Cora who stood several feet away from him. Elain nearly sighed in relief, going to the space between them. 
“What did they say to you?” Eris asked, voice low and unbothered. He hardly seemed concerned, and Elain wondered if he actually cared about what his brothers wanted from her. 
Elain ignored his question to ask one of her own, remembering suddenly both his and Cora’s absence when Lucien and her had first arrived. “Where were you?” 
“I hardly think that should be any of your business,” he said simply while he passed her a glass of red wine. 
With gentle hands, Elain took the glass, looking up at Eris with a raised brow. “Not poisoned, is it?” 
Cora laughed, moving closer to Elain. “He wouldn’t dare.” 
Eris shrugged, amusement flashing in his eyes. “Suppose you’ll just have to trust me.” 
Elain raised the glass to her lips, surprised that she did trust Eris, at least when it came to him protecting her from physical harm. 
Before she could take a sip, Elain paused, feeling someone’s heavy gaze on her. She turned her attention to that burning feeling, almost like a warning, her new fae senses catching a watchful predator. 
Elain’s heart nearly stopped as she looked at the High Lord, surrounded by nobles, arm around his wife. 
Beron Vanserra raised his glass in a small salute as he held her gaze, and Elain raised her own, mirroring him and hoping he could not spot the nervous shaking of her hand.
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gildedmuse · 3 months
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Listen.... Trafalgar Law is like Opposite Pick Me Girl.
Evidence:
He stole Doffy's whole look down to the shirtless sluttiness, feather coat and the earrings.
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He COPIED DOFFY'S ACTIVATION METHOD. How "notice me, senpai!!" is THAT!?
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Like Doflamingo, he acts as though your attempts at torturing him are absolutely precious.
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Law straight up based his jolly roger on Doffy's. Like it's not even kinda subtle. (Not that Law does subtle. Which is weird for someone trying SO HARD to be dark, mysterious, and edge-y as Kikoku. )
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Trafalgar spent years of his life travelling around the world, gaining notoriety and power, putting into place a series of intricate moving parts that all had to come together in just the right way all so Doflamingo would notice him and remember his face forever.
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Law: Please, Young amaster-sama! Oh, please pick me!
Law: To kick your pathetic, subhuman ass.
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[Thanks to @revlischarm who gave me this idea.]
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bornchaos · 5 months
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❛ 𝙰𝙻𝙾𝙽𝙴 𝙵𝙾𝚁 𝚃𝙷𝙴 𝙷𝙾𝙻𝙸𝙳𝙰𝚈𝚂 ? 𝙼𝙰𝙳 𝙰𝚃 𝚈𝙾𝚄𝚁 𝙿𝙰𝚁𝙴𝙽𝚃𝚂 ?
i am a 21 year old ( f ) with an intense criminal record with no high school degree, and i live in a shitty apartment not fit enough for a peasant in the middle ages. i can play anywhere between the ages of 20-25. i'm a sex worker and have very flexible hours, willing to move around appointments on the odd chance a meeting clashes. if you'd like to have me as your strictly platonic date for thanksgiving, but have me to pretend to be in a very long serious relationship with you, to torment your family, i'm game. i can do these things, at your request :
openly hit on other guests, male or female, while you act like you don't notice.
start instigative discussions about politics and or/religion ( will need to know your limits, there is nothing i wont say )
propose to you in front of everyone.
pretend to be really drunk as the evening goes on ( i drink, too much in fact, my alcohol tolerance is extremely high because of it - so, trust me - i know the drill. )
start an actual, physical fight with a family member, either inside or on the front lawn for all the neighbors to see ( i can fight well, if you want to see a specific family member beaten up, i will target them - I WILL provide judgement on the day though if they're fit enough to take it , i'm crazy , not psychopathic . not looking to catch a murder charge )
i'll do whatever you want me to ; want me to offer weed to your cousin , give bad life advice to your younger siblings ? want me to act shady and plant ideas in your mom's head that i'm sleeping with your father but leaving behind no proof, shattering her self esteem ? you're the writer, i'm merely the vessel.
i'm a professional, i'm willing to get dragged off to jail for the role - so if you want to get the full effect . give you the chance to finish the show , can cry to your parents that i'm redeemable and you can fix me, that i'm worth it and you've never loved someone so much and know i can be better - a 100 dollar installment up front is being asked for fines / possible court fees , if you dont plan on letting it get that far , the only payment needed is the entertainment and the free meal .
do not contact me with unsolicited services or offers. ❜
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lorillee · 2 years
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anyways this week ive been on the hunt for a very specific brand of awful high school au with ... minimal luck. i will say i am mildly fascinated by how absolutely inescapable luffy/nami was back in the earlier days of the fandom. even more baffled by the fact that both of their personalities are butchered beyond belief in all of these - like... okay real talk if you have to completely destroy one or both of the characters in your ship to make this work... maybe....... you don't ship those characters. you ship your original characters LOL
#like idk maybe lu/na can work in some capacity im not here to judge. but WOW do these authors not understand either of these characters#like. at all#if you've never done a dive into the ffn you would probably honestly be shocked#at the sheer amount of dark! smart! different df! godlike! luffy fics#in which his harem consists of every single relevant female character#like okay you say luffy is your favorite character but in all of your fics his personality is completely reversed#maybe..... maybe you dont like luffy all that much. maybe you like your oc with luffys name and face plastered onto it#either way ive been reading a lot of. what can only be described as . shlock#but its not the brand of shlock i want#one time. one time for this one fandom. i accidentally stumbled upon the most horrifying melodramatic soap opera high school au#i have. ever ever seen. i was a bit traumatized. but unfortunately after skimming through levels of drama never known to man#and subsequently skimming through a lot of really. really boring high school aus#i have come to realize that i will likely never find anything even remotely on that level ever again#and i am. honestly mostly disappointed. not entirely because like i said it was a bit traumatizing to read. but also...... man#even more man because a few months after i found it the author deleted it and said she was going to rewrite it. but tbh i doubt it#when stuff like that happens the author gets to chapter 3 and then gives up#but either way. yeah ive been searching for that high ever since and have come away terribly disappointed#maybe this unicorn fic is hiding somehwere in the ffn and maybe im just too picky. but i will die before i read cora/law or ace/sabo/luffy
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imasimpforshanks · 10 months
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five things he says when he thinks you’re asleep
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ft. law, ace, shanks
part 1 | part 2
a/n: these have made me emotional and soft 🥲🥲🥲🥲
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law
one. sleep comes easier to me now. i think that’s because i have you next to me.
two. you have my heart. ironic isn’t it?
three. im sorry for raising my voice at you and calling you stupid, the last thing i’d ever want to do is hurt you. it’s just… when you said that you got into a bar fight with a couple of marines, my heart nearly stopped. if anything were to happen to you… i don’t know what i would do.
four. ever since cora left me i never really felt like there was any point in living… you are the one who has given me a new reason to live.
five. let’s grow old together.
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ace
one. im sorry for shutting you out again. im sorry. please don’t leave me. im sorry, im sorry, im sorry. i’ll do better, i promise. please just stay.
two. everything good in my life is all thanks to you.
three. to think you chose me. out of everyone in the world you could have been with, you wanted me? even after all this time i still can’t believe it.
four. im learning to love myself more because of you. thank you for loving the real me.
five. i’m going to marry you someday.
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shanks
one. you know, i’ve been thinking a lot lately and i’ve realized that i’d rather argue with you than laugh with anyone else.
two. im crazy about you, baby.
three. there’s no doubt in my mind that we are meant to be together. you’re it for me.
four. i know i joke around a lot and don’t take things seriously, but the one thing i will never ever joke about is how much i love you.
five. even if i have to travel from the other side of the world… if you need me, i’ll be there. nothing can stop me from getting to you.
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totheblood · 7 months
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I WISH I NEVER MET YOU.
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pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader
warnings: SUGGESTIVE mdni 18+... not sm*t but close... cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie
a/n: i love this song and was like wait... i need to write a fic based off of this song so i did that and i just love mean and spiteful ellie like... i apologize.. ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.3k
"tryna forget the seven minutes we had in heaven."
The world was spinning.
Or that was what it felt like. The tequila you had downed earlier was now starting to mix with the joint you shared with Dina earlier on her front step. She had held the nearly finished stub in between her fingers and had her other hand tracing circles on the fleshy part of your thigh. It was all innocent as you laughed about the new job she had started and her weird coworker who had asked her out a few times. It was all innocent until she mentioned Ellie and how she said she was going to stop by later that night. 
It wasn’t a party, but it wasn’t not a party. A few of your friends had gathered at Dina and Cora’s new place, a housewarming party done their way. Inside a few friends had gathered around a table playing some card game and taking shots, but you needed some fresh air and Dina had followed you. From out here you could hear the faint music coming from inside, and the streetlights made Dina’s skin look golden, but it was still early and you were already fairly drunk. 
“She said she’s coming?” you confirmed, needing to double-check that Ellie agreed to be in the same room as you. 
“Yeah,” Dina coughed, taking a deep hit of the joint, the end glowing yellow and orange, “Said she feels bad about not coming around anymore.”
“Right,” you scoffed, grabbing the joint from her and taking a deep hit, closing your eyes as you blew out the smoke. 
“Can you not do that tonight?” Dina set her face up in a pout, eyes dramatically wide, “She’s finally getting over whatever this was and I just want us to be normal again.”
“I’m not doing anything,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter, “I tried to talk to her but she didn’t want to. Not my fault.”
“But isn’t it?” Dina started. She knew she was crossing a boundary she shouldn’t, but she was also tipsy and exhausted from the standoff you and Ellie had.
She wasn’t wrong, it was technically your fault. Months ago you were at a party gathering just like this, twice as drunk as you were right now. Some idiot, probably Cora, had suggested playing 7 minutes in heaven, just like you all had done in high school. No one in the room was sober, therefore everyone agreed. 
A circle was formed in the living room, everyone sitting with their legs criss-crossed on the floor, giggling and blushing like 10th graders. One couple had decided to sit it out and watch the game from the couch. Two seats to your left sat Ellie, hair pulled back into a loose bun and her face already a bright red. She never was your closest friend, but she was still someone you talked to often. You’d occasionally Facetime, send each other TikToks, and sit next to each other if the group went out for dinner. But you were not her best friend, and she definitely wasn’t yours.
You would be lying if you said you didn’t think about her often. She had this girlish charm that usually translated as awkwardness and she would always make jokes under her breath, just loud enough for only you to hear them. You didn’t notice how red she got whenever she made you laugh like she had just won the world’s biggest prize. But besides that, she was cute. Really cute, and perpetually single. The group would often make jokes asking why she never dated anyone, and she would just make some comment about how she was waiting for the ‘right one’. Her eyes would always flicker over to you when she said that.
But this night, when she spun the bottle and it landed on you she nearly choked. You looked up at her with your doe eyes, those fucking eyes, she thought, and she nearly lost it. Everyone was laughing, clapping, and hollering at the idea of the two of you being locked in a dim closet for 7 minutes. 
“We don’t have to…” She started, preparing herself for rejection, “if you’re not comfortable.”
“Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?”
Click. 
The door locked the two of you inside the tiny room. This close to you she could smell you. She could smell the liquor coming off of you in waves mixing with vanilla perfume. There was just enough light for her to make out your features, the tip of your nose, and the crease in between your eyebrows. From this close, she could see everything.
“So…” her voice faltered, nervousness seeping into her tone, “what do we do?”
“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you whispered back, your voice immediately sending a flood to her pants.
“Do you want me to?” She whispered back, eyes searching your face and landing on your lips. You pulled your bottom lip in between your teeth, before nodding. Fuck. She took a shaky breath, her calloused fingers grazing the open skin of your waist. Her fingers were cold but your body ran hot, you were unsure if it was the alcohol or her having this effect on you. Her fingertips curled inwards, pulling you closer to her.
You were now chest to chest, both of you heavy breathing despite not having kissed yet. You were so close that she could feel your heartbeat and your tits. She gripped you a little bit harder causing you to groan. It was all so painfully slow, each movement dragged out. She dipped her head down, her lips now just hovering over yours making your eyelids flutter closed. You could feel her smile before she kissed you, as slow and languid as her movements were before.
Her lips were soft, tongue peeking through and grazing your teeth, urging them open. She was kissing your like her life depended on it. Your hands gripped at her neck, trying to pull her closer but she stumbled forward pushing you into the shelf. 
“Fuck,” she breathed in between a wet kiss, “you okay?” 
“Mhm,” You hummed. Her hand moved down now, ghosting your ass before giving it a light squeeze and lifting your thigh up so she could get even closer. If it kept going like this she was going to be inside of you within minutes. She pushed closer, her clothed cunt griding up against yours, causing you to gasp.
“Feel good?” She teased, now moving to kiss up your jaw when- 
Click.
The two of you separated, hands smoothing out your clothes as the door opened. It was obvious what had happened, a little bruise had formed on your jaw where she had kissed, and she was now wearing lipstick she didn’t come to the party wearing. 
That night you went home with her. 
You shuddered thinking of that night, not knowing it was the beginning of the end. Whatever relationship you had with her was now ruined, and it was your fault. You spent nights crying over how much of your fault it was, but that wouldn’t change anything. You ended things, and Ellie wanted nothing to do with you now. 
“I guess,” you shrugged, “but people break up every day Dina. People move on.”
It was Dina’s turn to scoff as she snatched the tiny joint back from you, “You don’t move on that easily when you’re in love with someone.”
“She was not in love with me,” you rolled your eyes again, your high making you feel anger more than anything now.
“Oh, so you’re just fucking stupid,” Dina deadpanned, taking another hit, giggling as you shoved her playfully.
“Oh, fuck you,” you laughed, trying to keep your real emotions at bay. 
“Can’t,” she laughed, blowing smoke out her nose, “Ellie would probably murder me.”
The conversation wasn’t productive, but you didn’t want to be on the front step when Ellie arrived. You feared that if she saw you, she probably wouldn’t even come to the door, let alone inside. You honestly missed her, and you were beginning to forget what she even sounded like. 
Thirty minutes had passed and you started nursing your third drink, playing beer pong in the backyard when you noticed a familiar sound. Her laugh, over everything, was the only thing you heard. 
“Oh, um I have to use the bathroom,” you excused yourself running up the stairs and straight into the kitchen where Ellie was now alone, getting a drink from the fridge. She obviously didn’t see you come in, or thought you were Dina because she was speaking. 
“You only bought Truly’s,” she scoffed from the fridge, “fucking lame.” 
“Still better than a Four Loko,” you joked. You watched her pause, her whole body stiffening before standing up straight and closing the door. She stared at the refrigerator so she didn’t have to look at you. You watched her chest rise and fall as she took deep breaths. 
“What do you want?” Her tone was much colder now, her voice icy and mean. 
“Just wanted to say hi,” your voice was small, you hated yourself for it.
“Well, don’t,” she shook her head, turning to the counter now, the hard liquor lined up in front of her. She picked up vodka, bad choice.
“Can we just-” you stepped next to her, voice in a whisper loud enough she could hear. She tensed up as you stood close to her and you hated the position you were in. 
“No, we can’t,” She shook her head, pulling a red solo cup from its place on the counter and pouring the vodka in the cup, “I told you I didn’t want to talk to you.”
“But-”
“No fucking ‘buts’. You don’t get everything you want, okay?” She looked at you now, her green eyes now accompanied by dark circles. Her freckles were more prominent with summer finally coming to an end. She looked tired, but still beautiful, “You’re so fucking selfish.”
“I’m selfish because I couldn’t date you?” You laughed bitterly, that third drink hitting you like a bag of bricks, “That’s real rich considering you’re the one who’s been an asshole to me because you can’t fuck me anymore.”
She looked pissed. Her hands gripped the sides of the counter as she looked down at it, trying to stop herself from doing what she wanted to. Instead, she downed the vodka, not even flinching.
“No one wants to fuck you,” she looked at you, eyes glossed over, “and you’re the one who dumped me over text like a fucking coward.”
You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. 
“I’m an asshole to you because I want to make it perfectly clear I want nothing to do with you. I don’t want to fuck you, I don’t want to see you, and I definitely don’t want to hear any sob story about how you ‘couldn’t’ do it. You’re a pathetic loser who broke up with me over text on our 6 month anniversary.”
“Ellie,” a voice from behind you caused you both to turn around. You wiped at the tears rolling down your face, “What the fuck?”
It was Dina, standing with her arms crossed as she watched you two in disappointment. You ran off pushing past her and into the bathroom, crying pathetically on the toilet and blowing your nose in the toilet paper. Back in the kitchen Dina had approached Ellie, an eyebrow raised as if she was waiting for an answer. 
“She just,” Ellie poured another cup, “she gets under my fucking skin, okay?”
“But talking to her like that?” She shook her head in shame, “What’s gotten into you?”
“She has!” Ellie replied, “That shit fucking hurt, okay? And I let her get away with it at first because I loved her but all she thinks is that I’m mad because I can’t fuck her. I’m over it.”
“She’s just saying that,” Dina’s voice was now more tender as she talked to Ellie, “she misses you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”
“She doesn’t fucking miss me,” Ellie downed the second cup.
“You just tell yourself that because you wouldn’t know how to feel if it was true.”
“If she missed me she wouldn’t have done that,” Ellie sighed.
“Not everything is black and white,” Dina sighed looking to the side. “Just try to get over it before the trip. It’s a really big deal to Cora and I don’t want it to be a mess because you both are so miserable.”
“I don’t think I can come, D,” Ellie shook her head, fingers tapping on the counter, “Not like this, not with her.”
“Ellie, please don’t do this,” Dina held her shoulders, her eyes wide and sad. Ellie had a soft spot for Dina, which was the only reason she came to the housewarming party, but she was unsure of how much she would take before she snapped. 
“Fine,” she sighed, “but I’ll be driving by myself. I’m not sitting in a two-hour-long car ride with her.”
“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Dina squeezed Ellie tight, making her groan and attempt to push her off. 
---
The trip came sooner than expected, the party being nearly a month ago. You drove down with Dina and Cora, singing Lana songs the whole drive. The Hamptons were quiet around this time and Cora (and her rich family) owned a vacation house out there on the water. You spent nearly every summer here, you, Dina, Cora, Ellie, Jesse, Faye, and Cora’s twin brother, Orion all crammed into their giant house. Except this time was different. This was the trip that Dina and Cora were going to announce their engagement. 
No one knew yet, and Dina had wanted your little group of friends to be the first to know. A special intimate moment between the group and the place it had started. However, when you pulled up to the house, driving up the long driveway, you saw Ellie’s jeep parked out front with her and some girl leaning against the side of the car. 
You all hopped out, but you stood to the side as you watched Dina and Cora hug Ellie and this new girl. 
“Hey guys, I hope you don’t mind,” Ellie spoke, eyes drifting to yours for a moment before she smirked, “this is my girlfriend, June.”
Fuck.
1K notes · View notes
feyascorner · 4 months
Text
2 | The Fangs Between Us
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summary. While seeing him leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you. You should hate him, truly.
But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.
You want to see him.
warnings. angst, comfort, slow burn, reader is a bard
pairing. Astarion x GN!Reader
parts. TFBU masterlist
a/n. and he finally makes an appearance;,; ik the first two chapters are a bit slow but i think i can start picking up the pace now woohoo!! Reader/Tav’s feelings are supposed to be confusing on purpose but I may have overdone it a tad,,
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He hadn’t had time to gather any of his belongings when he left. And while your other companions graciously rid of everything they could into a single box packed away in the corner of the basement, even they could not bring themselves to throw the handheld mirror away–whether because of the intricate designs framing its reflection that surely held value or because of your apprehension for throwing it out, you’re not sure. You haven’t used it yourself, too afraid of even touching its handle out of fear it may crumble away.
One of the orphan children that Cora’s harboring places a cup in front of you. You raise a brow at her, silently asking how Cora’s doing, and she only shakes her head solemnly before scurrying away.
“Where were you at the time of the murder?”
“They’ve already said numerous times where they were,” Lae’zel spits in the Flaming Fist’s direction. “Are all Fists this incompetent, or are you just a special case?”
You run a hand down your face while Gale attempts to calm Lae’zel. Shadowheart’s had her eyes trained on the cups perched around the table for quite some time now, occasionally glancing up to listen to the Fist’s interrogation. Unfortunately, the cups lack their usual alcohol, but you don’t complain about the water with how dry your throat is. You pat her shoulder, and she finally meets your eyes, nodding before resuming her focus on whatever the Fist is saying. You’re not sure yourself at this point.
“As Flaming Fists, we must put the guilty in their rightful place, regardless of whether they’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate or not,” he straightens his back, then narrows his brows at you. “And right now, all witnesses point here. You were seen leaving the tavern with a man reported as missing this morning. Care to explain that?”
You can hear Gale’s chair scrape against the floor. “You can’t be serious. They saved the entire city, for Mystra’s sake! If they wanted bloody murder, they would've been positively drenched in blood by now.”
However, all you feel is the searing stares of your other companions, who remain blissfully unaware of the encounters of your previous night. But you can tell they’re not accusing you, unlike the Fist—they never would—but rather demanding an explanation. You sigh deeply. “I didn’t go home with him. We spoke for almost two minutes before I left.”
“And what proof do you have of that?”
“Considering I woke up in the Blushing Mermaid, I’m sure you can do a little questioning there to find some witnesses,” you stand, the chairs of your leg scratching against the tiled floors. “Are we done here? I need to go speak with Cora, because her husband just died."
“Sit,” he hisses, his fingers reaching for his weapon. “I won’t repeat myself.”
The air becomes tense in mere seconds. It'd been uncomfortable moments ago, but not as much as this—not enough to make Lae’zel reach for her sword as she’s doing now. Your eyes narrow warningly into slits at the Fist, but his subordinates only step forward to stand on either side of him as if daring you to take another step. From the corner of your peripheral, you can see Shadowheart’s palm spark with light. The others occupying the Highberry household, even from outside on the patio, are talking in hushed whispers, all gazes trained on your very breath. And after a suffocating silence, you hear a chuckle from the door.
“Now, Yevir, we shouldn’t be treating our city’s most esteemed citizens with such hostility.”
Grand Duke Ravengard–Wyll’s father–steps into the home, shaking his head. The Fists, who were willing to go head to head with you mere seconds ago, are now turned and saluting the Duke, which makes Lae’zel scoff at your side. “You lot are dismissed under my name. Though I do have a word to exchange with the bard.”
Former bard, you want to correct him.
Your companions exchange an apprehensive glance at one another before you step forward. “And what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with the Duke?”
“You jest. We are all allies here,” he smiles. ���Come, we must speak privately.”
You grin wickedly at Yevir as Ravengard steps past you toward the office in one of the other rooms. Yevir only shoots knives with his eyes, and you return the sentiments by sticking out your tongue mockingly, which earns a snort from Shadowheart. Then you quickly follow after Ravengard, shutting the door behind you.
“Have you had any news from my son?” he asks, facing the window with two arms locked behind him.
“Karlach’s been sending a few letters. They’re limited, as you might expect, but they do come,” you say. “She says Wyll is doing alright. They both are.”
He lets out a breath that can’t be mistaken for anything but what it is: relief. “Good. Now, as for what went down between you and Yevir in the other room, I apologize on his behalf. He’s always been too passionate for his own good. Righteousness is admirable, but not when it blinds your judgment.”
“A lot of things can blind judgment. I don’t blame him.”
He turns to you, and despite the questioning gaze in his eyes, he ignores it. “I’m sure you’re well aware of what’s been occurring in the city—you recently received a first-hand experience.”
“So has half the people on the block, apparently.”
“I’m not talking about Cora’s husband.”
He reaches behind his back, pulling out a slim file and holding it to you. “The number of victims is increasing every day now.”
Flipping through the pages in the file, each one is etched with the murder scene of each victim. There’s one with a man haphazardly buried half in the ground, another with a woman collapsed next to the alleyway in Wyrm’s crossing, another of a man bleeding out in the fields of Rivington. You flip the pages again and again until you arrive at one you would’ve preferred to forget.
“Colin Hedgins,” Ravengard says. “Though most of the Fist, including Yuvir, is unaware, his body was found this morning.”
His silvery hair is stained with what you can only assume is blood. His face, which is stretched in horror, makes you wonder if maybe slitting his throat yourself would have given him a more peaceful leave to the afterlife. Not that he really deserved it. You swallow hard, shutting the file away. “So you think I killed him too?”
“No. In fact, I’m sure you didn’t.”
“Then why show me this? This is classified information, no?”
“Each one of these victims has one similarity aside from their brutal deaths,” he frowns. “The puncture wounds on their neck, and the fact that their bodies seem to be drained of blood.”
Your breath hitches. While you’d had your suspicions, surely not all of them could have been of vampires? With Orin and the Bhaal worshippers now defeated or retreated into the shadows, the city had gotten eons safer—this just felt like a slap to your face. One group of murderers after another, it seemed. Instead of replying, you stare at Ravengard with pursed lips, urging him to get to his point.
“Wyll has told me of your relations with the vampires,” he says, and it makes your teeth clench. “He was gone by the time I’d joined your camp, but Wyll tells me you had a vampire for a companion for most of your journey. Could he be involved in-”
“No.” The answer is fast. Almost instant. And while a part of you feels disgusted for defending him, even now, another part refuses to let you live while the city thinks of him as nothing but a bloodsucking monster. Even if everyone thought of him as one now. “He wouldn’t have.”
The worst part is that he fully could have, even if you don't want to believe it. Your mind flashes back to the way his hands had felt around your throat, and for a moment, you can’t breathe.
Ravengard’s expression softens, and you see it again. Pity. Gods, you’d do anything to never see that kind of face again. “I’m also aware that you two had an—-arrangement. One that involved more than just mere friendship. But you must know if we cannot catch the vampire spawns that are running rampant in our city, dozens if not hundreds of more people will die.”
You want to tell him that he should not search for sympathy in you. Because you were once a person willing to get rid of 7000 spawns for the sake of one lover, who only ended up trying to kill you. “He won’t talk to me anyway. I’m sure you also know he didn’t leave on good terms, seeing as you seem to know everything about my love life. I can’t help you.”
The words come out snappier than expected, but Ravengard doesn’t react like he expected this.
“I see,” he says. “Then perhaps you’ll at least be able to keep an eye out. And please, report to me.”
You don’t budge.
He takes it as a sign to leave and moves toward the door. “If you do change your mind, let me know.”
You want to tell him your future is not a matter of what you want. It’s what he wants, and he’s already chosen your fate.
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“And is anyone else aware that an entire horde of vampire spawn is living under the city?” Shadowheart says in exasperation. “No wonder they think Astarion’s the one who did it. They think there aren’t any more vampires here anyway! With that many vampires, imagine what destruction they could bring if they miss a few meals!”
“Surely we can convince our sharp-toothed friends to lay low in the Underdark with the others for a while? We convinced half of them. I don’t see why we can’t convince the other,” Gale suggests.
“A warrior who seeks blood shall have blood,” Lae’zel hisses. “I see no reason for them to leave. If I’d been a spawn, I would stay behind a city full of cattle than return to a place of eternal darkness.”
Your head hurts. From continuously sleeping anywhere but the comforts of your bed or from what’s going on, you don’t know, and you don’t care. You just want a nice long bath to wash the dirt on your face and a hot meal to go along with it. Your companions continue arguing, and it’s times like these when you wish Wyll and Karlach were still traveling beside you—they were usually the diffusers of the group.
To an extent, you had been too. Not anymore, though. That was the least of your worries.
“Why must we fix Astarion’s mess in the first place?” Lae’zel adjusts the sword she’d been cleaning on her lap. “We are not dogs to do his bidding. And from what I recall, we have no longer relations with him.”
This finally urges you to speak, almost instinctively. “We have to help. That’s final.”
It's not often that you reinforce your power as the appointed "leader" of the group, preferring to incorporate their opinions rather than choosing all on your own. They all turn to you with a mixture of suspicion and mostly cringe from Lae’zel. Your face flares in response. “I’m just saying we can’t just let a bunch of innocent people die!”
“Of course,” Gale coughs.
You can feel yourself losing your composure, your palms feeling clammy. Still, you straighten your back. “Astarion has nothing to do with me either. I’m doing this for the city.”
“Right.”
You opt to just clear your throat. “I’ll talk to Petras. We’ll figure out a way for all of us to be happy.”
Lae’zel rolls her eyes, but Shadowheart only raises a brow. “And how exactly are you going to find Petras? It’s not like he has a mailbox or an address.”
“I’ll figure it out. Always do,” you smile, and her face softens. “In the meanwhile, I’ll have to rely on you guys to pick up my work for rebuilding the city so I can focus on tracking him down. I don’t think it’ll take too long—maybe a week or so.”
Gale’s face knits together in concern. “And you’re quite sure you won’t need any of us to accompany you?”
“They’re fully capable of taking care of themselves, wizard,” Lae’zel snaps. “Very well, then. We’ll await good news.”
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Looking back on it, perhaps you did need the help.
Days upon days of searching, yet nothing. You’re sure you covered almost half the sewers at this point, and you’re not sure if you’re just insanely unlucky or the vampires just left while you’d been searching elsewhere.
But the number of deaths says otherwise. 
So you’d turned to a new approach. If you couldn’t find them, you’d let them find you.
The days stretch longer, with the city being in its summer season. And while you’re grateful, since it means vampires will have less time to hunt, you always despise the way this cloak is sticking to your skin and the hairs that seem glued to your cheeks with the hood stifling any hope of breathing freely. Still determined, you force your legs forward into the darkest alleyways you can find.
Though you’ve had a few fruitless days, pacing aimlessly throughout the city during the dead of night into early morning, a part of yourself keens at the moonlight draping over you tonight.
It had been on a night like this, one where the clouds make way for the moonglow to illuminate what lurks in the city during the night. Though at the time, instead of the comfortable bed in the house you and your companions managed to buy after scraping enough gold together, you were sleeping on a bedroll that did little to shield you from the rocks, doing nothing to even the ground below.
Back then, your companions were nothing but that—companions on a journey you hoped to end as quickly as possible to return to the taverns and bars of Baldur’s gate, where you would spend your nights singing the familiar tunes that your patrons enjoyed most. So after the camp celebration with the Tieflings, when Astarion led you to the forest clearing where you first felt skin other than your own, you realized this adventure of yours was more than just that. It was a new stepping stone in your life.
He’d held you close to him, offering you whispers of affection while his hands ran through your hair. He’d kissed you, his hands caressing either side of your cheek. He’d let you marvel at the scars on his back, his hands resting on your waist.
The same hands that wrapped around your throat months later. You can still feel them sometimes.
Despite your speech to Gale before Cora’s husband showed up dead, you weren’t sure how you would react if you ever saw your former lover again. On nights that weren’t plagued with nightmares, you stayed up, wondering if you’d cry. If you’d reach out for him, embracing him in a hug you never wanted to let go from. If you’d let him brush his knuckles on your cheeks, if you’d let him press a kiss to your forehead, if you’d let him love you again.
You weren’t sure. And a part of you—the part shoved deep inside the corners of your heart—wonders if never seeing him again was a blessing. That regardless of the ache in your heart now, never seeing him would save you from something worse.
So deeply lost in your thoughts, you barely notice the murky figure swinging a pipe at your head.
Nearly scathing the surface of a concussion, you dodge, but he’s too fast. Before you’ve even begun reaching for your knife, the figure swings you toward the wall, and you swear you can hear it crack as your back collides with it. Your vision only manages to straighten itself once the figure has you shoved onto the ground, either of their knees on the sides of your hip. 
Instinctively, your hand flies up to stab at their arm, but you’re no match. They twist your wrist, forcing you to drop the blade, and pins either of your arms to the ground. You can’t see anything but the glint of their fangs against the light.
You’d fought vampires before, and you had never seen one so fast. So aggressive. So primal. Astarion had entertained you with friendly spars, but you’d also fought Cazador to the death. Even he hadn’t been this fast.
“I just want to talk to Petras! I’m not going to hurt you, I–” Your pleas go deaf on their ears.
When you squint, you can finally see the blood staining their fangs, and you realize that they’ve already fed.
They’re fed, and they’re still hungry.
A fed vampire, is a strong one, you remember. And if you add their hunger on top of that...
Even as you try to yank yourself away, they only squeeze their grip harder, enough to cut off blood circulation. The color drains from your face, your expression almost fearful. No, it does scare you. It scares you that this is only a spawn, but they can still attack someone so ferociously. It scares you that Astarion could have done the exact same thing to you.
The spawn yanks your head to the side with a claw on your hair, allowing them access to your throat. You thrash and kick, but to no avail, forced to watch as they’re about to sink their teeth into you. You hate your mind because even at death’s door, all you can think about is him.
Is this what he would’ve done to you had your companions not been there to save you?
Is this what he wanted to do the day he first approached you, asking for your blood?
Anger burns in your chest, and with the last bit of your strength, you lift your head and bite them first. Your teeth sink into their throat, feeling the break of skin just before they rip you away, wailing in pain as you’re carelessly tossed to the ground. As they grasp at the wound on their neck, you take the opportunity to lunge for your knife.
You feel genuine rage for the first time in what feels like forever. No self-pity, no dejection, no sorrow for losing the man you’d given everything to, but rage for the state you were reduced to just because of him. And that while his leaving tore you apart from the inside and out, he chose not to see you. He decided what the end of your relationship would be without ever stopping to ask you.
You thrust the blade into their chest, and they stop. It’s no stake, but it’ll do for now. And as their throat gurgles with blood, all you can hear is the desperate panting of your own breath when their body falls to the ground, face first. 
You pray they’re dead.
Then, your vision in one eye blurs with red. When you lift your hand to your forehead, you feel the warm blood trailing down, probably from when you collided with the wall. The little strength left in your legs vanishes as you reel forward, your knees crashing onto the mud beside the spawn.
Though you thankfully manage to collapse on your back rather than your poor counterpart who’s probably choking on the dirt and grim of the city grounds even in death, you can feel your head going light, even as your hands tighten around the knife laying on your chest. You greet the moon again, this time with a breathy laugh.
Seluné must be smiling back at you, surely.
You’re not sure who’s standing above you when you open your eyes again, being only seconds away from entirely blacking out. But you think it must be an angel, with his snow-white curls and how he revels under the veil of the moon. You want to reach out to him, but your shaky arm says otherwise.
He’s beautiful, you think, even if you can’t make out his face.
You hope the angel doesn’t pity you.
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Apparently, heaven is at Elfsong Tavern. You’d imagined being greeted with the smell of roses and a fresh stream rather than the overwhelming stench of booze, but you suppose it’s fitting considering how you’d died in a puddle of what you assume to be a concoction of cat piss and your own blood.
No, that can’t be right.
Looking around frantically, you lurch forward, the sweat and mud sticking your hair to your skin. Multiple pairs of eyes bore into you. You’re slumped in the tavern's kitchen, several Fist soldiers peering at you curiously. And finally, you manage to make out Shadowheart, whose hands are hovering over you with a gentle glow.
“Lay back down, I’m almost done,” she frowns.
You ignore her request. “The spawn! I’m not sure if they’re dead–”
“Never mind that,” she snaps. “They found you blacked out on the ground next to a dead body and a broken wall. What in bloody hell happened last night? Do you know how much it scared us when the damn Fists were banging at our door at 4:30 in the morning?”
Your head spins, and you clutch at your head. “Got ambushed. I tried to talk to them, but apparently, they just wanted a midnight snack.”
“Heavens above,” she breathes. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
“No, I was so close, Shadowheart,” you shake your head frantically, smearing at the mud still plastered on your face. “I’ll be more prepared next time. If I manage to just capture one of the spawn alive, I could ask them where Petras is-”
There’s a loud yell from the hatch leading to the basement. Your head whips in its direction, then to Shadowheart, staring at her inquisitively.
She sighs, finally lowering her hands to her side. “Look, I need you to listen to me very closely. As your friend, I can’t have you losing your composure in front of the Duke downstairs. They’re in the hideout, but they’re also with–”
You hear Gale’s voice holler. “You’re the only one who knows them well enough, Astarion!”
Suddenly, your blood runs cold. While Shadowheart tries to keep you still, nothing can stop you as you yank the hatch open, sprinting downstairs. You run through the secret entrance to the hideout, your mind racing rapidly with words you can’t even decipher because they’re going by so fast. You want to hide away and barge into the room simultaneously, and the pounding of your head does nothing to help.
You're different now, you assure yourself. A part of you hates him for what he did, and you're willing to act on this hatred. You won't be passing out on the street, drunk on the pit of isolation he left behind, praying he'd appear from thin air and assure you things are fine. You're better now, and you did it all without his help.
But as soon as you swing open the door, you only have one dying wish.
You want to see him.
The room is cold–empty, except for three figures alongside two more guards standing at the door. Ravengard, standing at one end of the circular table, has his arms crossed, brows knitted together comprehensively. Gale, who had been pacing back and forth around the room, freezes instantly when he sees you. So does everyone else.
“Ah, and here comes the star of the show.” You haven’t heard his voice in so long. It almost feels foreign.
Standing between the other men on either side of the table, Astarion’s eyes bore into you, lips curled in a grin barely showing off his fanged teeth. When you lock eyes, yours grows wider as you take him in.
He looks almost the same. The same curly white hair, the same blood-red eyes, and the same smile that once brought you joy yet now only fueled the endless longing of your nightmares. While you expect yourself to feel anger, relief, or shock, all you feel is the rapid beating of your heart, your mind void of everything besides how uncomfortable the dried mud feels on your face. Your breath hitches as he lifts a finger to the side of his head. Only then do you also feel the warm liquid sliding down your cheek.
“You’re bleeding, darling.”
With the inevitable urge to barf up nothing from your empty stomach, you're back to being the same person as you were four months ago.
Tags: @ayselluna @littleenglishfangirl @bg3obsessedsideblog @iwillpissyourpants @cyberpr1m3 @ukeia-uchiha @snowlotr @road-riot @spacekidnova
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ladykailitha · 4 months
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Staking My Claim Part 1
Hello! Because of my flu, I've been working on low stakes stuff to help with my foggy head. I promise this week to be back on to the WIPs I have going to be build up my backlog again.
This started off as a silly "let the boys be goofy" and turned into a "found family with ONE goofy moment in it". Sorry about that. I blame the cough medicine honestly.
***
Eddie and his friends were enjoying a rare night where they didn’t have to play at Cora’s Den in Indy when it happened.
Now, Cora’s Den wasn’t gay bar per se, but as it was one of the most inclusive places in Indy, the normies considered it one.
So when he came back from going to the bathroom he leaned into the center of their table so he could whisper. “Tell me that’s not Steve Harrington at the bar in a crop top and cutoffs.”
All three of his friends turned to the bar as one.
Gareth smacked his lips. “As much as I would love to, man, no can do.”
“And is he really flirting with that dude?” Eddie asked with a wince.
Jeff raised an eyebrow. “I’m seriously doubting that. Looks like Stevie could use a rescue.”
Eddie turned and looked over. Sure enough the guy that had been flirting with Steve had been replaced by a new guy. And one that didn’t look like he was getting the hint to fuck off.
“Go on,” Brian said. “You know you want to. He’s clearly got a thing for the guys and you might even get laid for the first time in months.”
Eddie nodded curtly and slapped the table. “Right.”
*
Steve was having a good time until this guy came along. He just wouldn’t take no for answer. He wasn’t looking to go home with anyone. His parents had just blown out of town again and Steve was looking for a way to blow off some steam. Relax after the last week of sheer exhaustion of dealing with them and their judgments. He usually went with Robin so that people would leave them alone. Only she had the late shift tonight and the early shift in the morning.
He was going to wait until the weekend when they could both go and have fun, but Robin insisted that he go, otherwise he’d be moping around Family Video all week. So he came out tonight, not really out to get drunk, or laid, just to have a good time.
This was not that.
Suddenly an unopened bottle of his favorite beer was being pressed into his hand as a warm arm wrapped around his waist.
“There you are, baby,” a soft voice cooed. “Sorry I’m late, work was a nightmare.”
Steve let himself relax into the man’s side. “I’m just glad you made it, Eds.”
Eddie grinned at him. “I swear old man Thacher is getting worse in his old age.”
Steve laughed. “I know, right? I went in for an oil change and he berated me for twenty minutes on why couldn’t I just do it myself.”
Eddie frowned. “Don’t you have a BMW that requires a special oil?”
Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yup!”
Eddie turned to look at the guy who was standing there with his mouth open. “Are you still here?”
The guy bristled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I was here first.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Steve said, straightening up, but still remained plastered to Eddie’s side. “Eddie Munson. Lead singer and guitarist for Corroded Coffin. You know, the band that plays here every weekend?”
“Yup,” Eddie lied easily. “So where’s Birdie tonight? Working the late shift?”
“Ha!” the man snapped. “That’s not his friend’s name. His friend’s name is Robin! I knew you were a fake.”
Eddie blinked at him as if the man had grown three heads. “Robin Buckley. Robin is a bird. Bird plus Buckley, ergo Birdie. I have nicknames like that for all my friends. And any friend of Stevie’s is a friend of mine.”
Steve rubbed his nose along Eddie’s jaw affectionately. “And how did you know what her name was?” he asked, not even looking at the guy. “I don’t think I recall seeing you around before.”
The man’s face paled and he turned on his heel, storming off in a huff.
“Thanks for that,” he murmured into Eddie’s ear. “I’m usually pretty good at getting assholes to lay off, but he wouldn’t take no for answer.”
“Your inner mean girl couldn’t make him go away?” Eddie whistled. “That is persistent.”
Steve giggled. Then he blushed and looked down. That was when he remembered the drink in his hand. “So what’s with the unopened beer?”
“I didn’t want you to think I was another creep by bringing you an open bottle.”
Steve looked up at him and blinked a couple of times. “Wow, you really are my knight in leather armor tonight.”
Eddie took the bottle and popped it open with his bulky ring on his middle finger. “There you go.”
“That was so hot,” Steve said stupidly.
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Duly noted.”
*
Steve was invited back to their table and had an absolute blast.
He was coming back from the bar with a couple of drinks in his hands when someone bumped into him, almost making him spill the drinks.
“Hey, watch it!” he hissed.
Immediately Eddie was at his side in an instant.
“You okay?” he asked taking a couple of the drinks from him.
“Yeah,” Steve groused. “Just some asshole not watching where he was going. I didn’t even get a drop on my shoes.”
Eddie snickered. “Yeah, okay. You and your jock reflexes.”
Steve leaned over and whispered, “I’m also very flexible in bed.”
“As in top or bottom or are we talking positions?” Eddie asked, running his tongue over his bottom lip slowly.
“Both.”
Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “No need to go so hard, baby. I was already wanting to take you home with me tonight.”
“What about your friends?” Steve asked grinning back. “It sounded like you all share the apartment.”
“We have a signal for if we bring anyone back,” Eddie assured him. “Also we know to keep it down because the apartment walls are thin and not just inside the apartment.”
Steve’s mouth formed an O. “I got you.”
He knew there were pros and cons to living in an apartment. Having your neighbors that close were definitely a con.
“You still living at home?” Eddie asked as they made their way through the crowd.
Steve nodded. “Yeah. It’s not like my parents are ever there. Though it would just be my luck that they’d come home while I’m out the queerest bar in Indy.”
“Not a fan of queers?” he asked once they reached the table.
“They’re fans of Reagan,” Steve said with a grimace. “I’m pretty sure that automatically puts them on the opposing team.”
The entire table recoiled in sympathy.
“Fuck, that’s harsh!” Jeff said. “Thankfully my parents aren’t Reagan supporters, though they have raised many an eyebrow at Eddie here.”
Eddie face turned into a feral grin.
Brian shrugged. “My parents don’t care as long Eddie doesn’t shove it down their throats.”
Steve rolled his eyes. That old nugget. Walking down the street holding hands with someone of the same gender was shoving it down their throats as far as they were concerned.
Gareth looked at his friends wide eyed. “Um...sucks to be you guys I guess, but my parents adore Eddie, don’t mind him or I being gay and threatened to sue the school over the devil worshiping allegations about our D&D club. So...”
“Three cheers for the Hughes family!” Eddie said.
They all cheered and clanked their glasses together. They downed their drinks and roared with unrestrained joy.
Steve could feel a rush of blood around his ears. The room faded in and out and it sounded like Eddie and his friends were under water. He staggered off his stool and nearly stumbled to the floor.
Then the world went black.
***
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6
Also I'm not sure if this post canon or no monster AU. I can't decide, but it's ambiguous either way.
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spacebaby1 · 4 months
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MY MAMA (Child!Law Trafalgar & Mom!Reader)
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"STOP IT," Law yelled at you "YOU ARE NOT MY MOM AND YOU WILL NEVER BE." Law pushed past you running to his room and you stood up and grabbed on Corazon's wrist when he called for Law.
"No, don't yell at him" You said stopping your husband from walking. "B-But sweetheart, he can't yell at you like that. He can't talk to you like that-"
"Yes, he can" you smiled a little, "he's my son, isn't he?" Corazon nodded looking down, he felt hopeless, "then let him cool down, Darling. I can handle his words, let him yell, scream or throw hands at us" you chuckled gently lifting your husband's chin, "He'll calm down soon, just please don't yell at my boy."
Corazon sighed at your words, how could you be so sweet to his boy after all he had said to you today and how he treated you. But, as an neglected child you easily understood Law's emotions; he is just a kid.
Corazon decided to make the dinner tonight so you agreed to fold the clean clothes, after putting the clothes away in the drawer you noticed the small picture album you owned, it had pictures from your school. So you sat down to go through it but from the side of your eyes you noticed someone peeking from the doorframe, it was Law. He tried to hide but you had seen him, with a smile you titled to side so now you could full see him, "Hey, you. Did you need anything?" You smiled Gentle as always.
"C-Can I come in?" He asked almost in a small voice. "Sure, Sweetie. Come sit beside me." You tapped the floor beside you and he did as you told him still not looking you in the eye.
"Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you a snack?" He shook his head and mumbled something under his breath, "Huh?" He turned towards you and you could see his eyes were glossy, and your heart dropped; was he crying?
"Law? Sweetie were you crying? Your eyes are puffy. What's wrong are you not feeling well?" The concern that you showed made the gilt Law felt run wild in his little head. His lips quivered as he just looked at you hoping for you to understand his tears and how sorry he was yelling all those words at you, he fell into your arms without warning, "It's okay, Sweetie, whatever it is, we'll fix it, what's wrong? Tell me? Want me to get your Cora-San?" He shook his head in your embrace, "Okay, Sweetcheek, Not calling for Cora-San." You rubbed his back, "there there, I'm here for you," you placed your head on his as he cried and cried till he couldn't anymore.
"You okay?"
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said earlier, that wasn't very kind. I shouldn't have said that to you, I'm so sorry, I'm very very sorry. I just don't know how to explain it," he looked down at his fingers, "it's not an excuse no it shouldn't be."
You were confused, "What is Law? Did someone said something to you at school, you can tell us anything." He pulled at his hat before speaking, "it's my fault for yelling at you b-but I-uhh my teacher s-she well she-"
"Law did you teacher say something to you? Did she hit you?" You were getting scared and angry but not at Law, never at him. He shook his head to which you calmed down, and he spoke again, "She didn't do- well- today is mother's day." Oh, you said nothing.
"T-the teacher gave us each a flower and she said "give it to your mother" as a gift, a-and I didn't cry but I felt sad and I didn't like that feeling so I got angry at you, I'm sorry I didn't mean to be mean to you like that, you are kind to me and you cook my favourite food a-and I yelled at you." He was crying again in your arms, you just hugged him, apparently your old school never stopped with this tradition you chuckled. "Don't cry, it's okay to feel like that Law, I know how you feel, trust me it's okay."
He pulled away to look at you, "H-How?", you smiled and whipped his tears, "When I was few years younger than you, my mama and papa separated. I was too young to understand why I just knew they didn't want me because they left me with my nana, and I went to the same school as you when I was your age, my teache used to do the Same. Every mothers day they would give us a flower to give to our mama's but I didn't have one," you smiled to stop your own tears, "so I used to give them to nana and tell her that it was a gift." Law blinked at you, "y-your mom didn't like you?" He asked "but why?" You shrugged, "sometimes people change but that doesn't mean I am alone, yes I was for most of my childhood but I am happy now, I have you, your Cora-San. You are my family, and I love you more than a mother can love her child because I see you as my own, and I am not mad at you for yelling at me at all, you call speak your heart out with me and I will always be there for you, sweetheart."
Law's lips quiver as he fell in your arms crying again before you noticed Corazon was standing by the door crying his eyes out when he heard your words, he too jumped to hug you as they both cried in your arms, you chuckled blinking the tears away, "Stop crying you big baby" you told Corazon but he only cried harder, "I love you so much." He said crying and you laughed at them both for being alike.
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luxthestrange · 5 months
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OP Incorrect quotes#24 Daddy is single!
Kindergarten Teacher au
Teacher!Corazon*Watching you with a lovestruck gaze...not seeing he spilled grape juice all over his white shirt when he saw you being tugged by the girls to brush their hair into different styles*Heheh~
Law(6)*Already cleaning the juice off him with a deadpanned face at his father* Miss Y/n Dad had another clumsy accident! can you bring him his backup apron and shirt!
Teacher!Y/n*Blinks after finishing doing pigtails on baby 5 hair and smiles going off to do that*
Law(6):...When they come back do you want me to slyly mention your single?
Teacher!Corazon*Blushes and shakes his head* Plea-Please do not do that!?
Law(6): You won't even notice-
Teacher!Y/n*Handing him the spare change from the teacher's lockers*Here you go Cora!~I can watch over the class-
Law(6): Dad is single
Teacher!Y/n*Blinks and looks confused*What?...
Teacher!Corazon*Picking him up and covering his mouth with a nervous laugh and avoiding eye contact*-IGNORE HIM HAAHA!YOU KNOW HOW KIDS ARE-
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Corazon is your clumsy...but very sweet co-worker who has two kids of his own going to school,With his face he wins over several mothers married or single...even fathers-But he truly wins over the kids with his prone to accidents and bad luck...he just accepts it and is happy to see the laughs and smiles of the children...But when asked about his family life he manages to avoid the topic...what is he hiding?...
Part 2 of:
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willowbelle · 4 days
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Heart Sleeves
❤︎ rosinante (corazon) x reader ❤︎
𖤐₊˚.༄ (fluff) 𖤐₊˚.༄
(written with fem reader in mind, but no pronouns mentioned)
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cw: fluff, established relationship, kissing, size-difference.
summary: you wake up to cora baking in silence.
word count: ~900
author's note: i don't know why, but cora strikes me as a baker, hehe. and so, this cute lil scenario was born. been going thru it so i needed something sweet. :')
tagging: @fanaticsnail @bby-deerling @shamblespirate @maddddstuff @lowkeycasanova @stuckinthewrongworld @laylaloves-ed @leftladyluminary
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Heart Sleeves
Cora rolls up his sleeves before pressing his hands into the floury dough on the countertop. His movements are deliberate as he shapes the batter into spheres and places them inches apart on a baking tray. His focus is evident in his furrowed brow and the quiet hum of concentration that fills the kitchen. 
You walk in, still shaking off the remnants of sleep, the early morning light casting a soft glow around you. Your eyes are bleary, but the image of Cora working draws you in. He's absorbed in his task, his hands moving with calm precision as he shapes the dough on the countertop. You pause, too tired to speak, just smiling as you watch him work. He hasn't noticed you yet, so you simply lean against the doorframe, enjoying the peaceful moment and the soothing aroma of baking bread. 
And then, it dawns on you--the room is completely silent. Cora, being the kind-hearted man you know him to be, must’ve muted the noise with a thoughtful mutter of silence, as to not disturb your much-needed slumber.
You linger in the doorway, enveloped in the quiet intimacy of the moment. The scent of fresh dough mingles with the gentle warmth of the morning, creating a cocoon of tranquility. Cora continues his work, his big hands moving fluidly over the dough.
As you watch, your smile deepens. The love and care he puts into every touch are clear to you, a silent testimony to his thoughtfulness. 
The calm of the room lulls you further into a state of peace, and you let your eyes close for a moment, savoring the serenity that surrounds you. But soon, the comforting rhythm of Cora’s work stirs a desire within you to be closer.
With a gentle push off the doorframe, you walk silently toward him. As you approach, you gently wrap your arms around his waist from behind, resting your cheek against his back. He finally notices your presence and looks down at you with a soft smile. His focus shifts to a touch of warmth and tenderness as he pauses his work, brushing a floured hand up and down your intertwined arms.
He tilts his head slightly, his voice gentle as he murmurs a pensive, "Did I wake you?" His concern is evident, even in his quiet tone.
You respond with a soft shake of your head, a reassuring smile playing on your lips. "No, not at all," you say, your voice a quiet murmur. "I was drawn in by the smell of what you're making.”
You hold him a little tighter, relishing the warmth of his touch and the comforting rhythm of his work. "I just wanted to watch you for a moment," you add.
Cora chuckles softly, his floured hands leaving gentle imprints on your arms as he turns to face you. With a smooth motion, he lifts you up effortlessly and places you on the counter, so you're closer to his impressive height.
The cool touch of the countertop beneath you is a stark contrast to the warmth of his hands. It’s a bit jarring, sends a shiver down your spine, but before your body can even react, the warmth is returned, this time with a tender touch of his hand to your cheek.
Your heart quickens as he leans in, his gaze tender and full of affection. His touch lingers for a moment before he gently kisses you, a sweet, lingering moment that seems to encapsulate the tranquility of the space around you. 
As the kiss deepens, you feel the gentle pull of his embrace, his other arm wrapping around your waist, holding you close. His arms are strong and secure, keeping you grounded. 
His touch is gentle, his fingers lightly tracing your skin with a feather-like touch, as if you were made of delicate glass. As you gaze up at him, his imposing frame strikes you, a testament to his strength and power—he seems as though he could consume you whole. 
Yet, his warmth and gentleness is a stark contrast to his size, cradling your cheek with a tender caress that chases away any lingering chill; a lighthearted soul nestled within the body of a giant.
You savor the unexpected juxtaposition of his strength and tenderness, feeling completely at ease in his embrace. His lips press against yours once more, with a quiet, lingering passion, leaving you breathless and warm.
His hand shifts from your cheek to the nape of your neck, his touch soothing and secure. You find comfort in his closeness, the rise and fall of his chest calming your own breath. His playful soul shines through in the twinkle of his eyes, an energy that dances between you both.
As he pulls back from the kiss, his smile is gentle, full of affection. He lets out a low, contented hum, and you know he is just as lost in the moment as you are. You stay in his embrace, feeling his hands roam down your back, tracing gentle patterns that make your skin tingle.
Cora leans in closer, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face before murmuring a sweet, quiet, 
"Maybe I should start baking every morning if it means waking up to kisses like that."
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sashi-ya · 1 year
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[𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 ✦ +𝟏𝟖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ]
✦ requested by Anonymous for the free requests ➜ Sash! have you ever wrote an n sfw alphabet for Law? if not, can you do it? thank you 💞 ➜ never wrote these alphabets so I will try! I hope you enjoy 💖 ✦ alphabet template by @the-coldest-goodbye ✦ tw: mentions of kinks. toys. masturbation. minors dni. ✦ masterlist
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Law is a doctor, so he will take care of any of your physical necessities with utmost care. He will ask precise questions to assess you and know your status. Once that’s out of the way, he will lay on his bed with spread arms inviting you to cuddle right over his chest. A man of few words, but loving acts. His hand will go up and down through your back and even some butterfly kisses will be given if you crawl with your head up in search for his lips. He enjoys peace and silence. Relaxing after an intense session is what he likes to do the most.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
His fave body part has to be his chest. Law loves to show off how proud he is of his Cora-san’s legacy. Kiss and trail a path with your finger tips on top of his tattooed heart, you will have him melt under your sweet touch.
His fave body part from you has to be your belly. Law enjoys placing kisses and rest his cheeks on top of it. He is specially in love to bulges, so if you have one (or he creates one with uh… you know) be prepared to be double praised.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
Law is a very intelligent man and that includes a healthy relationship with contraceptives. He will wear condoms most of the times to take care of you and him as well. However, if the relationship has reached higher trust levels, he will tend to go raw. Is not that he wouldn’t love to stuff you like a thanksgiving turkey (in fact, is all he wants to do) but he is a very responsible man if you can bear children. He has to make sure you are ok with it and in which place both are in terms of pregnancy possibilities.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
He was the one who stole your pair of panties. Yes, those you couldn’t find anymore when you joined his crew. The ones you thought flew away while letting them dry on that island. Those, those are Law’s One Piece. (Perhaps he has even tried them on more than once…)
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Not really experienced. He hasn’t got intimate with many people before. Being a pirate like him, and especially since he was focused on his plans didn’t let him have much free time to meet and date other people. In any case, he wasn’t really interested in hooking up. He, however, knows very well how to treat your body. He has study anatomy to perfection and so Law knows exactly what and how to touch you. Plus, as he is a very intelligent man he probably loves to do some “research” (meaning videos, too). He will be prepared, and he will learn along with you.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
You against the wall or bowed against his desk. Law loves to top you, pull from your head and be able to inspect your entrances before burying deep into you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Well, he is pretty serious and most of the times it comes as a way to cope with his own shyness. But he will scoff and smirk as you moan his name or plead for more.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
Short, well-groomed hair. Pubic hair is there for a reason, and it’s healthy. So, he will have it perfectly trimmed. Also, it connects with a happy trail that goes from the little bump under his belly button towards his pelvic area. (Also, he has a tattoo on his right side. It goes with the same style as the rest of his body, and hell it is sexy as fuck. He loves it for you to kiss it)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
As mentioned before, he is not really interested in hook ups or one-night stands, meaning that he needs to have a real connection to be intimate. Being romantic is not his forte, he is not a person that would recite poems nor very sweet things. However, he has his own way of showing you how much he loves you. Of course he will whisper about it, probably when both are about to reach climax. But his romanticism shows in terms of actions; protecting you with his life or taking care of you. Also, placing little kisses before and after intercourse.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
He has a healthy relationship with masturbation. Whenever he gets hard he will search for you. However, if he happens to be alone and you are out of reach… well, that’s when he will rely on his hand. And mind you, he loves it. I think he is the type to overly stimulate himself with the palm of his hand grazing his gland when he is about/he just came.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
Law is a little bit of a sadist (we all know that) I think he is probably into bd/sm related practices but maybe not so much into physically hurting his lover. The most “pain” you could experience is by your wrists and ankles being tied. He would, however, love to make you beg and plead for more. Law would enjoy overstimulating you, and I see him as a man who would love to play in the dark with you. Not just blindfolding you, but both unable to see, relaying only in the memories of your bodies and the sensations you can experience when sudden touches explore each other’s skins.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Anywhere you and him feel comfortable. Law doesn’t need fancy beds to fuck you. He loves his office specifically and also to pin you against the big glass wall of his room when the Polar Tang is submerged. To have your body kissed by a blueish light, playing with the concept of exposing you but still with nobody able to see you is something he really enjoys.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Your existence. Whenever you say something he finds absolutely interesting, he will get really motivated. But also, when you get him on his nerves. A sudden outburst of punishment need creeps inside and nests on his lower belly. The more you contradict or tease him, the more he fantasises to grab you by your wrists and pin you against the wall to teach you how frustrated he is feeling.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Things against your will. Medical play… ffs he is so tired of it. (As a worker in the medical field, it’s pretty weird to sexualize our daily work :P) Cuckolding… you being fucked or even touched by other man while he watches? Nah.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
Giving: OOOOF MAN, he will be thirsty and hungry. You know how Luffy eats meat? well, that’s him eating you out.
Receiving: he will try to hold back, but he won’t be able to stop himself from making you gag and fucking your mouth if you dare to play with his balls while you suck. In fact, he wants to hear you gag and tear up.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
I think it depends. If he is “teaching you a lesson” I think he will go fast and rough, but the more you whimper and cry because you are about to cum he will go slow, sloooower and so deep to make you burst. If it’s some kind of sleepy sex, you know when you just wake up (cause he is usually pretty hard during mornings) he will go slow and sensual, grabbing your face, whispering how tight you are with his lips lingering on top of you and his sloppy eyelids.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
Loves quickies but prefers going for more than one round and indulging in the full experience. He will, though, fuck you so rough in the bathroom of some place if he needs and wants to. Or even smiling pleased if you kneel down his desk while he works…
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
Yes! But always if you aren’t in danger or the practice is gonna hurt your emotional or physical health. However, if it’s something you ask for, he will be absolutely careful and fully inform himself before doing it.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Depending on the day. He is not a beast, nobody is. But surely he can go up to 3 rounds. In any case because he cares to make every round a pleasure explosion for you, you won’t resist a lot more than those either :P
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Not a super fan of toys, he knows he can do everything just fine with those inked fingers of his. However, as he is a little bit of a sadist, he will enjoy making you use one tiny vibrator outside. Law enjoys your faces while trying to dissimulate the pleasure the sudden pulses trigger on your sex.  
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
A LOT. He really likes to tease you. He indeed loves to. You will want to punch him in the face for making you so aroused just to leave you waiting or denying your orgasm when he gets to pleasure you. This happens especially if you had teased him before 🙊
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not really loud until he is about to come. He is more of a grunts and growls man. He sometimes moans too, but the best part of it is when he seems to be in pain but in reality he is about to burst. You hear him pant and hiss with his mandible clench and his neck muscles stretched. Sometimes he can murmur “fuck” or “ugh…” as he buries his nails on your hips.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
He enjoys nipple play spiced it up with his devil fruit. I had this HC since I saw what the Ope Ope could do for the first time :p he is able to create little electric shocks in between his fingers to make you squirm and arch your back when he pinches your nipples.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
OH WAIT. I HAVE A MATHEMATICAL METHOD I DEVELOPED TO ESTIMATE ANY CHARACTER’S DICK LENGTH: (sorry if you don’t use metric system, but just convert cm to inches or whatever you use)
Sashi’s Method for Dick Estimated Length: So, you need a good figure and the scale of it. For example, I have a Grandista Law one that’s 1/14.  Law is 191cm tall, the figure is 23cm. So:  if 1/1 – 191cm, then 1/14 – 23cm Now, we usually estimate in medicine that genitalia is ~9% of the body size, ok? So what you wanna do is to take a ruler and measure approximately Law’s crotch in the figure. Mine is about 2cm. So if: (1/14 scale) 23cm – 2cm (1/1 scale) 191cm —x = 16.60cm Then, Law’s dick is about ± 17cm
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
Normal sex drive. He is not a sex addict and he knows he won’t always be able to act on his urges. But, the more stressed and frustrated he feels (usually after spending some time with Mugiwara-ya) prepare yourself… he WILL NEED to release some stress 😏
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Law, the king of insomnia and red bull is not the type of man to fall asleep very easily… however, there is nothing like you to put him down to sleep like a baby. This happens, particularly, after a rush energy shock to fuck you. The more tired he is, the more he will pull energy from somewhere inside him to go ROUGH on you, but then, as he finishes, he will crash and suddenly fall asleep. He will snore too. LOUDLY.
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buckybarnesss · 8 months
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the fact that nobody called Derek out on his sudden "no, no, we shouldn't immediately murder" attitude in season 3B is so funny
Derek killed Peter, Jackson, and wanted to kill Lydia, but when it's Stiles? Nope, suddenly non-violence is the only answer.
it's one of the things i love about 3B so, so, so much.
i think the only people who could reasonably call derek on it would be scott and peter. scott may have noticed but he wouldn't have on this. not when he was desperate. peter sort of did when derek became focused on the chessboard but instead he was kind of helpful about it. perhaps taking a little pity on his nephew.
riddled is such a great episode for various reasons. scott is terrified of what's happening to stiles. the look on his face when isaac suggests after seeing stiles room that it's insanity all but screams scott is thinking about claudia just like the sheriff is. scott may not have known the name of the disease claudia had but he knew enough. it's the first time scott sees the bite as a gift when he all but offers it to stiles. a last resort because they both know stiles really doesn't want it but it's an option and one claudia never had.
but what gets me is scott immediately calls derek. he's scared about stiles's wellbeing. scott hates involving derek in things and usually only contacts him as a last resort but not here.
scott may willfully put his fingers in his ears and close his eyes to the stiles and derek dynamic but we spent time on him realizing that stiles and derek made friends without him in 3A.
so he calls derek knowing derek will help.
derek is the most transparent we ever see him in 3B. derek enjoys having a certain amount of mystery about him with scott and company. he likes his local cryptid status with them. keeps them on their toes.
like yeah derek mellowed somewhat in season 3 but when stiles is in danger all his known methods and strategies go out the window.
he's teaching chemosignals to scott. he's revealing he knows stiles by scent well enough to be able to tell that stiles was having a fight with himself. he's purposefully seeking out argent to gauge how much of a threat he is to stiles.
he investigates what happened on the night with barrow and even takes kira along for the investigation. same guy who saw lydia was immune to a werewolf bite and went "yep absolutely the kanima gotta kill her" instead of looking for other reasons.
this man doesn't even investigate himself when he's losing his powers the next season. derek baby what you doing?
the nogitsune so called him out this by using his loft as essentially a safe place to hide from the oni. it purposefully used derek as protection right beside the sheriff because neither of them could kill stiles and it knew that.
stiles spent 2.5 seasons gaining derek's trust. stiles is the one who learns about derek's past and checks on his wellbeing. stiles is the one who makes an effort to understand him. the only two people we ever see offer derek comfort are stiles and cora.
stiles earned derek's trust so much by this point not only would derek do just about anything to protect stiles but stiles became his anchor.
the derek hale committee for the protection and safety of stiles stilinski founded 2011.
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writerjayne · 5 months
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I was thinking about things cause I saw a Supernatural edit, and my ADHD brain followed the thought train to Teen Wolf as it often does, and I have thoughts.
As much as I LOVE Stiles raising a baby/having a baby/ finding a baby and being naturally good at it while Derek is out of his depth when you break it down, it makes no sense.
Stiles and Scott? As only children and BOYS when did they ever have a chance to look after children? (While I think boys are perfectly capable of caring for children parents tend to favor girls in child care so like when would they have even had an opportunity?)
DEREK, on the other hand....
A) he has a younger sister with a fairly significant age gap. B) he had a pack that canonically is referenced as to having children, and with family/pack dynamics, it would not be a stretch that Derek has at least SOME experience with children, especially since it's implied Cora is closer in age to Stiles and co whereas Derek is in his early 20s in season one. (Obviously, we all know what a mess the Teen Wolf timeline is, but for the sake of this post early 20s)
Derek's not good with teenagers... As we know... *insert every early interaction with Stiles and Scott ever* But kids and babies? No problem Think about how he is with everyone in the show but then how he was with those little trick-or-treaters. He scared them sure but he also gave them candy, when he could have just as easily ignored them.
I just feel like if you gave him a baby, he would just be like: "I'm a father now, yes I need the most expensive diapers possible!"
Which after having this conversation with my roomie, I realized would make magical Nemeton baby Eli (My favorite explanation) make SO much sense. Found a clearly werewolf baby in the woods? Guess he's a dad now.
Now don't get me wrong, I do think Stiles would pick up very quickly on taking care of a baby, he's very empathetic and cares very deeply, but initially, I think he wouldn't have a clue what he was doing. He would love the baby and WANT to take good care of the baby but wouldn't really know what he was doing. And babies, especially younger babies can be overwhelming.
So what I'm saying is I need a fic where Stiles finds a baby, has no clue what he's doing and Derek is like: "No that's not how you hold a baby/change a diaper/ hold a bottle" and Stiles falls in love so I'm going to write one
Thanks for coming to my ted talk
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christinesficrecs · 5 months
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Happy Saturday! Enjoy these brilliant fics. 🩷
I don’t know why, but I guess it has something to do with you by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 17.8K
“You smell like me,” the guy says, scowling as he crowds in and Stiles staggers back between the coats and finally hits the wall. “Why do you smell like me?”
He barely lets out a garbled sound as the blood rushes to his cheeks. “No reason,” Stiles yelps, struggling to get his footing and grasping at a whirlwind of puffy fur.
His Only Defense by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 78.7K
Stiles had just accidentally challenged an alpha.
Oh God, and Scott had just stood by and let him do it. He was the worst best friend ever. Stiles was going to kill him. Except, oh right, the alpha was going to kill him first. Like beyond dead, ripped into tiny little pieces dead. So far dead that his dad would not be able to identify him, dead.
Laying Groundwork by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K
The one where Scott and Stiles go clubbing and there’s this broody Bouncer out to get Stiles-
Or get into his pants. Thank God it’s the latter.
Give you that thing you can’t even imagine by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 10.9K
The one where mateless Derek thinks no omega can affect him like they do other alphas and he’s about to find out he’s very, very wrong.
Shot Through The Heart by  LunaCanisLupus_22 | 64.8K
The one when Stiles and Derek work for rival assassin companies and are sent to kill each other. It definitely doesn’t go as planned.
Foolish devouring things, build your castle in me by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 23.1K
“I will marry you,” he declares. “But should any more harm come to my father or my people, I will raze the earth itself until I feel the lifeblood drain from your corpse and paint my skin with it.”
It is not an idle warning, but from the princeling it has none of the desired effect. Derek feels no fear, but in this instance at least diplomacy triumphed over the spilling of more blood. It is all the same to him anyway. But Regent Peter was most insistent they avoid a drawn-out, gruelling war.
“Then we have reached an accord.”
Oh baby give me one more chance (to show you that I love you) by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 54.7K
“You like Derek,” he says slowly. “Derek Hale.”
His father grimaces at the accusation there. “Look, Stiles it’s complicated-“
“So when I was married to him,” he continues, voice rising. “He wasn’t good enough. He was taking advantage of me. ‘He’ll never be able to love you like you want, Stiles’. That’s what you said-“
Or the Sweet Home Alabama AU that nobody asked for.
I'm at one, and I've been quiet for too long by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 11.4K
“All in favour of Derek not dating for a full year so he can get his shit together and stop romancing people who want to kill us?”
Everyone raises their hands. Every single pack member.
Or the one where the pack insists Derek can't date anybody for a year but he ends up finding romance much closer to home anyway.
I know that you love me, even when I lose my head by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 135.5K
“We’re not mates, Cora,” he insists. “I mean look at him-“
“Ouch,” the kid says, no longer pushing that shit eating grin.
“He’s- he’s,” Derek tries, at a loss of how to explain why this can’t be possible. Why it shouldn’t be possible.
When sparks fly by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 87.5K | Abandoned
“Derek,” Stiles thunders. “Were you ever going to tell me your house is trying to hook us up?”
Derek’s head snaps up, eyes wide and scenting the evident crackle of magic in the air.
I'll wrap up my bones, And leave them by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 65.1K
The sign on the cage actually reads Beware: The Beast! in that crappy horror movie red paint that trickles down the paper in a failed attempt to appear like dripping blood.
And it would seem stupid if not for the living supernatural creature currently trapped behind its bars. Little hard to dismiss the big, hulking werewolf as a poorly constructed horror movie prop.
Oh how the mighty have fallen. Dude, cannot catch a break.
How long have I been on the hunt for you? by LunaCanisLupus_22 | 20.3K
“Well I guess accidental kidnapping is not so bad then,” Scott decided brightly after the others had finished describing their ordeals. “All’s well that ends well, right?”
“HAHA,” Stiles practically shouted, loud and unsettling enough that everyone turned to look at him. “I mean, yep. For. Sure.”
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totheblood · 7 months
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I WISH I NEVER MET YOU. (2)
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pairing: ex!ellie williams x reader
warnings: cursing, drinking, bitchy ellie, bitchy reader
a/n: . ellie sings in this one... ai audios in the fic <3 reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses
wc: 2.3k
"texted and saw you read it, lately i'm so pathetic."
This was turning out to be the worst trip you have ever been on.
It was one thing to be stuck in a house with your ex-girlfriend who hates your guts, but it was another thing to be stuck with her and her new girlfriend. Her new perfectly pretty and normal girlfriend who was probably going to give her everything she ever wanted. Who probably made her happy. You don’t know why that thought upset you so much.  
You ignored the pit in your stomach as you hauled the bags out of the back of Cora’s car and into the house. The comfort this place used to give you now had a sour tinge to it. This would now be forever known as the place where you watched your ex-girlfriend move on. The worst part was that you deserved this. Whatever sick and twisted game Ellie was playing, you deserved, and you knew that. 
As you approached the French doors, Jesse burst through them, arms coming up to squeeze you tightly. You laughed as he took the air out of you, lifting you up from your spot, your bags dropping in your hand. 
“If it isn’t Miss Lemon Drop,” Jesse beamed, putting you down and examining your face, touching it with his bare hand “You look older.”
“Oh, shut up,” you swatted his hand away from your face, a smile plastered across it, “aren’t you pushing thirty?” 
“I’m 25,” he shook his head laughing, picking up your bags and helping you bring them inside, “and I missed you.”
“I missed you too, Jess,” you pulled him into a hug, needing the comfort that only he could provide. 
“What’s wrong?” Pulling away, his eyes searched your face frantically. He always knew when something was up with you. You were not convinced he couldn’t read your mind. 
“Nothi-” your voice was cut off by the sound of laughter coming through the door. June, with her long blonde hair, was giggling as she held onto Ellie’s arm, Ellie holding two pink bags on her other arm. They were clearly not her luggage. 
“Oh,” was all Jesse said as he gave you a pitiful look and pushed past you to greet Ellie and her new ‘friend’. 
They all began laughing and hugging, the introductions overflowing as they stood in the foyer. Deciding you didn’t want anything to do with it, you picked your bags up and made your way up the stairs to the room you usually stayed in. Plopping your shit down, you laid down on the bed, closing your eyes for just a moment. You needed to catch your breath for a moment away from everyone. The peace was just starting to set in as the door swung open and in walked Ellie.
You leaned up on your elbows, giving her a confused look as you watched June’s figure appear behind her. 
“What are you doing?” She asked, tone still laced with coldness, however, there was a much lighter air to it now. She was trying to save face in front of her new girlfriend.
“Resting on my bed,” you replied matter-of-factly, looking towards the bags in her hand. 
“This is our room,” Ellie stated, pursing her lips before giving a quick glance to June who opened her eyes slightly, giving Ellie a knowing look.
“This has always been my room,” you looked at her, sitting up straighter now.
“Yeah, but it’s the only other one with a double bed,” Ellie put the bags down on the large dresser, shaking her head and shrugging, “and you don’t really have anyone to share the bed with.”
June snorted from her place in the doorway, causing you to look at her with a scowl on her face. Ellie was smirking to herself as she pushed her hands into her pockets. 
“You could share the guest room with Faye,” she offered, the stupid smirk still on her face, “I mean that was usually my bed but you are free to have it.”
“You’re too kind, Ellie,” you gave her a sickly sweet smile. If this was the game she was playing, you would be playing just as hard. Smiling, you picked up your bags and turned to June who was still standing in the doorway, “I guess we both get sloppy seconds this trip.” 
With that, you pushed past her and down the hallway. That would have been satisfying if you hadn’t felt snubbed by Ellie. When you opened the guest bedroom Faye was already sitting on her bed, phone in hand as she texted. You didn’t know Faye that well, but you still got along. She smiled when she saw you, putting her phone away as she got up to hug you.
“Oh my god,” She laughed as she squeezed you, “You’re staying with me?”
“Yeah,” you smiled, hugging her back before dropping your things on the ground, “Ellie and her new girlfriend stole my room.”
She looked at you with wide eyes, “Ellie has a girlfriend?” She gasped as she moved back to sit on her bed. You picked your stuff up again, moving around to place them on your bed.
“Yup,” you said, popping your lips on the ‘p’, “she’s very pretty, glossy lips type. You know now that I mention it, she’s more like your type.” 
Faye squinted at you before rolling her eyes as her cheeks tinged a deeper color. Faye was probably the most outwardly open out of the group. She grew up in a fairly liberal family that allowed her to express herself from a very early age. Due to that, she never shied away from her sexuality. She liked women, and she let them know, but she never was the committed type. A fuckboy of sorts.
But beyond that, Faye was just nice. She knew how to listen and give advice without sounding condescending, always sitting close to you with a warm hand on your back. And she was pretty, insanely pretty with chocolate brown eyes and perfectly tanned skin. Faye was dreamy wrapped up in a 5’5 body.
“What do you know about my type?” She joked, eyes watching you as you began to unpack your things.
“I’ve been out with you,” you laughed, pulling clothes from your bag and moving to put them in the closet, “I’ve seen who you’ve gone home with.”
She giggled, getting up again to help you hang stuff up. She was so nice that it pissed you off sometimes. It mostly pissed you off when you thought that she and Ellie had a thing before she revealed to you that she was more into femmes. The jealousy subsided, but the wish that you were more like her remained. 
“Maybe I’ll steal her from Ellie,” she smirked as she collected the rest of your things, holding them to you as you put them in the closet.
“You?” you scoffed, a smile dancing on your lips, “yeah right.”
“Hey,” she pouted, nudging you with her shoulder, “I’m not that ugly.”
“No!” you yelled, stopping for a moment and looking at her, “Not like- I didn’t mean it like that. You’re pretty, really fucking pretty. It’s just that you’re too nice to steal anyone’s girlfriend.”
Her cheeks tinged pink again, “You think I’m nice?” 
“Shut up.”
When the clothes were put away and sorted, you and Faye went downstairs for lunch. The dining room was large and scattered with fruit, small premade and cut-up sandwiches, and little eateries. You never got used to how rich Cora actually was. But when you got there, June and Ellie were already at the table. Ellie was feeding June a grape,  June’s legs splattered over Ellie’s lap. Her free hand held firmly onto her thigh. You wanted to throw up. However, when you looked at Faye, she also looked like she wanted to throw up.
Quickly, she pulled you out of the room and back down the hallway, her breath heavy. 
“Faye, what the fuck?” you whisper yelled, looking into her eyes as they kept glancing to the opening down the hallway to the dining room. 
“That’s my ex-girlfriend,” She whispered back.
“Your what?”
“My ex-girlfriend,” she repeated.
“I thought you didn’t date,” your face had confusion etched into it.
“I don’t,” she whispered shaking her breath, “not since her.”
“Oh,” you replied, feeling a little relieved that this trip wouldn’t just suck for you.
“You need to pretend to be my girlfriend,” Faye demanded, her face serious. You burst out laughing, but when she didn’t even crack a smile, your laughter faded.
“I can’t-”
“It will make Ellie jealous,” She replied quickly, eyes frantic and wide, almost like she was begging, “Please, I cant make her think she has one up on me.”
“She doesn’t have one up on you,” you tried to remind her.
“Except she does,” she sighed, “she’s able to move on, and I’m not. Even after 3 years.”
You took a deep breath. The idea of making Ellie jealous made your heart flip in the best way possible. Even though you ended things, you still wanted her to want you. You were pretty sure you still wanted her. It also wouldn’t hurt to help Faye out. Maybe living in the delusion that you were in a happy relationship was the only thing you needed to get past this trip without multiple meltdowns. 
“Fine,” you spat out, “but it needs to look realistic. You need to be all touchy with me.”
“Easy,” she coughed for a moment, “done.”
Faye stuck her hand in your back pocket as you made your way down the hallway and back out into the dining room. You pretended to fake laugh at something she said, putting your hand on her waist as you entered the room. The laugh caused both Ellie and June to look up at the two of you. To really play it off you quickly separated yourself from Faye as if you had been caught. You looked towards Ellie who had a blank look on her face, her lips turned downwards as she looked between you and Faye. 
“Faye?” June asked voice sing songy as she stood up and ran to give her a hug. Faye didn’t hug back, just lightly stepped back as she placed her arm around your shoulders. 
“June,” she looked at you with a shocked face as if this was her first time noticing her. Get this girl a fucking Oscar, you thought, “What are you doing here?”
“I’m with,” she turned around, gesturing to Ellie who gave a small smile and waved to Faye before her eyes drifted back to her phone, ignoring the arm placed around your shoulder, “I’m here with my girlfriend, Ellie.”
“How do you two know each other, babe?” you asked, looking at Faye and then back to June. June paused, looking between the both of you with an expression you couldn’t quite read. 
“We, um,” Faye started, pretending to not know what to say. 
“We used to date,” June blurted out quickly, a cocky smile on her face. 
“It’s so cool how we have the same taste in women,” you smirked at June, pushing past her with your hand lodged in Faye’s to grab a pre-cut sandwich from the table, taking a bite of it and sitting down across from Ellie. You made a conscious choice to not say anything to her, but she looked mad. She was on her phone at this point, pretending (and failing) to act like she didn’t hear the conversation. But you could tell from the way her eyebrows twisted, and her nervous habit of biting her nails that she heard the entire thing and did not like it. 
Ellie knew she was a mess as she kept her head low. Get up and leave, her mind rang over and over. She was frozen in place, staring at her phone and trying not to drown in the scent of you. She moved on, she was better, so why did she feel like this? Why did it still gnaw at her stomach to see someone else touch you? Why did she care when you made it clear you didn’t care about her?
Ellie’s mind was flooded with images of you daily. Her fingernails digging into the sides of your hips, the weight of you next to her in bed, the way she had a permanent smile around you. All of it felt like an open wound, deep and fleshy, and no matter how much she stitched it up, it would open again. Her brain was all noise as she did her best to not look up at you, to not look at you intertwined with Faye. 
She couldn’t help but compare herself to her at this moment. Was she not as nice as Faye? Or as pretty? What about Faye made you pick her over Ellie? Was she softer with you? What about her did Ellie not have? Ellie didn’t even realize she was holding her breath till June placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“I’m going upstairs, El,” she whispered lowly, “might take a nap.”
“Cool,” Ellie smiled, leaning up to give her a quick peck on the lips, “I’m going outside.” 
Finally, Ellie stood from her place, not taking a second glance at you before heading outside to where the hydrangeas littered the garden and the expansive still pool hummed lightly. Placed out there was her guitar, covered where she had left it a few weeks prior. Taking it out she started strumming, singing a song she only started when you had broken up with her. 
“I’ve been having a hard time adjusting. I’ve had the shinest wheels now they’re rusting.”
She began singing, the song getting caught up in the hair. With the strum of the guitar and her mind somewhere distant, she didn’t notice you tiptoeing out into the garden. She didn’t notice you intently listening to her lyrics, in a song that she wrote for you.
“I didn’t know if you cared if I came back, I have a lot of regrets about that.”
This lyric came a month after the breakup, her fingers scrolling through the wall of texts you left her. She hadn’t replied to a single one, assuming that you didn’t really care what happened to her anymore. She thought that maybe if she didn’t have all this pain brewing in her chest, she wouldn’t feel this way anymore about you, but that was a lie. The more she left unsaid, and the more she assumed you never wanted her around, the more she hated you. 
“Pulled the car off the road to the lookout. Could’ve followed my fears all the way down.”
She drove out to your spot one day, eyes still red and puffy from weeks of crying. She was doing this to torture herself, in some sort of sadistic way she was punishing herself for you leaving her. This was the place she started realizing that she may never be enough for anyone, and that deep-rooted fear of ending up alone was still alive and well. 
Snap. 
You stepped on a branch and she stopped playing, turning around to face you but sighing deeply when she saw you. 
“Can we please not do this?” She sighed, watching as you made your way around the fire pit and sat next to her, “I really don’t have the energy.”
“It’s a beautiful song,” you commented. You never knew what you were doing when it came to her. Your feet moved long before your brain ever did. 
“Thanks,” She shuffled in her seat, staring down at her worn-out Converse. 
 “I just want to say that,” you took a deep breath, looking away from her and out into the backyard where the light was hitting the grass, “I am happy for you. You seem really happy with June.”
“Are you really?” She chuckled lightly, “Cause you were kind of an asshole back there.”
“I know,” You sighed, looking at her now, “I guess I don’t know how to handle seeing you with someone else. Just wasn’t prepared.”
She scoffed at that shaking her head. 
“I didn’t mean to hurt you. Ever,” you tried to reason with her.
“Well, you did,” her voice was small again.
“And I’m sorry,” you pleaded with her, “I have been apologizing forever for this.”
“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she sighed, “I want you to want me.”
“I have wanted you, Ellie. For so long. But things aren’t that simp-”
“Oh, cut it with the ‘things aren’t simple’ shit! I loved you and you didn't love me. That’s simple. It doesn’t get any simpler than that but save me the fucking theatrics. You owe me more than that,” it was going down that road again and you were nervous the trip would be over before it started. 
“I did love you,” you replied watching her eyes shift for a moment, the light reflecting in them beautifully, before she was scoffing again and shaking her head, “I did love you!”
“Bullshit!” she spoke over you, standing from her place now, her hand tightly wrapped around the guitar.
“Ellie, just because you are insecure you don’t get to act like I didn’t feel what I felt,” you stood, voice faltering as you spoke, the words getting caught up in your throat, “you don’t want to believe I loved you so you can feel sorry for yourself but you never once heard me out or cared about what I had to say. You just needed to feel like the victim so you could hate me.”
“I don’t hate you!” She yelled back, standing straighter now watching as anger was written all over your face, in your scrunched-up nose and doe eyes- What the fuck was happening to her?
“You sure treat me like you do,” you crossed your arms over your chest, watching as she placed her guitar on the chair and took a steadying breath.
“I hate the situation,” she breathed out, “I hate that I loved you so much and it still didn’t work out in the end. I hate that no matter what I do and wherever I go I will always have to compare whoever I’m with to you. And god forbid I meet anyone that holds a candle to you, I would just… I would lose my fucking mind thinking about all the ways they could leave me and I would have to be reminded of you again. You, who probably years into the future, I will still love. I hate that you did this to me. I hate that no matter what I do, no matter what you do to me, I will always love you.”
You were winded by her confession, by her wild eyes, and how defeated she looked as she stood in front of you. All of it overwhelmed your senses. You reached out for her hand, head bowed as you took a step towards her. Her breath hitched in her throat as you stepped closer. 
“I love you, Ellie,” you whispered, looking up at her. You were so close to her now you could hear her ragged breathing. She leaned in closer about to make a move or say something, honestly, you were unsure what was about to happen next because you were cut off by the sound of the back door slamming open and Jesse and Orion lugging a cooler outside. 
As if she was snapped back into reality, Ellie took a quick step away from you, her eyes completely glossed over as she made her way back inside without another word.
What the fuck just happened?
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